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magireco · 3 years

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out of curiosity what do you think of the characterization of homura in rebellion? i hugely dislike it but get the impression you enjoy it which i think is interesting cuz we seem to have very similar thoughts on homura pre-rebellion (CORRECT ME IF I AM WRONG)

THIS IS INTERESTING BECAUSE IT DEPENDS ON WHAT FLAVOR OF REBELLION HOMURA YOU MEAN. i really really like the way she was done in the first half of the movie but as for the twist at the end...? mmm...

...okay, so... i've been thinking about saying this at some point but i keep avoiding it in fear of causing discourse and such bc... this is a really unpopular opinion apparently, but I really do not think devil homura was done properly. read under the cut if you wanna know why i feel this way!

the first issue i'm going to address is that there wasn't NEARLY enough buildup for it. i'm going to explain this from the perspective of a first-time viewer: what would you have thought would happen after the very last scene of rebellion leading up to them breaking homura out of her soul gem? when homulilly got purified and the flowers on her head turned to sakura flowers (y'know, the flowers that symbolize life and rebirth, homura being reborn from her witch)? did you think homura was suddenly gonna undermine madoka's godliness? because, uh, first-view me did not think that at all. and neither did almost anyone i know who watched it for the first time. not only is that poor setup but it's just so sudden and it feels so out of character compared to what we'd seen in the entire series as a whole, especially considering that the entire last part of the movie leading up until that was about purifying her... and saving her... there wasn't enough buildup. most people are like "but the flower scene happened!" but that's still way too vague...? it's hard to tell what conclusion homura comes to at the end, because we don't get to see any of her internal monologue... there is no other buildup after the flower scene... it just skips to homura realizing she's a witch. wouldn't that bring the viewer to think the flower scene was something that made homura realize she was a witch rather than her suddenly starting to form her plan? it always felt like to me the conclusion homura came to at the end of the flower scene was that she was validating madoka's bravery and telling her that if it ever came to that, she'd have the ability to make that hard decision. which is... so... weird? because i always interpreted that as homura coming to terms with what happened? i could just be interpreting it wrong though, but isn't that supposed to be our proof scene? our buildup scene? why would they make it so hard to understand? we need to know such important buildup points just as blatantly as the natural buildup to homura becoming a witch was. that's just from a moviemaking & writing perspective though.

secondly, i'm gonna discuss homura's motive. i actually ended up understanding were she was coming from after a while of being like "what the hell that makes zero sense!!!!". madoka is a 14-year-old girl who, in order to save the fate of every magical girl, literally had to sacrifice herself and erase herself from the world, and in the end, madoka just ended up saving homura again, and that must've made homura feel like her promise with madoka was never fulfilled. it's unfair what happened when you think about it and the law of cycles should not have been run by madoka herself because she, as any other 14 year old, deserves to be happy on earth. although it was said in magireco that madoka felt happy with what she was doing (and she felt like it truly gave her a purpose), she did admit to feeling lonely and homura probably made that assumption big time. but the way the writers went about it just made her seem so sinister... so out-of-character-ly sinister. what with the evil smirking and the deepened, almost... uh, sensual-seeming voice, and homura completely ignoring madoka's fear. it feels like they twisted her character extremely suddenly and it throws the viewer on a loop. they could've gone with that ending without making such drastic and sudden changes to homura's character, and if they were planning on doing that, why did they not give us more buildup? buildup that wasn't extremely cryptic that you have to scan and search every detail to get a clue? something i love about rebellion is that every time you watch you find something new, but how come some of the only clues illuding to devil homura's existence are in the op? it's odd. why didn't they go with something like making the incubators run the law of cycles? they were the ones at fault for causing it to be created. but honestly, the incubators cannot be trusted with anything, which is why it'd make sense for a magical girl to run the law of cycles, but if homura and madoka had the combined power to do so, what if they just remade the law of cycles so it was less unfair to madoka...? i don't know. either of those possibilites would make more sense than what happened.

something else that kind of irks me about it is that they demonized(literally, lol) homura's love for madoka. homura is very much a canon lesbian, and it's incredibly discomforting to me that they made her seem, outwardly to the viewer, so selfish...? please don't get me wrong, i'm not ACTUALLY calling homura selfish -- i know the entire akumura facade is a mask she put on, but like, it's so much more blatantly sinister than she is in the series when she's putting on the coolmura facade. it's going to really confuse the viewer and see every single one of her actions from the entire series in a completely different light, INCLUDING stuff that happened in rebellion itself. like the genuine sadness homura felt, the way we saw into her soul and felt her pain, that genuinely made a lot of people i've seen think that it was ingenuine upon first inspection... they made homura turn "evil" out of her love for madoka, as if it's a bad thing to fall in love, and as if love for another girl was what corrupted her soul gem... i understand that gen urobuchi probably wanted to explore that kind of path where love leads to obsession or whatever, but homura was selfless to a fault, constantly trying to force herself away from the others in order to not get attached, and deeply afraid of seeming creepy and predatory and scaring(she said this herself), which is exactly what she ends up doing at the end, and i feel so awful that they did that to her... how is the viewer supposed to know what her true motives are at that point? it gets all scrambled up after they did that huge plot twist. i'm going to address another thing super quick before people jump in my ask box over this, i understand also that it would make sense for homura to be obsessed with madoka, but in the series, it was never shown in this light, and like i said, if they were going to do this, why'd they even have the purification scene at the end at all? the buildup is all wrong . it also just made me upset that this ending caused SO many people to start literally believing homura is evil because of her actions at the end, and it made people become even more vehement on their beliefs that homura is obsessive and ps*cho...

i was really confused when i watched it for the first time (and also sobbing hysterically, literally, my funniest rebellion story as someone who has genuinely watched the movie 40-ish times, i remember vividly the first time i watched it i started sobbing on my hands and knees on a yoga mat in my mom's room). also like, just to prove my point a teensy bit more, the ending was so ambiguous and out of nowhere that one of the first google results to "madoka magica rebellion" is "madoka magica rebellion ending explained" because it shocked people so much that that was the first thing they needed to google. also, the fact they left us on such a vague cliffhanger and then abandoned the movie series for a total of 8 whole years only to make a sudden comeback in god's holy year of 2021 was almost cruel. LIKE GUYS I JUST FINISHED UP MY DEVIL HOMURA HEADCANONS IT TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH!!!

...anyways, um, i really have to address the sexualization. madoka magica, previously, was a series that avoided fanservice in the show, at least, but why did they make akumura's design look like that...? it shows an unsettling amount of skin and like, every three seconds in the end they're focusing intensely on her lips and her eyes and... it's almost like the writers forgot she was 14, but they never seemed to forget that in the series? what happened????? in the transformation scene, we get closeup views of homura's thighs and back and stuff and it's all open everywhere... they made her tights into thigh-highs... in the whole series, even when she went to school, she always wore tights, and she was wearing tights in her magical girl outfit too... they absolutely deliberately did that to sexualize her further so they could make official art with her thighs out. speaking of official art that unsettles me, why does so much of the official art make the whole outfit just glued to her body and you can see all the shading on her features... it's just. ugh. anyways.

i went off a LITTLE too much on this and i know this is probably gonna get me some weird glances in the fandom and i am open to hearing other people's opinions but i don't think i'll ever stop disliking the effect this plot twist had on the fandom's interpretation of homura and although i'm like UNDENIABLY incredibly hyper excited for the next movie, i'm kind of...nervous for what this is going to bring? i don't want this next movie to cause the same amount of discourse the ending of rebellion did and i legit just want to see homura happy. another one of my main issues with the ending is just that homura is SO unhappy when she literally deserves to be happy SOOOOOOO BAD and just take a break from all the loops ... i'm Praying to madokami out there that that's what happens.

i know this is all really funny coming from someone who draws devil homura on a regular basis and literally writes her, but like... i'm a lesbian i'm allowed to<3

ANYWAYS thanks for listening this was a fun ask!!!

#asks #neorattz #rambles #analysis #rebellion tag #IM DEADASS AFRAID TO DROP THIS #like... something i was too afraid to mention is that i Have unlisted disorders that are heavily stigmatized #and the reason why they are unlisted is literally bc of that #and i feel like i'm allowed to have a negative stance on this kind of thing because of that #not that someone who doesn't have those things isn't allowed to have these opinions OR opposing opinions but like #i've seen some people choose to cope through devil homura which like.#i get that.#and then i've seen other people use devil homura as an example on why homura is an obsessed psycho girl who only loves madoka #and hates everyone else #which is also partially where my issue stems from.#it's complicated. just like the ending of rebellion!!!!! LOLL

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sometimesiwrite · 3 years

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Steady As She Goes

Part 1

Fandom: The Witcher

Characters: Essi Daven/Lambert

Summary: Lambert begrudgingly insists on escorting Essi through Velen on her way to Novigrad. On their three days' journey, an unexpected bond is formed as the unlikely traveling companions encounter one another in new light. But will they get through unscathed?

Warnings: Lambert-typical language; pragmatic killing of a small animal (not a pet, for food); sexual assault (groping, not Lambert); reference to gore, head trauma; lethal self-defence; shock/trauma response, adrenaline crash; cliffhanger

A/N: A little while ago, I wrote a little letter to Lambert (you can read it here if you’re so inclined—mind the TW). I wanted to thank him, but more importantly, I wanted to offer him a place in my heart and my brain along with his brothers. This story started from a small prompt and has since turned into a 12+k proper-ass Story. This is part 1. Please join me in joyfully welcoming Lambert to the ranks with a wordcount he deserves with a character who has also become very dear to me.

MASTERLIST

@morethangeraskier

Essi eyed the back of her travelling companion with curiosity as they rode North toward Crow’s Perch: the tight swing of his hips still keeping tempo with his horse’s cadence; the sharp alertness at the nape of his neck as his eyes scanned their surroundings; the subtle forward tuck of his shoulders; and every muscle in his body fine-tuned and ready for action in the blink of an eye. Even his silence seemed to radiate a low buzz that tingled the air around him and made Essi wonder how many thoughts and calculations were crammed inside his head at once. She’d found it charming rather than off-putting how irritatedly he’d suggested accompanying her through Velen. There was a genuineness about his prickly outward demeanor—she felt like a detail worthy of practical consideration rather than a damsel on the road and she appreciated it. Better than most alternatives.

The fact was, Lambert had insisted. Not because she was attractive (yeah, yeah, big blue eyes, blonde hair, yadda-yadda, who cares), not because she seemed helpless (there was something keen behind those big blue eyes, and he’d known better than to ignore it), but because it seemed like the right thing to do. She’d explained she was an experienced traveller, knew the roads well, had good relationships with the innkeepers along the way. She would be fine, and didn’t want to take him out of his way.

“Sorry. Not happening. I’m coming with you.” Why? “Bandits.”

He would know. He’d spent the last few days doing nothing but clearing out Nekker nests and trashing bandit camps all over Velen, and the last thing he needed was the innocent blood of some wide-eyed woman-bard on his hands. “Back to fucking Novigrad,” he’d grumbled, turning his horse back North. He sighed heavily and waited for Essi to catch up, “Fuck me, I need a drink—alright, stay close on my tail for the next little while. We’re taking a shortcut.” As they rode, Lambert gave his new companion a rundown of “ The Rules”.

“No chit-chat, I’ve gotta keep focused, plus I don’t like excess noise. If I say ‘duck’ you duck. And I mean get the fuck down and stay silent. If I say run, run and don’t look back. I’ll find you later. Do your best not to panic or freeze up on me, I need you to listen carefully and do exactly as I say.”

Essi nodded earnestly beside him, her big blue eye fixed on his lips, taking in every word. He wasn’t used to actually being listened to. It was nice. A little off-putting the way she stared, but it was... nice.

On that topic, “One last thing,” he said, turning away to watch the road and check their sides, “Don’t get any ideas. I’m only doing this because no one deserves to die at the hands of heartless assholes except other heartless assholes. I am not Prince Charming, I am not a knight in shining armour, and I absolutely have no intentions of sweeping anyone off their feet. Capisce, bard?”

Essi smiled elusively, turning her own eyes back to the road. “Good. I’m no princess or damsel, and I’m hardly looking to be swept off my feet. As far as I’m concerned, we’re merely travelling in the same direction at the same pace.”

An agreeable grunt from Lambert signalled the end of the conversation and the beginning of “quiet time” which Essi did her best to honour. It was difficult at first. The poet was accustomed to conversation with strangers she met on the road—where they were headed, where they were coming from, how their journey had been. But Lambert was a witcher. Her usual litany of questions were either already answered or were none of her business to be asking in the first place. She was more or less quite content to travel in silence on an average day. But this was not an average day and her mind was bursting with curiosity, which made for a restless start to their journey.

“What’s your horse’s name?” Essi finally asked as they stopped briefly at a stream for water. She decided it was an innocent enough question with a short enough answer to risk breaking the rules.

Lambert gave her a disapproving look, a scolding reminder about ‘no chit-chat’ perched on the tip of his tongue. To her credit, she'd surpassed Lambert’s expectations for what he’d learned to expect from bards in the category of Not Talking. She’d only hummed a little and only then when she was lost in thought, large blue eye staring into the distance. She was an odd one, this woman, with her deep eyes that blinked too slowly sometimes. But his medallion was still and he didn’t have that gut feeling that usually told him when something was off. It was a harmless enough question, anyway…

“Royal,” he said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Never met a noble that wasn’t a horse’s ass.”

Essi let out snicker, flashing her pearly teeth with an open grin. He was abrasive, sure, this witcher, but he was quickly proving himself to be animated and clever. She also believed him to be kind, despite his best efforts to prove otherwise. Whether or not Essi would earn a glimpse of his full capacity remained to be seen, but regardless she found his particular brand of panache refreshing.

"Yours?" he asked with a nod back at the small Icelandic gelding currently occupied with nibbling at some honeysuckle.

"Ginger," Essi replied, kneeling to take her turn at the stream, refilling her waterskin and drinking from her cupped hands. She stared at her saddlebag. “Wait here,” she said, striding to her horse and extracting a bundle of fabric.

“Whoa, hey, where’re you going?”

“It’s alright, I’ll only be a minute,” she assured him as she headed for a thicket.

“Nuh-uh, can’t let you just wander off and get yourself killed before we even reach the first signpost. What’s the plan, Goldilocks?”

“I’m just…”

“Just…?” Lambert gestured impatiently.

Essi squared her shoulders to him, “Going to change my dress. It’s too hot, and I would like to feel Just Right.”

Her sharp-witted comeback earned her a raised eyebrow. It was rather warm, the witcher had to admit. Early summer’s heat glared down with the midday sun, tempered only by an occasional cool breeze from the West. Lambert himself had pulled off his gauntlets, opened his jerkin, and tied a damp kerchief around his neck—witchers were less susceptible to heat stroke or hypothermia, but they were no less vulnerable to discomfort. It was only fair to allot his companion the same opportunity.

Lambert did a quick sweep of the area. Looks fine, sounds fine, smells fine… “Fine. Three minutes.”

He stood guard in front of the only gap in the dense bushes and waited for the sounds of rustling fabric to subside. After two and a half minutes, Essi emerged, hitching up her linen sleeves. She returned her former dress to her saddlebag and extracted two slender, ornately-carved whale bone sticks which she used to scoop her long, thick hair off the back of her neck and secure it in a twist.

Essi squatted back down beside the little brook and let the cool water trace over the tender undersides of her wrists, cooling her veins and refreshing her as the breeze fluttered the light fabric against her skin. Much better, she thought, glancing up at Lambert. This new garment was more loosely-fitting, he noticed, save for the cinch that tied around her waist.

She looked nice—comfortable. She looked comfortable. The dress looked comfortable.

Essi smiled up at Lambert as she stood, pressing her damp hands to the sides of her neck and ooooh it felt nice. She thought she caught the smallest hint of a smile as the breeze wafted a bit of honeysuckle their way. He still looked tired, but he seemed lighter. Something new had come into his rugged, sun-tanned face. Boyish, maybe?

“Better?” Lambert asked. He barely waited for her to answer before he continued, “Let’s get moving, I want to make tracks before we lose our light.” Essi mounted without protest and they were on their way again, quietly riding single-file until they reached an acceptable spot to settle down for the night. Lambert left the travelling poet to make camp while he hunted for some dinner. Essi went about setting things up. She dug a small fire pit with a trowel she kept on hand, gathered kindling, and stacked it neatly to the side where it could be easily reached. Finally, she dragged two logs from the underbrush and placed them on either side of the small hole. It was, perhaps, a little domestic, but the witcher still seemed tired, and he was going out of his way to give her a safe escort through dangerous territory. She’d wondered earlier about offering him some coin for his trouble, especially seeing as he was doubling back and wouldn’t have any opportunity for new contracts. Then again, she’d thought, perhaps that might insult him, make him feel like a hired bodyguard. In the end, the very least she could do was help make the experience a little nicer. She could ask about payment when they arrived in Novigrad.

A loud whistle caught Essi’s attention and she turned to find Lambert approaching with what looked like a squirming ball of fur. Upon closer inspection, it was a rather fat grey squirrel. “Dinner,” Lambert announced, looking pleased with himself. He held the creature toward her, “Care to do the honours?” He waggled his eyebrows facetiously. The witcher had always prided himself on his capacity to read people, to pick up on the little things that others might miss, second-guess, or excuse away. So far, after nearly five hours on the road with Essi Daven, Lambert still couldn’t get a clear read on her, and he decided (for whatever reason) the quickest way was to hand her a small animal.

Essi looked down at the wriggling creature cupped in Lambert’s hand, her eyes devoid of any specific expression. The poet could have been feeling anything: shock and horror, stony rage, remorse, awe… casual hesitation. In fact, the only feeling that wasn’t in the running was glee, and while Lambert hadn’t expected it in the first place, it was still a relief to know he wasn’t sharing his camp with a psychopath. But what was she going to do with it, this wide-eyed, innocent-faced, prim young traveler? Probably some tree-hugger shit like let it go.

Essi lowered her eyes to the wriggling rodent. It had been a while since she’d had to procure a live meal. She could have declined, easily, graciously, and her witcher companion would probably have shrugged and thought ‘no surprise there’. But she knew a schoolboy’s smart-assery when she saw it—the audacious victory behind his bright citrine eyes told her everything she needed to know about what he was expecting from this brief-but-loaded exchange. A shriek, a gasp in horror, perhaps a distressed stomp of her feet and fitful shake of her gilded head?

Essi reached a slow, dainty hand towards the squirrel, enveloping the soft, furry body as Lambert mentally prepared himself to go set another snare. There was no way this bard would ever be the type to—

Crunch.

—Lambert’s face went slack as the now-very-limp squirrel was handed back to him.

“I wouldn’t’ve thought a witcher would be so squeamish,” Essi remarked, casually wiping her hands on her skirt. Lambert said nothing but stared at her with a look of defeated befuddlement. She fired again, her sweet, melodic voice dripping with offhanded superiority, “Was that all? Or do you need me to clean it, too?” She blinked blankly once again as Lambert gaped, even less sure what to make of the young woman who had just snapped a rodent’s neck.

“No,” he answered petulantly. “I can do it.” He pulled his buck knife from its sheath on his thigh and went about his business. He was quiet and brief with her for the rest of the evening, and she was beginning to feel her own irritation mount. She had half a mind to bite back the next time he snapped at her for asking a simple question. Though, she admitted, he didn’t seem the type to back down easily. If she prodded at him, he might decide to leave her, and they were on a different route, completely unfamiliar to her. She’d be as good bear food without his directions.

No, she decided, it was best not to go digging and let whatever it was that was eating at him subside on its own. With no assurance of peaceful conversation and nothing but the crackling of their small fire to drown out the distant howls of wolves, Essi asked if she could play quietly on her lute—not too loudly, she promised, remembering what all she knew about a witcher’s senses, how sensitive they are. She’d asked in her usual straightforward way, her big blue eyes blinking slowly at him from across the fire. A simple request, and one that he couldn’t very well deny at the risk of being a Grade A Jackass.

Ordinarily, he would have jumped at the opportunity to claim that title, but Essi didn’t deserve that. Stranger or no, she’d been quiet and courteous, and had shown herself to be witty and good-humoured to boot, laughing at even his crassest jokes. So what could he do but bob his head from side to side and relent, reserving the right to end it if he deemed it necessary. He’d met enough bards in his time to know that his and their definitions of “quietly” were rarely on the same page of the dictionary.

But Essi kept her word, and took up a slow, gentle melody that drifted airily through the fading twilight. The witcher might even have called it pleasant, as the dusky grey shifted to darker and darker shades of nighttime. Lambert took out his whetstone and, after a few strokes along his dulled steel blade, found his mind wandering. The poet’s voice was captivating without demanding attention—sometimes clear and bright, but never piercing or imposing; occasionally breathy, but always expressive. His eye drifted to the instrument in her hands, no longer content to merely hear the music, but wanting to watch its creation. The taut catgut strings pressed divots into thick calluses on her left hand as she fingered the fretboard, her hands flexing no differently than if she were playing at full volume. But how was she strumming so quietly? Shit, gotta keep focused. Stay on task. The whetstone once again returned to steel as Lambert pulled his mind back from its daze.

It wasn’t long before curiosity got the better of him and he glanced back to the instrument cradled against the musician’s midriff. It looked delicate. Like something that could shatter if he held it wrong. Glancing to the hand nearest him, he could now see she was using the soft pad of her thumb to strum rather than her fingernails, which were long and carefully-shaped; well-honed in that sense, Lambert mused. He’d never paid attention to a musician this closely. They always drew crowds in the cities and experience had taught him that performers on the road were just as likely to pick a man’s pocket as they were to put on a show. But this was different. Essi wasn’t performing—on the contrary, she almost seemed to be in some kind of trance. She wasn’t even looking at her hands most of the time, and from the lyrics, Lambert began to wonder whether she was making it up as she went along. It was impressive, the way she knew her instrument so well. Despite his previous feelings of irritation at having had his ass handed to him, he couldn’t deny skill when he saw it, and Essi was clearly a master of her craft.

The whetstone had been silent for close to a full verse when Essi looked up, wondering if perhaps the witcher was growing tired of the noise. She found Lambert closely examining the hone of his blade, and so, thinking nothing of it, went back to her playing. It took him longer than usual to sharpen his swords. Longer still to replenish his potions and oils. He should’ve made quick work of it. Would have, too, if it wasn’t for the fact that he found the music so… pleasant. It was difficult to meditate. Not because he couldn’t relax, but because he didn’t want to stop listening. He just—there was something about… It didn’t matter. It wasn’t important. Get the shit together for tomorrow, go to bed, get up, and hope you don’t have any trouble on the road.

Lambert laid out his bed roll and the music silenced abruptly. “Oh, are you turning in? I’ll stop now,” Essi gently lay down her lute next to her saddle bags and started to get her own sleeping mat. It was thin, Lambert noticed, as he watched her set up. His long, tired body stretched out, hands beneath his head, as he stared up through the dense oak canopy above them.

“Thank you,” Essi said, now standing by his head.

Lambert craned his neck to try and see her properly and resorted to propping up on an elbow. “Yeah? What for?”

“For finding us food and for letting me play a little,” she said with that same matter-of-factness that made Lambert feel both comfortable and uneasy.

“Yeah, well,” Lambert flopped back down on his bedroll, “Don’t worry about it. Get some sleep, we gotta keep moving in the morning. I don’t want to be out here longer than we have to.” He waved a dismissive hand in Essi’s direction, and she took that as her cue to leave him alone and be quiet.

“Goodnight, Lambert,” she murmured softly before turning and crossing back to the other side of the fire. She settled under her blankets and, after some drawn-out negotiations with a few poorly-located lumps in the ground, she was able to lie still and close her eyes. The insides of her eyelids flickered orange with the fire as it danced beside her. Before sleep took her, she heard a muffled voice from across the flames.

“G’night, Essi.” ---- Essi rose early, but not early enough for her travelling companion. The fire had already been doused and buried, and Lambert’s things were all neatly packed away and ready to be loaded onto Royal. Both horses were still hitched, and sleepily nibbling on some dewy crabgrass as the grey mists of early morning lingered. The sun hadn’t risen high enough yet to burn away the moisture, and Essi bundled her blanket around her shoulders against the chill. Lambert, she presumed, was off doing something witcher-y—taking a leak more like, she wagered as her own bladder complained. The moment he returned, Essi shot up from her log and headed into the trees.

“Just where do you think yo—”

“I have to piss!” she called back over her shoulder as she traipsed into the dense wood.

“Heh, good morning to you, too!” Lambert scrubbed his hand through his scruffy brown hair and ambled back to the fireside to begin packing and saddling the horse. When he arrived, he saw Essi’s things were also neatly packed away and stacked by her own mount. He offered a brief nod of approval before stowing his things, making quick work of the well-practiced process. By the time Essi returned, not only was Royal fully-prepared and Lambert armed and armoured, but Ginger was also mostly packed with the exception of one bag and the lute, which was cradled in the witcher’s hands as he crouched near the ground. She paused a little distance away and waited, observing as she listened to the faint sound of strings being delicately plucked.

Lambert looked up, embarrassed. “I uh… sorry.”

“What for?”

Lambert stood carefully as Essi approached and dropped his gaze, holding out the fragile instrument for it to be angrily snatched back. The musician paused for a moment, observing this gesture of cowed humility. It was a habit, she suspected, born from decades of harsh punishment without explanation, frivolous harm without justification. Essi could sense the shame as it rolled off his shoulders, the prickly-heat of defense building under his skin. She took the lute and a swell of sadness washed through at the stark evidence of the world’s cruelty—that a man should be ashamed for a little harmless curiosity only told one story: pleasure’s not for you.

Lambert looked up to find Essi still standing there, staring at the lute in her hands. “Did… did I…?” he pointed to the instrument.

“No,” she smiled softly, “not at all. And I’m not bothered that you looked at it. If you like, you can look at it again. I can even show you a chord or two?”

“Ah,” the witcher scratched the top of his head, “that’s okay. It’s, uh… I mean it seems like it’s good—well-made. Never seen one up-close like that.” There was a lull in conversation as Lambert ran out of things to say. But Essi just stood where she was, smiling her little enigmatic smile and blinking at him. He turned back to the horses, and motioned for Essi to do the same, “I, um, packed up your stuff, well most of it.”

Essi took the hint and followed suit, strapping the few remaining things to Ginger before mounting. After a brief survey of the area to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything, the two were off, Essi following behind as Lambert continued on his shortcut through what mainly seemed to be wilderness for the first several miles. They finally emerged at a small footpath, though, and Essi finally got her bearings. They were back in familiar territory, at least for the time being, and it was proving to be a beautiful morning. Even Lambert seemed to be in a better mood, offering her things to eat along the way, and even starting his own little snippets of conversation.

It was an hour or so after midday that Lambert’s ears pricked at the sound of hooves in the distance. Could be soldiers, could be travellers… could be bandits. After a few minutes, they seemed to fade, and the witcher relaxed a little as the path took them into a wooded area by yet another stream, though this one was deep and flowing quickly. Better keep my ears sharp, Lambert thought as they rode along. Water’s too loud. Can’t hear for shit. They stopped next to the water to stretch their legs and replenish their drinking vessels again. The rest of the journey would take them mostly through high ground without much shade, and swampland. Any water they wanted to have with them, it was now or never until they reached Novigrad the next day.

Lambert relieved himself against a nearby tree while Essi washed her face and, having determined the coast was clear, gave her the go-ahead to have a squat in the underbrush. He was still on the alert. It wasn’t a high-traffic area, so in theory bandits would be less interested in diverting from the main road. On the other hand, a less-trafficked area meant less chance of a hideout being discovered. But it smelled okay, although the wind was coming across the water. And it sounded okay, although the water was so damn loud. And things looked okay, aside from the fact that there was only so far even a witcher could see without trees getting in the way.

A twig snapped in the woods behind him and the hairs on the back of his neck bristled, his hand mechanically finding the grip of his steel sword. He chanced a glance back into the woods—Fuck it, what’s the point of modesty if you’re dead? Another twig, this time from another location beyond the line of trees. There was a flash of golden hair as Essi finished her business and stood up, straightening her skirt. She turned to Lambert, ready to scold him for looking until she saw his hand on his sword. Somewhere in the near-distance, a horse whickered. The witcher lifted his finger to his lips and the poet stood stock-still, her hand slowly reaching for the small dagger at her waist as her heart beat heavily in her chest. Something rustled to Lambert’s left, and he turned, stepping quietly as he stalked in the general direction of the sound. It wasn’t wolves or Endregas, they were too high for Drowners, too woodsy for Nekkers.

Essi watched with interest as the witcher’s body went on full alert, his senses sharpening, his posture shifting, muscles coiling to accommodate any number of reflexes. She scanned the trees in front of them then looked back out to the road, marking the location of her horse in the event Lambert told her to run. A large horse came to a standstill beyond the edge of the woods somewhere and Lambert froze, listening carefully for sounds of footfalls or rustling clothing.The gears started to click a little faster as Lambert entertained the possibility they were being surrounded. He flicked his left hand at Essi in the direction of the road: get out of the woods. Quietly. Without a second thought, she began to carefully make her way back to the road as silently as she could, Lambert following, his eyes still searching.

Just as Essi’s feet met the smooth dirt path, a beefy arm wrapped tightly around her waist. But the brute was foolish enough not to cover her mouth first, and Essi let loose a loud, powerful scream that a witcher would have heard at least a mile away. Lambert abandoned his methodical retreat from the woods and came crashing onto the path, fixing his eye dangerously on his target as he circled his sword around his wrist. The witcher felt a rush of angry heat flare under his skin at the sight of Essi kicking and clawing in the bandit’s sweaty grip. He was large, reeked of booze and the funk of cured meat. Essi fought the urge to gag at the stench of his clothes as she did her best to keep her mind sharp, or else risk becoming collateral damage. Her best bet: keep her eyes on Lambert.

“Hands off the bard and you might keep your head,” the witcher barked as he approached. “Can’t make any promises about your other appendages, though.” He wanted to lunge, run him through, gut him and leave him to the wargs... but it was too risky. He was holding Essi too tightly, and there was no guarantee he wouldn’t snap her neck if Lambert took a wrong step. To make matters worse, the trees were full of footsteps. Eight, maybe ten men. Hmmm.

“Oh-ho-ho, look what we got, lads!” the bandit called to his approaching comrades as they began to filter out from the woods. “Your plaything still any good, witcher? Or have you ruined the fun for the rest of us?” The man grasped roughly at Essi’s breasts and Lambert felt his stomach drop as her eyes met his. He knew the look that was waiting for him behind those eyes, that broken terrified look of “I trusted you.” But the look never came. Those big beautiful blue eyes were steely and determined in spite of the fear he knew was churning in the background and he felt a thrill of triumph. Essi was still with him in whatever this was about to turn into. Not only that, she was thinking something, devising a plan. Lambert hoped to Gods it wasn’t something stupid. What is it, Essi? What are you thinking?

As if in answer to his question, Essi tilted her head, seductively baring her neck to her aggressor as Lambert’s options quickly decreased, the other bandits starting to close in, clearly in no rush, confident that they could easily take one man even if he did have two swords on his back and eyes like a cat. Sure boys, that’s going to go real well for you. He did a quick circle, taking stock of their exact locations before turning back to Essi, watching carefully as her hand traced up the outside of the bandit’s right leg. Yes, Essi, come on, come on, come on…

The man rasped something foul in her ear, but all she could hear was the sound of her ears ringing and her own heart beating out of her chest as she did her best to focus on the task at hand. She barely knew what she was doing, but the witcher was watching her every move intently, and that somehow made whatever she was about to do feel possible. She felt her thumb brush the cool handle of her dagger, and Lambert nodded almost imperceptibly. Do it.

With a swift, fluid movement, she plunged the short blade into the man’s side and he roared in pain as his compatriots mulled around in confusion, their fisstech-addled minds still catching up. Lambert took the opportunity and sliced through the three nearest him with swift, clean strokes, focusing back in on Essi just in time to see her take a right hook to the face. She fell to the ground and blinked heavily, her vision blurry and head spinning. Her fingers found a large rock as a pair of meaty hands grabbed her legs, pulling her across the rough dirt road. She scrambled and turned, bringing the heavy rock squarely to the side of the man’s head with a sickening crack. He fell limply to the ground as the poet found her way to shaky legs, the makeshift weapon falling limply from her hand.

From out of the chaos of grunts and screams and clanging weapons, Essi heard her name, “GET OUT, GO, GO!” It was Lambert. Without a second thought she stumbled the short distance to Ginger and mounted, bolting across the river and holding on for dear life. She rode until the horse slowed, until she wasn’t sure where she was or whether the river she’d stopped beside was the same river or a different one. Essi dismounted and only then noticed that her hands were shaking. Interesting, she thought, as she was overcome with trembling and heaving sobs. I suppose this is what they mean when they say ‘fear catches us later’. She sat on a boulder and listened to the clear water, waiting for Lambert to find her.

#Essi Daven/Lambert #Lambert/Essi #rarepair #thank you Lambert #and I'm sorry #more to come!#Stay tuned #The witcher #Lambert #Essi Daven #Bardcore: dark mode

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Ducktales Shadow Into Light (Lena Retrospective): Friendship Hates Magic! (Commission by WeirdKev27)

Hello all you happy people! And welcome, and to some of you welcome back to Shadow Into Light, my fully paid for but gladly done Lena retrospective, covering everyone’s faviorite lesbian emo shadow’s personal jounrey through all three seasons and some brucey bonuses.

So this time we pick up in mid-season 2.. yes MID season 2. Though for once taking so long to adress things had valid reasons. It dosen’t make the 8 month wait for Lena to return and for Violet to show up, her concept art having been shown off shortly before Shadow War aired during San Diego Comic Con, any less aggravating, especially since the episode did air overseas before that but never leaked anywhere properly. So I knew she’d be okay but not HOW.

As I said though.. they had their reasons. The episode was set for episode 8 in production order, right behind whatever Happened to Della Duck? which answered the other big cliffhanger from season 1, Della’s exile on the moon. So while this episode was back in the queue, along with Della’s, which had to wait till after the christmas episode to air because said episode takes place before it. So waiting on this episode was fair on the crew’s part even knowing it was a hiatus.

It ended up getting pushed back by a week once the episodes started airing.. but as outlined last time, THIS TIME Disney actually moved it for good reason instead of just doing so because shut up. See the problem with moving episodes around in season 2.. is Della’s return. Several episodes that in theory could’ve easily been pushed back instead of this one, Depths of Cousin Fethry, Treasure of the Found Lamp... couldn’t because they take place BEFORE Della came back and it’d be weird to air them after. One features Donald, the other dosen’t but still lacks Della and it’d be weird if it did> While this episode takes place before Della comes back or was at least meant to, no one appears in person, and Beakly mentoning “the boys and scrooge” at the bin could simply be her forgetting Della’s a part of things for a second. It’s not entirely in character, but it’s much easier than explaning why Della’s not there and Donald is.

They also moved one episode ahead of this.. but it’s one I approve of. See from episode 7 onward the episodes were aired in week long duckbombs, woo-ooo. I I don’t fault disney for it or the reason I suspect they had for doing this: while it wasn’t the intended way of airing, they likely did this airing style to get shows on Disney Plus quicker for it’s debut and given they’ve sunk a LOT of money into the streaming service and it’s a key part of their future, I can’t blame them for wanting the entire series thus far on the platform at launch. It’s one of if not their most popular show at the moment. They wanted it front and center.

So this one took an extra week to air, and an extra day as they aired raiders of the doomsday vault right after Della’s return in “Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!”.. which is also not a bad move. Fans wanted more of Della and her bonding with the kids, I wanted more of that so while the wait was grumble inducing, it was worth the tradeoff to get more of this character and her bonding with Dewey.. and let’s face it Glomgold. You know what i’m about at this point.

So there were delays but not the mind boggling ones that reshuffled the season last time and by next season there’d be zero reshuffling with both holiday episodes designed to go anywhere. So with the history and the agonizing wait out of the way join me under the cut as a snark knight returns, a new fan faviorite debuts and Beakly gets sucked into Launchpad’s awful fandom.

We open our story at the Duckburg Library. Man I fucking miss the library. I mean you can go by apointment and what not but I also have library card debt and stuff, and it’s just not the same.

Anyways naturally Webby is going there to research the Shadow Realm in hopes of finding something to bring Lena back. Last week was “Children’s Card Games, Dark Magic and You! by Professor Yugi Moto which while enlightening got her nowhere. Next up is “Shadow Games on Motorcycles!: How a Crimson Dragon defeated a giant Shadow Monster and brought the dead back and I helped by Doctor Yusei Fudo”.

But that one’s not in yet so she instead goes to the Librarian to get another book.. and it’s Quackfaster! Horay! As for why she’s working two jobs, she’s saving up for a retirement condo in BIRDDDBAAADDOOOSSSSS. I had to type it that way it’s ape law.

But her next book “I Went there and it Sucked, My Time in the Shadow Realm by Mayor of New Jersey Joey Wheeler” is taken by “another strange little girl”. Quackfaster, you chase people around with a scimitar. Just accept your the weird one and live with it like me. You’ll be happier that way.

And so we finally meet Violet whose introduced pitch perfectly. Webby gives out her usual “Hi I”m Webby”.. and Violet simply holds a finger up, finishes her page and gives a simple “Yes?” It demonstrates her quite nature, her love of reading and her lack of social skills all in one fell swoop. The ensuing dead language off is also pretty damn adorable reminding me of that scene from “Lisa’s Wedding” where she and Hugh fight over a book and reading it before making out.. minus the making out because these are children, no one wants that, and Webby is taken. .and even then again children. Most we get is an innocent peck and some blushing.

So Violet, finding out Webby needs it and is researching the arcane too offers to research together tonight, bringing a sleeping bag just in case it goes on long... to Lena’s unheard objections as she’s rattled by the break in her normal routine with Webby, and the possibility of Webby falling for someone else. I mean this i framed as a friendship thing... but you can only say “friend” so many times in a work before you sound like a retired grandma in denial about their granddaughter.

Later at the Mansion, Beakley is enjoying a nice quiet afternoon to herself. Turns out once a month Scrooge has “Binventory Day” where he and the boys catalogue the bin for hours giving her a night to herself and Webby. Webby loudly interuppts the peace as is Cartoon Law, but Beakley is pleased Webby is getting back on the friendship horse.

Bentina ends up ruining it a bit though by bringing up her previous slumber party disasters... which even Lena at her most jealous admits were her fault and only agrees to in the hopes Webby’s going to cancel. Instead Webby decides to make this the most normal sleepover ever! The one where her new friend is coming to specifically help her with magic.

Bentina tries to back her grandaughter/daughter down from this insane logic, but Webby does, if innocently clap back well to her being the one to give her “Be yourself” advice. “I’m not like you Granny, I need to have friends”

And while Webby quickly flees after Beakley tries to deny it.. she’s not wrong. She has exactly one friend who she works for and no social life to speak of.. and as far as I can tell she’s fine this way. Beakley is happy with her work and raising Webby and has someone to talk to in Scrooge. She has everything she needs, while Webby is a social butterfly.. a socially inept social butterfly. She needs people and loves meeting new people and needs friends and not just her family. One’s an introvert the other’s an extrovert. I’m both at times, and before you ask why yes it is a living nightmare thank you so much for asking. I get where both are coming from. And Beakley clearly had friends at one point it’s just a long war with FOWL and a sudden granddaughter probably whittled it down to just Scrooge. It’s okay to be yourself.

So this is where the plotlines split off, so as usual, i’m splitting the up.

Launchpad and Beakley in Getting To Know You And Getting Sucked INto Your Strange and Lovely Fandom

So Beakley naturally cries out “name one person I don’t get along with.. and in walks Launchpad , Nature’s Perfect Himbo, having destroyed the gate and at least being honest he probably will again. Why he’s here when the boys and Scrooge are all gone?

But I don’t care as this subplot is just.. a nonstop delight. Starting with Beakly inviting Launchpad to sup with her.. which just confuses him. Look Bentina you have to use small words.. it’s a miracle he gets up in the morning, dreses himself and hasn’t died in a tragic gasoline fight accident. You have to know your audience. Still funny.

And “not knowing your audience” continues as Beakly serves them pea soup but Launchpad is intimidated by the spoons and while she does offer to help instead tries to use all of them then a straw and then falls facedown in his soup. And this is the SECOND TIME Beakly’s left someone living at the mansion to die. I mean that’s not a lot but it’s still weird it happened twice.

Finally they sit quitely, Beakly reading the Scarlet Pimpernell, and Launchpad doing a coloring book. And besides the odd couple energy what I really like about this subplot.. is that it fleshes Beakly out> This is one of her ONLY plots in the entire goddamn series, yes really. 70 episodes and she only got five spotlight episodes/plots. But it does at least show her off: her upperclass pedigree we really don’t see often, showing that while she applied to the job as maid out of necisity she knows her stuff, her love of classic literature and her being out of touch with the common person. It’s not a ton but it’s more than ninja butler or “stop having fun with your kids della and be a parent”. I mean she wasn’t wrong but she could’ve been nicer about it given the circumstances.

So Launchpad, given Beakley’s never shown any interest in him as a person before, assumes she’s going to fire him and was just softening him up. I mean Scrooge himself outright said he never would and if he did he’d do it to your face, hard as it’d be. But that aside, he’s fine with getting to know her once he knows that no he’s not being fired she just wanted to hang out, he’s everyone’s friend. But naturally an upperclash british former super spy and a dumb as a bucket with a heart of gold pilot have nothing in common, not even aircraft as “plane go up, plane crash going down’ is about the extent of his actual knowledge on aircraft that isn’t instinct or dumb luck.

He does manage to break the ice though, mistaking her book for a Darkwing Duck book and deciding to show her the show since it might be something they have in common. At first she’s as unintuhsed as you’d expect a british lady who never watches the telly watching a 90′s kids show would be.. but by the end she’s gotten all the way into it.

It’s really endearing, showning that two vastly diffrent people with nothing can common can be brought together by something as simple and glorious as liking the same show. I’ve had it happen with me. She naturally is all for filiming his fanscript after the finale provides no answers, being the one to suggest it and the two end the episode shooting it with her in full darkwing duck cosplay. I’ts a cute and entertaining subplot and a nice contrast to the main plot which while not super dark, does have a fog of tension over it. Speaking of which.

Webby, Lena and Violet: In Two’s Company, Three Accidently Creates Monsters That Nearly Take Your Girlfriend Off Into The Shadowy Abyss So the slumber party gets underway with Webby shooing away Duckworth after clearing out her room to greet Violet herself and violet having brought pie... a great callback to an earlier joke where Webby wondered if pie was normal at a sleepover. No but it should be. So Webby welcomes her in to her totally normal room devoid of anything. Nothing suspicious about that.

So Violet tries to get her into research, specifically Tulpas, an actual magical concept, a mental construct of some kind created out of desire, imagination or what have you. Gee I wonder if that will come into play this episode. Webby.. wants to play baggle or what have you or do makeovers and drags Violet along to do the second thing after Violet asks about Magica. Lena then finds something glowing in Violet’s bag...specifically, her old amulet, cracked but still working and flowing with Magica’s power.

Lena assumes Violet is Magica and goes to warn Webby only to find her HORRIBLY MUTATED! Naturally it’s a misdirect, as it turns out Violet is just REALLY good at special effects makeup. It’s something I honestly forgot about her... i’m betting one of her dad’s is an effects artist. Just saying that’d be neat. But Webby gives the “i’m normal really even though I live in a giant mansion with my dad I don’t know is my dad and my grandma whose actually my adopted mom” game away by pointing out the demon’s fang is crooked and Violet is curious and heads to Webby’s room finding a picture from said demon. He signed it and everything. Good man that Rakshaka.

Webby is worried Violet will be freaked out by all the weird but nope, she enjoys it. And it’s not a suprise: violet is actively researching the shadow dimension. Why WOULD she be scared off. The conflict was in Webby’s head all along.. and partly out of PTSD, but we’ll get to that. Webby still tries to get her to baggle but they settle on ancient rune dice baggle and summoning some spirits. Lena scoffs.. until it actually works. It does make sense though: As we’ll see in her last starring role, Lena is kinda like Wanda Maximoff: she has an extreme amount of power but she has no idea how to use it and is simply making up most of her magic as she goes along or took magica’s lead. But the spell means Lena can touch the dice so she spells out don’t trust her.. but forgets she’s dealing with two nerds who love unlocking puzzles and assume the message is on the dice themselves.

Webby and Violet decide they need more clarity and resume the seance.. which summons mysterious white shadow creatures Lena saw before.. .some now taking Magica’s shape. And Lena’s panicked “Oh not again” says it all. So Lena tries the tried and true bedsheet ghost cliche, grumbling about it but showing up as a ghost without any abillity to speak or talk to webby dosen’t do anything and Violet tackles the sheet before deciding to grab the amulet to dispiate the spirit.. only for Lena to show up for a breif second before she does show making the panicked child look incredibly supscious.

Webby naturally tackles and interrogates Violet wanting the full story. And it turns out the big secret is.. Violet is entirely normal. Nothing to do with Magica, no possesions or secretly being her or a minon of hers... she was just a logic obsessed 12 year old who thought magic was a myth.. until the Shadow War proved “Nope it’s real everything you know is wrong. Up is down black is white and short is long”. She just happened to be close to the bin and found the amulet when the remains of the staff fell near her and compacted back into it.

It’s a brilliant reveal. See first watch around your genuinely unsure if Violet is a real person or not.. unless you went in knowing she is, but semantics. Point is most first time viewers didn’t know she’d be a beloved member of the supporting cast and didn’t know what to expect. But looking back... it makes no sense. If Magica had the amulet.. why would she need to infiltrate the mansion. Revenge? Possibly but she’d want Scrooge there too. Even being evil on her own Violet had valid opportunity to pilfer Webby’s magical items, she has an entire box of magic rocks right there and then simply zap her with the amulet. But she didn’t.. because Violet is a person. When she DOES use it she’s utterly terrified, and we can see her breathing heavy, scared.. something Magica has NEVER been of Lena. To Violet it was just a ghost. Webby hadn’t told her about lena and any information she had about her was second hand from newspapers and the like.

Webby is sympathetic, as Violet’s feeling of being sheltered from this greater world naturally resonates and while Lena is still supscious, having reincorperated, it’s clear Webby trusts violet and simply dosen’t want to loose another friend to magic. Here trying to hide it now takes another tone.. she knows Lena was behind it.. but is so afraid of it consuming violet the way it did Lena, she forgets almost ALL of the weird magic stuff in sleepovers was magica’s manipulation, and that Lena died because her creator was a monster, not because of magic. Magic is not inherently good or bad, it just is, and that will come back as a theme in a few episodes. It allowed Magica to ravage the town and kill Lena.. but it allowed Lena to exist in the first place and while the terrible events with Magica clearly shook her.. it also shook violet out of her complacency and got her to research a world she never would’ve considered. Good can come from bad.

And it’s with this in mind that Violet.. does not give up. She’s stayed in her box enough.. and now she knows the spirit is a friendly one.. she figures they can bring Lena BACK using the amulet. After all it was lena’s and the source of her powers.. it might be the key to reiviving her. And while Lena, if invisibly as always, remarks it’s dangerous.. Webby, with no hesitation agrees to get her girlfriend back. It’s risky sure.. but what Lena hasn’t gotten is she’s WORTH the list. She’s so full of self loathing from both her manupations of webby and Magica’s gaslighting and abuse that she can’t see herself being worth anything even as Webby spent MONTHS trying to save her, clearly still loves her, and only didn’t want violet getting hurt because she misses her. Webby still loves and needs her for who Lena is.. Lena just can’t it and it hurts to think about that.

So the girls once again try to summon Lena and it starts to work.. but also summons the Tulpa’s back... this time taking Magica’s form and causing a suspcious lena to panic.. and suck both of them into the shadow realm. We get the reunion we’ve been waiting for as Webby tackle hugs her happily.

But it’s soon cut short as Lena still thinks Violet is just manipulating Webby, lying to her and that “she’s mine!”

For the record Joss Whedon sucks, not taking that out on Anthony Stewart Head or the guys who actually wrote the episode. Moving on.

I feel Lena’s jealousy comes from the aformentioned self loathing, mixed with a life of having to live just to surivive at the beck and call of a throughly awful person who didn’t consider her a sentient being worthy of anything especially love. She can’t fathom anyone else loving Webby the way she does because she feels once webby has anyone else.. she won’t need her. It’s toxic and wrong.. but it’s easy to see why that’d happen when sh’es only had one healthy relationship. She barely knows the boys, Beakly only grew to tolerate her and she was only friends with Scrooge for like.. a minute. Webby is the only person she knows, loves and trusts and she just can’t risk loosing that and can’t convince herself to share.

In a realistic scenario Lena would have to simply learn to trust and let her girlfriend have other relationshps and that hogging her all to herself is inhernetly toxic and bad. And while she still does we’re talking about a living pile of shadows smooching a clone, so yeah instead the tulpas come out and drag her off..and take Lena’s form. While Lena tries to blame Violet, Violet has absolutley none of that and makes Lena see the hard truth: Lena is so worried about being forgotten, she created the tulpas by accidnet. As I said her power is raw and unfocused.. so she didn’t do it on purpose nor did she realize how toxic she was being. This finally snaps Lena back to reality, and see Violet geniunely cares about Webby and any ulterior motives were just in her head, so the two agree to work together, using a similar chant to the one from Jaws to destroy the Tulpas and save Webby.

So the shadow realm is disapated and our trio are returned to the human world.. but Lena, not being part of it and no longer having a tether.. starts to disolve, with a really heartbreaking scene of Webby holding her hand, as does violet. But.. then a miracle happens. Since the Bracelet was Lena’s link to Webby, and to her own magic, with it and the amulet close by.. both swirl around Lena, and the power of love.. for a new friend and a first love... revivies her. Mist parts.. and we get one heartwarming sign that after all this time “I’m back?!” Lena is confused.. but once again part of this plane of reality. She’s free and WEbby triumphanthly hugs her with Violet joining in. By letting go of her hate.. Lena returned to who she loved. They also run into the end of the other subplot and Launchpad’s casual hey lena is just great.

So our heroes are reunited and doing horror makeup and I really love Webby’s updo here and wish more works fan nd otherwise used it. WE get a final fakeout as Lena seemingly disovles and Violet reveals herself as magica.. only for it to be a prank and Webby to just be glad the love of her life and her new best friend get a long. We get one last hearwarming image and we close out.. with Lena finally having what she always wanted freedom. And while she may not know it yet in accepting violet.. she’s finally found family. More on that in a few weeks.

Final Thoughts: This episode is excellent. It’s not the best of the Lena arc, that comes next and it does drag once or twice.. but overall it’s a really great character piece, with a nice ballance betwen the tense main plot and the funny and goofy subplot. It adds more to Lena’s character, finally brings her back, while giving us a new and throughly fascenating new character to rave about in Violet, as well as giving Webby her own personal squad. It’s a great episode.. and only leads to a better one. But we’ll get to that in a week or so. First we have a bit of a detour and my plug.

If you liked this review, follow for more, spread it around, and join my patreon. It’s almost time for new patreons to pay up and if you hit my stretch goal i’ll review a darkwing duck episode next month and every month! We’re just five bucks away people! And if you’d like to just comission a review directly it’s just 5 bucks an episode and avaliable via my dms, ask or discord.

Next Time on Shadow Into Light: We take a break from the last two Lena episodes to go to one of her sources as we head back to Ducktales 87 with Magica’s Shadow War! I know almost nothing going in so... Shadow betrayals and stuff? Yay?

Tommorow: It’s Fenton’s birthday! And since i’ve done a LOT of ducktales recently and can’t do super ducktales till I hit my next stretch goal at 25 bucks, we’re going back to ST Canard at long last for Gizmoducks second apperance.. which can’t possibly be worse than the first so i’m excited. Let’s get dangerous tommorow!

#lena sabrewing #webby vanderquack #ducktales #weblena #violet sabrewing #shadow into light #friendship hates magic #great title by the way #bentina beakley #launchpad mcquack #darkwing duck

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adrenaline-roulette · 3 years

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Four Eighths

Pairing: Four x Eight (Reader) Word Count: 8K+ (She’s a doozy!) Warnings: Language, angst, very basic medical procedures *Disclaimer: Hey again guys, so sorry about the delay with this chapter. But I’ll admit, I actually got this posted a lot sooner than I thought I would! So kudos to me I guess? I just want to say a huge thank you to all of those who have been with this story since the beginning, and those who have joined us along the way. This isn’t the end of this story, but I just want to let you all know how much you all mean to me. And please remember, if you read this story and you like it, give it a like, a comment and maybe even a reblog if you think your followers may like it? I know there isn’t much happening in the 6 Underground fandom these days, but the only way to keep it alive, is if people keep reading and writing for the characters!

All my love my dudes ❤❤❤

Probably best if you check out the other chapters first..... One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

Chapter Eleven: Don’t let me fall, at least not alone

“Four? Can you hear me?” Billy felt weak, and highly disoriented. His head was spinning, as if he actually was fighting a migraine, unlike the one he was supposed to be faking…. Faking, why was he faking a migraine again? “Four, stay with us!” The voice continued calling out, though why was this person yelling out a number? A name sure, he could understand that. But calling out random numbers? That just served to confuse him more.

“Four, god dammit! Keep your fucking eyes open!” This was a new voice now, one which sounded just as Billy’s eyes had slowly drifted closed against the harsh fluorescent lights above him. How strange, surely these people weren’t addressing him were they?

“Four, please just stay with us a little longer! Five, how are you going with those injections?” The same voice from before was firing orders, her voice holding an edge of fear and concern. Suddenly a shadow appeared above his closed eyes, and carefully he peeled them open, relieved to not be greeted with bright lights, and instead by a shadowed figure. “Billy, please just keep your eyes open for me. You’re going to be fine, I swear.” She was whispering to him, or at least that’s what it sounded like. Though it was hard to be sure, especially as he struggled to keep his eyes from falling shut once more.

How had things turned out like this? The last thing he could recall, was speaking with a woman dressed in white at a reception desk. Then it had all gone blank for him.

*****

You paced around the small living room of the house you had all been calling base for the past few weeks, sucking in deep breath after deep breath, all the while clutching your arms around yourself in a tight embrace. “Nope, I can’t do it. I cannot do this guys!”

Two looked up at you from her gossip magazine, having taken great pleasure in the abundance of French reading material. She was the only one of you in the group to have settled into your temporary accommodation, and was fitting in with the locals perfectly. Rolling her eyes at your outburst, she returned to her reading. It wasn’t that she was being unsupportive, far from it actually. It was just that she had reached her limit of words of support, forty odd minutes ago, at the beginning of your breakdown.

“Yes, you can. You know you can! We’ve been over the plan hundreds of times now, everything is in place. Weapons are stored in the hospital, the Lushnick’s are there, we’ve seen them! Everything is working out according to plan. Four will be on his way to Emergency within a few hours, then it’s all up to us. We can’t leave him.” It was One’s turn to play reassurer this time around, and he was the first to raise Four as if knowing it would get a rise out of you.

You whirl on the spot, eyes growing wide and pupils blown. “I never suggested we leave Four! I ju– I just don’t know if this mission is a good idea is all?”

One sighed, squaring his shoulders before smoothing his hands down his turquoise scrubs. “Eight, if you had one shot, or one opportunity. To seize everything you ever wanted in one moment, would capture it? Or just let it slip?”

You stare at One, blinking slowly as silence fills the room. “Is – Was that Eminem?” You stammer, shaking your head gently, as if to clear the fog which had settled there. Surely you were mistaken, One couldn’t be quoting Lose yourself, right?....

“Does it make it any better or worse knowing this isn’t the first time he’s used that as a motivational speech?” Seven grins, winking at you impishly.

“I think what makes it worse is knowing that no matter what reaction he got last time, he still decided to try it again!”

“Touché, and dude, get yourself a better speech already!” Seven smirks, patting One on the shoulder as he walks by and towards the kitchen. His uniform shirt half buttoned as he goes.

“Why does everyone know that song straight away?” One groans, looking genuinely confused.

“Because it’s the bloody 2020’s! And not to hate on Slim or anything, but for the love of god, replace your ipod shuffle, and listen to some new music. Please!” You plead, as the startling thought of One thinking lose yourself was a new song creeped its way into your mind, causing you to shudder.

Five steps out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam billowing out behind her. Looking like the absolute goddess she is, with her hair wrapped in a fluffy towel, and a robe concealing her, she fixes you with a strong look. “Eight. You are ready for this. Upon our first mission, we were all terrified. But we pulled through, one way or another we did what needed to be done, and look where we are now. I know what you’re feeling, we all do. We’ve all been there, trust me. But the only way this will work, the only way we will be able to get to the Lushnick’s, is if we stick together and work this mission just as we’ve planned. That means all of us. We can’t be a member short, not this time.” Without waiting for your response, Five walks away, closing a bedroom door behind her.

You have no response, no witty retort. Nothing. Not that it would matter, Five wasn’t there to hear it anyway. Chewing on your bottom lip, you turn back to One, who still looked somewhat put out by your ipod comment. “Has anyone seen my uniform?”

*****

Just after 11am, Billy made his way to the hospital and into the Emergency department, cradling his head between his palms, and groaning in mock agony. His earpiece was safely tucked in his ear, providing him contact with his team. Contact which he had been severely missing these past few weeks. At first it had been bearable, what with your secret texts on your burner phone. But when One had arrived at the safe house, it had been harder to sneak messages, until finally they had ceased all together. But hearing your voice now, ringing through his ears, he felt like he was home. Despite walking into a hospital.

“Genevieve Lushnick is on the move. Last seen leaving Ward 11A.” You advise everyone.

“She finished her rounds in Paediatrics much earlier, not sure where she’s headed now.” Five recalls, the sounds of crying infants in the background of her voice.

“Usually her roster would have her checking on Geriatrics in Ward 7B next. But She’s already been there. That was her second visit of the day.” Seven advises, though he sounds confused. To be fair, so does everyone else. Genevieve was changing up her routine, something she hadn’t done at all during their surveillance of her. So why now?

“Hold on, let me see if I can track her down through the live camera feeds.” You suggest, the sounds of your fingers flying across a keyboard breaking the silence which followed.

Billy’s concentration on the conversation happening in his ear is cut off by a woman dressed in white sat at the Emergency reception desk. A nurse from the looks of her. “Bonjour, comment puis-je vous aider?” She blinks wide amber eyes up at Billy, who stares back confusedly.

“Uh, En-English?” A part of him wants to chastise himself for not learning French for this mission. But knowing he was playing the part of a tourist he allowed himself some leeway in the preparation department.

The nurse smiles further, though the more teeth she shows the more forced it looks. “Of course. How may I help you today sir?”

“I just flew in a few days ago, and I have an awful headache. I’ve never experienced anything like it before. All lights are too bright, I feel weak, my head is pounding, and I feel nauseas.”

“Has this just begun, or is this an ongoing issue?”

“No, it just started this morning. I took a couple of paracetamol to help when I woke up, but they’ve done nothing.”

The nurse nods her head, looking down at her computer, as Billy adds in a groan for effect. Just as the nurse asks for personal details, One appears from the behind the desk. “Goodness, what’s wrong with this man? He looks like death on two legs!”

Billy repeats what he had just told the nurse, with One nodding along, and playing every part the good doctor. “You need to be seated immediately. Someone, bring me a wheelchair!” One calls in the direction of the wardsmen who are stood around the waiting room. “Jennifer, you need to be more familiar with signs of a migraine. This young man, what was your name sir?”

“James.” Billy moans, falling back into the wheelchair once it appears behind him, laying his head back for added effect.

“Yes, James could have collapsed at any moment. Please be more mindful next time.” One warns, a harsh glare in his eyes directed at the young nurse.

“O-of course Doctor Cleavers. It won’t happen again.”

Billy can barley contain his smirk at the sound of One’s alias, covering his attempted chuckle with a well-timed groan.

“Does anyone have eyes on Gregory?” Two whispers harshly into her earpiece, causing Billy to flinch slightly, just as one does the same. Christ, Two needs to keep her tone down!

It’s Three’s turn to respond first now, who sounds quite proud of himself as he speaks. “He’s up in theatres, doing God knows what to God knows who.” The sound of a trolley filled with rattling dishes being pushed, barely making his mumbled voice audible.

One moves around behind Billy, kicking up the brake on the wheelchair, and pushing him towards the swipe pass activated doors, leading to the Emergency treatment area. The deafening silence flowing through both his and Billy’s earpieces cause the two men to glance at each other nervously.

“How long ago did you see Gregory heading to theatres?” You ask, an edge of worry hinting at your tone.

Yet another long pause, until. “During breakfast rounds… I suppose two hours ago, maybe?” Three no longer sounds sure of himself, which sets in a sinking feeling in all those on the team.

“He was scheduled to finish surgery one hour ago. Has anyone seen him this past hour?” You snap back, perhaps more of a bite in your words than you had intended.

“Negative.” Replies One in a quiet voice, while smiling at fellow doctors as he pushed Billy.

“No.” That was Two.

“Nope.” Five now, who had been awfully quiet so far.

“Neither.” Three mumbles, likely feeling as dejected as he sounded.

“Well you know I haven’t.” Billy smirks. It was a risk him speaking to the group like this, but currently with his head tilted back, and staring up at the ceiling as he was being wheeled down a corridor, no one really paid any attention to him.

“I’ve only seen Genevieve. The two haven’t been together all morning sorry.” Seven whispers.

“Fuck me…” You breathe out, slamming your fists down on the desk. “I can’t see either of them on the live feeds!”

Carefully, Billy lifts his head once again, turning over his shoulder to peer up at One, who was frowning and staring dead ahead. “Is there a problem Doctor Cleavers?” He mumbles, keeping the act up for anyone who may pass.

“There very well may be.” One mutters, only glancing down at Billy for a brief moment.

The two continue down the corridor for another few minutes, the bright clinical lights beginning to bring on a genuine headache for Billy now. Finally, they come to a stop in a large treatment room, multiple beds lining the walls, all encircled by blue curtains. Some had been drawn for patient’s privacy, while others remained opened. In the centre of the room was a large desk where Nurses and Doctors hurried to and from, collecting and depositing various prescriptions and clinical orders. “James, are you able to stand to bring yourself over to the bed?” One asks, raising his voice enough to somewhat put on a show for those nearby.

The temptation to ask One to pick him up is almost too great to pass up, but knowing that somehow it would come back to haunt him, Billy opts for standing himself. “I think I can manage, thank you Doc.” Standing slowly, Billy pivots on the spot, and shuffles over to the bed, hoisting himself up and laying back.

“We’ll need to bring your fluids up, I’m worried about you becoming dehydrated. We’ll need to cannulate you. Have you ever had a cannula before?” One asks, waving for a nurse to come and assist him.

“No, I don’t think I have.”

“Not to worry, it’s relatively quick and painless.”

The nurse hurries over, and listens as One fires orders at him, orders which he had picked up from watching medical shows, mostly scrubs…. “We need James on a drip ASAP, get that started now!”

“Right away Doctor Cleavers.” The nurse agrees, before moving off to grab the necessary equipment.

Billy turns his attention to One, raising his eyebrows in concern. “Are you seriously going to stick a needle in me?” He hisses, emerald eyes flashing in fear.

One shrugs lightly, turning away from Billy to keep an eye out for the nurse. “Well, I’m not going to be injecting you. Can’t say the same for the nurse though.”

Billy wants to scream, at no stage during the briefings had there been any mention of him having a needle jabbed into him! Hell, if there had been any discussions of such a thing, he likely would’ve backed out! Perhaps that was why there was no mention? The nurse reappears, and preps his work station, all the while One, or Doctor Cleavers stays around to supervise the proceedings, occasionally chiming in with his theories as to what the cause for his sudden pain could be.

“Four! One! They’re coming!” Your voice breaks through the stinging sensation of the needle, panic flying through Billy’s veins. “The Lushnick’s! I finally found them on the cameras, they’re headed straight for-” Your voice is broken by puffing breaths, and the sound of your feet pounding on the tiles as you sprint from somewhere else in the hospital.

“Emergency.” Billy finishes, as the two people who he had been staring at photographs of for months now, strut into the treatment room, patients and doctors alike parting like the red sea as the couple head towards Billy and One. Four sets of eyes meet, and no member of either team is willing to break concentration.

“We’ve been expecting you.” Genevieve grins, her canine teeth almost too pointed, like fangs brushing against her ruby painted lips.

“Thank you, Eric, you’ve done a wonderful job here.” Gregory turns to the nurse and nods his head, the nurse returning the gesture and leaving the group.

“Eight for Four, come in Four!” Your voice shouts in his ear, causing Billy to flinch away.

“Ah, that must be the rest of your team I take it? Not to worry, we have our people taking care of them as we speak.” Genevieve shrugs, before turning to One. “Seeing as you’re so good at playing Doctor, you’ll be pushing your friend. He won’t be awake much longer. I would hate for him to collapse.”

At these words, Billy shoots up on the bed, his head spinning as he does so. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Genevieve waves him off, her nails painted the same shimmering ruby as her lips. “Surely you don’t expect me to give away our secrets? That’s not how people like us work.”

One steps behind Billy’s bed, and begins driving it forwards, following behind the Lushnick’s with a scowl. Billy could see the wheels in his mind turning, as he tried to formulate a plan of escape, though from every way he looked at it, they were pretty well fucked. He could feel his body growing tired, and his mind becoming clouded and dazed, whatever they had given him, it was taking over his body quickly, and any minute now he would be useless to the team.

*****

Fuck! The entire team had lost the Lushnick’s! How did that even happen? Seven was supposed to be trailing them, he had been doing so every other day perfectly, but what the fuck had gone wrong today? Your fingers fly across the keyboard, frantically switching between all the cameras in the hospital. Some provided a live feed, while others only offered playback, but at this point in time you would take what you could get. Window after window pops open on your monitor, squinting at the slightly pixelated images to try and identify who was being filmed.

“There!” You practically scream, causing one of the guards walking past your office to jump, turning a concerned look your way. “Sorry, just uh – finally got a fly that’s been harassing me all morning.” You blurt out, though with a shrug, the guard walks on, either having bought the lie or not caring enough to question it further. You gaze back at the image on your screen, it was from one of the playback cameras. Both Gregory and Genevieve were spotted seven minutes ago in one of the staff only corridors, leading between the imaging department and emergency. “Seven minutes…. How long does it take to get there?”

“Three! Come in Three!”

“Bloody hell, no need to yell Eight. What is it?”

“On your delivery route, how long does it usually take to get between X-ray and Emergency?”

Three pauses to think, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he does so. “Roughly twenty minutes.”

“We’re fucked.”

“What? What does that mean?!”

You ignore the frantic questions streaming from Three, the others shortly joining in with their own confusion. But you didn’t have time to address their concerns, right now there was only one thing on your mind. Beating the Lushnick’s to the Emergency room. With your heart hammering in your chest, and breathing coming out in desperate gasps you turn back to your computer, snaking your way into the hospital power grid.

You know how to do this, it’s just like what you did for your museum heist way back when you had met One. But for some reason, your brain can’t seem to summon the image of what you need to do. You could try a keyboard smash now that you’re in the controls, but that could seriously damage literally everything… “Come on, just think dammit.” You snarl at yourself, clasping your hands into fists, and pressing them against your temples.

Eyes springing open, you fix a harsh glare at the blinking screen before you, asking for a password. “Y’all Lushnick’s are fucked.” The password it simple to guess, trust the Lushnick’s to use their fucking last name as a password. They may be smart in what they do, but they sure as hell know nothing about internet security. The screen turns black, with a 3D model of the hospital slowly building itself on your screen. With each scroll of your mouse, the model shifts, and enlarges to a new section of the hospital. A blinking blue bar in the top left of the screen offers a text space, and going on a hunch, you type in ‘Geriatrics’ and press enter. The model disintegrates into tiny pixels, before rebuilding just the section you had searched. “Brilliant…” You whisper to yourself.

The geriatrics ward of the hospital consisted of one main power source, with a backup which would boot up and provide energy to the most necessary equipment and lights in the event of the main grid failing. “Five for Eight, come in?”

“Eight here, what’s going on?”

“I’m being followed. There’s security blocking off just about every exit on this floor, and no matter where I go, there’s someone behind me, or waiting for me.”

“Has anyone else got this issue?” You call out, eagerly awaiting replies. There’s a resounding yes in response, with the only discrepancy coming from Seven.

“A couple of guards caught up to me in 11B, they’ve brought me along to help catch the infiltrators.”

“So they don’t know you’re a part of this?”

“Seems like it. And from what I gather, they aren��t onto you either…”

“Perfect, Seven stay with your team. There’s about to be a Code Blue in geriatrics. I’ll put the call through to all security to get to the ward, that should give the rest of you time to escape. Rendezvous in Staff corridor D.”

You don’t wait to hear the replies from your team, once again your body working quicker than your mind. Your hands already working on shutting down the power to the Geriatrics ward. You should feel worse than you do, you were putting innocent people’s lives at risk. But the one thing which had been drilled into you from the begging was, the team comes first wherever possible. It was Seven who insisted on this. But who were you to argue with him?

Your eyes are glued to your screen as you watch a warning light appear over the 3D model you had been working with. ‘WARNING! Main power grid will be turned off. WARNING!’ It was rather polite of the system to warn you of the damage you were about to inflict, however the flashing red image did little to stop you. With one final mouse click, a new pop up appeared on your screen. This one somehow even more urgent, despite no red flashing lights. ‘WARNING! Main power grid for geriatrics has now been turned off. Back up system now operating.’ An alarm was blaring throughout your office, warning you and all security who remained nearby of a system failure. “All units. Repeat, all units to Geriatric ward immediately. Power failure. All units report.” You instruct through the P/A system.” Instantly, you watch as two security guards’ race past your office, down the hall and towards the stairwell.

“Five, have they gone? Can you get out?” You ask carefully, keeping your voice low in case of any security stragglers.

“Yeah, they’ve all gone now. Jesus Eight, what kind of a system failure did you make?” You can hear her laughing now, though you know the doctor side of her is genuinely concerned as to what chaos you had caused.

“Nothing that should cause any real harm, but it’s done the trick.” You smirk, locking your computer and stepping out of the office.

You knew the security alert wouldn’t deter the Lushnick’s, hell even if the building was on fire, you doubt they would stray from their current target. But if your calculations were correct, you still had at least five minutes to warn One and Four of their impending arrival. Your heavy combat boots pound against the tiles, sprinting your way towards corridor D, praying the others would already be there, or at least arriving soon. Pressing your index finger against your earpiece, your voice sounding frantic even to you. “Four! One! They’re coming!”. They had time, they had to have time….. But with no response from either, you try again. “The Lushnick’s! I finally found them on the cameras, they’re headed straight for Emergency!”

Nothing, not a single word from Four or One. This wasn’t right, they were supposed to have time still, plenty of time to get out of Emergency and meet you and the team. But as you round the corner to Staff corridor D, there’s no One, and sure as hell no Billy. “Thank God you got here alright!” Five gasps, running over to you and wrapping her arms around you. You had never known her to be much of a hugger, but you suppose high stakes situations like this could change a person. Checking over her shoulder you spot Three, Seven, and Two all talking amongst themselves. “Where’re Four and One?” You ask timidly, stepping away from Five’s embrace slowly, and looking between her and the rest of the team.

No one seems inclined to answer you, which only serves to send a deep chill down your spine, and for a solid mass to feel as if it had been lodged in your throat. Pressing on your earpiece again, you try calling for the two again. “Eight for Four and One, come in both of you.”

There’s again no reply, and your heart feels like it’s being strangled. “I heard some of the guards talking. There was talk of a couple of intruders being found…” Seven begins, his dark eyes meeting yours, with a look which could only be described as true sympathy.

Sharp, electric static echoes through your teams ears, all earpieces but yours going haywire for five seconds, before silence once more. “What the fuck was that?” Three snarls, ripping the piece out and glaring at it between his large fingers.

An all too familiar voice speaks slowly now in your ear, but as you look around you realise this voice was only speaking to you. No one else could hear her. “Well, who do we have here. You’re not the Doctor, I would recognise her voice anywhere. And you’re obviously not the French one, unless you’ve managed to disguise your accent, which I truly doubt. So who are you…”

“I’m not playing any of your sick little games Genevieve. Where is the rest of my team?” You hiss, causing the others to look up and over to you.

“Eight? What’s going on?” Two asks carefully, stepping towards you slowly.

“Who are you talking to? Three asks, lifting his brows up.

“Ah, see. There’s the French one! I knew you had to be someone else! Eight was it? Oh how interesting. So what, did another one of your team die? Is that why you’re here?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about! I’m not someone’s replacement.”

“Oh aren’t you? Well that just makes this even more special then doesn’t it? Tell me, which one of these charming young men is Four who you seem so concerned about? Is it this ruggishly handsome tall fellow who keeps glaring at me? Or is it the pretty blonde, with the gorgeous green eyes, who’s having a hard time staying awake right now?” It’s an involuntary reaction, but at the mention of Four, your breath catches in your throat, causing a small gasp to escape your lips. “Ah, the blonde it is..”

“What have you done to him? What can’t he stay awake?”

“My my, so many questions! If you didn’t want anything to happen to him, then maybe you shouldn’t have used him a bait silly little girl!”

“Where the fuck is he?”

“I suppose I could tell you, it would be rather enjoyable to see the look on your face as we operate on him, while there’s nothing you can do about it…”

You don’t wait to hear anymore, ripping the earpiece out and throwing it as far down the corridor as possible. “Theatres. The Lushnick’s have Four and One. They’re about to do something to Four.” You gasp out, barely able to catch your breath, as tears prick the backs of your eyes.

“Shhh, Eight it’s going to be fine, I promise.” Five offers, soothing her palm down your back gently.

“Don’t you dare make empty promises.” You growl, shaking her off and racing down the hall, towards the stairwell.

*****

“What have you given him?” One growls, glaring between both the Lushnick’s and Four who lay on an operating table, barely moving and occasionally groaning. He rattled his arm against the handcuffs which kept him bound to a side railing. He was completely useless, both to himself and to his teammate.

Genevieve turned to him now, regarding him with a cold stare. “I hardly see why that matters now? You can’t do anything to help him, especially not in your current predicament.” She chuckles darkly, before turning her attention back to Gregory. The man barely spoke a word, but the sick sadistic smile which had been growing across his lips these past few minutes, was enough for One to get a better sense of his character.

“At least tell me what you’re going to do to him!” One tries again. He was running out of questions, and by the looks of things, time too. He had hoped he would be able to keep the Lushnick’s occupied long enough for you and the rest of the team to get here, but ever since Genevieve finished her conversation with you, she seemed all the more eager to get this started.

“Well that’s the fun part. Greg doesn’t know yet! Here’s how this works. Greg cuts the patient open, has a bit of a poke and prod around. Takes out what he wants, and then stitches ‘em back up! You never know what will be taken!” Genevieve grins, pressing a red kiss to Gregory’s cheek, who only grins broader.

One has to fight back to urge to both vomit, and throw punches, instead opting to glare at the duo. “You’re both sick, and you’re going to rot in hell once we’re through with you!”

Genevieve waves him off, turning her attention to Four, who was more unconscious than conscious now. Though he occasionally made a slight jolt, or mumbled a quiet sentence. “Should we wait until he is a bit more under before beginning the procedure?”

Gregory turned to her, lifting a brow in curiosity. “And risk the others getting here, before it’s too late for them to rescue him?”

Just as his words die off, a loud crash against the operating theatre door causes both Doctor’s to glance towards the sound. The crash was quickly followed by another, before a gunshot can be heard echoing throughout the circular room, the sound of a heavy body hitting the ground following. “Greg…..” Genevieve whispers, turning to the Doctor, as the double doors slam open. The metallic hingers screeching under the sudden movement.

“Where the fuck is my boyfriend?” You scream, pistol raised, and aimed directly at Genevieve Lushnick. Seven and Three stand beside you, each holding a gun of their own, with Three aimed at the nurses in the theatre, and Seven poised to fire upon Gregory. Two and Five stand either side of them, aiming at the guards behind them who were writhing on the ground, though they both remained vigilant for any further arrivals.

Gregory lifts a scalpel and hovers it directly above Four’s abdomen, poised and ready to cut. “Ah, you must be Eight.” Genevieve grins, taking a careful step towards you, as Gregory lowers the scalpel closer to Four’s bare skin.

Seven aims at the wall just above where Gregory stands, the bullet ripping a hole in the sterile room, causing Gregory to jump back almost an entire foot. “Don’t even think about trying that again.” Seven hisses, fixing the Doctor with a glare.

“Now now, there will be no need for violence.” Genevieve begins, before taking a look at the guards who were slowly bleeding out in the entry way. “At least, no more violence that is.” She steps forwards again, fixing you with an interested eye. “My goodness you look familiar. Have we met before?”

“I’m positive I would recall meeting someone as wicked and vile as you.” You spit, keeping your pistol trained on your target, your eyes following her every step.

“Hm, yes I suppose so.” You were now engaged in an odd type of dance, Genevieve was slowly circling around you, and you followed her every move, moving in a circle on the spot. “This is where the negotiations begin, I imagine.”

“There will be no negotiations. You tell us what you gave Four, you let him go, and we take you to the authorities who will make sure you both rot in a prison cell for the rest of your sorry lives.”

Genevieve shakes her head no, still walking in her slow circle around you. From an outside perspective, it was that of a lion circling its prey, though to your perspective, you had the upper hand. Or at least, you had the weapon. “No, you see that doesn’t work for us.”

“Fine. You tell us what you gave Four, you let him go, and we kill you both right here, right now.”

Genevieve shakes her head again, looking over to Gregory who was clutching the scalpel for dear life. “Eight, something’s wrong…” One calls, looking over to Four. The young man was beginning to convulse on the operating table. His skin was flushed in tiny pinprick sized red dots, and his chest was rising and falling in rapid laboured breaths.

You chance a glance over to Four, and your heart stops. Something was horrendously wrong. “Five, go check on him!” You screech, turning your full attention back on Genevieve as Five races past you. In a split second, you pocket your gun in the back of your jeans, and lurch forwards, fists griping into the collar of Genevieve’s shirt. You hold the fabric with such ferocity the seams popping in her shirt is almost audible, but your blood is pumping too loudly in your ears for you to hear. “Tell me what you gave him!” You’re practically screaming now, directly in her face, yet Genevieve doesn’t seem phased at all. She was used to outbursts such as this, granted they were typically from a grieving mother or father, and not someone threatening her life, but none the less, it felt like just another day in the office.

“Not until we strike a deal!”

There’s only one thing running through your mind as your eyes lock onto Genevieve’s, the training fight you had had with Three all those months ago. Only this time, there was no one fighting back, you had the power. Your leg steps behind Genevieve’s left, and you sweep out with your entire weight, releasing her collar just as her knees gives way and buckle beneath her weight, and she crumbles to the ground bellow you, her back smacking the hard tiled floor with a crack. Instantly, you’re on top of her, kneeling down against her stomach and pinning her to the ground.

“You bitch!” She shrieks, coughing as she attempts to regain the breath you had knocked out of her, though with almost your entire weight leaning into her now, it was unlikely she would.

“I’m terribly sorry. I guess I lost my footing.” You smirk, pressing your knee harder against her. Causing Genevieve to cry out in pain.

Gregory races forwards, his scalpel dropping to the ground in his haste. “Get off of her!” He calls, wrapping her palms over your shoulders and attempting to tear you away.

Three steps in, shoulder barging him in the stomach and sending the Doctor crashing to the ground beside his wife.

“Guys! I think Four’s having a severe allergic reaction to whatever concoction he was pumped full of!” Five yells, a stethoscope looped around her neck, as her frantic eyes meet yours. “Is he allergic to anything you know of?”

You stare back at Five, your mind going completely blank, you feel like a deer caught in headlights. Surely Four would’ve told you if he had any allergies, right? And perhaps he had done just that, but standing here now, with all hope resting on your shoulders, you couldn’t think of a single thing which may be useful in this situation. Shaking your head, a growing sense of dread filling you, as the rest of the team remain silent. “I- I don’t know….”

“I can give him an Epipen, but I need to know what he’s either had, or what he’s allergic to so I can get him the proper antidote!”

Tearing your eyes away from Five, you look over to One, who not only felt but looked entirely useless, chained to a handrail on the opposite side of the room. Your eyes searching his for an answer. Your mission was to capture the Lushnick’s, and right now, that was exactly what you had done. But if you kept them as they were now, as prisoners, Four could die….. Was that a sacrifice you were willing to make?

All One could offer was a gentle half smile, shrugging his shoulders slightly in his compromising position. He couldn’t offer you an answer, hell you couldn’t even offer yourself an answer….

Carefully, you release some of the pressure from Genevieve’s stomach, just enough for her to look up at you in surprise, blinking wide eyes up at you. “Tell me what you gave him, and we’ll let you both go.” You mutter, fighting back the urge to swallow back your own words.

A wicked smirk unravels over Genevieve’s lips. The kind of smirk which one would associate with a wicked stepmother, or evil queen from a Disney film. “Deal.” You release more pressure from your hold on her, until she can breathe properly once more, and Three steps away from Gregory, giving the man a swift boot to the hip just to make his point. “We gave him a combination of penicillin, general anaesthetic, codeine…” Genevieve stands, as does Gregory, both stepping backwards towards the door. Your team moving out of their way upon looking at you for clarification. No one wanted to move, that much was obvious in the frantic looks the others were throwing your way. But at the same time, they all knew the price they would have to pay if they kept the Lushnick’s as they were now. A price no one was prepared for.

“There was some paracetamol mixed in too….” Genevieve continues. They were at the doorway now, hand in hand, gazing behind themselves to make sure the way was clear. “Hm, what else?”

“Gosh, I just can’t recall.” Gregory shrugs, an evil smirk crawling its way over his lips. His eyes glowing with malice. “I simply have no idea what ese they’re may have been!” He calls with enthusiasm, before both pivot on the spot, racing from the theatre.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” You shriek, your sight going red as you sprint after them down the corridor, pulling your gun out as you give chase. Genevieve looks at you over her shoulder as they reach the stairwell, regarding you with a look of familiarity.

“Eight! Eight, it’s not worth it!” Two yells from the doorway, watching you with a deep concern. She knew what you were capable of, your whole team did, but not the Lushnick’s. And from the looks of things, they didn’t care either. You stop halfway down the corridor, releasing the safety on your pistol and firing three shots at the door Gregory hand his hand pressed against. He jumps backwards in shock, glaring back at you, pure fury masking his features.

“Yes Eight, listen to your friend. She seems to be the brains of this group. We wouldn’t want you getting hurt now would we?” Genevieve snarls, baring too many teeth to be considered even remotely friendly.

Aiming the pistol once more, you line up your sights, finger hovering over the trigger. One shot, that’s all it would take. A bullet to the middle of Genevieve’s forehead would kill her instantly, and Gregory would have no choice but to surrender. “Are you going to kill me? Shall I say hello to Kellie when I see her?”

You stare at Genevieve, her words ringing through your ears, and sending a jolt of shockwaves straight down your spine. In that moment of hesitation, the Lushnick’s push through the stairwell door, and flee.

You’re paralysed on the spot, staring after where the Lushnick’s had stood moments ago. They recognised you. They knew who you were and why you wanted revenge. But how? It had been years since you last saw them, you had been a child! Surely you looked different now from back then? But they knew you! They remembered Kellie… A gun shot rings down the corridor, the sound of metal clanging to the tiled floor following directly after.

“Eight! What happened?” One yells, now free of his handcuffs, and jogging down the corridor to meet you. You hadn’t moved. Still stood with your arms raised, and gun pointed to where Genevieve had stood.

“They – They knew me.” You gulp, putting the pistol away with shaking hands, and turning to look up at One. Tears were brimming in your eyes, though you refused to let them fall. At least not yet.

“What? But how?”

“I don’t know! That’s the fucking problem.” You hiss, storming away from One back towards the theatre. Once back, chaos surrounded Four, with everyone racing around him handing various different equipment and medications to Five, as she prepped some kind of antidote perhaps. “How’s he doing?”

Five looks up at you, regarding you with a careful mix of sympathy and hope. “The EpiPen gave him enough adrenaline to wake up again, though he’s extraordinarily groggy. Now I’m just tyring to figure out exactly what to give him to counteract the other shit that’s pumping through him.”

You nod your head in thanks, knowing you would find the time to thank Five properly once all of this was over. “What can I do to help?”

“We need to try and keep him awake, he keeps coming in and out of consciousness.” Three replies, as he passes Five a vile of clear liquid.

“Four? Can you hear me?” You ask carefully, stepping over to him and squeezing his hand tightly. His warm fingers curl around yours in reply, before falling limp against your palm.

“He’s out again! Wake him up!” Five yells to those in the room.

“Four, stay with us!” You plead, pressing a soft kiss against his knuckles. To hell with anyone seeing the act of intimacy, if One wanted to give you shit for it, he could do so when you were all in the clear. Though checking the room, you can’t find One or Two for that matter, they must still be in the corridor where you had left them?

Slowly, Four blinked his eyes open, frantic emerald flickering around the room and searching for something, or someone. Just as his eyes landed on yours, they fell shut again, and his body spasmed once more.

“Four, god dammit! Keep your fucking eyes open!” It was Seven yelling this time, his voice booming above all other noises in the vast room.

“Four, please just stay with us a little longer! Five, how are you going with those injections?” You can hear the tears in your voice as you beg for him to open his eyes again, but they remain closed. Turning to look at Five, she looks frazzled. Her hair which had started in a neat, slicked back bun, was now hanging loose down her back, and was wild with frizz. She looks up at you, not quite in a glare, but with enough ferocity behind the look that you know better than to bother her anymore.

Leaning down, you card your fingers through Four’s blonde curls, brushing away a few stray locks which were plastered to his forehead with sweat. Barely more than a slit, his eyes open and stare directly up at you. “Billy, please just keep your eyes open for me. You’re going to be fine, I swear.”

Three looks over at you, his ears perking up at the use of his teammates real name. It was one thing to use names in privacy back home. But during a mission, however failed that mission may be, now that was new. Shaking his head, he spots One and Two heading over, but with grim looks on their faces. “What’s the plan?” Two asks, her eyes locking with Three’s.

“There isn’t one, not really. We just need to keep him awake.” Five sighs. “I think I know what to give him to help, but I want him awake when I administer it. If it works correctly then it should knock him out for a bit. If he’s already unconscious when I give it to him, then I won’t know if it’s doing more harm than good.”

One turns his attention over to you now, lifting one brow as you meet his gaze. “Any idea what will keep him awake?”

You pause, clutching Four’s hand tightly, and staring blankly at One. “Trivia. He loves random trivia facts!” You blurt out after a beat of pause. All eyes turn to you in surprise, no one quite knowing how to respond to this information. You shrug lightly, averting your gaze from One’s. “We play a lot of trivial pursuit back at base.”

Seven is the first to break the silence, though not to mock you as you had thought would be the case. Instead, he looks down at Four. “Hey mate, did you know high heels were originally invented for men. Imagine Three chasing down the Lushnick’s in stilettos.” He laughs, which causes Four to stir slightly, his eyes opening just a tad.

“Fuck, you’re right. That did work.” One blinks in surprise, running a hand through his short hair.

“Of course it did. I know Four, I know what works on him.” You mutter quietly.

Without looking up, Five smirks to herself. “You sure do kid.”

There’s no fighting the embarrassment which claws within you. Perhaps now wasn’t the time to be making suggestive comments… “Alright, keep ‘em coming guys!”

“Um okay…. Uh, Canada has more lakes than anywhere in the world.” Seven offers unsurely.

“Those greedy fucks….” Four moans, causing everyone to pause, before laughing quietly. Good, his sense of humour was still intact, that’s surely a good sign!

Two steps closer, and looks down at Four in deep concentration, before leaning back slightly. “David Bowie, he did not in fact have two different coloured eyes. One of his pupils was permanently dilated after he was punched in the eye during an argument over a girl.”

“Bugger me, really?” Five pipes up, both brows raised in surprise. “I always thought he had one blue and one brown eye.” She shrugs, priming a syringe carefully.

Slowly, Four was waking up. Granted he wasn’t exactly moving very much, but his eyes were opening, and he was grinning somewhat at the facts that were being thrown at him.

Staring down at Billy, something pops into your mind, a fact which you had learnt years ago at school but never shared with anyone else. “Okay, here’s one for you. Madonna’s like a prayer, is actually not about praying, it’s about giving someone a blowjob!”

Silence follows, and you swear you could hear crickets chirping. “Why the fuck is that something you know?” Four groans quietly, his eyes searching all over your face, before finally meeting your own.

“Shit, I don’t know… I also didn’t think that would be the fact that would wake you up the most! I was hoping someone else would say something after me!” You grumble through a grin.

“Nothing could possibly beat that fact.” Four chuckles weakly, squeezing your hand as tightly as he could muster.

Five turns around, holding a full syringe in her right hand, and a sterile swab in the other. “Glad you’re awake. What I’m about to give you however, is going to send you right back to sleep. Sorry about that. But I assure you, next time you wake up, you’re going to feel amazing.” She grins, ripping open the swab, and swiping it over the inside of his elbow.

For the second time that day, Four winces in pain as a needle plunges through his skin. Squeezing his eyes shut against both the sight of the injection, and the stinging pain. Whatever Five had given him was fast acting, and soon enough Four finds it nearly impossible to reopen his eyes now that he’s closed them.

“Move him into the wheelchair there, it’ll be easier than carrying him out of here.” You suggest, pointing to the blue cushioned wheelchair in the corner of the room.

One, Three and Seven all nod their agreement, and move around the operating table, getting into position to lift Four. “Count of three…. One, two, three.” Three instructs, as the men lift Four who simply groans in protest. You watch his limp body be carried across the room, your heart aching at the sight. ‘It could be worse… He’s just asleep.’ You repeat to yourself, once again fighting back the tears which had remained ever present at the corners of your eyes.

Three pushes the wheelchair as you all follow in a daze. Your mind felt as if it were a million miles away from the current situation. For the briefest of moments, you had genuinely considered murdering Genevieve. Never once had you thought yourself capable of doing such a thing. But yet, there you had been. Gun poised, and trigger finger rearing to go. If it hadn’t of been for her words, then she would be dead…

The escape route was an easy one, especially with security still trying to figure out what had gone wrong on the geriatrics ward still. Swiping the keys to an ambulance at the docking bay, you load Four inside the back with Five to monitor him. One drives, Three and Two sitting beside him up the front. While you and Seven sit quietly in the back. Occasionally your focus returns to Four, but mostly you stare out of the back windows, watching as traffic zips around you. You nearly killed someone today… What sort of a person were you becoming? And did you even like the person you were turning into?

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takirasu · 4 years

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Why I cannot understand how a huge majority of the Persona 5 fandom ships Akira/Protagonist with Akechi if you’ve played the game and what is possibly wrong about it

First and foremost: I do not mean to offend or hurt anyone personally with this. This is purely analytical from the viewpoint of someone who is interested in analysing characters and character dynamics. The group of people mentioned that I dislike regarding this ship is targeted to certain types of people in the fandom that will be explained at the end, meaning if you ship this No, I don’t automatically dislike you and even if I would, who cares? It’s just me. I don’t know you and it shouldn’t matter to you. I also want to mention that obviously Persona 5 will get spoiled in this analysis as well as slight mentions and spoilers of Royal, especially the third semester. Read at your own risk! Without further ado, let’s jump into a very interesting dynamic between two characters that had potential, but – in my opinion – leaves a bitter aftertaste in my mouth due to what fans did and do with it most of the time and how Atlus ends it in both Orginal and Royal. I will try to be about this as neutral as possible, since an analysis shouldn’t take a side and then put my opinion about it at the end, because the aspects and whys about this matter more than one person’s opinion alone. Also, the analysis will help form an opinion and back it up. There is nothing worse to me than giving an opinion, but not having anything to back it up with.

To analyse the relationship between the two I will be taking important parts of the story in this dynamic and analyse it as well as analyse the characters briefly according to the situation and towards each other. I will be taking the Anime and Manga into this for certain parts as well. I would like to do a whole character analysis one day if I find the time and fans are interested, but since the main focus of this is a ship and what is up with it I will only analyse the moments that they either have together or that further underlines the topic.

Starting with Akira, it is clear from the very first hour on that he has a strong want of helping other people – in need or not - and cannot stand injustice. To underline how important it is to him you have to understand that in Japan’s society it is considered incredibly rude to interfere between two adults in whatever situation given. It is not your business, like Sojiro Sakura – his guardian in Tokyo during his probation – explains to him and much more the player at the beginning of the game. In short, Akira knew what he might possibly get himself into. Even if Shido wouldn’t have tripped and hurt himself. Even if Shido wouldn’t have threatened the women to tell the upcoming police Akira apparently assaulted him. The only thing important to those who found out about the incident and know that he did not push him was still this: You do not interfere between two adults, keep your business. People who do that are considered delinquents and you really do not want this stamp on your forehead in Japan. Further, I assume Akira might be suffering from a Saviour complex. In all three media – game, manga and anime – he puts other people’s needs over himself and gets incredibly upset if he is not able to help someone or better, in Akechi’s case, save them. As helpful and kind a someone can be by nature, you have to understand that not everyone will either want your help or will be able to accept it. Not everyone can be saved and you do not have to save everyone. People who have trouble with accepting this suffer from a Saviour complex. A moment to justify both this and my first point is during the beginning of Madarame’s Palace, with one of my favourite quotes of Akira being,

“I want to help. I just want to be sure what we're doing is right. Trust me I'm not saying we should turn a blind eye and do nothing...”

After this event, Ann and Ryuji call him out for being both too timid and yet in haste at the same time. They’re barely out of the Metaverse and obviously have a private life that they need to care about when he already wants everyone to gather information on if Yusuke is really being abused and used by his teacher as fast as possible; on the same day. Again, he puts others over himself. While of course Ryuji and Ann aren’t any less concerned, to him someone might be getting hurt and there is no time to waste on matters like this. When they do find out through Nakanohara, a former student of Madarame, that he steals his pupil’s art, threatens everyone that leaves him and makes students even hurt themselves, Akira as the Phantom Thieves leader decide on saving Yusuke. Said complex also feeds his need of wanting to protect others, shown and explored more in two major scenes in the anime. When Phantom Thieves meet Akechi for their finale encounter they captured it very well. Akechi reveals he has the power of the Wild card, being able to handle more than one Persona, like Akira does. When the Thieves try to either talk to Akechi or attempt to walk up to him and handle it, Akira as Joker takes his role seriously. He tells the others, “He’s mine. Hold. Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” knowing full well that nobody else would be able to take him on other than another Wild card. Another scene is when he protects Sojiro from a few police men. He knows he shouldn’t step in between two adults and he is still on probation, but the want of protecting the person that offers him shelter and that warms up to him is stronger than his own desires. He stands in front of Sojiro and shields him.

Akechi on the other hand is one of the most interesting and misunderstood characters I have seen in a long time. While not outright admitting it himself, Akechi has this immense and unfulfilled need of being loved since his past was pretty much empty of it. His resentment towards Akira is fuelled by this since he sees how said one has a lot of supportive friends when he’s nothing special in particular. This possibly means that in Akechi’s eyes you have to have a certain standard to achieve to be special and lovable, which would explain the way he made himself for the public. He further insults Akira as a criminal who lives in an attic during their last meeting and asks himself what he has that Akechi lacks, not knowing that it is something he never grew up learning. He hates Akira, but deep down he does not. It pains him to see the exact opposite of himself and how out of place it is for him. Akira is nothing yet loved, while Akechi build up this perfect self that is special, but not actually loved. It messes with him whenever Akira is in front of him and does better than him. He is the reason he gets reminded of the things he hates the most about himself. Similar to Akira he is an outcast to society – just carefully sealed and hidden behind his Ace detective mask. Shido, who is actually his father and he only works with to get revenge on, did not care that he got someone pregnant and left, which lead to Akechi’s mother giving him away and committing suicide. In Japan these kind of families are frowned upon on, being the kid of a possible one-night stand gives no meaning to your life and only tarnishes the mother, which is most probably the reason why the women took her life. It wasn’t bearable for her in this society and she couldn’t life with Akechi’s existence. He was given from foster home to foster home, never had any parents that would give him love and that he could look up to as well as forming actual bonds with people. You see him both struggling to form an actual friendship with Sae, an adult, as well as adapt to people his age, for example the Phantom Thieves. He feels odd and has this unpleasant aura of superiority around him, since he has never learned anything regarding love and how to work and be with other people. So Akechi decides he needs to build his mask to be lovable to the public since his actual self, in his eyes, is not. He’s smart and basically reforms himself completely new for the public. His public self is near to perfect for the role of a student detective. Justice driven, charming, funny and smart. During the game while he is on stage it slips his thoughts during the moment everyone cheers for him and adores him, that none of these people know he’s an unwanted bastard child, which means that he does not think as highly of himself as the player tends to think at the beginning of the game. He is sure nobody would like him and he would never be able to become a detective if it was him as his true self that is worthy of nothing. These two things lead to him being able to be cold-blooded and cause the mental shutdowns, as well as try to kill Akira. First, he has never gotten love and affection. These things are needed for a child to grow and learn empathy, which Akechi lacks. It might almost sound mean, but from a neutral viewpoint this is why it was so easy for him. He does not feel for other people as openly as others do. Also, you have to keep in mind that every shutdown being demanded by Shido would eventually bring him closer to his goal. His father to acknowledged his existence in the perfect moment, the apex of his power, and to take revenge on him for the life he has to live and most possibly for his mother to be driven to suicide. Lastly important for this analysis, Akechi knew what he did when he decided to let himself get killed by his cognitive self, Shido’s so-called security system. First, it would have either been him and the Phantom Thieves who were the only ones able to use the Metaverse next to him and change Shido’s heart, or only him which means that there was a possibility to at least ruin his life and not make him the new Prime minister of Japan. He knows that they won’t kill Shido, but taking everything from him that is important to him, his only desire, and the reason Akechi had to live life like this to begin with seems enough in the moment he faces death. Second, he does not believe in second chances and he does not believe in forgiveness. Akechi’s believes that are present during the whole game aren’t just towards others, but also himself. He hates his true self the same way he dislikes Akira. Both his true self and Akira are nothing in society therefore neither worthy of love or forgiveness. To him, there is no other way to atone for his sins. When the Phantom Thieves defeat Akechi he states,

“You (Akira) are so lucky to be surrounded by teammates who acknowledge you. Once Shido confesses his crimes, you’ll all be heroes. As for me, people will find out my past deductions were just charade. My fame and trust will vanish. In the end, I couldn’t be special…”

The only place he could eventually feel loved was when he faked those crimes and fake investigated them, since they were his own the public didn’t know about. He could feel important and respected, have a place in Japan’s society while working on his goal of his father’s downfall. The moment the Phantom Thieves won over him, he knew this would be taken away from him since to him the only possible outcome of this is the Phantom Thieves winning over Shido and either turning Akechi in or Shido spilling during his change of heart. People relying on him and trusting him, people acknowledging him. That is what the trust and fame was about to him. The moment they meet in Shido’s palace and Akechi is defeated, it would all be taken away from him. Putting this together is the reason he decides to trap himself with the summoned shadows and his cognitive self. His father would lose everything that was important to him if he saves the Phantom Thieves and he has no reason to live in a world where he has no fame and trust from the public, since in his distorted mind he will not be worth of love and worth of existence. He wouldn’t be special. When the Phantom Thieves do reach out and tell him all the things they admire about him and give him a chance to join them against Shido, he laughs about them. His true self is out and to him, it is not lovable or special no matter what they say.

From the reasons shippers bring up for these two, Akira being devastated about Akechi’s death and wanting it revoked is a big one and the first one I want to analyse and explain. As analysed earlier, it is important to Akira to save others and help them, especially when they cannot help themselves. In certain parts, the two aren’t far from each other yet polar opposites. Akira knows that and despite everything feels empathy for Akechi after said ones tells the whole story. Witnessing someone’s death whether it is hearing or seeing it is traumatizing and it’s normal to think about it later back at home in the real world how Akira does, but taking his character analysis into consideration it probably messed with him more than it would with other people, like the other Phantom Thieves. In the anime, Akechi throws a chess piece with Akira catching it. Akira, who is not someone to have emotional outbursts, gets so worked up and angry that he hits the wall that came down in front of them with his fist before he quickly catches himself back in the role as the leader who always had and has to stay calm and collected. If you look at it, Akechi is the only one Akira couldn’t save when he knew he needed it and, to Akira, deserved it. Because throughout the whole game with so many different cases of people not being able to save themselves or being in unjust situations not once does he care about how the people are or if there is any certain character trait etc. to them in particular. Akira probably shares the same belief like his friends. Everyone is special in their own way and so was Akechi deserving of a better life like everyone else is. It messes with him so much, that in Persona 5: Royal, a game that came out 3 years after the original game and it is still tightly being fought about if it is canon or an alternative reality to which the developers have yet to make an official statement to, he tells Maruki, the school’s therapist who is interested in cognitive science, that if he could change reality, his wish wouldn’t be that all of this had never happened, but that Akechi would still be alive. While this is the number one situation people who ship the two use ever since Royal has come out, it just further underlines Akira’s character and my suggestion of him having a Saviour complex. He cannot live with the fact that he couldn’t save Akechi, when this is what the Phantom Thieves stood for. It pains him so much that his wish is actually beneficial to someone else. We know nothing about Akira’s past, but it is impossible that there isn’t something he wishes wouldn’t have happened that is outside of the game. Instead, he chose something that helps someone else and puts himself back to ease. He knows, this is what pains him the most and will for quite some time. Having Akechi back would ease his complex and give a person he thinks that deserve a second chance another tries. This is once more better shown in the anime during the last confrontation when Akira tries to talk to Akechi multiple times during Akechi’s small monologue, but eventually realizes it will be of no use. Akechi is too far gone and Akira tells the group to finish it.

Second are the moments we got early in the anime. While the game doesn’t allow this, the anime explores Akechi’s detective side a bit earlier and more for the viewer. In game, we only see Akechi working on the cases he created while he is actually really good at “real” cases as well and able to solve them. During Yusuke’s arc, Akira and Akechi work together on a few of those and Akechi teaches him how not to be fooled by rotten adults. This all goes quite wholesome, but at that point the interrogation nor the black mask reveal had happened yet. The story is early and fresh, not even having picked up the pace. It almost feels like Akechi either tried learning how Akira’s mind works, or honestly just wanted to spend time with someone he felt like was similar to him. All of this gets revoked though when he massively insults him at the end of the game, making it hard to put this in canon. It might be that Akechi was trying to give himself a chance, because Akira was probably the first person who could handle Akechi just like how he is and also accepted him just like that - since that is what Akira does with everyone throughout the game and also gets complimented and aknowleged for - but instead Akechi couldn’t stop himself and pulled through with the rest of his plans. Looking at it from another side, taking this from the anime into consideration makes the next thing and points even worse.

Last is the interrogation, probably one of the most well-known scenes in the whole game, that I want to analyse further. To begin with, Akira finds himself getting arrested due to Akechi’s betrayal. While it is not exactly explained how, it is obvious that Akechi lead the police in since only Metaverse app users can enter the Metaverse. If you have a non-user nearby, you can pull them into it. Akechi probably did this beforehand, told them to hide and gave them either a time limit or symbol. After the fight against Sae Futaba picks up enemy readings, so many that they’re being surrounded. Akira and the Phantom Thieves part ways and the leader makes all the attention go to himself so that the others can escape. In the end he gets ambushed, cuffed up and knocked out by drugs. What the player does not know is that the group had known about Akechi’s plan all along and they had to play along. All throughout Sae’s palace, Akira knew he would most probably be cuffed up by the end, but it was necessary to let it happen. Otherwise they would never be able to defeat Akechi. I would like to add that this in particular sounds pretty traumatizing and stressful as well. Moving forward and the Phantom Thieves’ plan succeeding, Akechi is unknowingly being dragged into the Metaverse. He outright plans to kill Akira, which reveals his true motive on why he worked with them on Sae’s palace in the first place. The Phantom Thieves are blocking his path of the mental shutdowns and destroying his father. It is so soon that he cannot lose due to them. He is smart about it and wants to kill their leader. Once again and as stated earlier, Akechi doesn’t feel empathy and he has killed before. He gets things done so that they are beneficial to what he needs to do further, just like how it was beneficial for him to work with the Thieves together for at least a while. Be that figuring out how they work, or just messing with them. What he doesn’t know is the person in the interrogation room is the cognitive version of Akira. He is only in there, because he just entered Sae’s palace and in her cognition Akira is in the interrogation room, which she does not have much control of. Therefore, it keeps being the interrogation room instead of anything Casino related. Akechi proceeds to shoot an innocent guard and then Akira. While doing so, he seems like on a high, fully enjoying it getting rid of him and it is almost uncomfortable to watch that is how good it is made. It is Akechi’s first time he kills someone in the real world, but it doesn’t seem to be much different for him. He shoots Akira right in the head when he has nowhere to go, tied up and completely drugged to a point that both in the game and anime he can’t talk properly and even passes out. The state Akira is in is portrayed very well and just underlines the atmosphere further. A murderer just aiming at their helpless victim. Akechi puts the gun in his hand to report it as a suicide and leaves. He never shows any remorse when they meet again, only throwing in that the two might possibly would have become friends if having met earlier. He does not mention the faked death, because there is nothing to say. It might be, because both know Akechi wanted to do it. It was necessary for his path and nobody, especially not someone like Akira, would be standing in his way. Shippers defend this situation, saying Akechi had to kill Akira. To some extent, I would analysis this as true and say that it was a possibly way of getting rid of the Phantom Thieves and continuing his plan, but is your first idea really murder to this? In such a special way? Concealing it as a suicide and not have any respect to the person you just killed? It is unlikely as smart as Akechi is that this was the only possible option he had regarding on how he would get rid of the Phantom Thieves or their leader. Killing the person is just probably the most convenient one to Akechi and again, he does not feel for others properly, since he has never learned how to. This is why he is able to plan this, kill someone he acted like a friend with, saw multiple times for weeks and just walk away. In conclusion that means it is not because he had to and also not because he wanted to in particular, but because Akechi did not care and therefore made it possible to just shot him and continue with his life. It is one of the most important scenes in the whole game and does a lot to the development for all three characters involved (Sae, Akechi and Akira) yet shippers throw it under a bus with the sole statement that he had to.

Putting everything above together, the major moments these two had, shipping Akira and Akechi is complicated and probably not the best.

To finally conclude my opinion to this. In another world, Akechi could learn a lot from Akira. He has a lot of empathy for others and wants to help, which Akechi lacks. It would have been good for him and the part where Akechi mentioned that they might have become friends if met earlier made me emotional as someone who does not support it in a romantic way. In this moment, I thought of them as friends. I thought myself thinking of what would have been if they had met one or two years earlier. Two people who get better through each other and learn from each other. As much as I love this character trait from Akira, I have had my personal fair shares that having this can be negative at times. It would be good for him to have someone that shows him the opposite or at least a middle path. Both characters go All-Out on this. It is either full on empathy or complete lack of empathy. Either you want to save everyone or you’re okay with killing whoever as long as you obtain your ultimate goals.

Many people have stated already that the ship is quite abusive. Anything that comes out of Akechi’s mouth towards Akira in both game and anime (I’m only referencing the anime since the last two times because the manga is barely at Futaba’s arc yet) after revealing his true motives, is negative. Either he insults him directly or the way he lives, just because he found someone that reminds him of himself deep inside if he wants to or not. That gives him no right to act like this, even when psychology is complex. And if you want to defend this, it gives him no right to shoot him and actually visibly enjoy it – which you cannot deny and a lot of people in the fandom stated as well. He didn’t have to, but he did. He wasn’t forced to, but he did it. I wonder if Akechi tells Akira he hates him for the fact that he did make him feel something. Not in a romantic way, again, but more in a way of empathy and this feeling of friendship and he knew he had to stop this.

There are a lot of good people in the fandom fan of his complex character. I don’t necessary like Akechi as a character, but I find him interesting and good to talk about. As for liking or hating him…the interrogation scene happened the way it happened let’s just leave it at that. Sadly, there are also a lot of people in the fandom who will shove this ship down your throat. Somehow, it is superior to them and it should be canon. I have seen so many tweets and Tumblr posts, especially with Royal and its’ third semester that genuinely leave me concerned. What started as 3AM ramble to my friend ended up being this 5000 words essay on why the situations and character traits stated above get taken out of context or misunderstood by shippers. It goes further when you find out that some people ship it because it is abusive to begin with. They acknowledge it and love it and while there are more important things in life than this, I just found it too concerning and also very annoying at one point, I had to make an analysis about it and clear some things up. I have blocked a lot of tags regarding this ship and I still see it every day in the fandom and get attacked if I say something against it, so I just made this post, knowing that people will eventually get mad at it. But, I honestly really enjoyed it. I really enjoyed writing about Akechi’s character. He is interesting, complex and there is so much to talk about him, but do I ship him with my favourite video game character? Hell nah.

If you want to add something to this, feel free to. I also enjoy respectful and normal discussion about this! I researched a lot for this, re-watched a few anime and game scenes and wrote for a total of 7 hours. If you enjoyed it or it made you think a little, it would be kind to let me know. I haven’t written anything in a while and my last character analysis was years ago, so this was quite a challenge, but knowing how popular this ship is and how much worse it got with Royal’s existence, I had to put this out. I’m going to be honest here. If they would’ve met a few years earlier, who knows if this wouldn’t have become one of my ships (I don’t interact in a lot of shipping to begin with so), because the basis of it is nice. But then the actual plot happens. All this stuff from the interrogation until the end happens and shippers just dismiss it or try to make it sound less bad. Like it’s the actual plot. It’s there. This is how P5 goes down. Akira’s one of the most traumatized characters I’ve come across in fiction and Akechi does a fair share to that. Don’t just dismiss that so your ship can be cute. It won’t, I’m sorry. And if you want to come at me for shipping in general, I as well ship something with complex and interesting dynamics within this game. It’s appealing, but not like this.

Thank you for reading this if you got through all of it! I seriously appreciate it and my non-existent sleep does to! - May

#persona 5 #p5 #persona #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #goro akechi #video game #analysis #persona 5 analysis

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swiftlymoniquesblog · 4 years

Text

You Hate Halloween- Sam Winchester Holiday

A/N: Hello friends! Well, the holidays are drawing nearer once again and although this year has been anything but normal, I don’t see why we still can’t imagine better circumstances!

I’m going to start a holiday masterlist, as we get closer to each holiday. Requests for this series is open and will have a separate masterlist, with stories featuring Sam, Dean, Castiel and Jack, as well as several other fandoms! Please send in any requests and I will be writing my own holiday themed stories, too!

Side note: I love this new photo of Jared that was released as he begins filming Walker! The hoodie inspired me to write this fic, so please, enjoy!

Summary: Sam surprises the reader with a pumpkin-themed date.

Warnings: Nothing but fluff!

Word Count: 2,497

Main Masterlist| Holiday Masterlist

Holidays for the Winchester brothers were just your average days, usually with a hunt or two and a just simple nod to whichever holiday happened to come up. To Sam and Dean, ever since they were children, their work came first, nothing more important than that. But everything changed the year you showed up. When the holidays began to draw closer, the boys couldn’t help take notice of how excited you got. To you, they were important days of celebration and a time to reflect on the year that just finished.

It was nearing the end of October and despite protesting from both brothers, you couldn’t help but spread out a few decorations around the Bunker. Jack had taken quite a curiosity to everything about the holidays from your obsessive discussion of celebration. It took a lot of persuasion on both yours and Jack’s part, but you convinced Dean to allow you to decorate. Pulling out box after box of lights, pumpkins, friendly ghosts, spiderwebs, and the occasional witches’ hat and black cat, you and Jack both got to work, with the added side grumble from Dean and the extra help from Cas. Once everything was set up and you took the time to enjoy your work as you head back to your room, you couldn’t help but wonder what happened with Sam. It was odd, he wasn’t around for any part of the decorating, nor was he around to join in on the grumbling.

“Hey, Dean, where is Sam? He hasn’t been around today?” You ask the eldest Winchester, who was grabbing a few beers from the fridge and handing one to you.

“Oh, Sammy? Um, he’s fine, I think. I’m not sure though, he said he had some things to work on; probably just researching like he always does,” said Dean as he shrugged and left the room.

Something wasn’t adding up to you here, Sam doesn’t just disappear without telling you first. You two were those kinds of friends; always told each other everything. You even made sure to tell each other where you would be so you could check up on the other if things went bad. All it took was one hunt gone bad and it was Sam’s idea to stay in touch with you all the time, for your safety.

You wandered around the Bunker, looking to find any clues as to where the youngest Winchester maybe, that is until you found your answer.

“Y/N, there you are, I’ve been looking for you,” Sam says, coming into your room after you decided to just leave him be and give up your search.

“Me? I’ve been looking for you! Where have you been?” You ask, ecstatic and worried in your voice.

“Oh, yeah, about that. I have a surprise for you,” he said, walking over to you in long strides, coming in front of you quickly.

“You have a surprise, for me?” You asked, looking at the much taller man before you.

“Yeah, come with me,” he said, taking your hand as he led you out to Baby. He opened your door, one of the many things he did that you adored before he joined you at the wheel. There was low music playing from the stereo as you felt him reach over and grab your hand, his thumb absentmindedly tracing patterns and leaving goosebumps on your skin. It was small moments like these, that made your heart race. Hand holding or an arm wrapped around you, even how he looked at you so lovingly, was all it took to make you feel as though you were his entire world. As your mind wandered on, Sam had to bring you back to reality, for you had arrived at the destination he had brought you. It was out in the middle of nowhere, nothing but flat land and rolling hills off in the distance. Tall pine trees lined just under the hills and there was what looked to be a farm, by the several cows that were grazing the land.

“Where are we, Sam?” You ask, looking to him who just kept a small smile on his face.

“You’ll see,” he says and guides you across a near-abandoned highway.

You two walked along the highway, following the grass and a wooden fence that was put up to aid in keeping the cows away from traffic. The walk was a bit longer than you cared for, but soon, more life drew in your line of vision, meaning there were other people around you. Drawing closer, you noticed that Sam had taken you to a pumpkin patch. A sign that read Thompson’s Pumpkin Patch was arched across a dirt path, lined with plenty of pumpkins and corn stalks. Dozens of families with children were running about, enjoying all the festivities on the property. Face painting, pumpkin picking, hayrides, bobbing for apples, small fair rides, live music, and plenty of food. Standing in line for tickets into the patch, you looked to Sam.

“Why are we here? You hate Halloween,” You comment.

“I know but you don’t so I thought to make this year special for you. You’ve been working so hard lately and I know how much the holidays mean to you, so I wanted to plan something,” He admitted, sheepishly looking down at his feet.

That alone made your heart flutter in your chest. Never had anyone done so much for you as Sam had done for you today. He normally hated Halloween, especially the scary parts of it, considering he faced those monsters regularly, but when you came to live with him and Dean, he began seeing things differently. You showed him a happier, lighter side of everything and he loved you for it.

“I can’t believe you planned all this for me. Thank you, Sam,” you say, leaning over into his side to hug him, his hand gripping your arm affectionately.

“Anything for you, y/n,” he smiled down at you, just enough for one dimple to pop out on his cheek.

You drew closer to the ticket booth, Sam paying for you both, as your excitement grew stronger.

“So, what first?” Sam asked you, and you knew where you wanted to start.

“Let’s get a pumpkin!” You exclaim, taking Sam’s hand and rushing off to the pumpkin growing in the ground. Sam chuckled as you beamed, looking through the vines of the squashes below you, picking up different ones and examining them.

“What about this one?” You say, pointing to what seemed to be the perfect pumpkin. It wasn’t perfectly round, nor was the stem on the top perfectly straight. But it was beautifully orange and big enough for a great big face to carve into later on.

“I like it,” says Sam, as he goes to pick it up, making sure to separate the vine from the stem.

“I’ll go pay for it and put it in the car, while you go get us some hot drinks,” he says, placing a small kiss on your cheek.

Again, that small act of affection meant a lot to you, knowing that that was Sam’s way of showing he truly cared. He wasn’t one for big romantic gestures yet he made sure everyone knew you were taken. As you watch him leave, you smiled to yourself at how lucky you were to have him. Zig zagging through kids running about, you found a stand that was selling hot drinks.

“Hi, what can I get you?” A middle-aged woman asked with a smile on her face.

“Hi, I’ll take a hot apple cider and a pumpkin spice coffee, lots of cream and sugar.

“Sure, thing sweetie. That’ll be seven dollars,” she said, waiting for your payment as she called your order out to the staff behind her.

You stood off to the side, waiting for your drinks before something surprised you. Jumping and letting out a small squeal, you noticed it was only Sam, who had wrapped his arms around you from behind.

“Geez Sam, don’t scare me like that!” You scold him as he just laughs at your reaction. He turns you back around, rocking you in his arms as he spoke to you.

“I’m sorry baby, but you looked cold standing there so I figured I would just, wrap you up and your reaction was, adorable,” he says in your ear.

“Ugh, you’re lucky I adore you,” you say, annoyance still evident in your voice, but only slightly.

“I am very lucky to have you,” he says just as your order was ready.

“Is that man your boyfriend?” The same lady who took your order asked.

Your cheeks burned bright red at the title of boyfriend but you smiled anyway. “Yes, he is.”

“Well he seems to be crazy about you; hold on to that one,” the drinks were placed in your hands as the woman winked at you before you bid her a farewell.

Handing Sam his cider, he appreciated the hot, bitter liquid as he placed the cup to his lips. You watched as he drank, silently just observing him. Sam was nothing short of attractive and he looked more so like it than ever, you thought. He was dressed in dark washed jeans and what you guessed was a plaid shirt underneath his hoodie. His long fingers stretched around the cup in both hands, as he mimicked a child who had to hold their cup with both hands. For the first time in probably ever, you noticed that his hair was a bit shorter than the normal length of near his shoulders, and he appeared he hadn’t shaved in a while; a full-on beard now warming his face.

“Like what you see, darlin’?” Sam commented, drawing you out of your daydream. His voice lower and with more of a Southern drawl than you were used to hearing.

A blush reddened your cheeks again, as you kept your eyes away from the prodding Winchester.

“Come on, let’s go bob for apples,” Sam suggested, offering up his hand to you once more.

As the day began to wind down, the night air began to grow increasingly cold. Throughout the day, you somehow convinced Sam to do everything with you. From getting his face painted with a little animated pumpkin on his cheek, that you had chosen, to trying all varieties of food that he normally wouldn’t have eaten. He hid from you in the maze, surprising you yet again when you drew too close to his hiding place, and he rode all the rides you had wanted to. There was one final thing you wanted to do before your day had ended.

“Sam, let’s do that,” you say, pointing to a tractor that had an opened trailer in the back, lined with two rows of hays for guests to sit on and fairy light stringed around the trailer and tractor.

He nodded and followed you to the trailer bed, helping you climb up and finding a hay bale to sit on. You two sat next to one another before Sam noted you shivering.

“Are you cold, babe?” He asked the obvious.

“No, no, I-I’m g-good,” you lie in between shivers.

“No, you’re not, you’re freezing. Here,” he says, taking his hoodie off and exposing a small little part of his tummy in the process. Pushing that thought out of your head, you gladly accept his hoodie and place it over your head. Instantly, you are embraced with warmth and the smell of Sam; beer, and whichever cologne he chose for the day. You hummed contently as Sam offered his arm for you to cuddle in.

“But won't you be cold, now?” You asked Sam.

He chuckled as he grabbed the bottom of his plaid shirt, just like you thought he was wearing, and rolled it up, showing the layers that were underneath.

“I wore layers, knowing it was going to get rather cold tonight. I also brought this,” Sam said, reaching into the backpack you didn’t realize he had, and bringing out a blanket.

“You really thought of everything, didn’t you?” You ask, admiring how much work Sam really put into your day.

“Like I said, only the best for my girl,” he says, as the tractor ride began to pull happy families around the patch. Sam’s hand found yours under the blanket, keeping you close to him. As you looked around at the lit-up patch, a beautiful look on your face, as the lights reflected off your wonderment on your face. When your gaze fell onto Sam, you saw how he was looking at you and your heart began to race as he slowly leaned closer to you. His eyes darted between yours and your lips, waiting to see if you would pull away. As you moved closer to him, he finally closed the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting his in a sweet kiss. It was the first kiss you shared, and it was sweeter than any pie Dean would have at home. His lips moved with yours and his hands held your cheeks, keeping you from breaking away too soon. It felt like one of those chick-flick moment kisses Dean always scoffed at, but to you and Sam, they meant something to you. When he finally pulled away, his forehead pressed against yours.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that,” he admits, kissing your lips again quickly.

“I kind of have an idea,” you admit, smiling to Sam, who brought you back to his side.

When the hayride came back to where it started, you and Sam walked back to the Impala, along with all your goodies collected from the day. It was the perfect holiday date you always envisioned having with a boyfriend; Sam must’ve heard you talking about it. Back at the Bunker, Dean noticed you and Sam walking closer to one another, hands intertwined, and he knew you two had finally gotten together. Months of back and forth and denying of feelings drove anyone around you and Sam crazy, that was until Dean pushed Sam into taking you on a date. It was all his idea for Sam to take you on a pumpkin patch date. You made sure you’d thank him for that later, but it was time for you and Sam to spend some special time together. It was late and because you didn’t want to be away from him, Sam decided to sleep with you. Not sex, but actual sleep. Changing into your pajamas, you met Sam in your room, and you both crawled in bed, his arms immediately embracing you.

“Happy Halloween, y/n,” Sam said, as he kissed your head.

“Happy Halloween, Sam,” you snuggled into him.

“I love you,” he said before he drifted off to sleep, a cliff hanger of sorts left floating around your head. You guessed you would have to wait to tell him you loved him too.

Tag list: @fandom-princess-forevermore @tloveswriting @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams @thinkinghardhardlythinking @to-my-beloved-fandoms-2 @angeredcrow @spnjediavenger @deansmyapplepie @akshi8278 @thwiso @marvelfansworld @grace15ella

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illfoandillfie · 3 years

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ok sorry but how many people do yall think rog has ever slept with cos i’m guessing four figures no lie

okay, i don’t normally respond to messages like this because, frankly, i dont really feel like its my place to speculate on roger’s sex life. Theres a difference between writing a fiction story with a character named after and inspired by him and discussing his actual personal life which i have no real knowledge about. What he gets up to in his free time is between him and the women he does it with. but i didn’t really feel able to ignore this one. please don’t take this as me telling you off or shutting you down or anything like that. If you want to speculate about roger’s body count thats up to you, go nuts with it. and i love when you guys message me and I don’t want to discourage you from feeling like you can talk to me or just send me your random thoughts or whatever about any subject. But I feel like I need to address why I disagree with this sentiment. Also so I can ask ya’ll to please stop asking me questions like this.

So firstly, just to get this out of the way. 1000 is a lot. even 100 is a lot. I think if rog had slept with 1000+ people he’d have a least a few illegitimate kids and probably would have been checked into rehab for sex addiction (not to mention STIs and such because lbr people in the 70s specifically probs werent the most careful especially if drugs were involved). I mean even if we were going to say Rog got lucky with a different woman after every show we wouldn’t reach 1000. According to google, Queen played around 700 shows in their entire career. If we add shows played by The Cross thats only another 67 odd shows (according to wikipedia).

now, i think there are 3 things that contribute to this idea of roger as especially promiscuous. 1. His attitude/demeanour/general way he sells himself. 2. the generally held conceptions about rock stars and rock star behaviour. and 3. what i’m going to call fandom dumbassery (but i mean that with a lot of love)

So lets start with the man himself. Roger Taylor is loud and opinionated and not particularly humble. He knows he’s talented and attractive though for at least some time he was a little self-conscious about how feminine he looked. He’s always up for a laugh, likes to party and has admitted to enjoying his drink and his women. He’s had kids with two different women, who’s relationships “overlapped”, and is currently married to a third. At least that’s the perception we can gleam from his interviews, behind the scenes videos, and other public appearances.

It’s easy to see how that image leads to accusations of being a womaniser and a cheater and basically a bit of a slut lmao. But here’s the thing. I think Roger, in part, markets himself that way. The thing is, if you look at his solo songs and the relationships he currently has with his kids and their mothers, and things other people have said about him/his relationships over the years, I think it’s fair to say he also has a bit of a romantic streak maybe? idk if thats the best way of describing it...he’s self confessed to not being a fan of marriage and the like but he’s not opposed to writing and singing love songs and seems to believe in ~love~ as a concept/power. He certainly cares deeply for those closest to him. Whether or not that translates to an agreement with monogamy I can’t say for certain. It’s hard to draw conclusions here because a lot of what we know of his personal life was fed to us through magazines and news paper gossip column articles and they were never looking for the truth, they were looking for scandal and sensationalism.

For instance the whole thing with the overlapping relationships. I think most people who have read anything about roger and dom and debbie realise that it’s not as cut and dry as “he was cheating with debbie and left dom for her” even though that was the story being sold by the press at the time. The reality (or at least the version closer to reality since obviously no one outside of them and whoever they were closest with knows all the nitty gritty details) is that rog and dom had already split when they got married. it was a marriage of convenience to make sure her and the kids would be looked after financially etc even after he’d moved out. So while it looked to the public like he married one chick and 30 odd days later was spotted with another, there really wasn’t anything untoward happening. I’m not saying he never had casual hookups or one night stands and i’m not saying he never cheated, but I do think some of it’s been exaggerated, whether by him to encourage the rock star perception or by newspaper/magazine articles.

Now, obviously, we have stories of rog, particularly in the late 60s and into the 70s, being with multiple women. There’s that bit in the Interview with a Queen “Groupie” (which is a fantastic read and i defs recommend checking it out if you havent already) where she talks about roger being a chick magnet and says that, at the time, it was pretty common to sleep about. But, she also says she didnt notice him doing it more or less than anyone else and seemed to mostly be with Jo (his girlfriend at the time). This is the same Jo that got a mention in the Queen in 3D book (”i think we all had the feeling that these two were together for life, but it was not to be”). Conversely, we have that quote (which i cannot find rn but i’ll link it when i do) about roger sometimes having one girl upstairs while another waited in the garage for them to be finished. I think it was about Rog in the mid-late 60s in Truro but whatever. Obviously he wasn’t anywhere near celibate and it’s likely was sleeping with people outside of his relationship(s). But one has to assume that as he got older those kinds of antics stopped happening, at least as frequently.

There is one potential story that I remember reading somewhere along the way about Roger cheating on Debbie while she was pregnant. But, take that with a grain of salt because I can’t find the article again and also I think it was from like The Sun or something equally as rubbish. The press was notoriously always printing mean shit about the boys and that might have been another thing they published to create scandal. Even so, if we assume it’s legit that is still only 1 story. Not to throw him under the bus but Brian is the one with multiple confirmed affairs, who literally wrote songs about it all. So why is Roger the one with sleazy reputation?

This is where my second and third points come in. There is a pervasive idea about what it means to be a rock star. The whole trashing hotel rooms, sleeping with groupies, passing out drunk every night thing. And I’m sure that Queen was like that to an extent. I think it’s pretty common knowledge that all of them got up to shit on the road. Between innuendo laden interviews and songs, videos and accounts of their parties, stories CT has put online, and other stories like the one of Roger bringing out lines of coke as dessert when he was having dinner with motley crue. They definitely embraced the rock and roll lifestyle. And I think with Roger’s personality being what it is, it’s easy to link him to those traditional rock star tropes and say it was all true all the time. I also think Roger has done nothing to counter those beliefs. He’s been open about how he wanted to be a rock star since the minute he picked up a guitar, he’s labelled himself as a great lay in magazines, he’s joked about girls pulling their tits out over dinner in interviews (though he said he didnt take her home), he’s written songs like One Night Stand and Dirty Mind and Airheads which explicitly mention his preference for women and alcohol. I think it’s fair to say he’s kind of encouraged that view of himself. Whether it was just a side effect of being part of such a well known band and having such a boisterous demeanour/personality, or whether it was intentional as a version of promotion i don’t know. maybe a mix of them? I mean I’m sure it didn’t hurt sales and stuff. it’s the whole guys want to be him, girls want to be with him thing, right? Maybe that’s just me being cynical though lmao.

Anyway, the fandom brain has taken all of that and compressed it into memes and jokes about rog being the band slut. Which i’m not complaining about, lord knows i’ve made the same jokes and reblogged the same posts and used those tropes in my fics. They’re funny and lend themselves to interesting fic concepts. Plus, i think roger is the sort of person who would probably laugh about most of it. But it’s an idea that keeps feeding into itself through fandom, perpetuating what is probably a misguided view of his personal life.

Again, I am sure he’s had his fair share of fun and I’m not trying to make out that he was always perfect or whatever, but I don’t think he’s been with as many women as the popular discourse would imply and I certainly don’t think he’s in the 4 digit numbers.

#i7558vjvug #please god dont let this start anything #im just here to write smut and have a good time

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purplehairedwonder · 3 years

Text

Hearts With(out) Chains Chapter 8

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gen (eventual Lawlu) Words: 3629 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Monkey D. Luffy, Nico Robin, Usopp, Sanji, Vergo Note: I’m taking my turn at the Corazon!Law AU because my brain won’t leave me alone until this is written down. Tags will be updated as the chapters come out.

The story title is based on the Ellie Goulding song “Hearts Without Chains.”

Summary: Law is reclaimed by the Family when he's 17 and, with Doflamingo holding the lives of his crew as collateral for his good behavior, eventually becomes the third Corazon. Years later, trapped by his impossible situation, Law finds a strange connection to Monkey D. Luffy, which offers a glimpse of something he's repeatedly had ripped away from him: hope.

Previous chapters: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

Robin watched as Luffy came out of the infirmary, a smile on his face as he shut the door behind him. She’d left an ear on the desk, disguised by her book, and she had to admit she was surprised by the conversation—especially that Luffy had gotten their guest (prisoner, despite what Luffy wanted) to volunteer his name. During her time with the Revolutionary Army, she’d known of many attempts by the Revolutionaries and others to learn Corazon’s real name. She filed the name Trafalgar Law away to look into later while once more marveling at her captain’s ability to read—and reach—people.

She rose from her seat and walked over to Luffy, who’d been intercepted by Usopp just outside the door.

“So, what happened?” Usopp was asking, glancing between Luffy and the closed door.

“We talked,” Luffy said, entwining his fingers behind his head. “Torao’s a good guy!”

Usopp frowned. “Torao?”

“Shishishi,” Luffy chuckled. “His name!”

Bemused, Usopp glanced at Robin, who smiled. “I believe our captain convinced Corazon to reveal his real name.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because I asked,” Luffy replied as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. Perhaps it was to him. Usopp sputtered, and Robin patted his shoulder.

“Usopp’s right, though.” They looked up to see Sanji emerge from the kitchen. He was still moving carefully, but he looked much better than when they’d first arrived outside the lab. “Names have power, and that guy’s been going by an alias for years. Why share something so dangerous with his enemies?”

There were a number of potential answers to that question, but Robin had a feeling it was the Luffy Effect in action.

“We’re not enemies,” Luffy said, crossing his arms and frowning.

“He tried to kill us!” Usopp protested.

“He electrocuted me,” Sanji added, lighting a cigarette.

“And we have him locked up in Seastone,” Robin felt obliged to point out.

But Luffy shook his head. “Jimbei made it sound like he took a big risk helping us at Marineford. He said that Mingo guy would be angry, but he did it anyway.”

Robin knew the rumors about Doflamingo’s abilities, his crew, and his underground operations. His cruelty and brutality. Doflamingo saw his crew as a family, with his executives being his most trusted. And he did not stand for disloyalty in his Family. She could only imagine how he might have reacted to his second-in-command helping rival pirates.

“Luffy,” she said gently, waiting for her captain’s eyes to find her, “Corazon was already infamous when we met him on Sabaody. But over the last two years, his reputation has only gotten darker. They call him the Surgeon of Death.”

She had a feeling this wouldn’t dissuade him—little tended to once Luffy had made his mind up about something or someone—but she wanted to make sure he knew anyway.

As expected, Luffy shook his head again while Usopp spluttered in the background. “He saved me.”

There had been endless speculation over the last two years about why Corazon had saved Luffy and Jimbei, ranging from an attempted coup within the Family to a secret love affair (Robin had laughed aloud when this had been floated).

As she’d sat in the infirmary waiting for Corazon to regain consciousness, she found herself watching him. From what she could work out about him, he was a few years younger than her yet had risen to the rank of second in command of the Donquixote Pirates more than half a decade earlier; how young had he been when he had joined such an infamous pirate group to rise so high at such a young age? She knew a thing or two about joining criminal organizations and the way they took advantage of children.

Corazon’s defensiveness upon waking up had been unsurprising, and she again found herself wondering why he had saved Luffy—but then she’d seen the way he’d frozen when Luffy had entered the room, the breath catching in his throat and something in his expression. And he’d given Luffy his real name.

“Luffy,” Usopp said, pulling Robin from her thoughts, “the guy he works for owns this lab where they are experimenting on kids. He’s trying to protect that.”

Luffy huffed. “I don’t know how to explain it. I can just feel it,” he said, a hand going to his chest where the scar—from Corazon’s life-saving operation—was hidden under his winter coat. “I can feel that he’s a good person. He helped me, and I think maybe I’m supposed to help him.”

Robin exchanged glances with Sanji and Usopp. They all knew Luffy’s senses when it came to people were beyond rational explanation but somehow right. Robin in particular knew the power of Luffy’s intuition, having been saved from her own darkness because he wouldn’t let her go. If that intuition was telling him that Corazon—Trafalgar Law—was similarly important and worth helping, then there wasn’t much more to argue.

That was the Luffy Effect.

“Okay,” Robin said.

Sanji and Usopp took a moment longer but also nodded grudgingly. They might not understand it, but they’d trust their captain. (But, if need be, they’d protect him, too.)

-----

Once the door shut behind Straw Hat, Law dropped his head back against the wall and shut his eyes, suddenly exhausted. His head throbbed from the hit from Zoro’s blade, and he considered getting up to look for some painkillers in the infirmary supplies but decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. Outside the door, he could hear the Straw Hats talking, though he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

As he sat there, he couldn’t stop Straw Hat’s words from playing over and over in his mind.

“Jimbei said that you’d be in trouble with that Mingo guy for helping us, and I was worried. Were you? In trouble?”

“I fail to see how that matters.”

“But you helped me anyway. And I’m grateful! So, you’re a good guy. No matter what anyone says.”

“No, I’m really not. You should listen to Nico-ya.”

“Nope, I can feel it. Right here.”

Law had no illusions about what kind of person he was. He’d joined the Donquixote Pirates as a terminally ill ten-year-old, determined to do as much damage as he could before he died, and in many ways, he’d never outgrown that broken boy with bombs on his chest. He was the second in command to one of the biggest names in the slave trade, among other morally reprehensible operations. And though he was a doctor, he’d killed more than he’d saved, the letters tattooed on his fingers a promise as much as a warning.

Perhaps worst of all, though, he’d stopped feeling anything when he killed.

He shuddered to think what Cora-san would think of the man he’d become.

And yet, Straw Hat looked at him and—impossibly—saw something worthwhile. Felt that Law was something worthwhile. Felt it in the same place Law had felt the tug that pulled him to Marineford two years earlier.

What did it mean?

What did Law do with that?

The Seastone cuffs weighed heavily on his wrists, clanking as he opened his eyes and rubbed his face through his hands. He stared up at the ceiling, the words of his nakama from before his departure ringing through his head in the wake of Straw Hat’s declaration:

“I know you spooked when I lost my arm. But it’s not your fault.”

“You’re not this person you’ve let yourself become. They might think of you as Corazon, but to us, you’re Captain.”

Two years of pushing his crew away to protect them, of doing nothing to earn their trust or affection, yet they refused to give up on him. Like Straw Hat, they looked at him and saw something worthwhile. But how could Law accept that from them after what he’d cost them?

Despite what Violet said, Law knew he was, inside and out, Doflamingo’s creature. He knew what he saw when he looked in the mirror, the marks of claiming left on his skin and the emptiness in his eyes. After what he’d lost, Law was too tired to fight it any longer.

So why did people keep looking at him like he was anything but Doflamingo’s broken doll?

Law was startled from his reverie by a loud thud from the deck of the ship. He straightened as he heard the tone of the Straw Hats’ voices change in response to whatever had happened. Punk Hazard was unfriendly territory for them and full of more hazards than they could have known about when they anchored on the island. And most things unfriendly to the Straw Hats should be friendly to Law as Joker’s second.

Law rose and made his way to the door in an attempt to hear more clearly. He was wondering at the odds of using this distraction to search for the key to his cuffs when a familiar voice responded to the Straw Hats’ demands of who he was. Law’s stomach dropped.

“—ase commander of G-5,” Vergo was saying as Law pulled open the infirmary door.

The Straw Hats looked back at him, surprised, but Law ignored them, his eyes focused on Vergo. Vergo inclined his head when Law appeared, which was not a good sign.

“Torao, you should—”

“What are you doing here, Vergo?” Law demanded over Straw Hat.

“You two know each other?” Long Nose asked, glancing between them nervously.

“Your ally?” Black Leg asked, stance turning defensive. “But he’s a Marine.”

There was no way Vergo was here to help Law. But why had he come? Doffy hadn’t wanted him to blow his cover; that the entire reason for sending Law to Punk Hazard in the first place.

“It seems Joker was right to send me to check on your allegiance, Corazon,” Vergo said, lips twisting mockingly around the title he’d once worn himself. “I’ve been warning him for years that you were disloyal, and now I find you defecting.”

Law’s eyes narrowed, and he raised his shackled wrists. “Does this look like defecting, Vergo?” he hissed. Not that it would make a difference; Law was certain Vergo didn’t actually think he had defected. “I’m a prisoner.”

Vergo smirked. “No matter. All Joker needs to know is that I found his favorite plaything standing with the very crew whose captain he betrayed Joker to save two years ago.” His expression darkened. “And don’t forget the -san, boy.”

Law flinched at being called a plaything.

“What’s going on?” Straw Hat asked, frowning between the two. Law ignored him.

“What do you think Joker will do to your crew when he hears you betrayed him again?” Vergo went on.

Law felt the color drain from his face. “You son of a bitch.”

Straw Hat turned to look directly at Law, his expression turning concerned when he saw that Law had gone pale. “Torao—”

Turning his back on Vergo was a mistake. Law’s eyes widened as Vergo drew his bamboo stick, and, as he surged forward, coated it with haki. He swung at Straw Hat’s exposed back. Straw Hat sensed him coming, but Vergo’s speed took him off-guard; Vergo swung his bamboo, and Straw Hat tried to dodge but took enough of a blow to his side that it knocked him off-balance. He yelped in surprise as Vergo swung again, sending him over the ship’s railing into the water below.

Law inhaled sharply as Long Nose and Black Leg both cursed. Long Nose turned to Black Leg.

“Stay with Robin,” he said before taking a running leap and jumping overboard after his sinking captain.

Without missing a beat, Black Leg and Nico Robin took defensive postures in front of Law. Law looked at their backs in disbelief. Why? Why would they help him?

“I have no quarrel with you,” Vergo said to them. “Step aside. This is Family business.”

Black Leg snorted in disbelief, and Nico Robin smiled in that knowing way of hers. “Donquixote Doflamingo wouldn’t want it known he has a spy so high up in the Marines. You won’t let us go.”

Vergo straightened his glasses. “You caught me. But if you step aside, I’ll make your deaths quick.”

“I don’t think so,” Black Leg replied.

Vergo frowned, clearly as confused as Law himself. “Why would you protect him? He tried to kill you.”

So Vergo saw the fight. He must have followed Law from Dressrosa, leaving right behind him. That bastard was just looking for an excuse to cut Law down and finish what he’d started on Minion Island. Had Doffy told him to come, or was Vergo acting on his own?

“Our idiot captain seems to like him,” Black Leg replied with a shrug.

Law started as Nico Robin gave him a small smile before turning back to Vergo. “And Luffy is a very good judge of character. Even if we don’t understand his reasons at first.”

Law’s breath caught in his throat.

Vergo hefted his bamboo. “So be it.”

He charged once more, swinging his bamboo at Nico Robin. Black Leg intercepted the blow with his leg. Vergo fell back and Black Leg charged in a flurry of kicks. Vergo met him blow for blow until the two stopped in the middle of the deck, legs locked. Law winced at the sound of cracking bone. Black Leg slumped, and Law momentarily regretted hitting him with Counter Shock earlier.

“Sanji-kun!” Nico Robin called, worried.

“Where’s the key to these cuffs?” Law demanded urgently as Vergo turned back toward them. He did not want to be defenseless again with Vergo bearing down on him. And he was not going to let Vergo kill Nico Robin for protecting him. Too many people had been hurt or killed protecting Law, and he didn’t deserve any of it.

“Usopp has it,” she said, glancing toward the railing.

“Great,” Law muttered.

As Vergo approached, Nico Robin summoned giant hands, creating a wall between them and Vergo. Law knew it wouldn’t hold against Vergo’s Demon Bamboo. She winced as Vergo slammed against it, the structure shaking under his strength.

“Take Black Leg-ya and get out of here,” Law told her. Hopefully, Long Nose had rescued Straw Hat by now, and they could recover on shore. Vergo would let her go, at least temporarily; he was here because of Law, after all.

She looked at him, startled. “And leave you? You’re powerless.”

“You have no reason to protect me, Nico-ya. I tried to kill your friends. I wouldn’t have stopped, either.” She winced again as the wall trembled against Vergo’s onslaught. “We may both work for Doflamingo, but Vergo wouldn’t hesitate to kill me if given the chance. And now he has the chance.” He shook his head. “Get out of here and regroup with your crew. This is Family business.”

Nico Robin opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by bamboo tearing through her wall. She cried out as the wall collapsed. Vergo met Law’s eye and smirked. Law gasped in pain and surprise as, in a flash, bamboo met his side and sent him flying into the ship’s railing. Slowly, he pushed himself upright and blinked against his spinning vision in time to see Vergo grab Nico Robin by the neck.

“Demon Child Nico Robin,” he said. “I should kill you, but I have a feeling Joker could make good use of you.”

“No thanks,” she choked out between gasps. “I have a crew.”

Vergo simply laughed—a sound that made Law’s skin crawl—and flung her across the deck. She slammed into Black Leg, who was struggling to balance with a fractured leg, and the pair were knocked into the far wall.

Law pushed himself to his feet. Vergo turned to look at him, the malice radiating from him palpable on the winter air. If Law had access to his powers, he would have no problem taking Vergo on. But with the Seastone shackles blocking him from his Fruit and draining his strength, he was as helpless in the face of Vergo’s rage now as he had been as a sick child—and they both knew it.

Vergo moved and suddenly Law’s back slammed into the wall, a haki-clad hand around his throat. Law’s feet dangled off the ground as he struggled to breathe. He grasped at Vergo’s wrist, struggling vainly to loosen the grip stealing his air.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time, Law.”

“Beating a terminally-ill child nearly to death wasn’t enough for you?” Law wheezed. It somehow seemed fitting that Vergo would finish the job he’d started on a winter island on the winter side of Punk Hazard. There was a feeling of things coming full circle as the snow fell around them.

“Once a traitor, always a traitor,” Vergo growled. “You’ve never been good enough for Doffy. Yet he brings you back and elevates you to his right hand.”

As darkness encroached on the edges of Law’s vision, it hit him that Vergo wasn’t simply holding a grudge about Cora-san’s betrayal. Since Law’s return to the Family nearly a decade earlier, Doffy had kept Law close, giving him no opportunities for betrayal. Holding Law’s crew hostage, he’d groomed Law—teaching him, training him, even fucking him. He did everything to make sure his ownership of Law was complete. Law had hated every moment of it—the only freedom he’d found was leaving Dressrosa on the Polar Tang with his crew on missions—but Vergo was jealous.

Law croaked out a disbelieving laugh at the realization.

Vergo frowned. “What’s so funny?”

“I didn’t take you for the jealous type, Vergo.”

Vergo snarled wordlessly and tightened his grip. Law gasped, feeling what little strength he had leaving him. His lungs screamed, he was light-headed, and his eyes started to close.

Would it really be so bad if Vergo killed him now? It would end nearly a decade of hell, the daily physical and emotional torture that had beaten him down to the point of pushing his nakama away…

Law’s eyes flew open at the thought of his nakama. He couldn’t die and leave them alone to face Doffy’s retribution. He couldn’t die without them knowing how much they meant to him, that even if he’d been a poor excuse for a captain, there was no greater honor than leading them.

A sudden fire burning in his chest, Law’s gaze sharpened, and he dropped his hands from Vergo’s wrist. Vergo looked at him in confusion—clearly, he’d thought Law had been about to succumb—and Law took his moment of distraction to loop the Seastone shackles over Vergo’s neck and cross his arms to tighten them with his waning strength. Vergo didn’t have a Devil Fruit so the Seastone wouldn’t affect him, but he would feel the bite of metal into his skin.

In his current position, Law didn’t have enough strength to truly strangle Vergo, but the move was enough to startle Vergo and cause pain. Reflexively, he loosened his grip, and Law gulped in the delicious, frigid air. Letting go of Law’s neck, Vergo grabbed Law’s arms.

“Let go,” he growled.

“You can’t kill me, Vergo,” Law rasped.

Vergo regarded him through those sunglasses. “Why not?” He only had to strain a bit to speak against Law’s attempted strangulation.

“Doffy has plans for my death, and we both know it.”

The surprise was evident on Vergo’s features. “How did you know—”

Law scoffed. “You don’t think I know why they call the Ope Ope no Mi the ultimate Devil Fruit? Kill me now and Doffy will have to look for the Fruit all over again if he wants that operation.”

Law never intended to go through with the operation, but it was leverage Vergo couldn’t ignore.

“Doffy always says you’re too clever for your own good,” Vergo said, lips curling in distaste. But Law knew he had the other man; Vergo was completely devoted to Doffy, and he wouldn’t do anything to risk his master’s chance of receiving immortality.

In one sudden motion, Vergo let go of Law’s arms and grabbed the chain wrapped around his neck. He pulled it free and held the chain above his head, leaving Law dangling in midair by the wrists. Law hissed in surprise.

“Now what, Vergo-san?” Law asked, sneering the oft-demanded honorific.

“I take you back to Dressrosa, a fallen traitor,” Vergo taunted. “Doffy will finally see you for what you are—nothing better than his miserable excuse for a brother. You can watch Doffy slowly destroy your crew one by one. Maybe he’ll even make you kill some of them.” He sounded amused at the prospect. “And then he’ll make you beg to perform the Perennial Youth operation—and only then will you die, doing one useful thing in your miserable life.”

Chest clenching, Law thought of his crew. Of kind Bepo. Of goofy Shachi. Of brave Penguin. Penguin’s words came back then, sharp and pointed.

“You want to pull that, maybe you should start acting like a captain again.”

No. I won’t let that happen. He was done failing them as their captain.

His eyes flew open as Vergo’s haki-coated fist connected with his stomach. The breath left his lungs—again—and he would have curled in on himself if he wasn’t hanging in midair. Vergo let go of the chain and Law dropped to the grass of the Thousand Sunny’s deck. He looked up in time to see Vergo’s bamboo coming right for his head.

“Torao!” he heard in the distance.

Then nothing.

Next chapter

#I had an off day so have an early chapter #I really like how this chapter turned out #Caitlin's fic #Trafalgar Law #One Piece fanfic #One Piece fanfiction #One Piece

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petri808 · 4 years

Link

Fandom: Fairy Tail. Rating: Mature. Nalu AU ANGST trigger warning. Based on this post. Just under 10k words

Lucy Heartfilia is diagnosed with a heart defect. Stuck in the hospital waiting on the transplant list, there is only one thing bringing any light to her dreary world; a volunteer named Natsu Dragneel who truly becomes her bittersweet savior.

@uzumaki2810 Here you go, I hope you like it :) Also thank you to the angst queen @doginshoe IM SORRY I FORGOT TO ADD THIS MESSAGE ;-; she beta’d and bore the tears with me to make sure it was a good story :)

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It all started back in her last year of middle school when puberty really kicked into overdrive and she developed a well-endowed chest. She assumed the little pricks of pain related to the added weight cause they sure gave her a backache if she pushed herself too hard. Exercise was overly exhausting, so there went any chances of making the cheer squad in high school. Not that Lucy was really interested in sports, but by the start of high school she realized any physical activity needed to be avoided. But she didn’t want to worry her father since it was a random pain that would only surface if she exerted herself; ergo it was her boob’s fault, and she kept the pain to herself.

As time passed, and her high school years carried on, Lucy did her best to ignore the symptoms, even when something new manifested itself. Fatigue… she was studying too hard. Rapid heartbeat… well, there was that cute boy that just walked by. Shortness of breath when she laid down… it’s just from the weight of her chest. Each and every time, Lucy found a rational explanation. She buried her nose in her studies as an outlet, which she really didn’t mind so much. Her favorite thing to do in the world was to write quick fantasy stories she’d make up, and she’d often spend her breaks holed up in the library researching some new topic of dragons or fairies or whatever had caught her attention.

“Ugghhhh,” Lucy flinches as the blinding white light breaks through the surface of her vision. She shields her eyes and slowly opens them but can only manage a tiny squint. Her mind was groggy, and she swore her limbs felt like dead weights. “W-Where am I?”

She hears the muffled sound of her father’s voice calling for a doctor. Why was there a slight ringing in her ear? Something about she’s awake now, hurry? The rest had been too muffled to understand. Had she been asleep? Lucy was completely confused. But the light… the light was so bright!

“Ms. Heartfilia? Ms. Heartfilia, can you hear me?”

It was a strange male voice talking to her. Where did her father go?

“Yes,” she croaks out, flinching as her body is coming out of its slumber and suddenly a sharp pain hits her again. Lucy winces, this was worse than before.

“Ms. Heartfilia, do you know where you are?”

She shakes her head.

“You’re in the hospital, dear.”

Wait! It was her father’s voice again. What did he mean she was in a hospital! Lucy forces herself to open her eyes fully, though, keeping her hand between her face and the overhead lights. “Why am I in a hospital?!”

Lucy hears the doctor's voice again, seemingly at a distance because her viewpoint was limited, speaking to someone. Fainted. Temporary amnesia. Congenital heat disease. Wait what?! “Hey what’s going on?!” she calls out then is hit by another spike of pain. Damn it! “Dad? Hello?!” But it’s like she was being ignored. Birth defect. Advanced case. Surgery. “Someone please talk to me!” Tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “Talk to me!!!” A third, and now the largest stab of pain hits her. Lucy cries out at the pain and curls in on herself. More shouting and the voice returns, hands probing something near her chest, and machines starting to blare out warning beeps.

“Please calm down Ms. Heartfilia, calm down, don’t push yourself too much or the pain will get worse.”

How could this get any worse…

That was 3 years ago, and the sands of time were running low.

Her father had done all he could, dragging her to specialist after specialist, exhausting a chunk of his fortune on doctors from one coast to the other, only to be told Lucy would need a heart transplant or she may not see her twenty-first birthday. The most they could do for her while she waited on the transplant list was implant a ventricular assist device into her body. It gave her a small measure of freedom instead of being tied to a normal transcutaneous machine, but it was still uncomfortable. Her movements were restricted, she had to be careful of catching a cold, and what ended up being the hardest part, was the breast reduction surgery they had her undergo at the same time of the VAD surgery to reduce the weight and strain it added to her heart.

For so long she’d blamed her large breasts for causing all her pains, but now that she knew they weren’t, it was sad to see them go. They were a part of her after all, no matter how much of a headache they could be. For weeks after the surgery, Lucy could barely look at herself in the mirror. She didn’t recognize herself anymore. This youthful woman with tubes sticking out of her stomach which attached to a device around her waist that helped her weakened heart muscles do their job to keep her alive. That had been the diagnosis, a congenital birth defect that weakened her heart muscles, and as she aged, the muscles would continue to deteriorate. Oh, her father was so furious when they were told she didn’t qualify for an artificial heart because death wasn’t imminent.

It hadn’t taken long after completing high school that the depression had surfaced. All of her friends were moving on to college, most to distant campuses so she had no one to talk to. Lucy would hide away in her bedroom for days at a time as the internal struggle mounted. Why continue to go through this pain and struggle… why not just end it quickly and painlessly. It was tempting. From the research she’d done on heart defects, the end wasn’t very pretty. Her only hope was a donor, but people die every day on the transplant list waiting for a heart that never came, just growing weaker and weaker….

At least the VAD had given her two decent years, but her days of being an outpatient at the hospital had come to an end. Even with the device assisting her heart, Lucy’s body was struggling to deal with the strain. The smallest exertions required fuel from her heart to power her body, so even something as minimal as the fatigue of reading a book for too long could trigger an arrythmia or worse, and the pain that may accompany it. She needed to stay in the hospital so that her heart could be constantly monitored and if there was any sudden change, they could address it quickly.

The doctors were doing their best to keep her alive in the hopes a donor would surface. But you never knew when one would become available, and her time was running short. The original prediction of not making it to twenty-one was fast approaching. Frankly, Lucy felt like it was by the luck of the draw and the odds were better at a Las Vegas casino. It was a lonely experience being cooped up in the hospital and thankfully there was one glimmer of happiness amongst the sterile white halls.

“Lucy!”

“Hi Natsu.”

He smirks, “I brought you something.” The young man was bouncing on the balls of his feet with his hands clasped behind his back.

All the volunteers that visited the hospital were kind people, but there was one that made Lucy smile the most. A young man named Natsu Dragneel. She’d told herself at the beginning of her medical odyssey that she wouldn’t let anyone get too close to her, not only for her protection but there’s. The pain of losing someone you care about was an emotion Lucy had borne at the tender age of five when her mother lost her own battle to cancer, and it was a feeling she didn’t wish upon her worst enemy. But this man sure made that promise a tough one to keep.

Natsu’s adoptive mother was a long-time surgery nurse at this hospital, who had had taught him the value of life. It was because of seeing her kindness towards people that spurred his decision to be a volunteer. Even at eighteen years of age he knew that volunteering would be difficult, and five years later, he would admit it never got any easier. Many volunteers eventually burn out, especially when dealing with the terminal patients, but Natsu pushed through, reminding himself it was those very patients that needed their support the most.

“Oh,” she quirks an eyebrow, “what is it?”

“Tada!” he whips out a single yellow rose with pinkish-red tipped petals and hands it to her. “My younger sister showed me how to dye the tips, isn’t it cool!”

Lucy takes the flower, “wow that is really beautiful! The pink even matches your hair.” She lifts it to her nose and picks up on the light rosy fragrance it exuded. “Smells nice too.” She tries to hand it back to Natsu.

“Tch, my hair’s not pink, it’s salmon, and I made it for you,” he smiles, “something to brighten your day.” Natsu then walks over to the small bathroom and fills a cup with water, brings it back and places it on the small windowsill next to her bed. “For the flower.”

“Thank you,” Lucy blushes a little and hands him back the bloom since she couldn’t reach the cup herself. “It was really kind of you to bring me that Natsu.”

“Nah,” he places the flower in the cup for her, “I’d do anything to make you smile.”

It wasn’t every day, but Natsu would come to see her as often as he could. His regular job as a construction worker wasn’t a regular 9 to 5 kind of thing. Some weeks he might work five days straight, while on slower periods like the winter and early spring months it may only be a couple of days a week depending on weather. He’d told her that working with his hands was something he enjoyed immensely, and the company was training him to be a carpenter.

Natsu sure wasn’t what she’d expected of a construction guy. Oh, his hands showed the roughened appearance of someone who worked hard for a living, but she thought they would be these rough and tumble kind of men. Not Natsu, with his goofy and sweet personality. She could only imagine how well such a line of work helped to keep the man in shape. He always wore t-shirts and jeans, but his trim features hidden behind the fabric were easily discernable.

The light of the sun brought the yellow rose to life along with a slight tremor in her heart, not of pain but of adoration. Lucy smiles sweetly at his remark, her eyes crinkling, glinting with a tinge of moisture she had no control over. She didn’t want to admit her growing affection for this man who always said the sweetest things or made the most charming gestures. Natsu was always so compassionate and supportive, while never making it seem like it was just his job as a volunteer to comfort the patients. It was easy to wish that maybe… he was doing it just for her?

Lucy ducks her head, hiding the hint of jealousy coating her cheeks and tone, “I’m sure you make such kind gestures for the other patients too.”

“Oh, no,” Natsu sits beside her and takes her hand, “just you.” He gently lifts her chin, forcing her to face him. She averts her eyes, but he stares forward, softening his glare, almost wanting to chuckle that he’s had such an effect on her. “You’re special to me.”

Of all the patients in this small hospital, Lucy Heartfilia was the one his heart grieved for the most. It wasn’t fair, at only twenty years old, for this beautiful and intelligent woman to be tied to a hospital bed, watching her life flash by in the form of ridges and valley peaks. The first time they had met was two years ago, but back then she would only come in for overnight monitoring’s or check-ups, and after her major surgery, she stayed for a few months during the recovery process. By now, they were friends, but it had taken work on his part to get her to open up to him.

“No, I’m not…” Lucy sucks the corner of her bottom lip in to stifle the tremor.

His tone deepens in a comeback, “Yes, you are.”

Her eyes finally snap to his, and when she sees the determination behind them, reality kicks in. He was telling the truth! Oh, heaven help her. It was cute to dream, but not for it to be real. She feels a sting in her chest and pushes his hands away. “Please don’t,” her voice is barely a whisper, trembling from the stinging pain in her heart and her soul. “I-I shouldn’t be….” ‘This is so wrong… Because I’m dying and he deserves someone better. I shouldn’t have said anything.’ Stupid little daggers of jealousy! She clutches her chest, willing her heart to still, and pain to subside, ‘please go away!’

“Hey, hey!” Natsu immediately switches his concern from being flirty to concerned. “Lucy please calm down, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you!”

“I-It’s okay, I-I’ll be okay.” She fights the tears back with all the strength she can muster. Lucy didn’t want to cry in front of Natsu. “Please, Natsu, I don’t want to get our hopes up l-like that…. If this… If things were different….”

“Shhh,” he cradles her face, “shhh, it’s okay Luce, I feel the same way.”

After a few moments, Lucy lets out a long exhale. “I appreciate it, I really do.” She looks up and cracks a pained smile. “You’re the only thing keeping me going, but I-I just don’t even want to think about not being there for you…”

It was Natsu’s turn to crack. “Please don’t finish that.” He looks down, holding back the urge to cry or show how upset it makes him. “I don’t want to think about that.”

“But it…”

“You don’t know that, no one knows that, and I,” his voice falters, seething with all the will of his soul placed behind it, “I will cling to hope till my dying breath.”

The sudden change in his demeanor, switches Lucy from feeling so self-absorbed in her own thoughts to realize, Natsu has had an effect on her, but she truly had an effect on him too. It hurt even more now that his behaviors weren’t just a rouse to make her happy, and it killed her to think of what he will suffer when she goes.

“I’m sorry, Natsu. I didn’t realize.” She grabs his hand, squeezing it hard. “Natsu I’m sorry. Let’s stop thinking about this then, hmm,” doing her best to keep her tone soft and comforting. “Look at me, Natsu, please, I don’t want to keep fighting with you.”

He sighs, “you’re right. That’s the last thing I wanna do with you.” It was a surprise even to himself that he’d lost his cool, and for the first time the awareness of his growing infatuation became real.

“Good,” she squeezes his hand again. “Hey, um, you know its lunch time, we could eat outside since it’s a nice day…” her voice grows tentative, “if you’ll join me.”

“Lucy Heartfilia, are you asking me out on a date?” He chuckles, ready to put all the sadness behind them. “Because if that’s the case,” the sparkle in his eyes return, “I would be honored.”

For the next couple of months, Natsu and Lucy’s friendship flourishes, as her physical body slowly deteriorates. It was hard, he couldn’t lie, to watch this happen, and if it wasn’t for the strength of his convictions or his plain stubborn attitude about it that kept him upbeat. He knew that she needed him to be her strength, and that fueled his desire to make sure she smiles every day.

Lucy didn’t know, but his mother would keep him updated on her condition. Not that he needed to know all the technical jargon, for he could see it with his own eyes. Lucy herself would tell him just enough information when she needed to, but he never pushed or pried for it, letting it always be on her terms. The cardiomyopathy was getting worse, her heart muscles barely functioning on its own at this point. She had her good days and bad days but walking around wasn’t really an option anymore aside from brief steps for a purpose. It also meant that the muscles in her legs were weakening too. Physical therapy once a week worked with Lucy on light stretches to keep them from completely atrophying, but it was all they could do for her at this point. But no matter how much weight she lost, or that her hair didn’t hold its familiar luster, to Natsu she would always be the same radiant woman he adored.

She’d resigned herself to this fate a lot better than Natsu would have thought a person could do. When he tried to picture himself in her shoes, he was sure he wouldn’t have the strength to keep going, but that was what amazed him even more about her. On her agreeable days, Natsu enjoyed getting her out of her room, even if for brief periods of time. Lunch or dinner in the cafeteria, the grounds of the hospital on a sunny day, or even stargazing when the evening air was warm. He’d bring a wheelchair, and off they’d go, talking about anything or nothing, avoiding the subject of her condition, just giving her a smidge of a normal existence for once.

Lucy opens her eyes at the knock on her door to see a familiar face pop through. “Hey Natsu,” she cracks a pained smile.

“Hey Luce, how ya doin’ today?”

She starts to sit up in the hospital bed, but when it’s clear to Natsu the woman was struggling, he quickly rushes over and assists. “Thanks,” another light smile. “I’m sorry, I’ve been a little sore today.”

“Never apologize to me,” he smiles back warmly. No matter what, he always did his best to appear upbeat for the patients despite his heart literally breaking for them. He places his hand on hers, “so, tell me gorgeous, are ya hungry? We could dinner date in the cafeteria if you’re up to it. My treat,” he winks.

“Stop calling me gorgeous,” Lucy chides the sunny young man, despite the small rosy glow of her cheeks. “I know I’m not, and that’s okay.” With the help of a psychiatrist and over a year of therapy, Lucy had finally accepted her fate and kept moving forward as best she could. If she will die someday, she will die with dignity. Stress wasn’t very good on her heart, so once she made peace with her circumstances, even her physical ailments had benefitted.

“Pfft,” Natsu pretends to be offended, “are you calling me a liar because I know I’m not blind.” His grin growing along with the deepening of red along her cheeks. “Besides, you know I won’t stop no matter how much you complain about it.”

Lucy laughs and her eyes twinkle, “I know, so we’ll keep agreeing to disagree.”

It was in these moments, and why he did what he did, just to see this woman’s eyes light up, that sent his own heart into palpitations. Deep down Natsu knew that the chances of Lucy making it out of this hospital were slim to none, but you’d never know it when he spoke to her. He stifles the urge to sigh. Oh, how he wished the circumstances were different. In a perfect world, Natsu would love nothing more than to walk this woman down the aisle.

He circles the topic back around, “so… dinner, on me?” he teases lightly with a wink. “We can take a trip through pediatrics where there are a few recent arrivals.”

Her gaze lowers as she hides the seventh heaven emotions the young man stirs in her. “I’d like that.”

Natsu squeezes her hand, “I’ll be right back, lemme grab your carriage milady.”

As Lucy waited the few minutes for Natsu to grab a wheelchair, she closes her eyes and does a breathing technique to calm her heart. She hadn’t wanted to show the slight tinges of pain she was getting as they spoke, because she knew it would have worried him. They’d been steadily increasing in frequency lately, and she fought to keep him from discovering that. But she couldn’t help it. Despite her condition, Lucy was still a young woman with an intact mind, she still had desires like any other, and when a handsome young man close to her age flirted with her, of course she would react to it! She did her best not to let these thoughts sink in too deeply and told herself he was merely doing it to make her feel better. It was a lie, but it was the best way to shield herself.

“Ready?” Natsu extends his hand to help Lucy to her feet.

She nods and takes hold, gripping on while he maneuvers her around and onto the chair. It weakened Lucy to where her muscles were slowly losing their strength because her heart was struggling to keep her body oxygenated and functioning properly. With support she could stand for brief periods, but only with support. At least with Natsu, she could put her faith in his hold that he’d never let her fall.

After adjusting the foot plates and making sure Lucy was comfortable, Natsu takes off towards the cafeteria two floors down. He’d already alerted dining when he’d gone out for the chair they were coming down, to prepare a meal within Lucy’s dietary needs. It wasn’t a terribly restrictive diet, but there were some limits, such as no stimulants like caffeine, or anything with a high fat content.

Natsu loved these little dates as he called them. On warm sunny days it may include a stroll outside for some fresh air, or if it was cold and rainy, merely sharing a cup of light hot chocolate in the visitor's lounge in front of the massive floor to ceiling windows. But if Lucy wasn’t feeling well, he was content to sit by her side in her room, talking, telling stories, or doing anything just to cheer her up. Sometimes he would fantasize during these events as if they were simply at home and relaxing like a normal couple.

“Oh yay, beef barley,” Lucy stirs and lifts a spoonful up before letting it flow back into the bowl. “My fave.” She knew why they gave it to her, but that didn’t make it anymore appetizing. Barley was supposedly good for heart health, and the protein it contained was useful for her body. She crunches up the soda crackers the meal came with and drops them into the soup, letting the pieces soak in.

“I don’t mind it,” Natsu shovels a spoonful into his mouth. He always made it a point to eat the same thing they gave Lucy, so she felt more normal about it. “But if you really don’t want it, I could ask them to make you a sandwich instead.”

“No, no,” she waves her hand, her voice oozing with a sense of longing mixed with frustration, “it’s okay, I’m fine with it. I just would kill to eat a fatty, tasty, slathered in sauce cheeseburger with a side of waffle fries or something you know.”

Natsu snorts a laugh and almost chokes on his food as a mental picture of Lucy chomping down on a burger, with sauce dripping down her chin both amuses and arouses him. “I-I can imagine,” he bangs his chest a couple times to dislodge some liquid that made it down the wrong pipe. “Throw some sriracha sauce on that vision and you just named one of my favorite foods.” Could this woman become any more of his dream girl?!

She giggles, “So, um…” Lucy hesitates for a second. She didn’t want to sound desperate or anything, but loneliness was the quickest way to send her back into a depression and she cherished the time the man spent with her. “How much time are you spending with me today?”

“As long as you’d like,” he winks. “I always do my rounds first and come to you last so I can stay as long as I want to.”

Ugh! The flirty thing again! Lucy wills her body to behave. “Wow, that makes me pretty special, huh?”

“Extremely,” he leans in, letting his gaze grow half-lidded, and his tone mellowing into a soothing cadence. “I’m gonna steal your heart one day Luce, that’s a promise.”

“What?! Pfft,” damn, she can feel the heat rising in her cheeks, “there’s no point in stealing a broken heart sir…” Despite the desire to feel aroused over his comment, it also brought a sense of sadness to her she fought down the urge to let tears rise to the surface. ‘He’s just teasing… he’s just being sweet, trying to make me feel normal… It’s not real Lucy, It’s not real!’ But oh, how she wished it was! Natsu was the perfect man that any woman would kill for. Sweet, strong, handsome, silly, she could go on and on with the list. He was the one ray of sunshine in her dreary world now that she truly was all alone in it. The stress of caring for her had driven her father into his own massive heart attack last year. She had no one, except Natsu.

“I mean it Luce,” he reaches out and takes her hand, letting his thumb sweep over the skin. “Broken or not, I want to steal it and have the person it’s attached to a—ll to myself.”

“Please don’t,” Lucy pulls her hand back. She could feel the tears pooling and if she didn’t stop it now, they’d soon fall. “You know I appreciate it, really I do Natsu.” Lucy looks back up at him and cracks a pained smile. “But you deserve someone who’s not broken.”

The absolute pain measured in Lucy’s eyes, and the sorrow in her voice was like a dagger straight through Natsu’s soul. He could understand her desire of not wanting to believe in miracles or to shield herself from further pain, but that only killed him more. She deserved so much more out of life. Ugh, if only he had a direct line to destiny so he could kick its ass and tell it to leave Lucy in peace! He didn’t want to upset her anymore. “Okay, I’ll stop pushing too hard. But I promise you Luce, one day you will walk out of this hospital a healthy woman, and you can steal my heart instead.”

She sighs, “You can’t promise something like that.”

“I have faith,” Natsu gives her his wide, ear-to-ear grin and a wink. “You’ll see.”

How could she stay upset after seeing that smile of his? That damn ear-to-ear grin that lit up his eyes. The eternal optimist, Natsu Dragneel trying so hard to keep her spirits up. He and that smile may very well be the one thing keeping her going at this point. “Okay, okay,” Lucy chuckles, “I give up, yes it's possible.”

“Woo Hoo!” He pumps his fist in the air in an exaggerated victory, “that’s the spirit! Now eat, so we can go check out the babies!”

Lucy laughs again and nods with a smile, “okay.”

It was harder than she let on to him because she knew how much he enjoyed checking out all the new arrivals, but seeing those babies coming into this world while she would be leaving it shortly was painful. All those hopeful, bright little lives…. They were a bittersweet reminder that a hospital holds two balances; the power to bring life into this world or take it away by not being able to heal a person. She didn’t blame the doctors, for they were doing their best, because sometimes the sands of time runs its course and there is just nothing more they can do. It was simply a part of life, to be born and die, never knowing when the grim reaper would come calling.

“Look, look! I was told three were born yesterday.” Natsu points excitedly as he parks her chair in front of the viewing window of the nursery. He plasters his face against the clear glass. “Two girls and one boy. Awww, one already has some hair!” Turning back to Lucy, “can you see okay, would you like me to help you stand up?”

“Thank you for the offer, but I can see just fine,” Lucy throws on a smile for effect. “They are quite adorable, aren’t they?”

“Are you sure? You know the doctors want you to stand sometimes so that your legs don’t atrophy as quickly. I will gladly bear the weight.”

“Are you saying I’m heavy?!” She was just teasing, but it was the perfect setup to do so.

“What?!” he waves his arms, “n-no way! You’re not heavy, I meant I’m stronger so I can hold you up…”

“So, I’m weak?”

“Wait, what, no!”

Lucy giggles at how much the man was stepping all over his tongue. “I’m just teasing you, Natsu. I know I should, but I’m just a little tired today.” That was partially true.

The man pouts, “so mean Luce,” he whines and throws on the saddest puppy dog expression he can muster, even a sniffle for effect. “But it was an excuse to hold you in my arms.”

Oh, how quickly the tides can turn as his bold little statement sets her face ablaze. He re—ally needed to stop with the flirting, or she was about to have an actual heart attack! “All right,” Lucy groans, “just for a few minutes.” It wasn’t the first time she’s allowed him to help her stand and maintain her balance, but before his little retort, she’d never thought twice about it.

Natsu locks the chair and adjusts the foot plates out of the way so that Lucy can put her feet on the ground. “Just take all the time you need,” his voice grows soft and soothing, “don’t rush.”

She tests her leg strength by pushing with the balls of her feet against the floor, rocking them and applying pressure to warm up the muscles. Brief movements, like getting from the bed to the wheelchair were one thing, standing for a few minutes or walking a few feet were another. It was frustrating and embarrassing, so she avoided it as much as possible, like when going to the bathroom. Lucy didn’t mind when the nurses assisted her with that compromising predicament, but this was embarrassing in a different way.

Once she feels her legs are ready, she holds out her hand which Natsu quickly takes hold of and braces her other on the arm of the chair to push herself up. When she gets to a standing position, Natsu moves around her body, placing an arm around her waist as he gently guides her the two feet to the window. He stays on constant alert, monitoring any change so if her legs decide to buckle, he can catch her. As soon as she reaches the window, Lucy places her hands on the slight ledge of the sill. Natsu then switches his position to stand directly behind her, wrapping both arms around her upper chest to hold her close, but above the tubes in her lower abdomen.

Could he feel how much her body was heating up from the intimate contact? Lucy fought her own emotions to keep from escalating and stressing her heart out, for she was keenly aware of how they would look to anyone passing by. Dear heavens, it was hard to do with his chest pressed up against her back…. She wished they could stay like that forever. ‘Breathe… just breathe, Lucy…. Look at the babies, just focus on the babies…’ That only made it worse.

The babies…. Just a day old. The little angels were like moldable clay. They’ll grow… they’ll change… Will they become teachers or astronauts some day? Oh, look at the one, smiling in his sleep, how precious. Someday, will they make their dreams come true? What will they be like? Good little kids or naughty, friendly, the life of the party or a shy introvert? Like many young girls who dreamt of becoming a mother someday, Lucy had envisioned having a family of her own with the love of her life and the white picket fence. A little girls fantasy. She closes her eyes, praying that Natsu wasn’t paying attention to her. The tears pool behind her eyelids and she stills the desire to sniffle. That fantasy was now dashed like a shipwreck against the shoreline, never to sail the seven seas again. Natsu would have made the perfect husband and father for such a fairytale, and he will one day, just not in her storybook ending.

She’d been so focused on fighting back her emotions, that Lucy hadn’t noticed Natsu’s head was now resting against her shoulder or how his face was curled against the nape.

“It’s okay to cry sometimes Luce.”

His whispered voice, so close to her ear, breaks the dam. Lucy squeezes her eyes tighter and fingertips curl, tensing against the windowsill. Shit, he knew all along. Her knees tremble as the tears flow freely, but she feels his hold tighten around her to keep her from falling. It had been some time since she’d allowed herself to release the pain in this way.

Natsu hadn’t been certain of it until now, but in the last several times they’d come to the pediatric ward, he’d sensed a change in Lucy’s energy. She always wore a smile with a hidden agenda and now he’s confirmed his suspicions. Well, it was his mother really that pointed it out one day when he’d mentioned it to her. The woman was great at understanding human emotions and after years of caring for patients, she’s learned to follow her intuition.

“Lucy was a young woman who may not live to be a mother or have a family of her own, of course it might upset her to see the infants.” His first inclination was to stop bringing the woman to this ward, but his mother gave him a second option. “Help her grieve.” Those three words coming out of his mother’s mouth stunned him briefly. What did she mean to help her grieve?!! “If Lucy has no one to turn to, how can she process what is happening to her. Show her it’s okay to be upset, help her let out the pain before it consumes her.”

“I will hold you for as long as I need to Luce, just let the pain go.”

But it was killing him to do this! Natsu had told his mother that he didn’t think he was strong enough. The woman simply smiled, patted his cheek and said, “I believe in you son. If you truly care, then you’ll have the strength to move mountains for her.” Damn his mother and her intuition, though Natsu realized only a fool couldn’t see how much he was falling for Lucy. He’d sell his soul to a demon to get her a new heart.

Strangely, Lucy’s body wasn’t reacting like she thought it would. Stress usually caused her blood pressure to rise and strain her heart muscles, but that wasn’t happening. She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing like a broken spigot, and maybe that was the best thing, like a release of the pressure that had built up unbeknownst to her. Her hands move from the windowsill to Natsu’s arms, clutching to and resting her head on them. Lucy couldn’t look up, not yet, but she needed to let him know she heard his words, and they meant the world to her.

She would have made an amazing mother, Natsu was sure of it, and it would be a lie to say he’s never thought of or imagined them staring through this viewing window at their own little boy or girl one day. Would the child have Lucy’s beautiful golden waves or chocolate brown eyes? Or maybe take Natsu’s salmon pink hair and onyx eyes. No matter what, the child would be perfect and loved. A child that as the day ticked down on the transplant list was losing hope of ever being born. Crap! Natsu squeezes his eyes closed tight. He couldn’t let her see him struggling with this, but damn if those images didn’t just cut him deep.

Neither of them knew how long they were standing there or even if any of the other hospital staff had noticed. They were in their own little world while time passed them by. It was Lucy who finally let out a small exhale as a last release of all that had struck her today, and with that tension gone, the tears turned into exhaustion. Ever cry so hard and for so long that your body became lethargic? Lucy yawns wide and deep, her eyes growing heavy and clouded, a little lightheaded, ready to go to sleep.

Natsu kisses the crown of her head and without a word, maneuvers her so she can sit back down in her wheelchair. He sets the foot panels in place and helps her feet onto them, then pushes her back to her room. There is a companionable silence, as if all their wordless exchanges had communicated volumes that needed no explanation. Once back in her own room, Natsu helps her onto the bed and set the wheelchair aside.

After helping to re-attach her heart monitors, Natsu checks, “is there anything else I can get you before I go?” She shakes her head. “In that case…”

Lucy motions for him to lean in closer and once he’s close enough, she hesitates briefly then places a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for everything Natsu.”

His eyes widen, shocked by what she’d just done. “Luce?”

“I just felt like doing it,” she blushes. “Tonight… I don’t know, I just feel so much better and it’s all because of you.” Lucy closes her eyes as a yawn cuts through. They were so tired…

“You are very welcome,” Natsu smiles. He moves to leave, but Lucy grabs his hand and squeezes. When he turns back to look, her eyes are still closed, and there is a slight smile on her face which brings a swelling of his pride. He leans down and kisses the back of her hand. “Rest now, and I will see you again tomorrow.”

Mister Sandman beckoned to Lucy of mystical creatures bathed in glittering stars, calling upon father time to bring peace to a weary soul. She didn’t know why, but though the pull was strong, she fought his dreamy reverie. Today had been the most emotionally charged day in a long time. All the tears Lucy had shed brought a new peace to her spirit, something in this entire experience not even a trained therapist could have given her. The amount of love that Natsu provided, whether platonic or wishful yearnings, calmed her, and pushed away the emptiness she had felt for so long…. So long stuck in this pain. She wanted to relive this day forever, safe in Natsu’s arms, drowning in the pool of his obsidian hues. ‘… to steal his heart…’ Lucy knew she already had, just as he had stolen hers in a way. A sense of warmth floods through her body, shielding her to the cool air-conditioned room. Lucy’s smile widens as her mind slips into the abyss of dreams, of a pink-haired prince who’d finally set her soul free.

“Natsu wake up,” the voice repeats as the person attached to it shakes his sleeping form. “Natsu wake up.”

“Huh?” His clouded mind hears the voice of his mother. “What is it?” He turns his head, his eyes temporarily pin-pointed from the harsh lamp light next to his bed. “Mom, what are you doing in my room?” Natsu pushes himself to a sitting position as his mother takes a seat next to him. With his vision focusing better, he finally notices the moisture clouding his mother’s eyes. “Mom, what is it?!”

She takes his hand, squeezing it tightly with her head slightly lowered in pain. “I-I’m sorry, son, but the hospital just called me…. Your friend, s-she had a massive heart attack.”

By the time his mother had finished the sentence, Natsu had stopped listening to anything she was saying. He knew, the moment she’d said I’m sorry… to wake him up in the middle of the night, it had to be…. All the blood drains from his face and his shoulders slump. He felt dizzy, weak, like all of his strength were stripped away, leaving him an empty shell. He turns his head slowly, the tears already flowing down his cheeks in an endless trickle to meet the woman’s sullen gaze. This wasn’t happening! Not yet! Lucy was fine today! Fine!! He wanted to scream! But his throat was closed up, choking back the sobs that wanted to break free.

“Oh honey,” the woman wraps her arms around her son and pulls him tightly against her chest. “I’m so sorry,” her own tears flowing freely and hitting his face. “Don’t give up hope, they were able to save her, but she’s been placed in a medically induced coma.”

It couldn’t be true! Why weren’t his cries coming out?! Natsu’s voice refused to make a sound and all he could do was weep. It hurt so much! His fists clench at his stiffened sides. This wasn’t fair!

“Let it out son, don’t hold it in,” she coos, doing her best to soothe the pain. “They believe she didn’t suffer because it happened while she was asleep, that should give you a bit of comfort.”

No, it doesn’t! She was still in a coma! He’d almost lost her! And, “I-I never g-got to s-say good... good…” he couldn’t finish it. What if she never woke up again? Natsu’s heart ached at the thought he may never again hear her beautiful laughter or that silly snort she would sometimes make when he teased her. This world was too cruel to do this to a woman who should be in college, starting the next stage of her life. A fit of sobs racks his body, ‘I never got to tell her I love her…’

“Would you like me to drive you there, son?”

“Yes, please mom, i-if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.”

Natsu paused in front of the closed door to Lucy’s new room, unsuccessfully preparing himself for what he knew he would find behind it. On the way to the hospital, his mother had filled in a few more details that tore the man up and brought a wave of guilt flooding over him. Had he caused the heart attack?

The heart monitor alarms had gone off only 30 minutes after he had left her for the evening, and the doctors wasted no time in implementing emergency resuscitative efforts. They deemed it a miracle, but after 10 minutes of herculean efforts they were able to get her heart restarted. Lucy was then moved to the ICU unit and placed on other machines such as a feeding tube and ventilator to keep her alive.

Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed her to see the infants after all. Maybe the crying had stressed her out and neither of them had known it. She seemed perfectly fine when he’d left! Happy, in fact, happier than he’d seen in a long time. Natsu’s fingers absentmindedly trail over the area she had kissed. Lucy was at peace when he’d left. His mom told him her sudden fatigue may have been a sign. Or maybe he clenches his jaw, that kiss was her way of saying goodbye, like she knew something might happen once she’d closed her eyes. The way she’d grabbed his hand when he tried to leave…. “Fuck!” he grits outs as the tears pool in his bloodshot eyes again. “I shouldn’t have left her…”

He pushes the door open and his knees buckle instantly at the sight. Tubes… all the tubes, and monitors, the beeping and lights, bright flashing lights of the stat graphs, subcutaneous fluids hooked to her arms, the drips… slow drips of liquid and medicine flowing into Lucy’s body. He wasn’t ready for it. Her beautiful face partially hidden by the feeding tube running into her mouth and the breathing tubes entering her nostrils. If it wasn’t for his mother standing at his side, Natsu would have collapsed to the floor when his legs lose all their strength and crumple. The woman guides him to a chair placed beside the bed.

“Oh god, Lucy!” The tears pour out and sobs take control of his body. He throws his upper body over hers, clutching desperately to the blanket covering her, and burying his face into its folds. Natsu felt a part of his soul die right then and there. “You don’t deserve this,” his muffled words stolen by the fabric. Why couldn’t they find her a heart?!

“Son,” Natsu feels his mother’s hand resting on his shoulder, but he doesn’t respond. “Son, there’s no telling how long Lucy will stay in this state, so it’s best you say your goodbyes now. They say that people can hear you even if they are in a coma.”

But all he can do is shake his head fervently, denying it to the world and himself that Lucy wouldn’t come out of this. He had hope, damn it! Natsu refused to say goodbye because that meant he’d given up hope Lucy would recover somehow.

The woman seemed to understand her son’s frustration and didn’t push. “Then, just talk to her son, let her know you’re here.”

“Mom, could you… I wanna be alone, please?”

“I’ll come back in an hour to take you home.”

Natsu just nods in response. He hears the door open and close, the click of the lock like the final latch being set on a coffin, sealing them to their fate. He’d known the dangers of giving his heart to Lucy and yet despite what was happening, still had no regrets. She deserved the peace of knowing someone loved her, and if this really was the last moments, Natsu could have that tiny measure of satisfaction knowing he was the one who had provided it to her.

“But you’re not gonna die yet, Luce. You can’t, do you hear me, you can’t! It’s not your time yet, so you need to fight for me please…” Oh, how his heart was shattering into a million pieces as if he was the one with the problem. It fucking hurt! Emotional daggers stabbing him in the chest repeatedly. “You’re stronger than this, Lucy! I know it, you’re gonna wake up from this!”

By the time his mother returns an hour later, the sheer exhaustion had consumed Natsu. She finds him passed out, and it takes a bit of begrudging effort to get him to leave Lucy’s bedside. He was so afraid to leave again in case she passed away, because he didn’t want her to die alone. It was his mother that coaxed him into believing that she wasn’t alone as long as he kept her in his heart.

Day after day, week after week, became a never-ending cycle of zombiesque activity. Natsu’s body was there, trudging through routine, but his mind was broken, battling between keeping hope alive and giving up. He went to work, did his job, then headed to the hospital. It got to where the staff had placed a spare bed in the room, and he practically lived in the ICU with Lucy. He was lucky that his mother was a long-time nurse and he a volunteer with an impeccable standing that the hospital allowed him to bend the visitor hour rules. They knew the woman was alone in this world, so maybe they also felt a sense of duty to become that family for her, because nobody deserved to die alone.

He grew obsessed with anything to do with her condition and used the lonely hours to scour the internet for information. Sure, much of the stories about coma patients being able to hear weren’t really solid or verifiable, but any glimmer of possibilities was worth the effort. It couldn’t hurt to try. Whether it was telling her about his day or what was happening in their town, Natsu would keep talking. He bought a kindle and read stories he thought she would like, fantasies of princes saving princesses filled with mythical creatures. He remembered her saying she used to write such stories and wished he had been able to read them.

When he was too tired to read, or his throat was too sore to continue, Natsu wrote her letters. The staff and his family were getting worried about Natsu. So, the hospital’s mental health service counselor had come in one day and spoke to him on the off chance that they could get through to him. While he refused to listen to most of the advice, he found the writing to be helpful. Maybe when Lucy awakens, she could read them. But for now, it was one way he could pour out some of his thoughts in silence.

He was always tired and exhausted, pushing himself through this day-to-day routine, sometimes forgetting to eat. Concerned staff would often pop their heads in to check on him to make sure he had or scolded him when the hours grew late and they knew he needed to work the next day. His bloodshot eyes held dark bags under them, and his mother swore he was losing weight. But he would always push them off saying he was fine.

“No, you are not son. As a mother I am supremely proud to know I raised a son who cares this much, but I don’t want to lose you too.”

“And you’re not, I’m perfectly healthy.”

“You know as well as I stress is harmful to the body.”

Natsu sighs and runs a hand over his face, “mom, I’m fine, I even cut back on work hours to make you happy.”

“And I appreciate the gesture, but you’re still working, just here!”

“Mom, I’m fine! Please, just leave me be, I-I don’t want to fight. I just want… I’m not leaving her. End of discussion.”

His mother sighs, knowing that her stubborn boy would not listen. “Just please, Natsu, eat more, get more sleep, do it for me.”

“Okay, okay, I will.”

“I love you, son.”

“I love you too, mom.”

She kisses his forehead and turns to leave, taking one last look at her boy, and to Lucy. Grandeeney Dragneel pauses with a bittersweet smile as Natsu resumed reading quietly from his Kindle. Somehow, she knew that young girl loved her son back, and it broke her heart to know they were like those star-crossed lovers from a long-lost folktale, never destined to truly be together. She liked Lucy. The girl was smart and sweet, very articulate whenever she visited during her rounds, and her strength through this all was remarkable. Even after being dealt such a cruel hand by fate, she never grew bitter or resentful. Her son couldn’t have fallen for a better girl. Grandeeney slips away quietly before the moisture building in her eyes could be seen by Natsu, bracing against the closed door, and praying for a miracle.

Is this that tunnel people talk about? Lucy wonders as all she could see through her eyelids is the brightest light that seemed just too brilliant to be normal. Her eyes hurt a little from it, but if this was heaven, why is there still pain? She forces her lids open and tries to shield them with her hand that… doesn’t seem to move, huh? But it wasn’t just her arm, her entire body felt heavy. The images filtering in through her vision were blurry, slowly gaining focus as her pupils adjust to the light to see, wait, ceiling tiles? Why does heaven look so much like a hospital?

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Lucy looks over and sees a doctor standing beside her. “Where am I?” Or more like why am I here?

“Do you remember the heart attack?” She shakes her head. “You’ve been in a coma for two months after you suffered a massive heart attack. But luckily, a local donor came through...” He goes on to explain about the surgery telling her that the transplant surgery went well, her body was accepting the new heart, and while she’ll still be going through three to six months or rehabilitation and monitoring, she was on track to make a full recovery.

“Oh-okay, thank you so much, doctor.” It was a miracle to be alive again with a new heart. But something felt wrong, missing?

“I’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you again Ms. Heartfilia, but if anything feels off in the meantime, be sure to ring the nurses.” He moves to leave, but she stops him.

“Doctor, the donor, can you tell me about them, please?”

The man hesitates for a moment. “Well Ms. Heartfilia, privacy laws don’t allow me to….”

“You don’t have to tell me their name or anything. Please, just a little information. I’d like to know who saved my life.”

The man sighs and takes the seat next to the bed, clearly torn with what he was about to say. “He was a young volunteer at the hospital who tragically fell asleep at the wheel and passed away from a car accident…”

The doctor's voice droned on for another minute as he tried to reassure her that the man didn’t suffer. It was quick and painless from a one-car crash. As if that was supposed to make her feel any better. Lucy didn’t need to be told the name as tears poured down her cheeks, because she knew. She just knew. That was what was missing, for she knew that if she’d had received the new heart, Natsu would have been the one by her side when she’d woken up… unless he could be there. With all the wires attached to her arm, she could barely move them without the sting of the I.V. lines, but she didn’t care. Lucy’s hands cover her lowered face as the tears continue to stream.

“I’m very sorry, Ms. Heartfilia. Would you like me to have someone from mental health support to come see you?”

Lucy shakes her head. She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t even think.

“Mrs. Dragneel would also like to speak to you when you’re up to it.”

More tears and sobs choke out. Oh god that was Natsu’s mom, how could she face Natsu’s mother!

Seeing the woman’s distress, the man nods and squeezes her shoulder, “Again, I’m truly sorry Ms. Heartfilia. We all miss him very much. Please try to get some rest,” and leaves the woman to grieve in her own way.

Her head was spinning. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this! Why was destiny such a malicious bastard to take away the one person she had and leave her in this world all alone? Lucy clasps a hand over her chest, recalling the last conversation, that last night with Natsu. She squeezes her eyes to the pain of the memories… He’d made her so happy… so very happy, and yes, she remembered thinking for the first time since her diagnosis; she didn’t feel alone anymore. Fuck if she didn’t want to just keel over again, but that would mar the beautiful gift that she’s received. Natsu believed with every fiber of his being that she would walk out of here one day and she will live on for him, that’s a promise. “Our heart,” Lucy breathes out… But how ironic that he was right all along. She really did steal his heart in the cruelest of ways…

#nalu #nalu angst #nalu au #natsu dragneel #Lucy heartfilia #fairytail #nalu fan fic #nalu fan fiction #bittersweet ending #story request #uzumaki2810 #natsu x lucy #au modern setting #hospital setting

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fierysafrina · 4 years

Text

It’s for them | Saeran x reader

Fandom: Mystic Messenger Rating: General Word Count: 2.800 Genre: Hurt | slight Comfort | Angst Summary: You tried, only to fail, so you did the only thing you could think of. Notes: I got this idea yesterday while listening to my sad playlist on YT and yeah.. I’m sorry asdfghjkl

There are also spoilers for those who haven’t played it yet or didn’t caught up with it.

Rika. That was the only name you read constantly. Rika this; Rika that. You should have expected this, hell, you did with how they reacted when you joined the chat. To say that it didn’t hurt, would be a blunt lie. It hurt, always being compared to someone that wasn’t there anymore. But you couldn’t tell them that. Not when they were still grieving.

“Are you okay?” Saeyoung’s voice woke you from your thoughts.

You blinked and looked at him, forcing a smile on your lips. “Peachy.”

It was funny how easy it had become to lie; to smile while deep down you want nothing more but to yell at them that you’re not her. But before you can, you pinch yourself hard or make a fist, knuckles turning white from it.

Saeyoung narrowed his eyebrows, worry visible in his eyes. “I’m here if you need me. So is everyone else.”

They think I’m her. What makes you think they’ll listen? “I’m fine, Saeyoung.”

He doesn’t believe you, but doesn’t push you. His lips pursued into a thin line as he nodded and excused himself.

Of course, You thought to yourself. You were at the party, your second party you were responsible for, with all members. You were looking around, arms crossed over your chest as you took in everyone’s expressions, actions. They were happy, glad, some slightly picky, but everything went as it should go. That made you feel better. Even if just slightly.

A small smile dared to spread across your lips, but it disappeared as quickly as it came when you spotted Jihyun in the crowd. You stilled, eyes widening as you watched him greet guests when he stopped beside Jumin. They exchanged a couple of words until his gaze fell on you. Your first reaction was to turn away. The next was you walking away, leaving the hall.

“I’m sorry…” Jihyun spoke quietly. “I care for you a lot.”

And there’s always a ‘but’.

You knew you couldn’t run away from him. Not when he’s the head of RFA.

You both stood on the balcony – both facing the city.

“How have you been?” Jihyun was the first to break the silence.

“Alright,” Your voice was quiet. “And you?” you glanced at him from the side.

“I…” he hesitated and an unsettling feeling spread inside you. “She’s alive…”

You weren’t sure when you went wrong. You did everything you could. You followed their suggestions, thought of their reasoning, always taking them in consideration. You poured your heart out to them and yet it didn’t seem enough. Jaehee was still suspicious of you, always against you whenever you and Zen talked of his relationship. Saeyoung still ran a background check on you, just in case; to make sure. Yoosung always managed to mention her, comparing what you achieved to her; what he wished for you to do instead. It only seemed that Zen and Jumin were the only ones that stood by your side, but the longer you knew them, their true colours quickly came through; they never argued against them, always staying silent.

Eventually you reached out to Jihyun, admitting your feelings for him only to be rejected. You couldn’t blame anyone but yourself for doing it at the worst time possible. He was still grieving for her death, so you did the only thing you could; you distanced yourself from everyone.

You refused any meeting with the members unless it was related to the party. You rarely went online if it weren’t for the party. There was always that constant reminder for you to do better, to be like her. It was funny how someone, who wasn’t there anymore, could take a toll on you. You felt rather glad you managed to convince both Saeyoung and Jihyun to remove the cameras inside the apartment and only have protection on the hallway. It was a gamble you dared to take. That way Saeyoung couldn’t see inside; couldn’t see the breakdown you went through every day.

Hearing Jihyun telling you that she was very much alive was the final blow. You were speechless as Jihyun admitted that she was alive this whole time along with her story as to why it came this far. You couldn’t do anything other than listen and he asked—begged you to not tell anyone, especially Yoosung. It hurt you and you had trouble breathing, but you still forced a smile and promised him you won’t tell a single soul. You couldn’t leave the party earlier, not without a good reason, not when you were the coordinator, the main guest of the party.

Glass after a glass of wine you drank until you felt arms holding for your elbow. You wanted to cry, you wanted to leave, but you were stuck there. Jumin and Saeyoung were both forward enough to tell you that you couldn’t leave the organisation without certain consequences even if Jihyun never said it directly. This whole place was suffocating.

A voice called out for your name and you turned your head to see a replica of Saeyoung but with blue eyes and white hair with pink tips.

Your chuckle was hollow when you pushed him away. “’m not for your games, S’ven…” You mumbled.

He snorted, but he grabbed for your elbow once again, his grip just a bit tighter. “I’m not him, princess.”

His voice was different than Saeyoung’s. Narrowing your eyebrows, you tried to free yourself once again, but winced at the pain that spread where he was holding you. “I-it hurts…” you whimpered, eyes growing teary.

“Now it hurts?” He mused and leaned closer to your face. There was something odd about him and a moment later, his tight grip lessened, his gentleness coming forth. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, expression turning softer. He raised his other hand and caressed your cheek. “Come with me, [Name]…”

It was so loud, so so loud, yet you still heard yourself speaking; “Why?”

He blinked before a smile spread across his lips. A chill ran down your spine at the sight of it. “You don’t need to be beside someone, who doesn’t care for you.” He stated, his smile widening when he saw you flinch. You averted your gaze, eyes immediately falling on Jihyun, who was busy talking with Jumin and Rui. “They don’t care if you go home now or later. They just wanted to see you appear, to see you’re okay so they can continue to delusion themselves that you’re Rika.” Your eyes widened at the name. How did he know about her? “But I? I know you’re not her after all it was me, who led you to them.”

Your head snapped his way, eyes growing even wider. You gulped and took a step back. “Y-U-Unknown?” you stuttered and you realized you were shaking.

“One and only.”

You looked around, for the members only to see them all chatting without a care in the world. It felt like a bucket of cold water poured on you. They really didn’t care for you. They just wanted someone to fill her place, to pretend that she was still there.

“You know, I really started to feel bad for you.” His voice was abnormally close, and you found him standing behind you. His hands ran up your arms, sending another wave of chills down your spine. “If I knew how badly they’d treat you, I’d take you for myself instead. I always kept a close eye on you. Was always there, hearing your confession, seeing your breakdown, seeing you distancing yourself from them.” His warm breath brushed against your ear as you stared at Jihyun, begging in your head for him to look your way. Just once.

“I know where Rika is.”

Something was odd about that sentence, but you couldn’t bring yourself to question him.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bring you to her.” He continued and you unconsciously leaned into him. “I learnt to become independent just so I can protect you. She doesn’t know that, doesn’t know I’m here to get you to safety instead. I’d care for you, like they can’t. I’d give you anything you want. Anything but them. You don’t want them beside you. They only care for themselves, for their needs. You don’t need those kinds in your life.”

You gulped and forced yourself to look at him. Your noses brushed for a split second, with you being the first to pull away. “I can’t.” you shook your head.

“Why?”

A simple question that took you by surprise.

“Then let me propose something.” He continued. “We leave right now and if by the end of the party anyone notices, you can stay. If not …” he trailed off and you looked at Zen, who was standing beside Yoosung and Jaehee, the three talking to each other, looking ever so friendly. “Hm?” he hummed, smiling softly. “Want to bet?”

You weren’t sure why you agreed when you already knew the answer.

Unknown reached out his hand and you put yours on top of his. He held it rather gently and led you towards doors. Just before you left, you turned back inside and saw Saeyoung looking at you. Your eyes widened, heart almost missing a beat that maybe you won’t get far. That maybe they actually cared for you. That just maybe Unknown is wrong and that you won’t have a reason to leave.

Who were you kidding? It was already past midnight, but you stood near the building. Your eyes were teary as you refused to cry. Unknown stood not too far away, watching you closely. You were holding your phone in your hand, gripping it tight.

Not once did you get a message.

Not once did anyone call you.

A tear streamed down your cheek, but you quickly wiped it away when you spotted Jaehee and Jumin leaving the building. Jihyun wasn’t too far behind and the three talked for a while more. You spotted Yoosung, Zen and Saeyoung left earlier, neither of them bothering to search for you.

“See?” Unknown spoke, walking to your side. “Aren’t they cruel? They depended on you so much and you gave them everything. You left behind your family, relatives, just so you can appease them. You gave them your whole free time. But what do they do when you’re in need?” He reached his hand forward and held yours. “They don’t care that you left earlier.”

Closing your eyes, you turned his way and Unknown was quick to embrace you. You don’t know what to say. You expected this outcome. Yet there was still a smaller part of you that hoped you were wrong.

How disappointed you were at yourself for thinking this way.

How funny it was when you appeared in front of them months later. They were visibly distraught, dark circles beneath their eyes, but the relief you saw in them made you want to laugh. And you did. You laughed before Unknown stopped beside you. You saw how Saeyoung and Jihyun’s eyes widened, neither wanting to believe. He wrapped an arm around your lower back and pulled you closer to his side, nuzzling his nose in the crook of your neck.

“W-what’s going on?” Zen stuttered, looking from you to Unknown, uncertain.

You tilted head to the side, but looked at Unknown – or should you say Saeran – who smirked instead. “What should we do, Saeran?” you asked.

“Throw each of them into a room? Lock them in the basement?” Saeran thought aloud.

Your lips turned upwards in a smile and it widened when you spotted Jaehee and Yoosung shiver. “Aw, is Yoosungie scared?” you cooed and leaned down, grabbing his chin tight. He flinched at your contact.

“Stop it!” Jihyun called, but you didn’t look at him.

You continued to stare at Yoosung.

Saeyung called for your name, but it fell on deaf ears. “Why are you doing this?” he looked at you and then at Saeran. “H-how? Why?”

“Shush, darling,” You murmured, sparing him a glance before you looked back at Yoosung. “Should I call Rika to comfort you?” It was so quiet in the room that you could cut air with a knife. A smirk grew on your lips and you gripped your hold on his chin, making him wince. You couldn’t miss how hopeful his eyes became.

“W-what do you mean by that?” Zen whispered. “Rika is… Rika is dead.”

Releasing Yoosung’s chin, you straightened and looked at him. “What? Don’t you know?” You scoffed, walking to Jihyun, whose eyes were wide from fear and regret, like he wanted to apologize to you. “Rika is very much alive.”

“She can’t be!” Saeyoung exclaimed.

“Why are you doing this?” Jihyun asked.

You could see how afraid he looked. Not just him. But everyone as well. How funny it was when they tried to appear strong only for their body and eyes telling different stories.

“Why?” you scoffed. “I’m not Rika.” You began. They looked confused. “Even after spending those two months with you, you still treated me like some outsider. You didn’t trust me, then again why should you.” You glared at Saeyoung, who gulped. “You saw me leaving, but did nothing. I waited for your call, message, anything, but I got it quickly. I was only Rika’s replacement.”

“No!” Jihyun exclaimed, shaking his head. “You weren’t!”

You looked at him. “You say that now,” you scowled; “but who was the one that told me she was still alive?”

All eyes turned on Jihyun.

Realization dawned on you. The corners of your lips turned into a smirk. “You didn’t tell them?” you raised an eyebrow before you took a step back. “I’ve decided.” You turned to Saeran, who was looking at you. “Why don’t we tie them and put them all together into a basement? Wouldn’t it be marvellous to see them argue, but be unable to do more?” You reached for his hand that he took without hesitation and intertwined your fingers.

“That does sound like a marvellous idea.” Saeran agreed. He turned his head and looked at the guards that stood by the door. “Tie them in the basement.”

Without a word, the men went into action.

“Wait!” Yoosung called.

You looked at him.

“Where’s Rika?” he asked, eyes wide, begging to you. “Where’s my cousin? I want to see her!”

You turned your head, ignoring his calls. Jumin, who was quiet the whole time, was the last to leave. But before they managed to walk him out of the room, you stopped them. Saeran looked at you confused and Jumin noticed the quick exchange with your eyes, assuring him it was okay. You walked over to the man and for a moment Jumin could see sadness in your eyes. It confused him.

“I’m sorry.”

It took you off guard. “It’s kind of too late, don’t you think?” you sighed, stopping in front of him. “You and Zen were …” you averted your gaze.

“I know,” Jumin nodded. “We’re as much to blame as everyone else.”

“Glad to know we’re on the same side.”

“That still doesn’t excuse your actions for doing this.”

“What do you expect me to do?” you glared at him. “I tried to gain your trust. I tried to be someone you can call a friend. It’s only been two months after I joined, but not once have either you or Zen stood up for me. Always remaining quiet, passive.” You hissed. “I tried, but I’m not her. I’m not Rika.”

Realization seemed to dawn on Jumin, because his eyes widened.

“But when Saeran came?” You continued with a softer voice, which he noticed as well. “He was always there for me. Pulling me back up when I was struggling. He helped me, by showing me I don’t have to be someone else. I can still be me and succeed.”

“Succeed in what?” Jumin asked, narrowing his eyebrows.

You caressed his cheek, tilting head to the side and smiled. There were screams that reached you, making Jumin still. “We can help you be rid of her oppression. Soon, you won’t be under her charm anymore. I can help you.”

“[Name]!” Jumin called when he was pulled out of the room. “Stop this madness! This isn’t you!”

Your smile only widened as you relished in the screams. Saeran walked to you, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Where is she?”

“She’ll be joining them after they receive the punishment they deserve.” He answered. “Just a bit more and we’ll be able to help them.”

Your shoulders slumped, feeling relief wash over. Saeran leaned in and pressed a kiss on top of your head.

“You’re doing well, my love. You must be strong, to show them how deep under her wraps they’ve been.”

“Yes,” you nodded agreeing; “after all, everything is for them.”

#Saeran Choi #Mystic Messenger #Saeran x reader #oneshot #safrinawrites

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lykaokrios · 3 years

Text

Predestined Sea - F!De Sardet x Vasco: Part 2

Fandom: Greedfall

Paring: Captain Vasco x F!De Sardet

Word Count: 2,616

Description: Larke De Sardet knew there was always a chance her uncle would use her as leverage in some arranged marriage. What she hadn't expected was for it to be a contract marriage with the Nauts, leaving her married to a young Captain she'd never met.

AU Where the events of the game didn't happen, she is actually the daughter of the Princess, and she's not going to New Serene (at least not yet). I gave her a name because it's going to fit into the story at later points, and I just want her to have an actual first name :)

(Poem that Vasco quotes : Beyond The Sea By Thomas Love Peacock Poem that De Sardet quotes: From The Sea by Sara Teasdale)

Warnings: Mild swearing, though AU may be some spoiler stuff

My AO3

Part 1

Vasco sighs and drums his fingers on the table before him, earning a pointed look from his Admiral beside him. Pulling his hand back he glances around the extravagantly decorated meeting room and shifts in his seat.

He typically kept on top of his own personal hygiene, but he’d been warned enough about the noble expected level of it and felt like he’d nearly scrubbed his skin off to remove all traces of ship life in preparation. While he wasn’t looking forward to this, he wasn’t going to be the reason an opportunity for his family fell through. Even if it meant scrubbing harder than he had in his entire life, tying his hair back tighter than he thought possible, and sitting in a brand-new starched Captain’s uniform.

As he looks around he catches his reflection in a fancy mirror. It was odd seeing himself so… ‘distinguished,’ particularly the lack of hat, but he had to admit he cleaned up well.

The sound of an angry voice and approaching footsteps snaps his attention to the door across the room. He can hear harsh whispers being exchanged on the other side of it, but he’s only able to make out the word ‘repercussions’ before the sound of a loud smack echoes into the room, and the door swings open to reveal the smiling Prince.

“Admiral Cabral, Captain Vasco, so glad you could join us today,” he greets them warmly as he steps into the room, reaching back to tug in a young woman behind him. “I’m delighted to present to you my niece, Larke Da Sardet, daughter of Princess d’Orsay.”

“Enchanted to meet you both,” Larke states immediately, with what seems to be a forced smile on her face.

“Likewise,” the Admiral responds from beside him. “We’ve heard much about you from your uncle.”

“Charmed,” Vasco simply replies, quickly examining her. Hair tied back into a long braid, beautiful blue green eyes, a forced smile, hand clamped over a spot on her arm, and what looks like ink stains on her fingertips.

Her uncle directs her to sit across from him as he sits before the Admiral. As they begin to discuss more details of the contract, Vasco finds himself still gazing at Larke in front of him.

There definitely was something different about her, not like most nobles he’d come into contact with. She seemed to hold herself in a different way. The way her jaw was set, the look in her eyes.

With the way she leaned away from the Prince, she was clearly not comfortable around him. Not that he could blame her from what he thought occurred in the hall. Probably what her one hand seemed intent on covering.

Eventually she seems to have felt his gaze, and meets his eyes, a flush moving up her neck as they do. He gives her a gentle smile, one she slowly returns.

“Would the two of you like to go for a walk in the palace to get to know one another?” the Prince offers, his voice immediately making them drop their eye contact.

Vasco clears his throat and looks to the Prince, forcing a smile to his own face, “That would be lovely.”

“Larke, be a dear and show him around the palace,” the Prince states, looking to his niece. “We will cover the rest of these details without you. Nothing inappropriate from either of you.”

“I’d be delighted uncle,” she responds, immediately standing up from her seat.

Vasco follows suit, and walks out from behind the table and offers his arm to her. She accepts it after a moment and they walk through the door.

After they hear the sound of the door shutting behind them, Vasco exhales deeply. “Stuffy as shit in there.”

Larke immediately laughs, but quickly brings her free hand up to cover her mouth and stop her laughter, “I apologize sir. That wasn’t appropriate of me.”

“Laughter isn’t appropriate in the royal palace?” Vasco asks. “This place is more dire than I thought.”

Grinning at him she shakes her head wistfully. “Not when in earshot of the Prince or his dignitaries at least,” she whispers.

“Then let us get out of earshot of them shall we?” He asks.

She nods and leads him down another fancy hallway full of statues and paintings of the Prince himself.

“And nothing inappropriate,” Vasco chides. “As if I’m idiot enough to ask the Prince’s niece to show me the royal broom closet to paw at each other. I want to live to at least tomorrow.”

She chuckles at that but once again goes silent as they reach the end of the hall to a large window overlooking the garden.

“From the look of you, you aren’t usually this... subdued,” he mentions after a few moments.

She sighs heavily at that and responds back quietly, “This is important to my uncle. And if I do something to ruin it I will suffer. Typically I don’t spend much time under his thumb, my cousin, his son tends to be there while I live my own life in the background.”

“I can tell by your arm,” he says gently, his gaze flickering to the angry red handprint she’d previously covered with her hand.

She curses quietly under her breath and reaches up to cover it once again, “It would be good to forget you’ve seen that for these negotiations.”

“I understand,” he nods sadly. “From what I heard, you don’t want to marry me?”

“It’s not that... it’s just... I don’t know you yet,” Larke admits. “You dream of growing up, falling in love, and marrying that person. Then when you’re forced into something else...”

“You are a noble.”

“I know. My life is decided for me,” she smiles forcefully once again. “It’s the life I have.”

“What else did you dream about?”

Letting go of his arm, she places her hands on the window sill and stares out at the sky, “I’d run to the shore whenever I could as a child. Still do when I can get away with it. Especially at night. Staring up at the stars or out at the sea. I dreamed of exploring beyond this shore. Getting far away from all this and just… being who I wish to be. Silly dreams I suppose for who I’m supposed to be.”

“I don’t think they’re silly,” he comments, leaning forward to also place his hands on the window sill, their shoulders just barely touching. “Freedom of the sea isn’t silly.”

“I guess that’s your life though right?” She asks. “Sailing beyond the horizon to new places.”

“‘Beyond the sea, beyond the sea, the swallow wanders fast and free. Oh happy bird, were I like thee, I, too, would fly beyond the sea,’” he recites as he watches the garden staff below them.

Larke looks over to him with a mixed expression of surprise and interest, “A poem?”

“I- yes,” he admits with a nervous cough. “I like to read out at sea. Poetry is… I suppose beautiful is the best way to say it. Peaceful. I am not the most gifted at words, I appreciate what it does.”

“‘Yet when I heard your name the first far time, it seemed like other names to me, and I was all unconscious, as a dreaming river that nears at last its long predestined sea,’” she says after a moment.

His eyes widen at her words, he can feel a warm heat working its way up his cheeks as he looks at her, his mouth agape.

“I- I mean, it was the first poem of the sea that came to mind,” she stammers as an explanation. “I enjoy poetry as well.”

He clears his throat and pushes off the window still before extending his arm out to her again. She immediately accepts it but remains silent as they walk. “Contract not yet signed, and you are already trying to woo me with love poems of the sea, little bird?”

“I was not!” She objects, a flush going across her cheeks as she leans into him. “And little bird?”

“Your name is Larke is it not?” He asks as he glances down at her.

“It is.”

“A lark is a bird?”

“It is.”

“You are smaller than I am?”

“I am.”

“Little bird,” he concludes, his other hand reaching over to brush a stray hair from her face. “I quite like it.”

“I… So do you fight Vasco?” she asks, rapidly changing the subject.

“Fight? Of course I can fight.”

“Are you up for a duel?” She asks, tugging his arm to lead him into her sparring room, indicating at the barrel of wooden swords.

“We’re to be getting to know one another for marriage, and you wish to spar?” He grins and lets go of her arm to pull one out.

“I think I’ll learn quite a lot from this actually,” she teases.

“I suppose I will too, if you last more than two seconds lass.”

“I have trained Captain Vasco,” she informs him as she pulls her own sword out and twists it in her hands.

“Aye, you’ve trained but have you used the skills outside of these walls?”

“Not as much as I’d have liked,” she admits before rushing him, barely giving him enough time to throw his sword up to block her.

He raises a brow before taking a swipe at her himself, which she quickly parries and swings at his feet. He jumps out of the way of it easily but immediately has to parry another back at her.

They go blow for blow, parry for parry for what seems like an eternity before Larke commits too far to one side, and he kicks her feet out from under her. Kneeling down he places the wooden sword to her throat with a grin, “Do you yield lass?”

He can see practically she her brain trying to figure a way out, her eyes flickering to different parts of his body before finally sighing and admitting defeat. “You have won Captain Vasco.”

“One of the best duels I’ve had in a long time,” he admits as he steps back and offers her a hand to pull her up. As she climbs back to her feet, they’re interrupted by the sound of the training room door slamming open.

“Larke De Sardet! Come, now,” the Prince hisses, a look of panic crossing Larke’s face before she looks down and crosses the floor to him.

Vasco momentarily curses himself, realizing the state she’s in. Braid falling apart, her clothes wrinkled and dirty from the training room floor. He’s certain he isn’t in much of a better state if the hair now in his vision was anything to go by.

Standing back, he brushes off what he can off his own clothes, and reaches up to pull the tie from his hair and quickly fix it to the best of his ability as he listens to whispered angry words coming from the Prince.

When he noticed the man grab her wrist, he decides to intervene, stepping up next to them, “I have very much enjoyed my time getting to know Lady De Sardet, She kindly showed me her prowess in dueling and I was much impressed. When you’re traveling the seas going from port to port you never know when those type of skills will be necessary.”

Prince d’Orsay quickly lets go of her wrist and smiles, “Only the best from the royal family of course. She has been trained by an elite captain of the guard as her swords-master since she was a child.”

Vasco nods approvingly, his eyes glancing over at her rubbing her wrist, “It shows, she’s very skilled.”

“It is fortunate this time proved fruitful then.”

“Indeed. Has the the wedding date been discussed?” he asks as the Admiral looks into the room.

“It has!” The Prince announces happily. “We are discussing six months from now once you return from running goods to our city New Serene.”

“Yes of course.”

“Let us go formalize the the contract while Lady De Sardet goes to clean up and attends her lessons,” the Prince comments shuffling Vasco toward the door.

“She is not needed for the formalities?” he questions.

“My niece has graciously already stated what I decide is what she shall do,” the Prince states, looking toward Larke. “Correct my niece?”

“Yes sir, you would only choose the best for the Congregation and the family,” she says simply and coldly, all traces of the person he’d spent the last hour with gone.

“Then I’ll say goodbye to you now,” Vasco says, pulling away from the Prince and lifting Larke’s hand in his own. “I will be at the port until we set sail for New Serene, if you have need of me before then find me there. If not, I will see you when I return.” He lifts her hand to his lips and presses a kiss to it, sending her a quick wink and soft smile.

She returns his smile and bows her head to him before ducking out of the room.

“Now then, we can finish this business up,” The Prince says as he leads the Admiral and Vasco out and toward the room they met in.

“Green-blood!” a voice she knows all too well shouts to Larke as she hurries off. Sighing heavily, she turns on her heel to see Kurt leaning against a wall with his arms crossed.

“Yes Kurt?”

“Good try, but you still lost,” he comments.

“I- you saw that?” she stutters.

“Of course, I hear swords clashing in the training room I’m gonna look, didn’t expect to see you in there fighting with a Naut I gotta say,” he explains, giving her a questioning look. “The Prince said you’d be late for your lesson, so I was surprised you were in there at all.”

“My uncle is arranging a marriage between myself and the Naut Captain,” she explains, crossing her own arms. “I was meeting him today. It turned into a duel, and you saw the rest I suppose.”

“Meeting your future husband and you challenge him to a duel,” Kurt laughs and pushes himself off the wall. “I’ve certainly trained you to fight, but it sounds like your etiquette teacher went soft on you.”

“He said he showed him a lot about me,” she insists, a pout forming on his face.

“I’m sure it did green-blood, I’m sure it did,” he teases. “Now get your behind upstairs to change into proper training clothes and meet me back in the training room.

Opening her mouth to protest, Kurt holds up a hand to stop her, “You’re the one that just lost a duel right in front of me, makes me look bad as a swords-master. You have to run through drills again De Sardet.”

Sighing, she looks up at him, “You know you can just call me Larke right? You’ve known me long enough.”

“I’m your swords-master and bodyguard, not your friend. I’m not going to refer to you in a familiar way like that,” he says simply.

“Yeah sure, not my friend,” she rolls her eyes at him. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“How you see me is your own business,” he insists.

Reaching out to pat his arm she chuckles, “I know you’re about to put me through several terrible drills, but just accept that you are a friend to me. I don’t have many, but you are amongst them.”

“I… go get changed Larke, you have double drills now,” he responds, shaking his head with the hint of a smile on his lips.

__________

Part 1

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