#That was finally willing to sacrifice eternity for love and a knife in the back. That she likely knows that that someone is going to end he | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-greatest-story-untold · 2 years

Text

Always Be My Favorite

Y/N x NCT Vampire AU

Y/N, an ancient vampiress and seductress, has had many mortals fall for her. The exuberance of her presence and manner draws attention instantly. It is nigh impossible not to be allured.

The young men of the Neo Clan were no different. Like others before them, they began their courtship with Y/N thinking they had the upper hand. Well, they were young and impressionable, of good lineage and bloodline. They're up for the challenge to court the Queen of the Night.

Little do they know… The ending has been set from the beginning; no one courts the Queen. She reigns over all and will never be reigned in by any other. Her heart was stone and her feelings only a mimicry. But still, she is willing to play the game.

The beginning of courtship is always so exciting. Fast, intense, passionate, dripping love. It is intoxicating, it is addictive.

It leaves the Neos wanting more.

They become restless as they start to yearn more for Y/N. She draws them in, like the moon to the waves. It's a listless wait for the Neos as Y/N starts her game of cat and mouse. They could only but dance alone at night in the moonlight, in inexhaustible passion. They could only await for Y/N to give in return to them what they had so willingly given to her.

Desperation is unseemly and unbecoming of fine young men.

But the taste of her nectar is like poison; it entraps them in a bind to her. It makes them thirst and keen for more.

It is toxin and hurts them so. It burns and tears and rips them apart. But they've abandoned reason. Nothing else matters, as long as they belonged to Y/N. Nothing else could satisfy their soul. They will love her and yearn for her and will want to hurt even more relentlessly, just so they could remain with her. But they understood the price for wanting her and remains steadfast, without regrets.

They are withering, the boys of the Neo Clan; trapped in a cage of deception and desperation. But they don't see a cage, no. They see it as love, admiration, desire... a sacrifice for a melancholic lover.

They are fading away — like a last song. Their adoration for Y/N is impressive. She takes and takes, yet they give and give.

“You promise me forever?” They ask her, nightly.

Y/N lies through her teeth, “Yes.”

She sees them withering; their souls fleeting, fading. They may not last the night.

Maybe it is their devotion to her; so unconditional and loyal. Maybe it was the fading song in their souls. But it tugged at her desolate heart.

She asks them if they knew she was danger. They knew. Yet they still stayed.

“I give you my everything and I give myself away with no regrets. That is how I have come to love you.

You, my Queen, who hurts and pains me with not a sharp knife, but a dulled and blunt one, morphed in your lies and deception. It hurts more and I bleed endlessly. But I see past that for I see a sadness in your beauty and pain in your eternity.

I may not last the dawn for I know you are killing me and death awaits come sunrise. I will leave you and you will be alone once more my Queen.

But that does not terrify you in one bit, does it? No, for you have never needed anyone. You have taken from every last one of us in our clan, and left us with dust.

We, nay, I — love you still. Forever, you'll always be my favorite everything.”

Y/N smiles. Loving to their last breaths, these Neo boys.

In the horizon, dawn breaks. A last shuddering breath was heard, leaving his body an empty husk. Then came the wind and it sweeps the ashes away.

Y/N gives a solemn sigh before she retreats back into her castle, stilettos clicking against the stone floors.

Maybe in another life, will she finally understand the reason why she'll always be their favorite.

*** fin ***

Submitted 15 July 2022

#nct #nct fanfic #nct127 #nct dream #wayv #vampires #y/n

5 notes · View notes

hruvhi · 2 months

Text

UNTIL FOREVER

I had this dream when I was around seven or eight. There’s this girl in my dream, and she’s nothing like me. She’s too gloomy, she doesn’t talk much and she’s always writing poems about this boy. Her poems talk about a love that can never be. It’s all about wishes and hopes, but their circumstances will never really allow them to be together. The boy she likes was always right behind her, but they never really talk to each other. They don’t talk, at least in my dreams. But the girl was falling for him day by day. She would write what ifs, and their life together only when the stars aligned. She knew it was hopeless, but she kept on writing about the days when they can finally be together.

Years later, the boy married somebody else, and her heart died while looking at the couple. She wished them happiness and it was genuine. She told herself that even if she won’t be happy in that lifetime, at least the boy is happy. That’s enough for her. She buried her dreams of a simple life with the man to pursue power. She thought that if she have that power and influence, she can protect the man that she loved. That girl was pathetic, I don’t understand why she had to let go of that person. She could’ve fight for him. She could’ve kept him beside her for the rest of his life, after all, she has the power. He’s a servant, she can keep the guy by her side as long as she wants but instead, she set the guy free. She prayed for his happiness until her last breath. It was a sad dream, I cried after having that nightmare. I don’t understand her back then, I thought if that was me I will keep the guy I love by my side forever.

After that, I dreamed of the same girl when I was in high school. I just know that it was her. She’s about to marry a man. In my dreams, her future husband holds a lot of power. She doesn’t love him, she still love the person from before but she’s willing to marry another guy. I don’t understand her then, but then she spoke to me in that dream. I was so shocked I almost peed my pants because it’s like getting caught sneaking in a room that wasn’t yours LOL. She said that sometimes you don’t marry the person you love, it’s the one that’s aligned with your cause that you should marry. She said that I’m a capable person, and I shouldn’t throw away my aspirations for love. It’s like she can read my mind even if I don’t say a word. After a while I followed her ‘cause she was running. I ran after her but when I’m about to catch up, somebody stab that girl with a knife. I was shocked by what I saw and I was actually looking for a telephone to call an ambulance but it’s like people there can’t see me. She was hugging that man I saw before, the man that she loved. It’s really weird. They’re both crying and the girl said that she will love that guy in every lifetime, for all eternity. It was a one-sided and yet unconditional love. I feel sad for the girl and unfortunately, I feel like that girl is me. I also remember her saying that I should stay away from the person that I love because the past will repeat itself and I will die. It’s really weird! Gosh!

I don’t think we’re similar. We’re so different, like she’s too gloomy while I’m kinda cheerful. I like fun but she’s the type who will stay cooped up in her room and write or read the whole day. I can’t even read without getting distracted. However, we’re both protective, and our love is unconditional. She’s willing to let go of the person she loves just so he can pursue his happiness, and I think, I will do the same. In my dreams, she shielded that man from getting stabbed that’s why she died. She’s about to get her most desired power, and she’s about to marry the most powerful man but she traded her life so that her first love will live. That’s a very sad life, I don’t want to live like that. Is that why she told me I should stay away from my first love? Lol that’s too easy we don’t even live in the same country haha. If my fate is to sacrifice myself for the man I love, lol that won’t happen because I’ll never see him again 😌

But that dream, it’s really sad. Based on that, I’m not meant to marry the person I love. Not in this lifetime or the next. My first love was only a lesson, I met him to teach me about unconditional love and how to let go. Oh, well, I feel like that girl wants me to marry the man I’m supposed to marry so the cycle won’t repeat itself and I won’t have to die. Did she regret saving her first love? Well, if it’s me I won’t regret it. So why did she said that I should stay away? It’s not adding up 🤔

Gosh why am I so invested in a dream? But I’m curious, what happened with her first love after she died? Did he cry a lot, or did he go back to his life like nothing happened? I bet it’s the former, it’s a one-sided love after all. Hmm, maybe that’s the reason. She wanted me to stay away from him so I can enjoy my life? She probably regrets it haha. I feel like there’s something missing in that story. Oh well, it’s not like I can investigate a dream right? Oh my gosh, what if it’s pre-meditated and it’s actually her first love who killed her? Omg omg that sucks! Damn, girl you were betrayed by the man you love? That’s horrible 🥺 I feel sorry for her, is that dream a murder mystery? What the hell

0 notes

starsfic · 3 years

Text

Smoke and Gold, Chapter 10: Looking

Summary: Xiaojiao and Xiaotian reunite. But things go sour and his bestie lays a choice at his feet.

It's the wrong one.

Notes: @fosermi

AO3

-_-

Xiaotian was a bundle of nerves that morning.

For once, he was glad Red wasn't there when he woke up. He might've been tempted to call this off, homesickness be damned. He barely ate his breakfast, thankfully not throwing up from the anxiety curling in his gut. Soon enough, he was making sure the servants had Xiaojiao's favorite snacks and desserts ready, succeeding in not entering a mood swing. That didn't relieve his nerves.

How was she doing? Did everyone miss him? How was everyone? Would she recognize him-

"Long Xiaojiao is here, my lord."

Xiaotian blinked out of his thoughts, turning. A servant stood in the doorway, thankfully showing no notice of his spiral. Then the news hit.

And he was running out of the room.

He shot past servants and guards, finally reaching the entry hall. He heard her voice before he saw her, yelling at the guards. "-why I'm-"

"Mei?" He couldn't resist the urge to use the childhood nickname. His best friend, still wearing her motorcycle gear, froze. Then she turned, wide-eyed.

They stood there, staring at each other.

Then one of them sobbed. He wasn't sure who because tears were pricking at his eyes and then they were rushing to each other.

They met in the middle, collapsing into a pile of hugs and tears.

-_-

The day was great.

This was the best idea ever!

After their hugs and assuring Xiaojiao he was fine, Xiaotian proceeded to give her a tour. Xiaojiao oohed and ahhed, occasionally making comments about her parents' sense of decor. Eventually, he had her right where he wanted her.

Right to the gaming room, which was much bigger than anything either of them had seen. There, she whooped his ass at every game, just like at the arcade. Just like it was a regular day.

Now they were eating lunch with what stomachs were available from game snacking. Xiaojiao had assured him that everyone was fine, although they all missed him so much. And now they were talking about this and that.

"So, spill," Xiaojiao said, setting aside her drink. "Tell me about Red. What's he like?"

A fond smile formed. "What do you want to know? He's smart. He loves to invent, you two would get along. He's really, really ...attentive." The word sent warmth spiraling through his insides, remembering Red's talents in the last, kissing and sucking and biting…

"Where is he? I mean, I figured he’d want to meet me."

Xiaotian blinked out of his lustful thoughts, blushing. She hadn't caught on to what exactly he was thinking about his husband, right? "Oh, he's at work. He's really busy during the days and if I know I can't see him, I would be-"

"You've never seen him?"

And Xiaojiao's voice had changed. Xiaotian froze, because right. That wasn’t normal in a relationship. He shrugged, trying to pretend it was a normal thing. “It’s one of the rules here. I can never see his face.”

Her expression looked worried. “Okay, look,” And she sounded worried. “That… that isn’t normal. And the fact that you’re a sacrifice for this guy…” Emotions crossed her face. “Alright,” she finally said. “I’m only asking you to do this because you clearly love the guy and I just want you safe and happy.”

That didn’t sound good.

“...do what?”

She reached into her backpack, pulling out one of her spare phones, an old flip phone. She passed it to Xiaotian before reaching back inside. What she pulled out next made his throat dry.

It was a knife.

“You need to protect yourself,” his best friend said gently. Trembling, his hand reached out, wrapping around the handle. “What if this is just a long game?” He shook his head in denial.

“Look, just sneak one look and then you’ll know.”

Just one look?

“If he’s not what he says he is, then use the knife. If you...have to, use the phone to call me when it’s done.” Xiaojiao went quiet. Then she wrapped arms around him.

There, he broke down.

-_-

“Is everything alright?”

Xiaotian resisted a shiver at his husband’s voice. Questions crowded in his throat. “Fine,” he said, instead of any of them. “Just tired.” There was silence, then lips pressed against his shoulder. “Night.” he managed out, snuggling into the covers in an attempt to look like he was going to sleep.

He felt a warm back press against his. “...Good night.”

The urge to apologize joined the crowd of questions but Xiaotian didn’t say a word.

You need to protect yourself, MK .

As much as he hated it, Xiaojiao had a point. He deserved to know that he was safe. Besides, why wasn’t he allowed? His husband had seen every inch of him. Why didn’t he get that privilege?

Look, just sneak one look and then you’ll know.

Just one look.

It felt like an eternity before Xiaotian heard his husband start the slow, even breathing of sleep. Moving slowly, he carefully slipped out of bed. He hit the soft carpet and reached under the bed. The total darkness of the bedroom made it impossible to see his contraband, forcing him to blindly search around.

If he’s not what he says he is, then use the knife.

His hand brushed against the handle of the knife. Xiaotian shivered and kept looking.

If you...have to, use the phone to call me when it’s done.

His hand brushed against the phone and then finally wrapped around the candle. The reason why he had to use a candle was because the phone was one of those old flip phones with no flashlight. Xiaotian pulled out the candle and the box of matches right next to it. He didn’t light it right there.

Instead, he carefully stepped to his husband’s side of the bed. Xiaotian quietly pulled out a match and striked it, lighting the candle. Cupping the flame before he could see, he took a deep breath.

Moment of truth.

He pulled his hand away.

The candlelight gently fell upon his husband and the truth hit him.

Oh no.

Warm skin in both body heat and tone. Long red hair curling around his shoulders. An sharp, angular face. A golden nose piercing that shone in the light. Red bull ears that matched the tail that absently twitched and swished in sleep. Even though he had never seen his face, Xiaotian could recognize the young man from Wukong’s stories.

He scrambled away from Red Boy, son of his father’s enemy the Demon Bull King.

Xiaotian didn’t stop moving until he felt his back hit the wall. He clamped a hand over his mouth as he moved, stifling a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a scream. His mind whirled at the truth and the possibilities. A trap? He should- he needed to- He took a deep breath in and then out and focused.

His husband was Red Boy. The demon who had attacked Sun Wukong on his journey west, the son of the demon locked under mountain and staff, the half of the danger that they were watching. That would explain why he was never around during the day. He was probably with his mother.

But...he was also Red. Red, who was proud to the point of being a bit arrogant. Who promised to wait to touch him until he asked. Who could go on and on about machines and was all too willing to explain terms and parts and bits if he asked. Who listened to him talk about art and his work and asked informed questions. Who apologized that his hands were a bit rough whenever they touched and kissed him eagerly when he finally asked him to make love to him. Who had the cackle of a mad scientist and was shy about his features and had such goofy grins that he felt when he smiled into his skin. Who Xiaotian loved and…

He let out a sigh, thinking about this.

Okay. So, he couldn’t do this. The stabbing or the leaving. Xiaotian crawled back to Red’s side, staring at his peaceful features until the knot of fear in his chest came undone. Under all that, he found himself happy to finally see the man he loved. That pushed his decision. He loved him and he was okay with that. He could wait until he was ready to reveal himself and ask questions then.

He gave his husband a soft kiss, sealing his promise. He then moved to stand-

“OW!”

The candle had started to drip, Xiaotian realized. And a glob of hot wax had fallen onto his hand and wrist. He yelped, dropping the candle to cradle his burn. But the pain was soon overshadowed by the fact that Red had sat straight up at his cry. The concern in his eyes at the painful cry faded as he realized that he was standing over him and noticed the still burning candle on the floor. It was soon replaced by something else- anger.

“Red, it’s not-”

But his husband’s hair was already flaming. “You-” He apparently couldn’t say anything else before he was engulfed in flames. Xiaotian yelped, immediately going down and hearing fire and wind woosh.

When he peeled his face off the carpet, the bed was empty and the sheets nothing but ash.

And he was heartbreakingly alone.

“...Red?”

Unsure of what else to do, Xiaotian curled up into a ball.

Tears pricked in his eyes and he soon found himself sobbing.

-_-

Princess Iron Fan’s sitting room was filled with the sound of sobbing.

“Oh, my sweet useless boy,” the princess cooed. He was curled up on her sofa, head pillowed in her lap, with her running her fingers through his hair like he was a little boy again. “I should’ve known better than to give you such a task.” She was angry at her son for his failure and his resulting deeds, but she was a mother first. Her poor baby was heartbroken and needed comfort.

“I- I told him not to look- I-I-I-I asked him not to look…” Red Son burst into a fresh round of sobs, wetting his mother’s skirts. “Why did he-?!”

“Oh, Red Son,” Iron Fan sighed. “Sun Wukong is selfish. It makes sense that his successor will be just as selfish.” He winced at the harsh words but she continued on. “If he had truly loved you, he wouldn’t have looked. Forget about him. We have more important things to do.” But she made a little mental note as she peeled her son off her lap and saw how broken he was.

Qi Xiaotian deserved something nasty for breaking her son’s heart.

#my writing #Spicynoodleshipping #Lego Monkie Kid #Monkie Kid #Eros and Psyche AU #au #MK #Qi Xiaotian #Mei #Long Xiaojiao #Red Son #Princess Iron Fan

28 notes · View notes

lostcauses-noregrets · 4 years

Text

Levi Ackerman - Last man standing

Four years ago, when Erwin died, after I reluctantly started to come to terms with the devastating shock and disbelief, the thing that hurt me the most was the knowledge that Levi would have to go on living and breathing in a world without Erwin in it. It just seemed so Impossible, so unfathomably sad that Levi would have to go on fighting, desperately trying to fulfil his vow to Erwin and their fallen comrades, after loosing almost everyone he ever cared about.

The Answers book, which was published in Japan the same day that chapter 84 came out, provided a small crumb of comfort, by reiterating what an important presence Erwin was in Levi’s life. And later the Character Guide clarified unambiguously that Levi chose to save Erwin by allowing him to die, however it also twisted the knife cruelly by confirming that Levi had lost someone irreplaceable to him. And that’s what really hurt; knowing that Erwin was gone, the relentless irrevocability of his death. Because despite the fantastical nature of the SnK world, death for everyone but the Titans and the Shifters was visceral, permanent and very, very real. Once a person died that was it, they were gone in all but memory. The only glimmer of hope was Isayama’s love of flashbacks and his hint that, even though Erwin was dead, he might draw him again. And bless Yams, he turned out to be as good as his word. Erwin might have been dead and gone, but he lived on in his comrades’ memories as an inspiration and a vow. But he was never more than a memory, an absence at the heart of the story.

Despite the revelations of the post-Shiganshina arcs, and the realization that there was a whole other plane of existence that Eldians could be transported to, the Paths dimension, there was never a hint of any kind of afterlife for anyone but the Shifters and Ymir herself. That was left for the fic writers to imagine, and boy did we imagine it. We’ve written reams of stories featuring Erwin watching over Levi from beyond, some of which I’ve linked below.

Consequently, the appearance of what seems to be some kind of legit afterlife in the canon world is unexpected to say the least. It’s still not remotely clear what kind of afterlife Isayama has presented us with here. It’s doesn’t appear to be the Paths dimension, it looks very much like the “real” world. Previously when we’ve seen the Survey Corps dead they’ve been mute shades, bearing silent witness to their comrades trials and sufferings.

This is very, very different, Erwin and the others seem real and corporeal and conscious of events going on in the world. Seeing Erwin’s open smiling face melted my heart but knowing that he watched the plane carrying Levi take off almost destroyed me.

So where does all this leave Levi? On the one hand, knowing that Erwin and his soldiers are watching over him, waiting there for him in some kind of apparently benign afterlife eases the pain of his suffering somewhat, but knowing that he is not just the last of the Veterans, but the last of his generation is soul destroying.

Ever since it became clear that Levi would not be going out in a blaze of glory immediately after Erwin’s death, my two greatest fears have been that some plot device would prevent him from being able to kill Zeke, and that he would be the last man standing, alone at the end of the world. So far, I’ve been right on the first count, and it looks horribly likely that I might be right on the second count too.

There’s been endless speculation about how the story will end, and as far as I’m concerned the absolutely worst possible ending for Levi would be for Eren to wipe out humanity and then erase the memories of the people of Paradis, leaving them with no recollection that humanity had been destroyed in the name of their “freedom”. Only Levi (and Mikasa? Will she survive? I don’t know.) would be left to live on, alone with the knowledge of his failure. Knowing that he failed to save humanity, failed to honour his comrades sacrifice, failed to fulfill his vow to Erwin, failed to even die.

I hope beyond hope that this doesn’t happen, but as things stand, it could be a very real possibility. There doesn’t seem to be any one or anything that can stop Eren right now. Also the mind wipe is the one power of the Founding Titan that we haven’t seen come into play yet. We know that Eren is willing to use it though, as he’s already threatened Historia with it. Why would Yams go out of his way all those chapters ago to reveal that Ackermans are immune to the mind wipe, if it wasn’t going to come into play at some stage? I sincerely hope I’m wrong here, but this has been niggling at the back of my mind of years now.

The other thing that makes me fear that Levi will still be alive by the end of the series is that Hanji got the death than many of us hoped for for him. Lots of people have already commented on this. Hanji really did have the perfect ending; they got to say goodbye to their soldiers, flirt with the cute Titan shifter, say a touching farewell to Levi, before dedicating their heart to humanity and going out heroically, fighting to buy time for their comrades to escape. And as if that wasn’t enough, they wake up in the afterlife where they get to complain to Erwin about how tough it was being commander, and constant faithful Moblit is waiting there to help them to their feet.

It’s beyond perfect, and it’s everything that Hanji deserved. But it’s also what Levi deserved, and now I fear he won’t get that, because as many others have already pointed out, with the end of the story looming, it’s unlikely that Isayama is going to repeat himself.

Never have Kenny’s final words rung more hollow and more true. Everyone is a slave to something and Levi is a slave to his strength, to being a hero in the service of humanity. Maybe there was a glimmer of truth in what Eren said after all. Ackermans may not be slaves to their lieges, but they are slaves to their strength and their power.

I haven’t quite given up hope yet though, and odd as it might sound, but I’m pinning my hopes on Eren and Zeke, both of whom Levi has sworn to kill. I don’t think Levi will be the one to attempt to stop Eren, that responsibility surely has to fall to Mikasa and Armin, but Zeke’s ass belongs to Levi. Not like that. Zeke has been MIA for months now and it’s entirely unclear if he’s alive, dead, or trapped in Paths limbo for eternity. But if he is still alive in any meaningful way, and he re-enters the fray, that will surely give Levi his last chance for salvation and absolution. Surely if anyone has earned peace and redemption, and a place in the afterlife beside Erwin and his friends, its Levi. Come on Isayama, is that really too much to ask?

Fic Recs

After by @zorthania

Promises by @world-war-eruri

One last night (To say goodbye) by @darkcyradis

remember these walls we built (chapter 25) by @galpalpetraral

Almost by @lostcauses-noregrets

At Last... by @lostcauses-noregrets

Promise by @lostcauses-noregrets

#levi ackerman #erwin smith #hanji zoe #eruri #levi meta #fic rec #lostcauses meta #zeke yeager #eren yeager #snk #snk 132

245 notes · View notes

shimmershae · 3 years

Text

My thoughts on Episode 3--Hunted.

Most of you lovelies already realize this, but my thoughts tend to zig and zag quite a bit, lol. So. To save some of you the headache and spare you from seeing spoilers you’d rather not see yet, I’m again placing them behind a cut.

First things first. I have totally turned into Yvette Nicole Brown with her TWD notebooks, lol, and I’m not even sorry. I just felt like it would be fun to go back when the final episode is in the books and see how well my thoughts from these early episodes line up with what I’m feeling when we say our (not-so) final goodbyes.

But that’s enough about that. Let’s get to this thing.

It really is insane how very much I love Melissa McBride. Just hearing her doing the previously on TWD recap voiceover makes me ridiculously happy.

Cole! Dude! We hardly knew ya.

Not gonna lie. That first shot of Maggie in all the chaos reminded of a shirt I’ve seen. It says--”Well, well, well. If it isn’t the consequences of my actions.”

I have to hand it to Angela and the rest of her team. These opening scenes--on all 3 episodes--have been BOMB so far. They really hook you in right away. At least IMHO.

I realize I’m behind the game on this little tidbit, but how much do I adore the fact that Dog is now in the opening credits?

Okay. Alexandria might look like it’s been on some kind of post-apocalyptic bender but all our girls are looking beautiful as ever. Maybe it’s Maybelline, lol.

I love to see Kelly and Carol still gravitating toward each other. It really speaks to each woman’s heart. Carol wants to make amends so badly and Kelly just has the most lovely, warm, forgiving heart.

Carol’s point about Alexandria still needing the horses to help with the heavy lifting and pointing out the walls and rebuilding won’t matter quite as much if they’re limited by their hunger and what they can physically lift on their own isn’t wrong. But I’m sure the same viewers that were okay with Daryl and Co. going out on Maggie’s suicide mission (using the same reasoning) and saying it made sense for the bigger picture will pretend not to recognize that the same element is there in Carol’s desire to go out there and look for the horses. You know. Because it was Carol’s idea and not that of their fave(s).

Aaron, Man. Or maybe I should say Angela. You just had to put a pit of dread in my belly mentioning Buttons like that. RIP, Buttons. You deserved better. I’m still traumatized.

Look at all the babies bonding. Look at RJ getting to sit at the big kid table.

“My mom always comes back.” She damn well better. Those babies need her. Until she does, though, Uncle Daryl and Aunt Carol (and Aunt Rosita and everybody else) are going to be there.

Anyway. Poor RJ. He barely ever gets any lines, lol.

Hershel and Judith are obviously the mini-adults in this group and baby Rhee is already more cynical and jaded than his sweet daddy was until they reached Alexandria and the wheels started to come off.

So. Does Maggie just think everybody’s already dead here or what? Hmm.

You know. Any building can be creepy AF when the lights are off and it’s dark, lol. Any building.

So much darkness so far this season. I’m going to have to invest in some blackout curtains. I just know it.

Where are all those stairs leading? Why am I thinking of Hitchcock? Am I mixing up my scary, suspenseful movies? Probably.

Of fucking course, Maggie dropped her flashlight. Thank goodness she had that lighter at the ready just before Ghost Face Reaper took a swipe at her.

Is that Father G with a screwdriver impaled in his thigh? Listen. These people deserve a Mega Bottle of pain killers and a week just vegging out in a soft, luxurious bed.

All these horror movie tropes. Some of them are cheesy, yes. But I’m totally here for it.

LMAO. That’s it, Maggie. A good old punch in the nuts works every time.

Alden really is having a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day.

Negan is still Negan. Self-serving and looking out for number one. But I believe the man really does feel the group is his group too. He’s like that long lost, sketchy uncle nobody wants to acknowledge much less invite to the dinner table, but that bond? However thin? Is there.

I am both hating that Maggie is being forced to work with the man that murdered her husband (my baby Glenn) and finding it fascinating the lengths she’s willing to go to survive. This your plan, Angela?

Rosita and Carol! How sad is it that the last really significant scene I can remember the two of these women sharing was way back? Before Rick and Co. attacked Negan’s outpost and Maggie and Carol were subsequently taken? If only the show had done more of these kind of scenes.

How much do I love all the girls working together? Gimps would never. They’d all be stuck back at Alexandria minding the kids and the community.

Shallow aside--Rosita is so pretty in this scene.

Rosita being worried about Carol honestly makes my heart hurt, because it’s about damn time more of them actually did. Her saying Abraham is trying to tell her something in her dreams is interesting. Angela sure loves her dreams, doesn’t she?

Where are Daryl’s dreams, hmm? No. Seriously. I guess they want to give some viewers plausible deniability until the bitter end.

“Really? We’re just gonna go toward the screaming? Cool.” Hahaha. You know. Even the smart people in horror movies sometimes bite it, Negan. Just saying. Maggie really does need to “stop running up the staircase” when she could just run out the front door though, lol.

Poor Duncan. I think you could have been another Tyreese, Jerry type for me.

WTF does this show have against horses? Those poor creatures.

Kelly is totally me right now. I’d be freaking inconsolable.

Carol needed that hug. Thank you, Magna. From the bottom of this tired fangirl’s heart, thank you.

Why give us that beautiful, golden shot with the horses when you’re planning to stab us through the heart later and twist the knife. Oh. Yeah. That’s exactly why.

Oh snap! Father G’s delivery when he tells that Reaper “I’m not. God isn’t here anymore.” Cold as ice.

Judas. That the Reapers’ work. Or. Damn. Either way, that’s harsh.

Back to what Alden was saying. All these oprhaned children. Who’s going to take on Adam if he dies? That poor kid has had a rough go of it. Knowing that, makes you wonder what Alden was thinking volunteering for the suicide mission.

Omigosh. There went Agatha. Terrible way to go. Right, Beatrice?

I’m sobbing. Carol with the horse. That hurt my baby so much but she hurt herself for her family the same way she has been doing since the Prison. Melissa Mcbride? When she cries, I cry. Every effin’ time. Aaron being there just made it hurt more. But at least someone was there to see how and really take in how she continues to break pieces of herself off to keep her family as whole and safe and happy as she can.

Rewinding a minute--that Magna and Carol conversation. I get Magna’s reasoning too. I do. But Angela is just making everything so dire right now so that the sun when Connie is ultimate found shines a ltitle brighter.

Those babies know they’re eating horse. I could never.

That’s got to be a different Coco. She’s even smaller. But she’s gorgeous.

Fucking finally. Angela having the other characters notice after an eternity of being blind to it, just how much Carol sacrifices of herself for them. It’s so long overdue and I imagine Rosita’s even more worried for Carol now. It’s a shame it’s taken 11 seasons. My baby’s had blood on her hands trying to keep her family safe and whole and happy and fed for a long damn time. So heartbreaking watching her try to scrub the blood away.

Sweet, sweet hug that Kelly gave Magna. She’s such a sweetheart kid sis to all of them, isn’t she?

Interesting place of refuge. A gutted church. A visual symbol, Angela, of where Maggie and the rest of our people are now perhaps?

“It’s easy for you, isn’t it? Being reckless with sombody’s life...” Maggie. Maggie. Those words would have hit so much harder if we hadn’t spent the majority of the last 2.5 episodes watching you ignore sound advice just because it came out of the mouth of somebody you (justifiably) hate.

But will Alden be there when Maggie and Negan get back? That is the question. Or will he eventually Lucille himself?

That little bit of lineup Negan music to remind the audience of Negan lovers and sympathizers that he once took great pleasure in murderously swinging a bag at people’s heads was a nice, subtle touch there. Like agree with her or not, Maggie is literally left to rely on the hope, however small it is, that Negan has changed just enough that he won’t try to finish a job he taken on years before--killing what’s left of her.

Oh lawd. Next episode sees the return of a character literally nobody asked for. How excited am I not?

Dog better not be harmed or so help me.

Now for Angela’s weekly explanations of WTF she/there were thinking because they been doing this plausible deniability thing so long some people out there watching with biased, muddy stan glasses can no longer separate head canon from canon.

Is Maggie worried at all about Daryl or does she just assume his superhero powers are in full effect in this episode?

“You can’t really say it wasn’t going to happen anyway.” Not Angela pointing out that simply laying the blame for literally everything bad that ever happens at Carol’s feet isn’t the answer. Say it louder for those in the back. Alpha was going to do what Alpha wanted to do.

“There is love there. There is respect there. However, there’s also frustration...” You damn skippy. Friendships and human relationships are complex AF. Like Carol. She’s honestly one of the most complicated characters on this show and any show, IMHO. That’s what makes her so memorable and such a lightning rod for discussion.

I know I might be in a minority, but I really feel like they need more of those little scenes between the kids to keep things real.

Kang saying she always feels like she’s going to get murdered in a staircase or parking lot is relatable, funny, and sad all at the same time. It’s a girl thing.

Why is Carol’s story giving me Dark Knight vibes? Like I feel like she’ll gladly shoulder the burden of their distrust, their hate, or their judgment as long as the hard choices she makes keeps them safe. And she’s still ultimately going to come back to save their asses even when they forsake her. Just like Bruce Wayne/Batman. Am I reaching too far, lol? Because sometimes I do that.

Anyway. This is the third episode of the season and the third episode in a row that I mostly enjoyed. I don’t know if I’m just so relieved and happy to have all the characters and my show back or what, but overall? I’ve been pleased with the episodes and found something to love in all of them.

There’s a much stronger horror vibe woven throughout Season 11 so far. I feel like it’s a return to the roots of the show and I like that. Literally none of the characters are making perfect choices and this viewer is here for it. My only complaint so far is there hasn’t been enough Carol but what we’ve been given has felt like a gift and significant in a way that Gimps’ version was not. Also? I really hope the trend of the ladies working together and supporting each other continues because they rule the TWD world, lol.

Hope you enjoyed at least some of my TWD word vomit.

Until next episode.

#The Walking Dead #Season 11 #TWD spoilers #things that make me smile and cry #for reasons #my heart

12 notes · View notes

cloudaura93 · 3 years

Text

Fall for You Pt.2 - Cindy/Alice Fanfiction (FEAR STREET)

Synopsis: SPOILER WARNING. Please don’t read if you haven’t watched the whole series. The second part of this story. Picks up at the end of the first part and covers the ending of the 1978 massacre flashback. I have an idea for a smaller final story to wrap everything up. Cindy and Ziggy are trying to reunite Sarah Fier’s hand with her body to stop the curse meanwhile Alice is helping in her own way as best she can given the circumstances. AU with alternating POVs between Alice and Cindy.

Alice’s POV:

I hear Cindy and Ziggy flee the cabin as I struggle to subdue Tommy, my former friend and current possessed killer. He throws me off, recovers, and lifts me up by my neck slowly squeezing my windpipe, and then decides to toss me through the front doors of the cabin instead of strangulation. I land hard with a thud on my back while also smacking my head on the ground.

“Ouch.” I say under my breath as I slowly sit up and start scrambling to my feet. I see Tommy slowly approaching with the axe in hand, and I realize I either need to run away or find a weapon. A weapon. Of course. I reach down and remove the knife from the sheath Cindy used as part of the splint to support my fucked up leg.

“Here goes nothing.” I whisper as I launch myself toward him. When I’m a couple feet away, I throw the knife toward his face where it hits its mark squarely in his left eye as I dodge to the right, narrowly avoiding the impact from the axe swing. It momentarily stuns him as I start hobbling away to hide. I hope I bought Cindy and Ziggy enough time. I hope they are still alive because I’ll be damned if I let some stupid ass curse ruin my life further especially after I just got my girl back. We deserve happiness too.

I expect Tommy to continue pursuing me, but instead I turn around and realize that he is heading in the opposite direction.

“Oh shit!” I exclaim as it hits me that I was only a distraction, and the main target is Ziggy who is at the Hanging Tree with her sister trying to reunite Sarah Fier’s hand to her body. I instantly swivel around and limp behind killer Tommy moving as fast as I can. I try to keep up to hopefully have a chance to warn the girls as they try to stop this carnage once and for all.

We are approaching our mutual destination a few minutes later, and I notice out of my peripheral vision that I’m too late to help. I watch my beautiful snitch getting brutalized by her ex-boyfriend’s axe at the same time Ziggy is being repeatedly stabbed by the Milkman. It’s like some horrible plaguing nightmare, all playing out in slow motion while I’m about thirty seconds away, but hopeless to do anything to help.

“NOOOO!” I scream out in agony as I collapse to the ground on my knees ignoring the piercing pain in my leg.

As I’m crying for a few seconds, it suddenly goes quiet and I glance up to see all the Shadyside killers have disappeared. I instinctively crawl on my knees toward the girls’ bodies hoping to say goodbye. I’m almost to Cindy when I hear the rustling of footsteps next to me.

“Alice?!” He says, and I recognize the voice. Nick Goode. Of course he’s here. Fucking Sunnyvale’s prodigal son. The savior. The knight in shining armor trying to rescue the poor surviving Shadyside campers.

“Save her Nick! Save Ziggy!” I shout through choked back sobs willing him to understand my meaning as I sadly reach my girlfriend, and grasp her hand letting the tears flow down my cheeks. I couldn’t save Cindy, but I can at least attempt to keep her sister alive.

“I will. I promise. And Alice? I’m sorry.” Before I can even react, I feel a stinging sensation in my back and as my vision fades to black, I realize that this is how I’m going to die. With a whimper, not a bang. Alone and betrayed by Nick fucking Goode. A literal backstabber. You unimaginable bastard. We were so close. Not that it matters anymore. No one will remember us, and our sacrifice. This will just be another unfortunate and bloody tale of the cursed town of Shadyside. The infamous Camp Nightwing massacre of 1978.

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

Cindy’s POV:

As Ziggy and I are digging down to find Sarah Fier’s body, we stumble upon something hard that we hit with the shovels.

“I found something!” Ziggy states excitedly. I hold my breath as I help her unearth whatever was buried underneath the tree. It’s a rock with an engraving on it.

“The witch forever lives.” I shakily gasp out.

“The witch forever lives.” My little sister repeats the statement before following up with “Cindy, what does it mean? Cindy?!” She asks worriedly.

“I don’t know.” I answer softly.

“What...where is she? Where’s the body?”

“I don’t know.” I replied. We share a look first at each other and then at Tommy who is on our tails.

“This way. Come on.” I continue as I grab Ziggy’s arms and drag her up so we can attempt to run away. We turn around and realize that the other Shadyside killers are also here quickly approaching from every direction.

“What do you want, Sarah Fier? You want this?” As I hold up her hand. “You can have it. Just let my sister live. Just let my sister live!” I plead. I drop the hand next to the hole we dug in frustration and grab one of the shovels.

I realize sadly that there is no escape, at least not for me. But I can protect Ziggy as best I can and give her a fighting chance.

“You bled on the bone. They are after you. Get ready to run.” I tell her sadly. I’m so sorry Ziggy. I’m so sorry Alice. I wish we had more time to spend together, to make up for lost time. I tried my best but I failed both of you again. I love you so much. I’ll see you again.

“No Cindy no!” I hear her cry out at the realization of my decision. I hurriedly take hold of her arm again and we start sprinting together. At the last second however, I push her aside and swing the shovel at Tommy where I connect with his head but he immediately retaliates with a smack to my head with the axe’s blunt end.

I fall down onto the ground hard helpless as I glance out of the corner of my eye to hear Ziggy screaming while being attacked by the Milkman at the same time the axe collides with my chest piercing my insides. Tommy strikes me repeatedly and as blood begins gurgling out of my mouth, I turn my head to face my baby sister who I notice is reaching out her hand toward me. I reciprocate the gesture and say one last thing to her knowing this is the end.

“Nothing...will...pull...us...apart…” I gasp my final breath as the world goes dark and my eyes slowly close and I feel myself fading away.

Some time later…

Cindy’s POV:

“Cindy. Wake up. You need to see this...to understand.” A disembodied voice whispers in my ear. I struggle to regain consciousness as I hear the faint sounds of terror around me.

“This is important. Please wake up.” The voice repeats itself. I stir and slowly attempt to stand as I’m feeling wobbly on my feet. Once my balance returns, I instantly realize that I feel different than I did when I was alive not too long ago.

“Where...where am I?” I ask the voice which has a feminine tone to it.

“Not quite sure. All I know is this is where the poor unfortunate souls who have attempted to thwart the Goode family’s treachery end up after they die. It’s sort of like limbo and you are a ghost observing the effects of the curse until one day it can finally end.”

I nod in understanding as I look around and realize that I’m standing at the edge of the clearing where the Hanging Tree is located.

“Sarah Fier.” I reply, finally figuring it out.

“Yes. It’s me. I tried to warn you. I’ve always tried warning everyone who stumbles upon the curse. No one has ever figured it out completely. You were the closest, but alas you ran out of time just like the others.” She answers sadly.

“Will she live? Did I save my sister at least?” I inquire as I stare at Ziggy who is slowly dying.

“No. You did your best, but ultimately failed. Your girlfriend fared slightly better, but will still pay the ultimate price.” Sarah replies as she teleports us closer to the tree. I stare in shock as I notice my dear sweet Alice stumbling toward my body.

“Alice! No! I have to help her!” I cry out desperately wanting to save her from her fate as Nick Goode drives a knife deep into her back where she collapses onto my corpse, the light leaving her eyes as she bleeds out.

“She’s gone, but your sister will live. Nick Goode will see to it. Take solace that she survives. And your dear Alice will join us shortly so you will be reunited. You won’t share this existence alone..” Sarah nonchalantly explains.

As if on command, I hear soft footsteps from behind and spin around to face my badass and brave girlfriend.

“Hey snitch.” She greets with a smirk. I race over and embrace her by wrapping my arms around her neck, tears misting at my eyes. She instinctively wraps her arms around my waist and pulls me closer. We hold each other for a couple minutes until I have to ask her a very important question.

“What took you so long?” I whisper in her ear echoing the last time I said that to her when we were still alive. She pulls back from the hug and grasps both my hands with her own.

“Three guesses. Besides, I couldn’t leave you to face this uncertain future alone. You are stuck with me now princess. For better or worse. Not letting you go this time” She beams.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I smile and close the gap between us to gently kiss her on the lips.

Despite recent events, I still have hope. Alice and I get to spend eternity together even though we are both dead, and Ziggy lives even with survivor’s guilt. It’s not a perfect happy ending, but I’ll take what I can get. It’s better than what most Shadysiders get to experience in their lives.

And since we have been given a second chance to fix our mistakes and help prevent the spilling of more innocent bloodshed, it means we have a chance to help the next generation. To help Sarah stop the Goode family from continuing to enact this curse over Shadyside. Alice and I just need to watch over Ziggy until she’s ready, and then bide our time until the opportunity presents itself to intervene. This time we will be ready, and revenge is a dish best served cold. We are coming for you Nick Goode, one way or another.

The End?

#fear street 1978 #fear street #fear street 1994 #fear street 1666 #horror #fanfiction #cindy/alice #cindy berman #alice fear street #f/f #fanfic #lgbtq #netflix #rl stine

7 notes · View notes

kittinoir · 3 years

Text

Phantoms Ch. 14

Read on Ao3

Marinette couldn’t stop screaming.

Not in a way that anyone could hear, but the inside of her head was a shrill banshee call, heralding the death of her soul mate. Stupid, stupid, stupid. That was the only word that registered, occasionally breaking through that wordless wail before vanishing again.

It was our love that did this to the world.’

How could she have believed him? How had she taken that as the one honest thing Chat Blanc had said in that other world, that other time? Had it been the truth of her name lending weight to it? Was it because, even then, she’d been afraid he was right? Hadn’t she always assumed that truly pursuing Adrien would inevitably mean falling apart when she couldn’t be honest with him or prioritize a relationship?

It had been a hint, like flicking the bell. He hadn’t been telling her their love had ended the world. He’d been telling her how he knew her identity - that he loved her, and more importantly, that she loved him back. That if indeed it was their love that had destroyed everything, it was also their love that fixed it. That together, they were unstoppable. Even if he hadn’t been able to free himself from the akuma, Chat Blanc was still her partner, and he’d still been fighting with her, not against her. He’d been counting on her being smarter than her fear. He’d under-estimated how strong that fear was.

Or had he?

Had discovering Hawk Moth’s identity been the trigger last time, too? Had he known that in some timeline, some where, this discovery would be inevitable? And that when it came, Hawk Moth would take advantage of it? Had Chat Blanc tried to give her every warning he could, so that when the time came, she’d be ready?

In the present, caught up against Chat Blanc’s chest, his arm an iron band around her torso, Marinette couldn’t help but feel the effort had been wasted. But a small part of her protested. She was right. She could feel it in the way Adrien’s hand cupped her cheek, his fingertips just brushing the shell of her ear, his nails scraping her earring: hesitation.

“I suppose you were wrong, Marinette,” he cooed as his thumb caressed her cheekbone. “All that agony, for nothing. We could have been happy.”

“We will be,” she promised as he started to reach for her earring. “I promise. I’ve got it figured out now.”

Marinette slammed her elbow back, hissing as she made contact with Chat Blanc’s very solid torso. It wasn’t enough to hurt him or even break his hold, but it surprised him enough that he loosened his grip, just for a moment. It was enough; Marinette slipped from his grasp and rolled, calling Tikki as she went. In seconds, Ladybug was back on her feet and dodging Chat Blanc’s blows as she reassessed the situation.

Chloe had survived the blast that had nearly struck them with minimal injuries. She was watching Ladybug and Chat Noir spar with narrowed eyes, her mouth set in a determined line. Viperion was no where to be seen, and Ladybug had to assume he was incapacitated, or he never would have let her end up in Chat Blanc’s deadly embrace.

A shadow moved over Chat Blanc’s shoulder and she registered Koira slipping up behind him. Ladybug adjusted her tactic to him, but it didn’t feel as natural as it did with Chat Noir. It was like missing the last step on the stairs. She couldn’t be sure Koira understood what she was doing.

“Why won’t you help me, Marinette?” Chat Blanc said as he slipped closer again. “This is our chance to finally be rid of Hawk Moth. All I need is your Miraculous!”

“He’s manipulating us, Chat Noir,” she panted as she skipped back, dodging a series of small cataclysms. Where had Ryuuko gone? Was she down, too? “Just like always. We can’t win like this!”

“Maybe you can’t,” he conceded with a swipe, “But I can. Koira was right; we can’t beat him on our terms.” A boom shook the room as another explosion hit the wall. Concrete rained down.

Ladybug swept her leg out, but he avoided her easily. “What are you talking about?!”

“People like Hawk Moth are always one step ahead because there’s no line they won’t cross, nobody they won’t sacrifice to win.”

“And so you’re willing to sacrifice me now?”

She doubted anyone else would have noticed it, but she knew him, and so she saw it - he wavered.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Marinette,” he said, “But Gabriel needs to pay.”

“This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Koira said as he finally made his move. He surged up behind Chat Blanc and hooked his arms behind his back. “There’s toeing the line and then there’s crossing it, and I think you’ll find yourself ill suited to the latter.”

“Coward,” Chat Blanc hissed. “I should have known.” He gave a mighty heave and pulled Koira over his shoulder, sending him flying.

It was our love that did this to the world.

Marinette hated those movies - the ones where love was the answer.

Love had never been the answer for her. It had only ever caused her problems. Hollywood loved to prop love up as some sort of cure-all answer, as if it were anything without trust, and hard work, and respect. Love didn’t deakumatize people - she did. Love hadn’t led them to Hawk Moth’s lair - Chloe had.

But somehow she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it was the only thing that would save Adrien now. He would have to choose. It had to be stronger than his hatred. And it wasn’t a choice she could make for him.

Chat Blanc began to advance on her, but Ladybug just closed her eyes. “Tikki. Spots off.”

Her transformation dissolved in a familiar shower of cool red sparkles. Her heart pounded as she felt the wind from another cataclysm brush her cheek, but when she opened her eyes, she saw Chat Blanc had frozen, too. Even though it would be easy to over-power her now, he didn’t move.

“I won’t fight you,” she said calmly. She reached for her right ear. Though she never took them off, the stud slipped easily enough from the lobe.

“Marinette!” Tikki zoomed in front of her face. “What are you doing!”

“What I have to,” Marinette said. She pulled the other stud from her ear, and Tikki vanished. She cupped the jewelry in her palm for the briefest moment. Then she held out her hand.

Chat Blanc’s eyes narrowed. “What is this.”

Marinette’s voice was steady as she said, “This is what you want. Right?”

Confusion crossed Chat Blanc’s face. “Yes, I - ” He took a halting step toward her.

“You’re right,” she said. “Gabriel will sacrifice anything to win. Maybe you’re willing to make that choice right now, too. But I won’t. I can’t. I won’t sacrifice us. Not ever again.”

He was in front of her then, the face that had haunted her for weeks just inches from her own. It didn’t scare her anymore.

“Marinette.” She refused to look away as he laid one white hand over her upturned palm. He felt like ice, but she didn’t move. “I’m sorry, my love. He has to pay.”

She said nothing as they stood there, balancing on a knife’s edge. She would not cajole him. She would not fight him. He had to want their future as much as she did. He had to believe it was possible. He had to want it more than he wanted revenge. She couldn’t make him; she wouldn’t waste her time trying. But she wouldn’t let Hawk Moth take this from her, too.

“All these years,” a deep voice said from the back of the room. “I never imagined Ladybug would just hand over her Miraculous.”

Distantly, Marinette’s nerves twinged: Hawk Moth would know her identity. It was a distant thought, there, then gone, not even significant enough to really register. Marinette felt more than she saw Chat Blanc stiffen, then slowly turn. She knew she should look as well, especially when Hawk Moth was addressing her directly, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Chat Blanc’s face. It was devoid of anything but icy, unforgiving rage. She had miscalculated. There would be no mercy today.

“A deal is a deal, Chat Noir,” Hawk Moth said as he stepped out from behind a silver canister at the back of the room. “Or is it Chat Blanc now?”

“You won’t live long enough for it to matter one way or the other,” Chat Blanc snarled, but even as his fingers contracted around her hand, he didn’t take the earrings.

“We’re not so different,” Hawk Moth said as though they were talking about the weather. “True, you lack any real fore-thought or follow-through, but our motivations are similar enough. Surely you of all people can understand the things we do for true love?”

Even Marinette blinked at that one. Of all the reasons she’d lain awake at night trying to imagine what drove the man, love had never even crossed her mind. It was impossible to imagine Hawk Moth loving anything other than the terror he perpetuated.

But her surprise was nothing compared to the all-encompassing horror that stifled even the beating of her heart as Hawk Moth pressed a button on the side of the cylinder he still stood beside and the lid slid back to reveal Emilie Agreste, looking for all the world like an enchanted queen cursed to eternal slumber.

Chat Blanc convulsed at the sight as though Hawk Moth had dealt him a physical blow. For all her time as Ladybug, the girl with the right idea at the right time, Marinette couldn’t get her brain to work. She hadn’t anticipated this. Who could have?

“All I want is to bring her back,” Hawk Moth was saying. “One wish to fix the damage. Surely you can understand that? Surely there’s nothing you wouldn’t do…to save the one you love?”

Marinette shuddered as she felt Hawk Moth’s gaze land on her again. She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t help but consider his words - if it were Adrien in the chamber, was there anything she wouldn’t do to save him?

It was impossible to know, but she could guess: losing Adrien would be better than Emilie’s suspended state and the monster she’d become to try and undo it. Adrien wouldn’t want it, and neither would she.

Chat Blanc was shaking. His fingers were tight around hers, but he wasn’t hurting her. This was it, Marinette knew. The moment had arrived. The hope she’d been holding onto when she’d called off her transformation had died when that casket lid had slid back to reveal Emilie’s face. Marinette knew his mother was the person Adrien loved most in the world. Now Hawk Moth was presenting him with a chance to bring her back. It wasn’t his fault. It was hers. She’d gambled. She’d failed to anticipate that Hawk Moth might have one more card to play. She was going to lose Adrien, and she had no one to blame but herself.

Chat Blanc’s hand scraped against hers. His back bowed like a reed in the wind, so sharply she thought it might break. And then the bell at his throat cracked. It fell to the floor in two pieces, and a scarred black butterfly emerged from the remains. The white suit dissolved as though the black one had devoured it whole, and when he finally straightened, Marinette saw that his eyes were the clear, beautiful green she knew.

“I’d worry about saving yourself,” Chat Noir panted, his voice promising violence. “Cataclysm.”

Chat Noir didn’t spare her a glance as he curled her fingers back over the earrings. Marinette didn’t waste anytime slipping them back on as her partner lead the charge. Through the haze of her transformation, she saw Koira follow Chat Noir’s lead.

“Lucky Charm!” Ladybug was already running as she snatched the spotted bottle from the air. She dodged another piece of falling concrete. “Fabric dye?” She scanned the room, but the only thing that lit up was Hawk Moth.

Movement out of the corner of her eye snagged her attention. Ladybug’s heart leapt into a gallop as she spied Chloe sneaking closer to the battle, but no sooner did she begin to shout a warning than did Chloe light up as well.

“Ok, ok, I get it,” Ladybug muttered. Her earrings ticked down to four minutes, which meant Chat Noir had three. “Time to end this once and for all.”

Ladybug loosed her yoyo, but Hawk Moth evaded it easily. Chat Noir ducked in as she pulled her yoyo back. He swiped at Hawk Moth with his cataclysm, but Hawk Moth evaded that, too.

“You’re children,” he spat as he sent Koira sprawling. “I have nothing but time. You can’t possibly think you have a chance.”

That was when Ladybug saw the plan come together, as surely as she saw all the players standing there now. Her earrings chimed two minutes.

“We don’t need a chance,” Ladybug panted as she feinted to the left. “Just a little bit of luck.”

Chloe shot to her feet behind Hawk Moth and struck him with the piece of chain still attached to her wrist, hard. He wouldn’t feel it through the Miraculous, not really, but it was enough of a distraction. Ladybug slipped under his guard as he turned to face the new threat. She squeezed the bottle, squirting undiluted dye directly into Hawk Moth’s eyes. He never even saw Chat Noir coming.

But Ladybug saw it all.

The way Chat Noir came from above. The paw pad on his ring flashing its last moments. The butterfly Miraculous shattering from the force of the cataclysm. And the twin flashes of green and purple as both transformations dissolved.

NO.” Gabriel clutched the tie pin at his throat as though he could will it back together as he stumbled from the impact. And then his gaze landed on Adrien.

Gabriel’s eyes flew wide as he regarded his son and said, “You. You? This whole time - ”

“I think you’ll find we are equally disappointed, Father.” Adrien’s voice was cold, colder than Ladybug had ever heard it. She sensed Gabriel’s move before he made it; there was no avoiding her yoyo now. She caught him mid-lunge, and he dropped to his knees.

“Gabriel Agreste,” Ladybug said, her voice steady. She’d imagined this moment a thousand times, but never thought his name would be the one she’d utter. “Your reign of terror ends now.” And then she leaned over and tore the damaged Miraculous from his throat. “I told you this was how it would end.”

But Gabriel only smirked. “If you think this is the end, you are very much mistaken.”

A white flash from the opposite side of the room caught their attention. Pegasus was half-hanging out of a portal, Ryuuko beside him. “I heard you were ready for an escape route,” Pegasus called.

“You heard right,” Koira said. Then he swept Chloe up, ignoring the way she immediately started howling like a banshee.

“I can walk,” she snapped, kicking her legs, even if the kicks were on the feeble side.

“I have no doubt,” Koira said dryly. “Unfortunately you seem to have trouble following instructions.” They vanished through the portal.

“Viperion’s down,” Ladybug said, turning back to Adrien.

“On it,” he said. He stood and, without looking at his father, strode for the back of the room.

Cement dust continued to trickle down from the cracks throughout the room. Somewhere, a creak sounded ominously. Ladybug clutched the dye bottle in her hand, bracing herself. “Miraculous Lady - ”

Marinette’s transformation dissolved and her Lucky Charm turned to dust in her hand, the Miracle Cure abruptly beyond her grasp. Before she could blink, Ryuuko was there, her rapier beneath Gabriel’s chin before he could move. He chuckled.

“I suppose there’s no magical cure this time, is there, Ms. Dupain-Cheng?”

She got the feeling he wasn’t talking about the damage caused in the basement room. “Not this time, no. Take him.”

Ryuuko nodded, took Gabriel firmly by the arm, and escorted him through the portal. Marinette took a breath. Then another. And another. It was over. It was finally over. Hawk Moth’s reign had finally come to an end. She squeezed her fingers, felt the jagged edges of the damaged Miraculous bite into her hand, a relic of their victory.

She took two steps towards the portal, but came up short when the long skirts of her dress caught on a piece of rubble. She tugged on the fabric, took one more step.

With a groan and ear-splitting <em>crack</em>, the damaged walls gave way and the ceiling caved in. Someone screamed.

Marinette plunged into oblivion.

#phantoms

3 notes · View notes

pastelchris · 3 years

Text

of blood and sacrifices.

❝ there was no joy in his expression, just a heavy bundle of pain and anger, as if he finally lost hope that they would see him as the good guy, too blinded by their fake beliefs to think out of the golden cage they were trapped in. ❞

† PAIRING › hong joshua x yoon jeonghan

† GENRES › heavy angst, oneshot, cult!au.

† WARNINGS › major character death, mentions of blood, mentions of knives and daggers, religious trauma, strong language.

author’s note: okay so, this was very rushed because i was listening to music and i came up with this, it’s still pretty messy so i’d call it a drabble?? but i hope you’ll still like it <3 i projected all of my religious trauma in this hehe. also! you can find a quick playlist i made with the songs i listened to while writing down here!

✞

jeonghan’s hands were trembling, everything around them seemed to rotate and fall, just like the tears from his face, salty reminders of the sins he committed, sparkling just like the stars that he used to see in the other’s eyes.

« listen to me shua- » he pleaded so pathetically that not even he could bear the sound of his own voice.

« no matter what they said to you alright? that’s all fucking bullshit, we’re not sick or twisted for god’s sake, if the heavens ever were to speak, they surely wouldn’t tell us that loving is a sin. »

« we were born sick my dear... » the other kept his stare fixed on the marble statue in front of them, his hands were dripping blood from holding- gripping the golden cross at the edge of the table like his life depended on it. which, ironically, was exactly what he thought.

« well then i’ll be damned if i give a fuck, shoot me right now i couldn’t care less! in fact- » he got up, opening his hands just like the Christ behind him, letting out a dry laugh.

« i couldn’t give less fucks of your stupid words, of Their stupid words. may i be blessed right? fixed, stripped o-of this- this sin that ruins me everyday right? they fucking brainwashed you shua, now c’mon and look at me right in the ey- »

« I FOUND THEM, COME HERE »

from that moment, everything felt unreal, starting from the group of people that stormed inside the church, to the side of a knife caressing his neck, keeping him in place;

he saw his lover looking up and praying; he knew they weren’t going to hurt him, or so he hoped, nothing would matter anymore if they took his life.

« keep him in place. jeonghan, you idiotic brat, you really couldn’t keep that mouth shut am i right? you really had to-»

« take me to church, i’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies, i’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knives- » jeonghan smiled devilishly while singing to him.

« offer me that deathless death, oh good god! let me give you my life! » he mocked, locking hands on a fake prayer, he made sure that shua’s eyes were closed, too busy praying to pay attention to his sinful lover, who knew he wasn’t going anywhere that night.

he yanked one of the men away from himself, crawling then to the pastor’s feet, looking up at him with a fake pleading stare.

« i’m sorry father, i truly am.....truly.... »

there was a moment of silence,

in which everything seemed to stop,

in which his now fake tears rolled down the cheekbones, to the chin and then falling on his neck and collarbones;

a moment in which he started to smile, a painfully hilarious smile, as if he wasn’t able to take anything seriously anymore, just like his eyes, there was no joy in his expression, just a heavy bundle of pain and anger, as if he finally lost hope that they would see him as the good guy, too blinded by their fake beliefs to think out of the golden cage they were trapped in.

« i truly am sorry that you’ve ended up believing the words from an old boring book and worshipping a fake god, losing both sanity, pride and soul, but see... » he said, slowly getting up, he lessened the space between his and the pastor’s face, still smiling from cheek to cheek, he turned the palms of his hands to face the ceiling, raising his shoulders.

« we’re all gonna die in the end, my love. but when i go- » he turned to face joshua, who was looking at the statue in front of him, cornered by a bunch of guards praying with him, jeonghan smiled, he knew the other was going to be alright, and that was all that mattered to him.

« when i go, don’t cry for me dear- » he continued, caressing the pastor’s warm cheek with a finger.

« because where i’m going, there’s no such thing as slaughter, and everything you preach as right, see- where i am going, none of that matters, we’re bound to live in eternity as one alone, so nothing you’ve preached here will matter. but before i go, i have a last question. » he asked, pushing a dagger on his waist. « do you really think i am going to listen to one of your nonsen-» he ignored him.

« was it at least worthy? all those killed, all those poor souls you extirpated like weed just because they weren’t like you, all those families left without a father, a mother, a brother, all those lovers left alone....was it worthy staining your hands with blood forever? because my dear, i may be a sinful wench, i may be the worst you’ve ever seen, a crazy bastard, a crooked soul. but you see, none of that will matter one day, while your hands, those will stain blood forever, no matter how much you try to wash it off, they will stain and stink and it’ll slowly poison you from inside, so, good luck with that.» he chuckled, looking at the pastor getting paler and paler by the second, he glanced at joshua, who gulped feeling his gaze upon him.

« and to you, my dear, my sun and light, be careful who you side with, there’s more sickness and crookedness here than you might ever think.» he then pushed it, it wasn’t an epic scene, blood started leaping from his side, and his body pathetically fell on the ground, getting heavier and weaker by the second, then everything got blurred and nauseous.

they say while you die, you get seven seconds in which all your life flashes by your eyes. jeonghan thought it was bullshit, and now, staring at the intimidating white statue by him, more than his life, he saw all of his regrets flashing by.

was it really worthy?

was there a way to turn back time?

would he do it all the same then?

funny, he thought, how crazy a man had to be to see all of his mistakes flashing by and still decide to pick them all, make them all... and yet, the first thing he thought about was joshua, his golden wavy locks, his plump lips, candid smile, his infinite love for the god he oh so worshipped, still, it had been just a short sparkle of time he spent with him, and even so, even thought it’d been the death of him, he was glad to have died for him, he realized how the most dangerous thing is none of the ones he was taught about in his youth, at the end, the only one we are all willing to live, kill, die, is love.

he did it all three, and was now happily facing the consequences.

the end.

#svt scenarios #jeonghan #joshua #yoon jeonghan #hong joshua #seventeen #kpop #kpop scenarios #drabble #oneshot #religious trauma #aesthetic #angst #lgbtq #fanfic #jeonghan scenarios #joshua scenarios #Spotify

13 notes · View notes

free-to-be-impaled · 3 years

Text

In the Being Chapter 1: Last Night on Earth Summary: Dean had always believed that his life would end bloody. Fear not the title...I’m just a green day fan Read on ao3

He had always believed that his life would end bloody.

He couldn't actually remember a time when he didn't believe that at some level deep down. At first, it had been something he had wanted – to go out in the blaze of glory, like a warrior seeking out Valhalla.

Live fast. Die young. A rebel without a cause. In his youth, the notion had been appealing; he couldn't imagine a better possible outcome for his life. He was an outcast, but also a hero, and there was nothing more heroic than dying at the hands of a beast to save an innocent.

Dean should have twice died at 27.

His deaths were untimely unglamorous freak accidents that occurred as a side effect of a hunt gone wrong. Dean should have died bloody a long time ago. Instead, he would carry on with time twice borrowed; the blood from the men sacrificed for the Gospel of Winchester running through his veins. The first martyr was a man that had never met Dean; a healthy young teacher that had his heart stolen because he dared to be proud and live his life openly. His life was cut short because a preacher had condemned the man and from then on, Dean would live with a heart that was not his own.

So it goes.

The second had been his Father. A soul for a soul. Eternal damnation in the pits of hell, in turn, the first born would remain on earth to witness at least one more dawn. It had been done out of love but more importantly, it had been duty. There was still work left to do and it was Dean's duty to finish the job. It wouldn't be clear to him exactly what his duty was until he held the bloody corpse of his little brother in his arms.

Dean made the deal because it was his duty to look out for Sammy. Always had been, always would be. Dean would gift his brother life, just as his father had done before him, and he would embrace the flames of hell because his life was not his own. Not anymore, maybe it never had been.

Dean died bloody at 29, shredded by hell hounds and dragged to hell exactly a year after his bargain at the crossroads. It had been hopeless. It had been tragic. It had been expected.

Four months later, his body would be a temple rebuilt on a hill of dead angels. They battled and perished for the soul of the righteous man because God had commanded it and they were more than willing to comply. The sole survivor would piece Dean back together and loudly proclaim that Dean Winchester had been saved. Together, they would go on to save the world.

No Freedom. No Peace. Only duty.

After hell, Dean would continue to die. Some of the deaths he remembered, others he didn't. Some were his choice – reckless, desperate plans and suicide missions – others were not so much, being murdered rarely was.

Dean now died so no one else had to. But it didn’t matter what he wanted, the people around him still died while he lived on.

For the next ten years, Dean's life would be filled with pain, sacrifice, and death. There was heartbreak, there was loss, there was no escape. He was the hamster in the wheel, running for Chuck’s amusement.

Dean should have died at 41.

His death a tragedy borne from his fatal flaw – a result from letting his anger cloud his judgement again. Dean should have died bloody a long time ago. Instead, he would carry on living once more; the blood from the man who sacrificed himself for Dean, staining the shoulder of his jacket and the knife in his pocket. His last saviour was an angel that had known Dean; an ancient divine creature who had seen the ugliest corners of his soul and had gifted Dean his heart regardless, who had finally chosen to speak openly of his feelings for Dean in order to save his life. Eternal torment in the nothing of the Empty, in turn, the man he loved would have a fighting chance at freedom. It had been done out of love but more importantly – as Dean helplessly witnessed the black tendrils consume Cas’ form – from then on, Dean would live with a heart shattered into pieces.

So it fucking goes.

Life passed slowly after God had been defeated. Dean felt old. He was tired and he craved for some sort of normalcy outside of hunting. In his middle age, the endless carnage and the tragedy were far from appealing. However, what else was there for him to do? He had lived outside of society for so long that the only way he could help people was to hunt things.

He would continue to save lives, and maybe that would make up for the ones that had been lost for him. The last thing he wanted was to let down Cas, but if he went out trying to get some kids to safety – that would be his penance, like a sinner in Purgatory.

He had always believed that his life would end bloody.

But when the rebar impaled his back, he realized he wanted to do everything in his power so that it wouldn’t be true.

#dean winchester #spn fanfiction #destiel #my writing #self indulgent and overtly dramatic prose #fanfiction #fanfic

2 notes · View notes

astyle-alex · 3 years

Text

[FanFic] Start with Why | the Old Guard

This chapter just went live on Ao3, so I’m putting it up here too! I’ll still be posting the BatFam Kid!Fic, too, but that chapter will go up tomorrow!

Start With Why (Part 4 / 6)

Fandom: the Old Guard Pairings: Background Nicky x Joe Characters / Focus: OT5 + Copley, reacting to Booker's betrayal Rating: Gen Audiences Warnings: None (well, language, because the team are all quite colorful) Total Word Count: 10,288 Chapter Word Count: 1,535

Summary:

The thing about betrayal is that it hurts. Sometimes it hurts too much to see the broader situation clearly. But after Booker's betrayal, the team has to look at themselves and see how every one of them is culpable. Booker may have done the deed, but his measly 200 years makes him a child to the others, especially Andy, and like babysitters are to blame when their charge sets the curtains on fire, the Family needs to ask themselves WHY and accept the honest answers. Why Copley, Why Merrick, and Why something made Booker believe that his choice was the right one for his Family...

-----

|| Read on Patreon | Read on Ao3 ||

Part IV :: Joe

Booker betrayed him.

His brother betrayed them.

Joe’s own blood-oath brother of Fate betrayed them all like none of it mattered and he put Joe’s own sweet soul under the knife of callous torment, because he was too jealous and too weak and too short-sighted to know better.

Because he was too young to know better.

Nicky and Andy and Nile have all somehow resolved that they can forgive him— either they have already or know that they will, soon enough, come to it in time.

Joe cannot begin to fathom it.

Andy says Booker was a teenager trying to commit suicide and accidentally burning down the house, that he failed to see any of the realest consequences in his actions.

Nile says he’d simply found something that helped him see a sort of goodness he could finally believe in; says he met Copley, found a kindred spirit who believed in him, and wanted to do something good that actually gave him back some tangible reward— selfish bastard.

Even Nicky, Joe's own dear Nicolò, has fallen for the forger’s petty peddling.

Nicky believes him, believes that his reasons for nearly destroying everything good about Yusuf’s whole world were good enough reasons to make him truly think it could be worth it.

Joe will not forgive him, not ever. He has resolved to it, resolved to carry the hatred that the others cannot bear to shoulder. He will carry all of it for them, hate Booker for them. So, they can let the weight that comes from hating him so thoroughly rest outside their ardent souls.

For a moment, Joe isn’t sure he will survive it.

Hating Booker is like hating his own foot, like hating the run of charcoal his own fingers managed to get into his watering eye.

Booker is Family, Booker is his brother.

For a moment, Joe is very sure he will not survive this.

But then he looks at Nicky, his unfailingly kind and sweet beloved, his so-forgiving Nicolò, and hears the echoes of his dying screams on that bitch Kozak’s table… He sees shadows of Nicky’s brains being stepped in by the boot of that degenerate Keane after he’d shot Nicky in the head… And Joe feels such a blindingly hot fury at the prospect of letting anyone connected to that horror dare to live that he wants to find a way to kill Booker dead himself.

And yet, he’d hate to give the bastard what he wants.

Yusuf cannot talk to Booker, cannot stomach even thinking about it.

When he pushes up from the table, he doesn’t face the window when he storms away— instead, he goes outside the other way, tromping down onto the old cobbles that he’d been around to watch be laid. Most of them have been replaced since then.

Nicky appears beside him, eventually, as he finds one of the very few original stones left.

The love of Yusuf’s life doesn’t say anything, doesn’t touch him, doesn’t do anything but exist and be there and Joe already feels better for it— feels slightly more himself.

Which breeds a guilt like no other.

Nicky is here, but if were up to Booker, he wouldn’t be.

Nicky being here shouldn’t be what lets Joe not hate Booker for almost taking him away.

“That traitor’s head should be cut off,” Joe announces with a violent hand gesture that probably hasn’t been genuinely rude in a few hundred years. “Repeatedly, until it sticks.”

Nicky gives a slow blink that Joe finds inconsolably unreadable.

“I would’ve cut my own arm off, even if I knew it would not grow back, before I let a stranger say a bad word of him,” Joe wails. “I would have died, for good, to save him. I would have let myself leave you.”

Nicky does not say anything, he simply lets his sad eyes overflow with sympathy and understanding for how much just existing in this nightmare hurts.

“I hate him, Nicky,” Joe says, at a loss for words, a true rarity for him in his thousand years of life. “I hate him, and I hate that I hate him, but I hate the idea of not hating him even more than I hate this feeling.”

“You cannot hate him anymore than he hates himself,” Nicky states, and Joe feels like he’s been wrapped in a hug he didn’t know he needed, though Nicky’s hands are still in his pockets and he’s standing nigh on three full meters yet away.

Nicky will forgive him for hating Booker, Joe knows that.

He might not approve of the vitriol Joe bears their brother, certainly disapproves of the claim that any of that hatred is on Nicky's behalf, but Nicky will forgive him for it.

It makes Joe hate Booker even more.

“Your God is the vengeful one,” Joe accuses suddenly, hating himself even as the words fall from his lips. “Allah would never seek to add more suffering to this world, but your god should have filled you with His righteous fury.”

It was supposed to be an accusation, but Joe regrets it too much before he even speaks it to have managed to make the words come out with any barbs.

Instead it’s made a few tears squeeze out from the corners of his eyes.

“There is no righteousness in fury,” Nicky says, pulling the last dregs of wind from Joe’s sails with the simple and beautiful eloquence of the Divine.

Joe trembles, hands in fists, wishing he had Booker’s nose to break instead of just his own poor heart as Nicolò meets his gaze, unwavering.

“You and I have grown passed the banalities of organized religion, poorly built by broken men,” Nicky states eventually. “We fall back on scripture only when the doubt is fierce enough to quench the fire of our souls, but our souls are not like charcoal. We are not done burning once our fire has been made damp. The spark will reignite again, eventually, and we have our sure salvation in that we are blessed with time enough secured to wait until it does.”

“He killed Andy,” Yusuf wails, the only ember of his pain left burning.

At this, Nicky hardens— leans a fraction of an inch away.

To Yusuf, that fraction feels like miles and eternities.

“No, Yusuf. He did not,” Nicky states surely. “He shot her, fully expecting that she’d heal. Her time is her time, and it is not Booker’s Fate to bring her to it. Already, even having shot her, he did not stumble upon her time inadvertently. Even unaware that she could not heal, he did not introduce her to her Ferryman. All he tried to do was slow her down a little— In hope that he could somehow convince her if he explained.”

It’s a revelation to Joe, a reframing of the situation that actually matters.

It’s the difference between watching a sunrise through a window and seeing the full glory of it on the endless horizon of a jewel-toned desert.

Booker declared that he’d killed Andy.

He’d directly incited the wrath he believed he was due.

And Joe had given him his full fury for it.

Shame floods him, completely enough to snuff out the fury and turn it purely to despair.

“He still was willing to make me sacrifice you for his own pathetic reasons,” Joe says, feeling hollowed out and raw in a way he cannot fathom how to deal with. Just as he cannot fathom how the others have a depth of soul that can forgive such a heinous betrayal as Booker’s.

“I cannot forgive him,” Joe announces, “I cannot believe I will forgive him. Ever.”

“I’ll believe it for you,” Nicky supplies. “I’ll remind you who you are right now is not always all that you can be, and I will love every version of you I meet between this version and the one I know will come eventually— the one who will forgive his brother.”

Yusuf crumbles. His Nicolò still does not embrace him, but his soft smile props Joe up as steady as any arm might do.

“I hate him, Nicky,” Yusuf says, shuddering as he exorcises the vile sentiment from his soul. His voice is hardly strong enough to call a whimper. “I hate him more than I have ever hated anything, than I have ever hated you. I cannot breathe, I hate him so.”

“This will not kill you,” Nicky declares, “Your death is mine.”

It’s an old promise between them, sometimes an oath of self-righteous possession, from they each believed it was their Fate to kill the other, and sometimes it's a promise of a deep despair at the potential of the Veil dividing them.

Today, it makes Joe feel invincible— something he’d forgotten that he was.

He gives Nicky his own weak smile.

“My death is yours,” he says. Yusuf will never leave Nicky unless Nicky lets him go, Allah could not mean for them to be apart unless Nicky could truly bear it. And vice versa.

“As yours is mine,” Joe finishes.

Nicky offers Joe his hand and, together, they go back inside.

- - - - -

NEXT TIME: It’s NILE’s turn to try to find some sense in this chaos!

|| Read on Patreon | Read on Ao3 ||

#the old guard #Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolo di Genova #nicky x joe #yusuf x nicolo #nicolo di genova #Booker #sebastian le livre #Andromache of Scythia #james copley #nile freeman

3 notes · View notes

kat-hawke · 4 years

Text

Sk’uhn'agh shuul

(Immediately following [Uull lwhuk h'iwn], in conjunction with Alyssa’s perspective: [One Door Closes, Nothing Opens])

Gloved hands caught her landing as the pained scream scratched along her throat in it’s forced volume. The polyphonous cacophony of whispers quickening and booming, each syllable like an icy rake across the mind accompanied by the burning sensation spanning shoulder to shoulder. The maddening voices growing so loud they drowned out her own screens, dizzying her own thoughts.

Sitting back on the legs, hands gripped either side of the skull, squeezing as the scream continued to pour from her lungs. At her core it felt as if she was being pulled apart, split in half by the sinister force that continued it’s assault.

‘Iilth ma paf'qi'ag sk'halahs.’

Each word repeated in rounds for what felt like an eternity. The glow of the obelisks pulsating with each spoken word, in conjunction the scripture across her shoulders to burn in pain. Protective leather bracers continued to splinter and crack with the same sinister red hue, the dark entity exploiting the chink in the magical armor.

After an excruciating minute everything seemed to stop, a deafening silence leaving only the pounding of her heart in the eardrums. The space around the obsidian platform vanished as eyes peeled open, nothing but a swirling dark abyss all around, as if she was centered in the eye of the storm. The sound of a drawing sword quickly captured her attention, rushing to stand and spin around, only to come face to face with a dark and twisted illusion of herself; eyes deep with void, clad in dark blood stained leathers with an orange eye of the observer situated in the center of the chest.

She had been here before, none of this was real but a death here in her own warring mind would carry over into reality all the same.

Drawing steel herself the weapons collided instantly, strike after strike both seemed to parry in rhythm. Whispers crept along the edges of her thoughts again, red lines mixing in the swirling darkness. It made sense now, what Alyssa had warned about, what the warlock seemed worried about. The corruption clung and rode on her soul, on the protective barrier, awaiting for it’s moment of entry which had thus far been denied by the enchantment on the bracers.

The connection to Alyssa was still muted and dull, present but inaccessible, Kat hoped she was strong enough to keep this invasion at bay. The fleeting thought and worry for the companion she carried on the thigh detectable by the sinister mirror entity she fought upon the obsidian platform.

‘She betrays you, looks to steal the very power you seek. She will shatter those safeguards and usurp your body.’

Hearing her own voice, though deeper and more twisted, speak to her only sparked anger. Several consecutive heavy swings of the sword followed, only one finding it’s mark while the rest were dodged and parried.

“You lie! She would never.” Drawing a knife from the waist Kat caught the incoming swing between her blades, forcing the attack to a halt and throwing the entity to the side. “She’ll see through your false visions.”

‘Her eyes were closed, but now she’s seen the truth, the age that will be rushed across this world as it should be.’ This time the dark image managed to catch the Director’s attack, leaving an opening for a heavy kick, causing Kat to stagger and falter on the spot. ‘The promise of freedom, revenge for what you’ve done to her. Perhaps it is you who should be within that prison.’

Kat’s vision began to blur, she could feel the outskirts of her mind pulling apart like loose threads of a tapestry. The mirror image growing darker, the sinister leathers now seeping with void as the voice deepens further. ‘Now her eyes are open, she accepts the gift we offer.’

She doesn’t dignify the image with a response, refusing to believe it. Grip shifts on either blade as she lunges, legs weak in the push and failing to follow through. Her mirrored self easily swatted the attack away like a bothersome fly.

Pain surges through her core, the bracers splintering further as the magical wards begin to wane. The twisting storm of void turns a deeper red as the corruption spreads, the lighter part of her soul diminishing as the chill of darkness expands. Heaving every breath she stares up at the twisted visage of herself, an image appearing behind the figure; Alyssa standing within her soulscape, chains of fel latched onto the broken barrier of her soul.

For a moment she believed in what she’d been told, that maybe Alyssa had not changed and took the opportunity to be free and switch their places. It was hard to remain hopeful, to continue resisting the promises of the void. The dark image soon staggered to the side, a third contender entering the metaphorical ring, another mirror image representing the light part of her magic. Faded and weak, she had little time.

Letting the two fight for the moment, knowing the darkness would surely win, Kat’s attention turned to the vision of Alyssa, the doorway between them cracked open yet she hesitated to go, to let the woman see her like this before the fall. Still she moved closer, determined to not allow the warlock to suffer and share in this fate, to be condemned to the darkness or worse.

In a second a plan formed, a final hail-Mary with high risk but faith was placed in the warlock’s hands. To sever the soul, let Alyssa carry a piece and later find to restore her soul to full. There were unanswered variables with the woman’s current state but it was this or nothing.

Glancing back to the warring parts of her soul she knew it was only seconds she had to say goodbye, to say the one thing she’d refused to. Without hesitation she stepped through the doorway, a brief moment of relief to find Alyssa uncorrupted by the madness.

“Alyssa...” Weakly spoken Kat catches herself on the workbench that seems to be in the center of the warlock’s space, one of her legs giving out in her weakened state. “I’m so sorry.”

"What do you need me to do Kat. I need you to tell me?" Alyssa shouted back in frantic desperation as she bolstered the magically assault. The edges of the soulscape began to blur and fade away, clear enough that the woman was willing to sacrifice herself.

Both hands slammed into the workbench as pain rushed across the Director. “Stop!” She knew Alyssa was attempting to help but she was causing too much pain, nails biting into the wooden surface that supported her as she lurched in pain before collapsing against the workbench. She slid to the ground below, looking up to Alyssa with a tear stained gaze. "It's too late, Alyssa." Another grimace and wince of pain, a lower guttural scream as her body stiffened for a moment.

"It’s not! It's not too late damnit. If you die I'm stuck in here. That's not going to happen!" Continuing to pump magic into Kat’s soul Alyssa shouts. "You're just another illusion trying to stop me!”

Time was running out and she couldn’t fault Alyssa for thinking none of this was real. “I’m not!” Kat pleaded, weak with words mixing in a guttural roar of pain from the continued surge of power. "I wanted to go home, really I did. I tried and I- You were right." Words were broken up by labored breaths as one hand reached upward for Alyssa, weak and shaking as it tried to stay in the air. "I won't let it take you too."

"You...I...I don't know what to do..." Alyssa falters then, looking helpless as she glances between Kat and the growing corruption. "Maybe..."

The warlock turned back towards Kat’s soul, pulling the fel forged chains free only to send the outward again, landing between the cracks in the armor she pulled. Instantly Kat knew what she was trying to do and it sent what panic she could muster through her consciousness. To pull her soul into the dagger would only invite corruption.

"No! You'll just pull it in here with you!" Shouting as she pushed to her feet, staggering as the distance closed and reached out towards Alyssa, grabbing her wrists and pulling her away, so they'd stand face to face. The shock of the warlock’s expression when she realized it was all real, the tears falling soon after.

"This was my mistake, my consequence to bear." Kat pleads a final time, she could feel the darker part of herself winning and knew the final few seconds she had were at hand. Leaning forward her eyes shut and her head pressed against the other.

"What am I supposed to do Kat!" Alyssa steps in pulling hands free so she can wrap them around her lover. "Y'did all this talk about 'ow you needed me? Well I need you too, besides, if I let you go 'ere and now then what...I'm just in a dagger in the desert forever? That really any better?"

"Not all of you need to go down with me." It was spoken softly, she hoped Alyssa understood what she meant, the thread of silver the warlock mentioned before.

"I can pull that piece out...I think...if y'need." Alyssa’s gaze shifted over the shoulder, towards the collapsing soul of the Director.

"No such thing as forever, you should know that." The barrier around the soul cracks further, the sound echoing in the soulscape like breaking ice, seconds from giving way under the pressure. She had to say it, now or never. "I love you Alyssa and part of love is letting go."

"I love you too Kat..." Alyssa’s tears flow freely now. "I'm sorry I can't do more...I won't forget you."

"You did all you could. It's my turn now."

Alyssa leaned in to briefly touch lips in a fleet kiss, wanting to linger but turning away to focus her magic on the silver thread running through Kat's soul, choking out the words in demonic needed for the ritual as her deft magic begins to twist the silver strip out.

Watching as Alyssa turned away to focus on her magic Kat left with a single whisper before vanishing back into her own twisted space. "Find me."

The corruption spread rapidly through Kat’s mind, reflected by the masses of flesh and red hue that overran the obsidian platform. Both hands drew a blade as she interrupted the nearly finished fight between her two halves, stepping in the middle of what would have been the final blow to her light side. Deflecting the attack from the empowered darker image of herself, she spun to kick the lighter mirrored image, sending the weak half of herself through the doorway to Alyssa’s soulscape, silently praying the woman would not fail.

Consciousness was forced back into the physical world, the pain overwhelming and nearly sending the Director unconscious. The bracers at her wrists shattered, the energy of the enchantment exploding, shreds of leather falling to the ground. Fighting through the pain and flood of dark whispers Kat acted on the final part of the plan, to keep Alyssa safe from this fate.

Drawing the dagger from her thigh the other hand slipped into the leather case behind the hip, pulling a rolled piece of parchment from the small collection of provisions. Without hesitation she plunged the blade into the scroll, the single page a scroll of recall to the hearth in her cabin. In a flash the dagger vanished to safety, not a second too soon.

‘Za awtgsshu wgah uulg'ma ywaq zaix.’

Eyes rolled back as ungodly levels of pain stretched across the body head to toe, a final moment of regret and fear as whispers turned to coherent thoughts, the mind melting away. The obsidian platform beneath her feet had washed over in liquid void, the vast puddle like doorway to darkness dragging her under. Everything went dark and silent, like a soul lost beneath the black tides, not even the sound of her own heartbeat rang in her ears as the void twisted her body and mind.

[ @alyssa-ward ]

(Chapter I: Dark Secrets) (Chapter II: Descent) ( [pt.I] [pt.II] [pt.III] [pt.IV] [pt.V] [pt.VI] )

#ic #plotlines #Ascension #pt.VII

23 notes · View notes

noncanon-mcd-stories · 5 years

Text

River Reaper Chapter 1

@ohbeetles asked for a garmau fic with requited love and, uh, yeah, looks like there’s a new AU on this blog. Introducing Flowerfell AU, and if you know what Flowerfell is, then you know what a rollercoaster of a ride this fic is gonna be. If you don’t, well, you’re about to find out. :)

Alternatively: This fic is inspired by Shy Siesta’s cover of Secret Garden

(Next time you might wanna specify if you want fluff or angst)

tw for character death

Ru'aun had a mountain, cursed for generations. They say those who climbed it never returned. A thousand years ago, The Matron Irene had climbed it and since then, magic has laid heavily upon the soil, making the trees bloom eternally.

Every year, someone was chosen to be casted into the mountain, and every year, the magic around the area grew, though not even the best Spellcasters could understand why.

So when Aphmau woke up with her back hurting her and cheek and arms throbbing, she instantly knew what happened: she was thrown into Mount Ebbot for the magic to consume. With her hands still bound, she forced herself to stand and shuffle into the other room, where… A ghostly child was crying in the corner?

“Are you ok?” She asked, making him jolt and look up at her in panic. “Hey, it’s ok! It’s just me…"

"Another one?” He whispered, sounding tired, horrified and angry. “They just won’t stop will they? The others can barely survive down here as it is!” Blinking at the boy, her heart broke a little and she knelt down in front of him. “You’re… not scared of me?”

“How could I ever be afraid of a cutie like you?” she asked, smiling and tilted her head before holding out a hand. “I’m Aphmau, who are you?”

“I-I’m Malachi… you really are different from the others, aren’t you?” The woman looked at him, hand falling to her side once she realized he wasn’t going to shake it. “Some of the others, they try to attack everyone they see.”

“Some people aren’t very willing to be sacrificed,” she mumbled, head throbbing again. “I’m in Ebbot, right? The rumors about the Magic of the Mountain eating people, that’s false, right?”

The ghost looked hesitant before shrugging. “I’ve been down here for almost a thousand years and I don’t even know where everyone went. All I know is that if the Shadow Knights find you, they’ll take your soul and try to break the barrier with it. They need seven, but only have six, and it has to be a fresh sacrifice.”

————–

She met a kind man, Corey, who was there one second, gone the next when she talked him through a fight he apparently had with his wife. It wasn’t until she had gotten into a fight with Malachi about grabbing a lost knife for protection that Aphmau realized that the boy was afraid and shaking so badly it was a miracle he didn’t phase from the physical plane.

After some prodding, he told her of Zoey, and how one day, there was a potions accident that resurrect him for only a short time. His second death (the first one having been from the fall) had been a major part of the caretaker slipping into insanity, and walking around unarmed was asking for death.

So after a few minutes, she tucked the dull blade into her belt and smiled kindly at the ghost. “I guess it’s a good thing I don’t plan on going anywhere just yet then, huh?”

————–

Zoey was a blonde elf that had been the first sacrifice. The years of solitude, of having to watch the ruins for newcomers, it made her mad. Had she been lucid for even a second, she’d be horrified by how she was treating those who still resided in the ruins for some odd reason.

The two had only met because she and Malachi had gotten separated while she was buying food. When she had turned around, the elf was looking at her with wide eyes, her unfocused gaze on her telling the woman that she was seeing something else.

“Irene...?” the elf whispered, making Aphmau and the few people in the room take a fearful step back.

“N-No,” she stuttered out. “I’m Aphmau.” the elf frowned before letting out a knowing noise.

“The newest sacrifice. You’re very welcome to stay with me.” the elf’s deranged grin had Aph shying back. The elf turned around and walked away, but even after she left their sights, the small market area was still dead silent. Feeling too many eyes on her, Aphmau turned around and ran outside of the room, not watching where she was running and ended up going straight through Malachi-

-death, burning, screams of everyone she ever loved filled the air as blood red eyes smirked down at her, a familiar staff in hand-

“-mau!” Blinking, she shook her head and saw Malachi floating in front of her with a worried look on his face. “Oh, Aphmau, thank the matron you’re alright! I was so worried when you touched me; not many people can snap out of their Nightmare like that.”

“Their nightmare…?” she whispered, voice unable to grow any louder.

“Nightmare, y’know, like your worst fear? I-it’s my magic, the reason why I was given to the mountain. No one could touch me, so they decided I would be the best option…” Something was squeezing her heart painfully, and she felt something resolve in her.

“Then they were idiots, all of them,” she said firmly. “Magic or not, dead or not, you are an amazing kid, and they were blind not to see it.” the boy blushed and turned away, no where near fast enough to hide his tears.

————–

Aphmau stared at the pie in front of her, unsure if she should eat it or not. Around her neck, the pendant Malachi possessed glowed dimly, a thin warmth over her skin, reassuring her that he was still there. Apparently Zoey didn’t like seeing him and forbade him from entering the house, she they had came up with the plan of him possessing the small heart shaped ruby necklace she had found in her pocket.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Zoey asked, having gotten something different to eat, claiming to not feel all that well enough to stomach pie. Aphmau hesitated before taking a small bite, the flavors clashing in such a way it… almost tasted wrong. Forcing herself to swallow, she gave the elf a grimacing smile.

“What’s, ah, in this?” she asked, poking a bit at the food inside.

“Oh, to get everything tasting right, I use a fire res potion!” she said this with a smile, but when Aphmau tried to smile back, the world blurred a little and her ears rang. The pendant grew brighter, flashing urgently. She tried to swallow, but her throat felt as if it was closing and as her head rolled back against the chair, the elf suddenly let out a deranged giggle. “Oh, silly me, I completely forgot! Fire res potions are poisonous to humans, hehe~!”

————–

Aphmau jolted awake with the smell of golden flowers invading her nose. Slowly sitting up, she barely had a chance to realize what happened when Malachi flew in front of her, looking at her in awe… and worry. “What was that…?” she whispered, and the ghost looked at her sadly.

“You’re a magic user.” he answered. “This is bad. The mountain’s magic, it’s barrier, it doesn’t react well to outsiders already having magic.”

Aphmau blinked. “I can’t be the first one to have had this happen.” At the boy’s nod, her stomach twisted into a knot. “What happened to the others?”

“You have a flower, just above your ear,” At the boy’s words, she reached up and felt one of the golden flowers she had landed on mixed in her hair. When she went to pull it out, however, it felt as if someone was tugging at her skin, horror welding up in her a second later. "Do you need help getting it out?"

"No!" She yelled, scrambling back. "Malachi, it-it's attached! To my skull! Is this what happened to the others? Did they just randomly started having flowers grow on them?!"

"N-no," the boys voice shook and her eyes snapped open, horrified even more at his scared expression. "They just got sick. But your magic, with how it rewinds time… I think this is it's way of fighting back."

————–

Aphmau avoided eating the poisoned food Zoey had, instead claiming to have a stomach ache and went to her borrowed room to lay down. She hadn't planned on actually falling asleep, but the warmth that the blankets gave settled a chill she hadn't realized she had and sent her fast into sleep.

She woke up in the bed of flowers and Malachi crying above her.

Another flower had sprouted, slightly bigger and a few inches away from the first one.

————–

She woke up on the flower bed seven more times due to Zoey, six due to the others in the ruins and three times due to her own clumsiness. By round 20, she had accidentally lashed out at one of the inhabitants and watched in an awed horror as they crumbled to dust.

She gained a flower when she purposefully rewound time.

"Why did he crumble to dust?" She asked as her and Malachi wandered down the hall.

"Some of the people here are almost a thousand years old. The mountain's magic makes it to where once you live here, you don't age, but your body gets weaker as if you do. Poor guy was probably one of the first ones down here."

His words did nothing to settle her guilt as she pointedly kept her eyes away from the heckler.

Malachi didn't say anything as she purposefully avoided the mini-market for those next four goes.

————–

Finally, with 28 flowers beside her right ear and cheek, Aphmau found herself in front of a giant red and black door, a familiar rune painted on it.

"Please," she said to the angry elf. "Please let me leave!"

"You don't know anything about what's outside these doors! I refuse to let another person go walking to their death!" She snarled, and there was a surge of magic as fire was summoned into her hands. "If you want to get through, you'll have to kill me!"

No. Aphmau thought instantly, not realizing she had said it aloud until the elf faltered. "No more death." She continued, still in a cold tone that warmed as she spoke again. "No more death. Sometimes, you'll find that kindness is enough."

The elf shook, a sad look in her eyes. "You'll be killed," she whispered.

"Maybe so, but it's happened before," she motioned to the flowers with a rueful grin. "I'm not afraid of dying. Please, let me see what's beyond the doors."

The elf hesitated before her eyes hardened. "No, I cannot allow you to leave. Not with the Shadow Knights roaming freely."

Shadow Knights? Aphmau thought, but was quickly forced to forget it as she yelled and jumped to the side, barely avoiding fire to her face. This continued, the woman barely dodging as the elf, tears slowly starting to stream down her face, continued to throw fireball after fireball.

"Why won't you fight back?!" The blonde sobbed as the woman fell to the ground to avoid another shot to the face, and when she looked up, the elf was on her knees, crying into her hands. "Why don't you fight…?"

"Because," she said, her voice low and hoarse. "I was raised to always be kind and to know when to pick your fights. I will never fight you, Zoey. I think that, perhaps those who are loneliest in the world are the kindest… what happened? What made you so mad?"

"I lost my sons," she whispered. "My children, my little Levin and Malachi. I couldn't save them… but I can save you."

"Loneliness takes a lot out of someone. I know how it feels, thinking there's no one in the world who hears or sees you and your suffering. But there is; there always is. I can't promise you that I will always be safe, but I will do my best. You can't keep me here forever Zoey."

"I suppose the ruins are quite small once you get used to them," the elf half laughed, looking up and slowly wiping the tears off her face. "If you do choose to leave… I have one request."

"Of course," she nodded, ready to hear it.

"Please, never return."

Well wasn't that a punch to the gut? Granted, she didn't know Zoey or the people here that well, the fact that she was even asked it… swallowing, the human slowly nodded. "I-I see… I suppose, then… this is goodbye."

"Farewell, and beware of the king called Zvhal. He will not hesitate to kill you if it means being free from his Shadow Knight bond."

Taking in the blonde's words, they tentatively hugged one another before the human turned towards the doors and slowly stepped out into a bone chilling blizzard.

#Aphmau #Aphmau (MCD)#Zoey (MCD)#Zoey #Malachi (MCD)#Malachi #Flowerfell AU #River Reaper Fic #Levin #Laurance Zvhal #{Levin and Laurance are only mentioned but still}#{Do I risk it and put the Undertale/Flowerfell tags? Yes Yes I do}#Undertale #Flowerfell #{Please note that I'm only tagging those two b/c this is technically an undertale AU where the cast of MCD replaces the cast of Undertale}

18 notes · View notes

caitsbooks · 4 years

Photo

THE QUEEN OF NOTHING (THE FOLK OF THE AIR #3) BY HOLLY BLACK – DID IT SURVIVE THE HYPE? (REVIEW)

This Review Will Contain Spoilers for The Cruel Prince and The Wicked King, but there will be NO SPOILERS for The Queen of Nothing. I’m not cruel.

Overall: 5/5 Stars Characters: 5/5 Setting: 5/5 Writing: 5/5 Plot and Themes: 5/5 Awesomeness Factor: 5/5 Review in a Nutshell: Listen, I’m trash for this series. The Queen of Nothing had a lot to live up to, but it did. It reminded me why this series is so hyped, it proved it deserves every bit of it.

“Let me be feared and never again afraid.”

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

// Content Warning: Violence, Death, Assault, Child Abuse/Neglect, War Themes, Murder //

Release Date: 11/19/2019 Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers Page Count: 309 Premise:

The Wicked King left off with the worst possible cliffhanger ending, with a plot twist I never saw coming. The Queen of Nothing takes place not too long after that ending- Jude has created a life for herself in the mortal world after being exiled, doing odd jobs for other Folk and living with Vivi and Oak. When her sister Taryn returns from Elfhame with shocking news, Jude must delve back into the world of courtly politics and war to help her, even if it means facing the man who betrayed her, the High King Cardan Greenbriar.

“Two paths are before me, but only one leads to victory.”

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

Read more for all of my thoughts on the conclusion to The Folk of the Air series, or, check out the full review over on my blog!!

[ Related: The Wicked King by Holly Black (ARC Review) ]

Follow Me Here: Blog || Goodreads || Bookstagram || Twitter || Reviews

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

“We have lived in our armor for so long, you and I. And now I am not sure if either of us knows how to remove it.”

WRITING & SETTING

Holly Black’s writing style is just amazing. Her writing perfectly balancing poignancy and thought-provoking topics with fun quips and just amazingly relatable moments. Jude is of both the mortal world and the magical world- being a mortal raised in Elfhame- and you can get that feeling just through Holly Black’s writing. It feels both otherworldly and magical while being full of purely human aspects.

Meanwhile, the setting really makes this series stand out. Holly Black truly is the queen of the Fae. She has crafted a beautifully intricate world parallel to ours, with such great depth and detail, and grounded in fascinating mythology and history. While The Queen of Nothing doesn’t expand on the world and magic quite as much as previous books have, it really does place a spotlight on it.

“Magic is seldom so convenient as to conform to our preferences.”

PLOT

I won’t lie- some of this book feels a little rushed. That’s honestly a complaint I have with the series as a whole. Each book could be much longer than they are. The Queen of Nothing comes in at just barely over 300 pages, and it has a lot to wrap up. That said, it does succeed. While I did wish we could have a little more time to sit with some moments, the fast pace did make this book very bingeable and absolutely impossible to put down.

This book also has a few twists thrown in, but they definitely weren’t quite as surprising as the twists in previous books. There was maybe one that really took me by surprise, but the rest were fairly predictable if you are highly invested with this series and as obsessed as I am. That said, this book is still a great conclusion. It ties up loose ends really well, but it definitely wasn’t as… surprising as I expected. I don’t know how else to say it without spoilers. It just didn’t end in a way I thought the series would end.

“If you’re looking for reasons why he disappointed you, by all accounts, Prince Cardan was a disappointment from the beginning.”

mood.

CHARACTERS

The characters are where The Folk of the Air series really does shine. Every aspect of this series is fantastic, don’t get me wrong, but it’s the characters that add the heart and brutality to the series. Jude is such a strong and interesting protagonist. This book puts her through a lot, and we see sides of her that were hinted at in previous books fully explored. I reread the first two books in preparation for this one and damn, her growth is astonishing. Also, Cardan. I love Cardan so much. He’s a drunk idiot sometimes, but other times, he is just plain incredible. We definitely see that incredible side of him a lot in this book. It’s truly amazing for a character to be so understood by the reader while also still being able to surprise them.

However, I don’t want to go too much into Cardan right now because, well, spoilers. Let’s talk about some of our other characters- Vivi and Heather are my loves and I would love an entire book just about them. Taryn didn’t really leave that much of an impression on me in this book beyond the first fifty pages, but she definitely made a mark in those pages. And finally, Madoc. Madoc is such a captivating character- I always think I have him pinned down but then he does something to completely change my perspective of him. This book continues to reveal sides of him I both expected yet didn’t and I absolutely loved it.

“I know how to drive a knife through my own hand. I know how to hate and be hated. And I know how to win the day, provided I am willing to sacrifice everything good in me for it.”

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

[ Related: The Cruel Prince by Holly Black (ARC Review) ]

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

CONCLUSION

Pros- Great characters, solid conclusion, I love this world Cons- A little rushed. I’m also just bitter that this series is over. What am I supposed to obsess over now??? Overall- 5/5 stars. This book series will forever have a hold on my heart, and The Queen of Nothing reminded me of every reason why. This book is a fantastic conclusion to a series I’ll love for the rest of my life.

“Let me have everything I ever wanted, everything I ever dreamed, and eternal misery along with it. Let me live on with an ice shard through my” heart.

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

IF YOU LIKED THE QUEEN OF NOTHING, I’D RECOMMEND:

An Enchantment of Ravens by Margaret Rogerson – (Review)

Wicked Saints (Something Dark and Holy #1) by Emily A. Duncan – (Review)

The Caged Queen (Iskari #2) by Kristen Ciccarelli – (Review + Giveaway)

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

Have you read The Queen of Nothing yet? What did you think?

Also, what are your thoughts on the cover? After reading, I get all the symbolism, but I’m still not really a fan of it (especially the Barnes and Noble edition- oh god please don’t make me look at it).

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

Add To Your Goodreads Shelf Purchase From: Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Indiebound

Looking for more reviews & other bookish nonsense? Follow Me Here: Blog || Goodreads || Bookstagram || Twitter || Reviews

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

BONUS! MORE QUOTES THAT I LOVE

“‘Mortals are fragile,’ I say. ‘Not you,’ he says in a way that sounds a little like a lament. ‘You never break.’”

“By you, I am forever undone.”

“It really is a magical word: no. You say whatever bullshit you want and I just say no.”

“I think of his riddle. How do people like us take off our armor? One piece at a time.”

“My sweet nemesis, how glad I am that you returned.”

“That boy is your weakness.”

“All power is cursed. The most terrible among us will do anything to get it, and those who’d wield power best don’t want it thrust upon them. But that doesn’t mean they can avoid their responsibilities forever.”

“There is no banquet too abundant for a starving man.”

“Imagine if, in the mortal world, a lawyer passed the bar by killing another lawyer.”

“‘I tried to kill you,’ she reminds me. ‘You’ve described pretty much every important relationship in my life.’”

10 notes · View notes

teddystrap · 4 years

Text

Drama CD: [黒吉原メランコリア] The First Night: Agumo Hibari - Part 2

[Disc 2]

[Prologue] A sober Hibari apologises for his drunken behaviour and waxes poetic about the sweetness of your lips. Since that night, you have exceeded his expectations and made a name for yourself in Yoshiwara - mastering all the basic skills from tea ceremony to literacy..

He regrets his own myopia in using you as a chesspiece in his game. As the #1 male oiran, he thought that he could resist the charms of any girl. But the human heart is unpredictable, and he has developed real feelings for you...

⋆

Hibari visits your room and informs you to get ready to make your debut. You're all like (ಠ_ಠ) ,... but before that, he has an important announcement to make:

Once you take your first client, the Game would officially begin. He confesses the whole setup and rules of the game to you, as well as the rumours that led to its conception.

Legend has it that a race of mermaids with the blood of the Happyaku-bikuni [link] possess superhuman life force, and their tears can bring eternal life and prevent death. However, the mermaid saviour has to pay the price of losing her voice forever. (Now where have I heard this idea before⁇ *cough*TheLittleMermaid*cough*)

During the Normanton Incident [link], a merchant vessel capsized near Kishuu-oki (present-day Wakayama). All the foreign passengers were saved but the Japanese passengers perished. This was chalked up to racial discrimination, but insiders claim that the ship was overturned by mermaids plotting to rescue *one of their own* who was aboard the ship.

After you floated ashore to the fishing village where you grew up, rumours spread among the locals that *you* are the passenger mermaid who caused the shipwreck. Out of fear of further angering the mermaids, they avoided publicly discussing the subject.

A local fisherman, your step-father, noticed that you are a good-looking child. He took you in and raised you, planning to sell you off to some brothel once you reach a suitable age and fetch a good price. This is where Hibari comes in: he found your step-father after much investigation and sent a pimp his way to acquire you.

Hibari planned and joined in his own game for the purpose of raising Yoshiwara's profile in the public eye and bringing in more business. His efforts have attracted five other participants from wealthy and powerful backgrounds. Hence, he himself has no interest in the veracity of the legend nor in eternal life. His only aim is for the other players to fight over you and create a tabloid-worthy sensation.

As such, your best bet now is to end the game a.s.a.p. and find one of the participants (excluding him) to marry yourself off to - in this sense both of you have a common goal, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to help you.

...After hearing all this, you are visibly shaken and can't even concentrate on your flower arranging lesson anymore. Hibari is all like 'SON I AM DISAPPOINT' and sends you off to bed. He's all confused because he thought you would be happy to be leaving Yoshiwara soon...?

Next day, he gives you a pretty dress and sends you to some steak restaurant to learn how to use a knife and fork... with Sakurai Takahiro('s character). Meanwhile he stays behind to see a client. Having to part with him for a day makes you a #sadpanda, so he decides to come and cheer you up when you get back.

You come home late, and he feigns cheerfulness when he hears that you got along well with Ta-kun. 'Everything is going according to plan... but why does it make me angry when I imagine her smiling at some other dude?' *punches wall RAWR*

The time has finally come, he announces that you will receive your first client: Sakurai Takahiro('s character). BUT... his announcement gets hijacked by a gang invasion - it's the shady characters from an earlier episode, here for the mermaid tears. Hibari beckons you to run and tell the guards, while he stays behind and buys time for your escape.

He trash-talks the bad guys, and they slash him with their katana and flee. (I imagine their thought process was something like: 'OMG does this guy EVER shut up??? *stab stab*) As he lay dying, he mocks himself: for giving up his own life to save you, yet not being able to confess his feelings to you directly. 'And so it is. My mad skillz are useless when faced with the woman I truly love.'

Later, you come back and tell him that the gang have been captured by the guards. With his last breath, he confesses that he's always loved you. He's glad to have protected you and confident that you will do just fine on your own. With trembling lips, you grant him one final kiss... and your tears touch his mouth. In that instant, he became... THE HULK!!!!

...No srsly. After a month-long sleep, he wakes from a dream where his body is getting dissolved by the waves of the ocean. To his great shock, you've lost the ability to speak. He becomes emotional and laments why you made such a huge sacrifice and chose a scumbag like him, instead of the other more eligible game participants.

He confesses his love for you and says that he can't imagine continuing his job as oiran and embracing other women ever again. He proposes that the two of you to escape from Yoshiwara and start a new life somewhere far away. Of course, you agree, and he makes a pinky promise to spend the rest of his life making you happy.

(He also takes your virginity,... but never mind about that XD.)

And thus, with his life savings as Top Host, the two of you begin a semi-nomadic life, skipping town every time rumours/scandals of the Yoshiwara escape start to spread. At the end, Hibari says that the day you saved his life was a rebirth for him. 'While I may not have a hometown, I will always have a home - which is wherever you are.'

‘Mermaid’ by Toriumi. Hot dayum.

[Thoughts] Let’s be real here, Hibari is kind of a dick. I mean, I would’ve accepted if he had believed the legend and sought Nanami out in order to obtain eternal life. That would have been a more excusable reason than ‘creating a scandal to attract business’. He almost forfeited Nanami’s future and *whole life* purely for his little publicity stunt. In that sense it’s not too much to ask that he almost sacrificed his life for her.

That said, the scene where he was dying and asking for a last kiss really got me. Toriumi sounded like he was really dying XDDD. (Noooo Sensei pls don’t die T_T) His emotional outburst after waking up and finding out that Nanami has lost her voice is also really touching and almost made me forget that IT’S ALL HIS FAULT.

On another note, I took the time to research a bit into the historical accuracy of the story, because (1) Nanami seemed a bit old to be a trainee, and (2) she was allowed to stay in Yoshiwara for many months without receiving any clients or making any money. Fwiw, trainees had a wide age range, although after the Edo period they were generally expected to serve clients during their training period. So... thanks Rejet for protecting your chastity, I guess?

Although there’s still the question of convention - a male oiran taking on a female shinzou - and the way Hibari talks: referring to himself as 「俺」 and using informal speech (あんなもんじゃねぇ, etc.), which does not seem to match the high-class etiquette and prestige of the oiran.

(To be fair, ‘high-class’ isn’t exactly a concept that I would associate with Toriumi’s characters - they usually give off the impression of being dignified cool on the surface and perverted wild at heart, kind of a 「裏腐設定」 if you will XDD.)

All things considered, this is still one of if not the best story I’ve come across of recent note. I will definitely be looking into the other discs of this series - esp. Guy #4 voiced by Shimono Hiro, the (psycho?) dollmaker who wants to make a lifelike replica of the heroine.

*fingers crossed* Please let him be yandere, pleaseee let him be yandere...

#rejet #otome #drama cd #kuromela #kuro yoshiwara #melancholia #seiyuu #toriumi kousuke #supernatural #ningyo #meiji #wafuu #historical

13 notes · View notes

mimik-u · 5 years

Text

Diamond Fall

Summary: In the battle against White Diamond, Yellow is possessed.

A/N: This is messy as all get out, but honestly, I just wanted to write some angst before "BOHAM" came out, lolol. Hope you enjoy!

AO3

They are monsters—oh, it’s true—but not like this.

Pink Diamond is splayed beneath them, still and pale in his Pearl’s arms. She pulls her long fingers over his cheeks, his curly hair, his gem, but he doesn’t so much as stir. A faint red line drips down his right eye.

The fusion yells at them.

They deserve it.

They’re monsters.

Dictators.

Rulers.

Tyrants.

Villains.

They are, they are, they are—the war machine tells them as much in so many words—but not like this, she wants to say, wants to scream, wants to cry.

Not for Pink.

Blue Diamond tilts her head slowly to the left, cerulean eyes clashing against gold, and Yellow’s sharp chin descends into a brutal nod—militaristic and ready.

“Lecture us later,” she tells the Garnet, nose upturned in both apparent and felt haughtiness (if haughtiness is a clever disguise for shame).

“Or don’t,” Yellow adds gruffly.

“It’ll take White a few moments longer to disconnect completely from Homeworld’s mainframe, so until then—”

“Run, hide, take shelter—get Pink off this damn planet.”

The other Diamond’s gloved hand is clenched into a fist only inches away from her own. Blue desperately wants to breach the space between them. Wants to temple their fingers and whisper final secrets into her willing ear. I’ve adored you. I’ve needed you. I’ve loved you. Wants to walk Homeworld’s long hallways with her as their tall shadows lengthen in the dusk. Wants another moment, another second of this eternity they’ve stolen together by believing in their own invincibility.

But that was just another lie, and this is the truth.

There is no more time.

There is only facing White and losing.

Blue Diamond’s hand remains by her side.

“We won’t be able to hold her for long,” she admits, “so make the most of what we can give you.”

Her gaze is on the boy, the gem, the Diamond, extinguished in the Pearl’s arms.

Beyond his eye, the star on his shirt has been torn through, too.

And so here are some more wants, clawing up inside her like a storm: she desperately wants to kiss Pink’s forehead one last time, wants to tell him so many things, while wishing he would forget others—wants to say sorry most of all—but at the slightest shift of her heavy robes, the little band of Crystal Gems stiffen into defensive positions. The Pearl’s defiant chin flick is her weapon in place of a spear.

“How do we know this isn’t a trick?” The Amethyst demands, her dark eyes narrowed into slits.

“Yeah, clods!” That truly mouthy Peridot chimes in. “Prove that you’re not gonna, like, like, backstab us while we’re trying to make a run for it!”

“Insolent—“ Yellow starts, but Blue raises a firm hand, silencing the deluge before it can even begin.

“Believe us, don’t believe us—on your gems be it,” she says coldly, “but know this, Crystal Gems. We love Pink more than we fear White.”

A beat.

A pulse.

Pink continues not to be awake.

“Then prove it,” the fusion snarls.

And so they do.

ii.

They prove it by hurling electricity and energy and everything else in their arsenal at this bastardization of the Diamond they once loved. White Diamond used to stretch out in the pools with them, her long neck craned backwards in a high, lilting laugh. She played Pink’s games, and she called Blue Moonlight without sneering it. She looked over Yellow’s reports on mining efficiencies, and they would strategize new methods of production together. She told them they were special.

She meant it back then.

And she didn’t—she absolutely did not—sacrifice her sanity to a dying Homeworld.

She was White Diamond, and she led it.

“Aren’t you two a little old for these foolish games?” The Diamond laughs as their attacks glance off of her as harmlessly as pebbles. She saunters forward on her impeccable heels in the very way a predator might play with its meal, one foot over the other, her translucent cape swaying behind her like an eager tail. Behind the pitiful wall Blue and Yellow form together with their bodies, stand White and Pink’s ships, gleaming in the reddish light of Homeworld. “Stand aside now, and perhaps I’ll be lenient with you later.”

The word lenient rolls across her elegant tongue before landing with the hard t.

Blue flinches, and Yellow growls, “Like you even know what that word means anymore! Look at you, White! You’re, you’re—”

White Diamond swoops down upon the half-sentence like a vulture, her teeth razor sharp. “I’m what now, Sunlight?”

Sunlight rolls and lands, too.

Venomously.

It is both a threat and a promise.

It is a taste of what’s yet to come for the disobedient Diamonds.

Yellow Diamond, for once in her eternal life, does not say a word.

“That’s what I thought,” White hums, a sickly smile spreading across her black lips like a scourge. Close enough now, she extends a clawed hand—slowly, as though she has all the time in the world—and places it under Yellow’s imperiously lifted chin. “Oh, you know, you’ve always been my favorite, Sunlight. So utilitarian and obedient. I draw the lines in our black sands, and you toe them oh-so-carefully like a good little general.” She throws an amused glance Blue’s way. “Moonlight, I adore you, too, of course… but you’ve been, ah, rather useless for the last six thousand years. And Starlight—dear me, Starlight…”

She drags her coal black eyes into the very direction that Blue and Yellow had deposited Pink and the Crystal Gems.

Of course she knows.

Of course.

The goddess shakes her magnificent head.

“I’m going to ensure that Starlight doesn’t see the sun for another six-thousand years more.”

Blue Diamond screams, and Yellow Diamond lunges—a great golden mass of brutality and anger and fear and bravery. Her eyes are electric with rage; lightning crackles across the sharp planes of her face.

(They are monsters—yes, Garnet, it’s true—but not like this. Not for Pink.)

She reaches for her creator’s gem.

She’s almost there...

... yes!

Fingers outstretched and closing upon the shining facets of White Diamond.

But in an instant faster than seems possible, White’s arm shoots upwards, and in another incomprehensible second more, she has apprehended her Sunlight, has her dangling in her claws.

She grabs Yellow’s long neck with one hand—eliciting an awful choking sound—and curls her fingers around the Diamond’s temples with the other. White energy begins to flood all the way down from her head to the train of her gown.

“Oh, Sunlight,” she says sadly, “I wish you wouldn’t have done that.”

iii.

“I didn’t want a puppet,” White Diamond murmurs so softly that it almost sounds like a dream, “but, dear me, Moonlight, I couldn’t have her charging at me like that, could I?”

Yellow Diamond screams as White pours herself into her, but Blue cannot hear a sound, because there is white light spewing from her mouth where noise should be, and her beautiful golden irises been erased, have been replaced with white, too. White, white, white—that’s all there is—and Blue is on her knees, scrabbling as close as she can to Yellow without looking at her face directly.

She grabs her hand, like she should have done before—before, when it was not too late, before, when the world around them wasn’t crumbling to dust.

But Yellow does not squeeze back.

Her fingers are in tangles of agony.

She screams and screams and screams some more; Blue is almost relieved that she can’t hear.

“Cease this madness, White!” She gasps. It’s all she can do. “Please. Go back to your altar! Release Yellow! It’s pointless to do this to her! Pink’s already gone!”

White’s own irises are eradicated, too, but she sneers at Blue anyway, her black lips parting to reveal threateningly perfect teeth.

“Go back?!” she laughs. “Go back! Are you a broken record, dear? Is that all you want to these days—to go back? I mean, it’s a commendable goal, but, Moonlight, there is no unpressing the button now! There’s no unringing the bell! Starlight left us, and now she has returned, and you have attacked me, and now I’m about to direct Sunlight to attack you! Oh, the circle of life! Isn’t it lovely?”

Grasping for coherent words feels like gasping for air.

She comes up with nothing.

She’s suffocating.

Yellow Diamond wrenches her fist away from Blue’s hand violently, clenching it closer to her side.

“We’re your Diamonds, White!”

“You disobeyed me,” she snarls immediately, her facade breaking and then reforming just as quickly as it had shattered. The ugly lines in her face rearrange themselves back into that even uglier smile. “And so I will not forgive you.”

The light in White Diamond’s eyes suddenly fades, leaving nothing behind but blackness.

She plucks her fingers from Yellow’s temples, one by one by one, and smiles some more.

“Sunlight, do be a dear and make sure Blue Diamond is distracted for me.”

Yellow’s sharp chin tilts downwards to where Blue is still on the ground, her lank hair falling in curtains around her face.

Once upon a time, she would have helped her up.

Would have sang to her.

Would have gotten a Pearl to sing to them both.

Once upon a time, cerulean eyes would have met gold, and all of the hard feelings between them would have melted like rivers.

Yellow Diamond’s eyes are white and glowing.

A snarl cuts through her face, transforming all of the harsh lines in them into open wounds.

“Yellow…”

But the Diamond is unseeing and unhearing.

A bastardization like the bastardization who made her.

A toy.

A killing machine.

White Diamond snakes between them, her long cape brushing Blue Diamond’s cheek like a kiss.

Or a sting.

Or a knife.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go capture a star.”

iv.

“When we were younger Diamonds, we used to fight over who would get to colonize a planet first,” Blue Diamond whispers, slowly moving backwards, her bare feet brushing against rubble and debris, metal and dust. “You used to call me a clod for getting to White before you did, and I’d tell you that your language was uncouth enough to belong to a mere Quartz.”

Yellow Diamond advances as Blue retreats, boot over heavy boot, sure and steady, a miraculous combination of shiny limbs and angular lines to behold.

But her eyes are not golden.

Stars, they’re not even close.

“And when we turned three-thousand, you took me to Andromeda, where we watched a star explode some millions of lightyears away. That was the first time you took my hand, Yellow.” She slipped her glove off, and she gently captured Blue’s hand, and in that moment, that carved out fraction of eternity, they discovered that their hands were precisely the same size. They built a temple between their fingers as the supernova bruised the sunset blue; they laid their palms upon the gently swaying grass and thought they would never die. “You said it was entirely possible that we were built for each other—that we were equals, partners, goddesses, and queens.”

Blue’s foot clips a jagged piece of exploded floor, and she collapses backwards onto the landing platform before she can find purchase. Shards and fragments knife into her skin, her spine, her elbows, her hair.

Yellow Diamond stops in front of her, her boots scuffing hard against the stone.

Her face is disinterested.

The real Yellow could never be so detached.

Her plump lips are set into a cold, hard line.

“And then Pink came to us! Pink!” Blue exclaims, hysteria climbing up the rungs of her throat as the Diamond slowly bends down, her fingers twisting tightly into the heavy fabric covering Blue’s chest. “She used to perch on your shoulder like a little bird and hum songs into your ear, and because of this, you were always the best at guessing the hymns she sang underwater. How you laughed. How she did!”

Blue feels herself slowly being excavated from the ground, drawn up into the air with an iron fist.

“You prefer sunny planets to rainy ones because the light reflects handsomely on your armor.”

Shards fall like rain from Blue Diamond’s ascending body, and Yellow's pupiless gaze smolders like the sun.

“Every time I called for you, and even the times I didn’t—which was more often because I’m quite stubborn—you were there for me anyway. You found me at altars, at the zoo, on Earth, and in her chambers. You tried so hard to be cruel, but your tiny kindnesses leaked out anyway.”

They’re at eye level again; Blue’s feet find tentative purchase against the platform, her toes dancing against rubble, but Yellow, possessed and self-possessed, doesn’t let go of her robes, her white stare boring into her emptily.

Every harsh line in her face says nothing of the memories that bequeathed them to her.

“I hated you for trying so hard to save me.”

Her free hand begins to glow with electricity, lightning sparking off her fingertips.

“I loathed that you believed I was worth saving.”

And that electric hand curls into a fist, and that same fist rears back at a deadly angle.

The trajectory is Blue Diamond’s chest, is the diamond pulsating at her very center.

If it the blow lands, Blue will become nothing, a stone clattering to the dusty ground.

“But stars, you loved me,” she murmurs, reaching out and touching Yellow’s cold cheek. The Diamond flinches—Blue's not sure if it's against her will or White's. She doesn't move her hand. Her thumb brushes against the single tear dripping from a glowing eye. It spills over her cerulean skin and down the slender lines of her wrist. It snakes around her arm like a bracelet. “You kept trying anyway.”

“Do it, Sunlight.” White Diamond’s command issues from behind Yellow’s teeth.

It’s blasphemy.

“I love you, Yellow.”

It's the truth.

As Yellow Diamond’s hand hurtles through the air, Blue pools energy into her palm, the tips of her fingers glowing hot.

The world explodes around them in a burst of white light.

They are binary stars falling—orbiting one another and crashing all at the same time.

The drop from the platform to the abyss below is approximately 300 feet, and the landing in store from them is full of jagged rocks and broken injectors, shards and debris.

But they’re Diamonds.

Invincible.

Immortal.

They won’t shatter…

… but they won’t survive either.

Not that the difference matters to Blue Diamond in the brief eternity between the flight and the fall.

Death is just a word, but Yellow Diamond, suspended above her, is so achingly real that it hurts to even look at her. There are scratches on her impeccable armor and wind fingers in her hair, dividing every perfectly stiff strand of her pointy coiffure. And her eyes—her eyes are golden again, widened in fear and anger and shock and grief. They search wildly for understanding, something to cling to, something solid to rationalize, and eventually, as they always do, land on:

“Blue!”

“Yellow!” She laughs hysterically as the wind whips her hair all around her. She is a maelstrom of emotion. Silver strands fly into her mouth.

“What the hell are you laughing about?” The other Diamond shouts, extending her arms outwards. Her hands find Blue’s waist, and with panicked deftness, draws them together.

They fit like puzzle pieces.

Even their diamonds are touching, binary stars defying gravity to collide.

“Nothing,” she laughs again, the sound long and feral. Yellow stares at her incredulously as the light of Homeworld’s stars falls further and further away. “Or, I suppose, everything. Those two items tend to be one in the same.”

“We’re going to die," she says, so matter-of-factly, all disbelief in the face of Blue’s absurd amusement. Her hands have found the small of her back, and they’re solid there, foundations to lean upon.

Blue's laughter dies away, suddenly snatched up by the wind.

They're falling fast.

It feels like they've been falling all of their lives.

“But we’ll come back,” she murmurs, gently pressing her chin into the crook between Yellow’s neck and shoulder, “and then we’ll save Pink, and then…”

“And then?”

Yellow Diamond’s armor stiffens on top of her.

The ground must be close.

Death is just a word, but Blue closes her hooded eyes against it anyway.

“And then… we wait and see.”

#bellow diamond #blue diamond #yellow diamond #white diamond #s: steven universe #mimik-u #hskjafhaks #angst angst angst angst angst

96 notes · View notes