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velvett-tearss · 3 years

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Black Tea & Blushes — L. Ackerman

summary: The two of you never got along, but there were times that even fire and ice made a perfect pair.

warnings: cursing, no spoilers for anything past early s1, Levi’s a little shit at first (surprise, surprise), mentions of blood (they’re fighting titans :-) lol) gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

genre: semi-canonverse, fluff, enemies to lovers (?)

word count: 3.3k

a/n: this was very self-indulgent lmao, sorry if it’s a bit messy 😭, <Hange, Connie & Sasha3 make an appearance bc I love them and you should too, hope you enjoy it <3

"Couldn't you have gotten a cadet to do this?"

You raised a sharp brow at the man, trying to keep yourself from flipping his desk over. "Would you have yelled at them like you just yelled at me?"

The man's grey eyes didn’t meet yours, but there was a scowl on his face. Despite his steely eyes, he didn't say anything back. Instead, he pursed his lips and turned back to continue his paperwork.

You huffed in an attempt to ground yourself after being yelled at for the past two minutes. You took a sip from your own cup of the tea you had prepared for him, letting yourself savor the taste.

"I don't understand." you said, tasting the earthy, black tea. "You said it was too cold last time, so I made sure it was extra warm. What's wrong with it? Is it too sour for you? I only added a few drops of lemon this time."

Levi remained silent, but you stood your ground, tapping your boot against the pavemented floor as you waited at his desk for an answer. You wouldn't let him win, not this time. Day after day, it seemed like he only grew ruder and ruder.

Your dislike for Levi Ackerman started the day you met him. He was still just a soldier when you joined the Survey Corp, and it wasn't long after that he become Captain.

He was mean, and he never seemed to care about anything, but God forbid you make a reckless move out in the field. It was as if all hell broke loose if you used a bit too much gas when slicing the nape of a Titan's neck.

"Not everyone is Humanity's Strongest." you had spat at him when he scolded you on the way back to the walls. That only earned you a glare, seeing as Hange managed to secure your safety. If it weren't for them, you were certain you would've gotten stuck with stable duty for a month's end.

You were glad he was nice to them, at least.

At some point, you got promoted to Captain as well. One would think that since you shared the same rank, he would grow warmer to you, but that was another one of your mistakes.

Everything about him rubbed you the wrong way, from his disagreeable manners to his awful way of speaking to soldiers. And, it was your disdain for him that got you stuck in this mess.

"A cadet could've done this." Levi stated again; you felt like you were being patronized. He raised a brow at you, holding the teacup in his hand. "A cadet could’ve made better tea than you.”

"Obviously not, Captain." you threw back sourly, snatching the cup from his hand. "A cadet could not have done this because if I hadn't interfered two weeks ago, who knows what you would've done to the poor man. And, all he did was make your tea wrong!”

Levi blinked at you, appearing bored with your conversation. "If you hadn't interfered, that soldier would be back with those good for nothing Military Police Officers doing what they're best at."

You gritted your teeth. "And, what are they good for, Captain Ackerman?”

His brow twitched slightly. “Absolutely nothing."

You let out a bitter laugh, placing the white ceramic teacups back on the tray you had brought in. "Now that you say it out loud, that reminds me a lot of someone I know."

"What an awful way to talk about yourself.” Levi threw back with ease.

The urge to roll your eyes at him was weighing on you, but you were stronger than the immaturity he seemed to bring out in you. "Captain, you must be growing old if you've already forgotten we're the same rank."

Your decision of keeping yourself calm in his presence payed to be of use when you noticed the slight pause in his pen strokes at your words.

But, you were well aware of how trustworthy Levi was in the sense that you knew he could always come back with something even worse than what he's told you before.

"If you were of any use, you would know what's wrong with your tea. I'm sure even King Fritz could tell good tea from awful tea, and he's the most useless of them all." Levi told you, pen moving over the papers in front of him swiftly.

"He could probably also tell a grown man from a spoiled brat," you told him, taking the tray with you as you left his office. "But, you make even that task seem impossible."

You had to stop the triumphant grin from growing on your face when you heard his faint scoff from the other side of the wooden door.

Even if you managed to snag the last word of that argument, it didn’t feel as good as it usually did. The only reason you involved yourself in Levi Ackerman’s nightly tea was because 1) you didn’t like the way he spoke to the poor soldier who got stuck with job of handling it, and 2) Erwin asked that you try and be a bit nicer to your fellow captain.

You only did it to keep your job, really, and you would never let your Commander think less of you, even if he did favor Levi. Even Hange had tried to coax you into not letting The Ackerman’s sharp tongue get to you, but that didn’t seem to work.

Levi and you would never be friends, if that’s what Erwin meant when he pulled you aside at supper a few nights before. It was a lie to say you didn’t admire the man’s impressive skills, because you did.

But, admiration and respect were two separate things.

The two of you were jagged edges of broken glass that didn’t fit together, and that was perfectly fine. You didn’t mind being Levi being a sharp piece of glass, just as long as he kept his corners to himself and far from you.

Erwin, as observant as usual, caught on to the solution to your problem, and he even made sure you and Levi would rarely ever cross paths when the Scouts were out on an expedition. The two of you worked on opposite sides of the formation.

The only time you would ever work together would be if there were no other options, but both of you were reliable in your own senses: him with his... whatever he called it, and you with your wits.

You didn't mind being farthest from him, and if it were up to you, you'd go even farther.

“Hey, you got new glasses.” you stated, noticing the new pair of brown frames that Hange wore the morning as the Scouts waited for the signal to begin the expedition.

“Oh, don’t remind me.” they said with a frown, holding the glasses in their hands. “Last night, Moblit and I were doing some research, and someone must’ve stolen my glasses because I couldn’t find them this morning.”

“Stole? Isn’t that a big accusation?”

They let out a hearty laugh. “It is! That’s why I’m saying it!” Hange replied, golden eyes widened at you in exasperation. “I’ve been stuck with these, and they’re too big for my face. All they do is fall off.”

“So maybe don’t wear them?” you wondered as you caught a glimpse of the dark head of hair you knew too well. “What’ll you do if you lose them out in the field? Better safe than sorry.”

“I wish, but I’m as blind as a bat without them.” Hange reasoned with a sigh before quickly composing themselves. “But, now that you mention it, I never did mind a challenge.”

The smirk growing on their face was one you didn’t quite like. Before you could talk some sense into them (if that were even possible) the signal went off to begin the mission.

They gave a wide smile and a thumbs up as a good luck token. "Don’t do anything crazy!” you called out when the two of you parted ways, taking your squad with you. “I mean it, Hange!”

Hange waved you off, charging in faster in their horse. It was up to poor Moblit to chase right after them.

Your squad remained close together for the majority of the mission. There wasn't much to do on your end of things, which was a relief. At some point, you decided to stop for a quick break before pushing forward.

If you were able to see five mintues into the future, you would never have let your squad talk you into taking a lunch break. Just as you were relaxing a bit, there was an Abnormal coming from the thick trees.

Your sense of smell wasn't as skilled as Miche, and if it weren't for one of the younger cadets on your squad who had a keen sense of hearing, you all would've been Titan food.

It didn't take long for you to spring into action, your squad following suit. You made sure to use the plans Erwin had issued out on previous Scout meetings.

When the Abnormal finally made it to where you and your squad stopped, the beastly creature managed to catch one of your soldiers in midair. As the young boy was raised in the air, his stomach couldn't contain his recent lunch.

Gravity works in wonders, you thought when his earlier lunch fell onto you with a splat! You couldn't blame the poor boy; it was better upstairs than downstairs. As terrible a feeling it was to have chunky vomit all over you, you knew it would be as even worse feeling if the boy died under your care.

Your squad got to him before any damage was permanent, at least physically. When the killing blow was done, you tended to your soldier. He muttered out apologies for having thrown up on you, but you were merely in the line of fire.

"It's okay, Connie." you reassured him after pulling off your green cape that had been soiled in aid to shield you. “I’d rather it be your lunch on me than your organs.”

You ordered that he ride with your other cadet, Sasha. He let out a pained laugh at your words, leaning against her on her horse. She scolded him for “wasting so much food,” to which lead to their silly banter, which you didn’t mind as long as they were safe.

As unfortunate as it was, that incident wasn't the last of it. There wasn't much time between Connie getting his ribs crushed by a Titan and the numerous amount of red flares that were being shot into the air. The amount of red powder in the sky was enough to cast a shadow of worry over you.

By the time your squad made it to where the red flares had been signaled, it was a mess. Abnormal and Pure Titans were ambushing the rest of whatever was left of the Survey Corp. Your squad wasted no time in following your orders as you made a beeline for the trees where a group of Abnormals were huddled together.

When you finally got a good look at the scene in the forest, your sight was met with Titan smoke and blood of fallen comrades. It was a disaster, as it always was. But you knew, where there was smoke, there was definitely fire.

And, that fire was Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

He looked ablaze, nothing but a flash in the distance. Slicing Titan limbs as if they were merely flowers in his way, Levi Ackerman was kicking ass. It was in moments like this — where he looked like the answer to all the prayers of the people inside the walls — that you wondered if you truly hated him all along.

“Section Commander!” Moblit cried, chasing after Hange as they swung on the highest tree of the forest. It seemed as though they forgot all about how loose their glasses were as they did a number of twirls in the air. His voice was enough to snap you out of your trance and assist your fellow comrades.

You managed to fight off three Pure Titans and two Abnormals for what seemed like forever. It might’ve been even worse if not for Connie Springer’s lunch all over you that acted as Titan Repellant.

Perhaps you would tell Hange of your new discovery, but every time you managed to get close to them while fighting off the Titans, all they did was badger you with questions upon questions.

“Are you sure you haven’t you seen them?!” Hange cried for the fifth time, eyes squinted at you from their branch opposite you. Moblit was fighting off a creepy Abnormal with ugly teeth a few feet from you.

“No, I haven’t! And, didn’t I tell you your glasses would fall if you took them with you?!” you shouted back from your place on the tree before taking a breath to try to slice the neck of your second Pure Titan. “Go back to the wagon, Hange, before you get yourself killed!”

They huffed and puffed, but they let Moblit guide them to the wagon to wait until the rest of the Scouts could find a moment to retreat back to the walls.

After finally slicing the nape of your final Titan, you looked over to where you had last seen Levi. Only, he was nowhere to be found. A panic set in when you couldn’t find any sight of him.

“Captain?” you called out from your place on a tree branch where you were catching your breath. You squinted your eyes to get a farther look, but it didn’t help that much. “Captain Ackerman, are you there? Do you—”

But, that’s when you felt a jostle of wind hit your back. You turned quickly to see the dark-haired man swinging through the trees, holding an unconscious Oluo.

You followed him, figuring if you took his squad member off his hands that Levi would have a better chance of taking down more Titans. Maybe even with a man who weighed far more than himself in his hands, Levi could still have a better chance than you.

“Captain, I’ve got him. I’ll take—”

But, Levi wouldn’t budge. It was like he wasn’t listening to you, and you didn’t know if it was by choice or coincidence. You huffed and rushed quicker to help him in carrying Oluo.

Maybe it was just your luck, or maybe it was just his, but right before you managed to reach him, a Titan’s jaw came from below him, wide and ready for lunchtime.

There was nothing for him to do, not with his hands full. Surely he knew that from the way his grey eyes finally broke through from that awful void he’d placed you in, the one where all you ever got from him was scoldings and insults and cold stares that often made you wonder if he actually did hate you.

And, for the first time, you saw panic flash through his grey eyes, his life flash before his eyes.

“Levi!” you cried, using the rest of your ODM gear’s gas to catch up to him. You knew if he were to survive such an event, he would scold you for wasting your gas on an old lump like him.

But, for once, Levi had something to say about you that didn’t regard your incompetence to make decent tea or your recklessness that spurred you to use all your gas just to save him and the bullheaded, baboon by the name of Oluo.

It was your astonishing speed.

You got to the two men right before the great wide jaws of the Titan could snap closed and swallow the three of you for its meal, which Levi had to admit (but probably never would) was quite impressive.

“Shit!” you hissed out when the three of you landed on another tree branch. As quick as you got to the branch was as quick as Miche was to come and ensure your safety, slicing the Titan’s nape with ease.

Oluo was still unconscious and a little bloodied up and battered, but he was safe.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Levi yelled, voice slightly hoarse from everything that had just happened. His hair was a mess, and you held back a laugh at the sight of him. “Why— why would you? I mean, what— and, why do you smell like—”

“A thank you is perfectly fine, Ackerman.” you coughed out, catching your breath from the overexertion you just forced yourself through. Carrying two grown men was tough, especially when it was between life or death. “As for the smell, one of my soldiers threw up on me.”

Levi blinked at you, his expression consisting of disgust and confusion. “What?”

“My soldier. He threw up on me earlier.”

“I heard you the first time.” he told you, blinking quickly as if it were going to grant him some clarity. You didn’t know if his confusion was from your act of saving him and his squad member or from not knowing what to say to you after.

He looked funny, with his hair that of a bird’s nest and his cheeks flushed pink.

“Did you hit your head on the way down?”

“W-what?”

“Your head? Did you hit it?”

“No, I-I’m fine.” he scrambled upright, finding purchase on the unconscious Oluo’s shin. Your eyes flickered to where his hand was placed, and he snatched it right off immediately, burning a deeper shade of pink.

“Oh.” you muttered, holding back a chuckle. There was no way Levi was without a concussion, not with the way he was acting all of a sudden: stuttering and turning pink on you. It was a wonder you caught up to him before he collapsed.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Captain?” you asked again, fixing your uniform before getting to your feet. You wobbled a bit; Levi raised a brow at you. “You look sick. Why don’t you sit in the injury wagon for a bit on the way back? Just in case.”

He waved you off, standing on his two feet as well. You didn’t want to cause a fight, not right after what had just happened and not outside the walls, so you decided to say nothing about his seeming concussion.

The two of you lifted Oluo off the ground, blood seeping from the side of the man’s mouth. “Is it his ribs? Was it an Abnormal? They were awful today.” you questioned, looking to Levi for answers.

“He bit his tongue, again, before ramming into a tree.” Levi told you, averting his gaze from you as he shifted the man against his shoulder for a better grip. “He said something f-fell from the sky.”

You nodded, letting yourself chuckle. “What could it’ve been? Bird shit?”

Levi shrugged at your words.

He was far too quiet for your liking. Maybe he did have a concussion. It wouldn’t be good if he rode back like that. Perhaps if you spoke to Erwin or Hange about it, one of them could convince Levi to get checked out once you got back to the walls.

The two of you managed to get back to the rest of the Scouts safely. You helped Levi placing Oluo in the wagon with the wounded and the fallen while everyone else was getting accounted for.

All the while, Hange was trying to persuade Erwin into letting them form a search party for their glasses that had fallen while they were swinging on the trees.

Though you were straining to listen to their conversation, you were more than certain that Erwin would never allow such a thing, but you had to admire Hange’s efforts, as fruitless as they were.

“Thank you.”

You snapped your head to Levi.

He refused to meet your gaze again, busying himself with readjusting his soldier’s cape. If not for the obvious step into uncharted territory between the two of you, you would’ve commented on the rosy blush he adorned.

Suddenly, you were overcome with a laughter, waving him off with your hand quickly. “I was just joking about that, Captain. Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but I’m just surprised you actually—”

He scoffed, the expression on his face shifting to one of impatience. “Don’t be a brat. Just take the compliment.” Levi huffed out, visibly annoyed with your chatter.

A look of shock overtook your face. “Oh, so you’re complimenting me? Why didn’t you just say so, then?”

“Oi, that’s not what I meant—”

“No, it’s fine. I heard you, loud and clear.” you interrupted, smiling widely at him. “You’re oh-so very welcome, Captain Ackerman, and if you ever need me to save your ass again, you know where to find me.”

Levi opted to say nothing back, merely shaking his head at you when you gave a lazy salute and started back to the other side of the formation where your horse and squad awaited you.

“Besides,” you shrugged, turning back for a moment to catch him looking at you. “Who else would teach me how to make tea?”

note: I don’t think I specified it, but Oluo was knocked unconscious bc some object (Hange’s glasses) fell from the sky lmao 🐸

#snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot #aot x you #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman scenario #levi ackerman imagine #attack on Titan #snk x y/n

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masterhandss · 3 years

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HameFura Manga V6 Bonus SS (translated)

It says “Magical Girl Flag Breakers” and “Our Enemies: The Ruin Four”

Volume 6 Bonus SS - “Magical★Girl Flag Breakers”

Hello! So I snagged a raw copy of Manga Volume 6 on the internet because I was really excited for the bonus story ever since I got raws of Volume 5. For those who don’t know, typically a copy of the manga comes with an extra chapter with Katarina having a dream about different scenarios (V1 was Fortune Lover, V2 is a Highschool AU, V3 is a Fantasy RPG AU, V4 is a Genderbend AU and V5 is a Kindergarten AU), and alongside the chapter of the volume is a image preview of the next story in the next volume.

I couldn't wait to read this one-shot so with the power of google translate, I’ve decided to translate it myself! Please read this one, it’s a very fun one-shot, so much so that I want more of this story XDD (also because it took me half a day to translate this from pictures qwq)

Please do remember to read this one-shot once an official English Release of Manga Volume 6 comes out, and please forgive me for any mistake I made while translating this story to English.

--------

It was a sunny morning that day. I, Katarina Claes, an ordinary high school student, overslept that day and was late for school. While I was dashing to school with a fresh cucumber in my mouth from our fridge instead of my breakfast, was suddenly struck with something hard on the head. I was surprised! I rubbed my head and looked around, but I saw nothing.

I was about to start running again because I assumed that I just imagined, until I heard a voice. "Ouch, I'm sorry I bumped into you", the voice said as I looked up to follow it. "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH~~~~" I screamed instinctively as I looked at what looks like a small little doll.

There was a small boy with wings. The boy covered his ears and frowned at my loud outcry. "Oh, I'm sorry" I apologized, also instinctively, but this is turning out to be a really weird situation. What even is this small little boy? It's a really well-made toy or something like that. "I'm not a toy", eh did I say that out loud?

I was surprised to hear a reply, so I asked "Are you a dwarf then?"

"No, I'm a spirit" he said with a matter-of-fact tone. 'Oh, so he's a spirit~' is what I would have said........

"Wait, what do you mean a spirit?" I wasn't convinced at all. What do you mean it's a spirit? The little spirit boy begins to explain to me, who was still surprised and flustered, while pointing with his tiny finger.

Well, it turned out to be quite the serious discussion. While a story about an evil organization, the most worrisome part to me was, "So, if the 'planet' dies, what will happen?" I could predict what his answer would be, but it still scared me to hear what the answer was. "If the planet dies, all living creatures here will die" The little spirit replied with an expected answer. When he said that all living creatures will die, does that mean everyone?!

"We will fight and defeat the evil organization with the power we receive from the planet," the spirit declared so bravely. He may look cute like a doll, but he was very cool. I instinctively made a guts pose, "In behalf of everyone, I thank you. Good luck on your fight". "Thank you, but the one who will be fighting is not me--. The spirit boy was interrupted by a loud explosion nearby, where I heard a loud scream saying "Ah! It's a monster!".

When I ran over there to check it out, for some reason, there was something big rampaging in a park just further away. Wait, what? There was a giant bear that appeared out of nowhere?! Around these parts, there could be monkeys showing up, but not bears.

Next to me, the spirit boy was visibly upset. "Oh no, They've already started to appear. I haven't even formed a contract with anyone yet" the spirit boy whispered. What does he mean by a contract? No, its not the time for such questions when something serious is happening in front of us.

"Um, Spirit boy, lets run away, the situation over there looks dangerous". I called out to him, but the spirit boy didn't answer with his eyes growing bigger. "And you, can you help me with my work?" He said as if there wasn't anything happening in front of us. What does he mean help with his work? What is he saying in such a dangerous time like this.

"The Evil Organization".

"?!"

"What happening right now, it's involving the things I've told you about. I need your help, please". "Wait, even if you say it so suddenly like this...." I'm already really late for school, and at this point getting in would be really difficult. I'm in deep trouble. "Please, I can only ask you." I was being stared with such a desperate face and moist eyes, making it really hard to refuse. Aside from that, the noise in the park is getting louder, and I feel like it's really dangerous to stay here.

For now, its best to run away for the time being and listen to him when we get to somewhere safer. I thought and said, "I understand. I'll help you, so lets run away from here first." My words did not even finish until the end. Before I finished, the spirit boy grinned and said, "Okay, then lets form the contract."

The moment I saw his grinning smile, I knew something was weird, but before I could say anything, the spirit boy pulled something that looked like a stick with a flag and asked, "What is your name?" "Katarina Claes". For some reason, my mouth started to move on my own and said my name. Eh, what's going on?

"Then, Katarina Claes, I will appoint you as a magical girl who will help protect this planet". When I shook the flag that the spirit boy had, my body was wrapped in light, and my school uniform changed into a cute and frilly costume.

"What's this?!" "It's a magical girl costume. Now you have the power to do more than what a hundred normal persons can do".

"Wearing this frilly outfit can make me do that?!" "Yes, that costume has that kind of power. With this, you can defeat the enemy as a magical girl". "Wait, what's a magical girl? and by enemy you mean--" "Ah, it's already here"

As soon as the spirit boy interrupted my words with his own, a giant pink bear doll came out from the entrance of the park.

"What's that?" "That's our enemy. Now, let's defeat it with the power of a magical girl." "Even if you tell me to defeat it--?!"

What should I do? The bear started to launch itself towards us while I was trying to figure out what to do. While it is a stuffed toy bear, it was very big so it's power was quite impressive.

It’ll be bad if I get hit, so I jumped really high unexpectedly in order to avoid it. Wow, the bear looked really surprised by my movements, which are a hundred times faster and stronger than a normal person, and it made the bear look like fool as he gave his all into that attack. What a terrifying bear. That bear tried to attack with a punch again. The bear is very quick for its size. Thanks to this outfit, I can easily avoid his punches, but this can’t keep going on like this.

“Hey spirit, how I can I defeat this bear?”. While trying to avoid the bear’s attacks, I asked the spirit who was watching me jump above. “Oh, that’s right. Point the bracelet at the bear and say ‘Flag Break’. If you do that, you can defeat it”. He seems to have forgotten to tell me this earlier.

I wondered if that was enough, but I did as I was told, pointing my bracelet at the bear and shouted “Flag Break”, and a ray of light appeared from the bracelet. When the light hits and wraps the bear in its entirety, it disappeared after the light.

I coughed while staring at the spot where the bear disappeared, and the spirit who was now next to me said, “Thank you, Katarina. Thank you for your continued support. My name is Raphael”, he said as I held his outreached hand.

This how I, Katarina Claes, became a magical girl who fights against evil organizations.

And, through this event, I learned that I should not accept unclear requests so easily. I became a magical girl by being convinced in a shocked state by Raphael, and in the months since I became a magical girl, my number of friends seemed to have increased. After several months, I realized that there are more magical girls in my school, such as Maria who was part of the student council and the school’s cooking club, Mary from the gardening club, and Sophia from the literature club. Strangely, all of them are smart and beautiful students. Not only that, they were all scouted by a female spirit named Anne as magical girls. I was only scouted in the heat of the moment, but everyone else are so good at their job, and eventually we all began to get along as friends. Until then, I usually go to school late because I always get lost, but now we all go to school together every day.

“Yes, I tried to turn the flowers in the gardening club as a bookmark, Katarina. If you’d like, please use it”. “Wow. it’s so cute, thank you. Mary has good taste” “Katarina, I’ve brought a book I want to recommend” “You did? I’m looking forward to it. Thank you, Sophia” “Katarina, I brought some sweets I made in the cooking club, please eat some if you’d like” “Oh! Thank you Maria. I love your sweets so much because they are just so delicious”

Just like that, we continue to have fun chatting to each other, when suddenly there was a figure ahead of us. “Hello, Katarina and co.”

A beautiful young man with blonde hair and blue eyes appeared before me. “Wow, you’re here again Geordo” I frowned, but Geordo returned it with a smile. “Today, I will defeat you and make you mine”, that’s when he suddenly changed into a black cloak with a mask; the uniform of the evil organization.

Yes, this handsome young man is named Geordo, he might look like a prince, but he is actually one of the Four Kings of Ruin, part of the enemy organization that we, magical girls, need to defeat. I met Geordo after I had become a magical girl, during my third battle. It was Geordo who summoned enemies like the giant stuffed toy bear and released it onto the city. Since then, I had fought him multiple times as enemies, where he continuously says things like “You’ve piqued my interest. Would you become mine?” whenever he approaches me. Is this a new form of attack? When I reply to him with an attack, he would reply with “One day, I will beat you and make you mine”.

I don’t know if this is a new kind of attack, but Geordo would typically show up every three days, and now that its the third day, it probably means I need to transform into a magical girl again.

“I hate you” “Yeah, please stop disturbing our good time” “Please pack it up”

Mary, Sophia and Maria all said, as they transformed into magical girls too. “You girls are interrupting the moment between me and Katarina. You girls are in my way” Geordo said, as he raised his hand to the sky. Then, a black circle appeared, with people falling out from it.

“Ouch! Geordo, do you know how many time you’ve been calling out to us recently? I was gonna take a nap”, that was Geordo’s twin brother who scratched his head, the snobby Alan who is also part of the Four Kings. “That’s right, I was on a date with a girl” said Keith, the playboy from the Four Kings of Ruin, who frowned and brushed his bangs. The last one was expressionless, but was looking at the pasta who had fallen onto the ground with a sad face. He is Nicol, the final member of the four who has a magical and mysterious charm to him.

“Everyone, don’t be so lazy. Let’s work together and defeat the magical girls once and for all” Geordo said to them, and they all turned to me in a daze. There’s something he didn’t know about his allies when he called them out.

“Yo, it’s been a long time, Katarina. You’re still playing magical girl?” Alan said. Perhaps he was embarrassed that he had just declared that he would take a nap, because his face was flushed red. I met him during one of my battles.

“Katarina Claes, you’re always so free. It’s so lonely to think that you don’t have anyone to date yet,” Keith said. Perhaps he was shy or was embarrassed by the girl he was just on a date with, because his face was also quite red. I also met him during one of my battles so I’m acquainted with him.

Maybe he was called from a place where he was eating his pasta, and now it had fallen to the ground and splattered, because Nicol had a very sad expression. ”................” “Would you like some of these sweets so compensate for your food?” I offered to him. He gave me such a happy and devilish smile, saying “thank you” as he reached out for one of the sweets. I staggered a bit at the sight. I also met Nicol during one of my battles.

“What are you guys talking about so happily with my Katarina? I called you guys here to deal with the other three magical girls who are trying to get in between us” Geordo said. “What are you taking about? You’re the ones who are in the way of our good time,” Mary lifted her eyebrows and snapped at Geordo, who simply replied to her accusation with a dark smile. “That’s my line. You high school girls who just talk about crap without any meaning”.

“That’s rude, it’s not meaningless” Sophia said angrily. Well this is the kind of thing that Geordo definitely won’t understand. He doesn’t seem to have a prejudice against high school girls... wait a minute, shouldn’t we be fighting? Geordo, Mary and Sophia are quarrelling, Alan and Keith are summoned but have flushed cheeks and are looking away, Maria is sharing handmade sweets to Nicol who lost his pasta.

Recently, every time we confront the Four Kings of Ruin, we more frequently fight like this, without throwing any hands. I even started to wonder if I was still a magical girl, so I tried to look around for our two spirits, before I was interrupted by Maria who offered sweets to me. It was so good that I lost all my will for battle.

“Lady Katarina, Lady Katarina, please get up. It’s time for you to go to school”

What happened to the battle? “Battle? Katarina, you’re sleeping. We need to get you ready for school”, Anne said, bringing out my clothes. “Oh I had a very strange dream. I was transformed into a magical girl. Not only that, the enemies were Geordo and the others. What a strange dream”.

“What’s a magical girl?” Anne gave me a suspicious look while the adjusting my clock. “Ah, um, a magical girl fights against an evil organization--”

“Katarina, I’m grateful for your explanations but we don’t time for that right now, so I’ll ask about it later after we finish your preparations”. Ann told me, and when I looked at the clock, I knew that it was almost time for class and that I was about to be late. I hurriedly cooperated with Anne and started preparing myself for school. My usual day begins as from that point.

--------

That’s it! It’s a very cute one-shot, and I hope after I post this, maybe it inspires people to write stories based on this au qwq. Volume 7′s oneshot is “Detective?! Katarina’s Office” (Tantei?! Katarina Jimusho) so if thats interesting then i’ll translate that too.

Some unnecessary notes from me if you’re interested in reading:

Since Katarina is the hero and Miri is the leader of the evil organization, I guess if this really was a story then the plot twist is that Katarina is her daughter. I can imagine maybe this story takes place in her old world with her old family (mom, dad, grandma, two brothers) but the difference here is that Katarina is adopted or something like that.

It’s interesting that Raphael is Katarina’s fairy partner instead of Ann. It works since both Kat and Raph use Dark Magic in canon lol haha also because it shows how competent Ann is haha

It’s also cool to see the playboy version of Keith liking Katarina.

Sophia and Nicol don’t seem to be related at all in this version of the story, which I’m cool with. They could also have a Hawkmoth-Chat Noir situation where they aren’t aware of each other’s secret identities (though I doubt it myself since they all transformed in front of the boys, but hey i’m just throwing it out there).

Omg rip Nicol’s pasta. Press f to pay respects

160 notes · View notes

claudiarya · 3 years

Text

Hey guys, I’ve written a post RoW fanfiction. I warn you that it has a death trope in it, so beware.

You can also read it on Ao3 as well.

Count words: 5990

Hope Suite

They didn’t know the moment when it all went wrong. Had it been when Kaz had accepted the job? Had it been when Inej had left Pekka Rollins alive, or when they had kept going despite all the adversities, they had encountered? The events of the last days were starting to become a blurring reel, that had done nothing but confuse them. What had started as a fairly easy job for the queen of Ravka, it then had turned out to be a major standoff with their enemies, which was putting not just one country, but the whole world as they knew it in peril. Maybe it had all gone downhill when Jarl Brum had managed to escape his prison cell at Hellgate, aided by one of his most trusted Drüskelle, his mind already too corrupted by the former General’s manipulations.

By the time he had been set free again, and had sought revenge against his detested neighbors, specifically against the witch queen and her monstrous husband, Inej, Kaz and his crew had already been too involved with their task to worry about it. How could they have known that once out, Brum was going to use everything in his power to bend Ravka? The Fjerdan man was aware that he couldn’t compete with its ruler, so he had worked out a different strategy entirely: if he couldn’t hope to win in a direct confrontation, he was going to annihilate her and her subjects from within, even if it would cost the destruction of his own country and more…

They didn’t know how Brum had gotten the information, but he had travelled to the mountains and had somehow liberated a certain shadow summoner from his sacrifice of eternal of pain, well before Zoya could do as she had planned. The shadow summoner in question had disappeared without a trace, only the Saints knew where he could have gone to hide away.

Needless to say, the darkness and its vampiric actions had started to spread again, at twice the speed. It looked like a ravenous beast had been set lose. It had extended in other countries as well, a silent and unannounced menace ravishing everything in its wake, that terrified even sailors at sea. If that wasn’t enough, Brum had also found out about Dirtyhand’s ‘involvement’ with the queen, and had made an ally with an ex Barrel boss, who had lost all his fortunes and power to a teenage crippled kid. Two powerful and dangerous men driven by their thirst for revenge had revealed themselves to be even more unstoppable than any of them had originally believed.

***

Inej remembered when Kaz had asked her to take a short leave from her sea voyages, to run one last time with him and the other crows in this task in which her skills at gathering information were going to be fundamental. Jesper had, of course, already accepted his friend’s proposition, and if at first Wylan had been skeptical, he had ended up joining the crew for the job. Perhaps for his natural instinct to follow wherever the gangly sharpshooter went, or maybe for the fact that he had made friends with the King consort, their shared love for science and ‘infernal gadgets’, as Kaz would call them, a fertile ground for common understanding.

“I won’t force you to do anything,” he had rasped to her while sitting on the roof ledge at the Slat to watch the tepid Ketterdam sun slowly blinking into existence in front of them; their intertwined fingers a testimony of how far they had already conquered together. The only thing that hadn’t won yet was their insomnia.

“Your particular set of skills is needed for this job, but I understand if you don’t want to be dragged into this,” Kaz had continued, and she had known he had slightly turned his head in her direction, as she had kept her eyes on the dawn.

After a while and still no answer from her he had sighed.

“Inej, what I’m trying to say is that we need you. I need you. I don’t think I can do this without you, so please tell me now, so I can send back a definite answer to Her Royal Pain.”

The Suli girl had marveled at his words: she didn’t think she had ever heard Kaz admit out loud that he couldn’t do something without the help of someone else.

“I’ll do it,” she had exclaimed, now turning her gaze on his stone-carved features. “But on one condition: I want Queen Zoya to help me fight against the slave trade in Ravka, and I want her to promise me that human traffickers are going to find the justice they deserve in her country.”

Kaz had squeezed her hand, the look in his eyes an oath to himself as well as to her.

***

Inej clutched her hand on her injured arm. She could feel the blood on her palm, as she watched Kaz keeping at cane point the last of the men who had tried to kill them. Their lead for the relic of Santk Feliks’s heart had taken them here, in an obscure abandoned, or so they thought, monastery on the Ravkan coast, right on the border with Fjerda. They had found out that centuries before, the order of religious men inhabiting the place had been the resting place of the only remaining part of the Saint. An easy reconnaissance job, an easy trail to follow. But ever since the spreading of the blight, of the Kilyklava, nothing had been easy. It was as if for every movement they made, their enemies were ten steps ahead of them. Inej had never seen anyone outsmart Kaz like that. Usually, he was the one who had everything under control, who could predict every outturn, every maneuver his opponents were going to make. But instead, everywhere they had attempted to gather information, they had encountered a setup of sorts: mainly the place they had intended to scout, burnt to the ground. Had they a spying traitor in their mix? Inej had never seen him more on edge than she had in the last month, but now they had passed the pretense of this being another job. It had stopped being that when the world hab been threatened by an unstoppable force and Pekka Rollins had entered the picture. It was personal. And she suspected that he was also trying to keep true to the promise he had made her.

Inej had thought they had planned this out so carefully, she was sure they would not encounter any unpleasant surprise this time. After the too many (not) coincidences, they had started scheming their way for the hunt of the heart with only the four of them and Nikolai and Zoya, who had had to, although begrudgingly, leave out the Triumvirate and their closest friends from this particular matter of international importance. How was it possible then, that their traces had been tracked even here? Kaz and Inej had offered for the job, a quick break in into the abandoned archives of the monastery, while Nikolai, Jesper and Wylan would wait for them on the Volkvolny to pick them up and leave after they had completed their task. Perhaps a smaller party was going to attract less attentions, their rouse of a devoted young group of people had served them well in the little town around the old holy building, and they had played their parts too well that Inej had forgotten for an instant that they had a bigger goal in mind. She was never going to forget the easy talk, the laughs they had shared around the table of the little tavern they had resided in, her hand clasped together with Kaz as a sort of lifeline for the both of them; her head resting delicately on his chest as they were lying down on the little bed they shared.

The four men that have been sent to kill them had caught them by surprise. Again.

Kaz had just uttered “We’ve got what we need, let’s go,” when the first thug that had tried to sneak up on him. Inej had made a quick work of the assassins, if her knives embedded in two of the men’s throats were of any indication. Despite that, one of the others had managed to graze her arm with a bullet, when she had momentarily lost her focus because the remaining one had kicked Kaz’s bad leg, eliciting a sound of pain from him. If only Jesper and Wylan had been there with them.

As she hobbled to where he was standing, Inej realized that Kaz was shaking from the effort of not to keel over in pain, his hand gripping the crow’s head of his cane so tightly, she feared he was going to snap it in half.

“Kaz...” she started

“You’re bleeding,” he rasped, diverting his gaze from the man to her, for the briefest of moments.

“It’s nothing,” she said. But she could see that he wasn’t really convinced, and with a soft grunt, he fished from his pocket a handkerchief and handed it to her, before asking to the person on the ground.

“How did you know we would be here?” his eyes two unforgiving coals.

The hired assassin didn’t answer at first but gave away in a little chuckle instead. Suddenly Kaz, still balancing his weight mostly on his good leg, brought down his cane on one of the man’s own legs. His scream of pain echoed around them in the old room.

“It doesn’t feel good, does it?” he said. This was Dirtyhands himself, any trace of the young man he had been with her at the tavern, vaporized.

“Now, tell me how you knew we were here, or I’m going to break every bone you have, and we both know how pleasant that is.”

The man chuckled again, but then he started talking.

“At times one shouldn’t look for spiders,” he said with a sickening grin. “At times, it’s the little insects nobody sees or cares to check because they’re believed to be harmless that tip the scales.”

Inej could see Kaz’s mind trying to figure out the man’s words, his gaze distant.

In that moment she realized that she was never going to tire to see that look on his face. Nor any other looks for that matter. Wobbly, the boy in question turned to her, he took the kerchief she had been pressing on her wound from her hand, and before she could realize what he was doing he tore it a bit and tied it around her bloody arm.

“Let’s get out of here,” he stated, wincing visibly as he made to move towards the door.

The man started laughing again as if Kaz had said something so funny he couldn’t control himself. Inej was on him before she could think. A knee on the thug’s sternum and her blade pressed to his throat.

“What’s so funny?” she inquired, looking down at him with disdain. She was tired, and she wanted to bring Kaz back to the Volkvolny, to get his leg looked properly after.

“In the end, you really are nothing but two delusional kids,” the man said, and Inej could feel his voice reverberate from under her knee.

“Stop speaking in riddles, or I swear to all the Saints known I’ll cut your throat right this second.”

He raised one hand in a gesture of mocking surrender. “Let’s just say that nobody is leaving this place alive,” he conceded.

“What do you mean?” asked Kaz from somewhere behind her, his tone menacing yet on guard. The tip of Inej’s knife scraped the man’s throat when he didn’t immediately answer back, two droplets of blood slid down the blade.

“This place and the whole town are about to be razed down by bombs and cannons. General Brum’s ships are approaching. They wanted to make sure our precious king consort and his flying machine didn’t leave this place unscathed. There’s no escaping your tragic fate now.” He snarled. His voice couldn’t conceal the hate he had for Nikolai, so he must have been one of those Ravkans from the West, unhappy with who was ruling over them now.

“No,” Inej said softly, and shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re lying!”

The man’s eyes lit with a manic light. “The world shall end in flames and darkness before being ruled by Gri –” He never finished his sentence, as Kaz brought down his cane once again, this time on his head.

The silence that followed could have lasted a minute or an eternity, Inej couldn’t be sure.

“Kaz,” she started again while standing.

“You need to leave. Now. I can’t walk, I think my leg is broken, but you need to leave me here and run from this place.” Kaz said, turning to look at her, the desperation palpable in his voice

“I’m not leaving,” she approached him. “We need to warn Nikolai. Tell them all to leave.”

“Inej – ”

“Either pick up the comm and call them, or give it to me, Kaz. We’re only losing time like this.” Her tone was unmovable.

Without any more protests on his part, he took out the little ingenious device Wylan and Nikolai had come up with. It permitted them to communicate even from quite long distances.

“Crow 1 and 2 to Too Clever Fox, do you copy?”

For the briefest of instants only there was only the sound of static, but then.

“Too Clever Fox here, I copy you. Kaz? What’s going on?” came the king’s voice.

“Nikolai, listen to me: you have to leave. Now. Get the Volkvolny and depart. This monastery, this town is about to be razed down by bombs. They knew we would be here; Brum’s ships are approaching. You – ”

“We’re coming to get you,” Nikolai interrupted him.

“No, there’s no time for that. You have to leave here now, or it will all be for nothing.” He looked at Inej then, his eyes searching hers in the dim light of the room with evident resignation.

“No! Kaz, Inej, no, we’re coming and we’re all surviving this.” Another protest from a different voice, Jesper’s.

“No! You have to listen and be quiet. I know where the thing we’ve looked for is. It’s hidden somewhere under the little place you train your soldiers. I also know how they’ve been able to predict our every move. Bugs. Check the war room for devices of the sort we’re using right now.”

“I will,” was Nikolai’s response.

There was another brief pause of static, Kaz spoke again, before he could be interrupted

“Jesper, Wylan,” he said. “The Crow Club and everything else is yours and Nina’s. You’ll find all the documents in my office back at the Slat. Do with them whatever you think it’s right.”

“Kaz, please we still have time, we can come and get you.” It was Wylan’s voice now that came from the other side.

Inej got closer and circled the hand in which Kaz was gripping the device with her own. “Wylan, you have to leave. Right now, ring the alarm bell of the town and go.” She started and then said:

“Guys… find my parents, tell them – tell them what happened, and that it was all for something better. We love you.”

Another anguished call for their names echoed around the room they were standing.

Inej took a breath a finished what she meant to say. “Nikolai the Wraith… take good care of her, and don’t forget our promise. When you see Nina and Zoya tell them – ”

She couldn’t finish the sentence the threat of tears pricking her eyes. Luckily the privateer answered back.

“I’ll tell them, and I promise everything we did by far will not be in vain. Thank you, my friends. We will never forget what you did for Ravka and for all of us.”

Kaz and Inej could also hear the subtle sounds of distress of their friends, their family. She realized in that moment how much all of them meant to her. Funny how life had a tendency to remind you how deeply you loved someone when you’re about to lose everything.

Kaz brought the device back on his lips and in a clear voice said: “No mourners…” and before they could hear an answer coming from the other side, he had already thrown on the ground the device and smashed it with the tip of his cane.

The movement made so that he lost his balance. He would have crashed on the ground if Inej hadn’t been there to prevent the fall. She brought his arm over and shoulder and steadied him.

Kaz looked at her intently, his face turned in her direction, his eyes scanning her features and she knew what he was about to tell her even before he spoke the words.

“Inej, you can still make it, you’re fast, you have to run and save yourself.”

“I knew you were going to say this, but if you think that I could ever leave you behind you’re sorely mistaken.”

He did not relent, and as stubbornly as ever he removed his arm from around her shoulder, he gripped his cane with all his might so as not to fall again and faced her.

“Inej, please. Run now. Live. You have so much you still have to give to this wretched world.” Kaz Brekker never said please, never. Yet here he was, a broken boy standing in front of the girl he had grown to love.

“I can’t do that,” Inej simply replied while shaking her head in denial.

“It was all my fault, and you can’t pay my foolishness with your life, I won’t allow it. It’s not worth it. I’m not worth it.”

She took the short distance separating them and put her hand atop his on his cane.

“None of this was your fault, you have to get that straight. We’ve done something good, we helped our friends, our countries. And you’ll always be worth it to me.”

At her words she felt his breath hitch, but still his eyes held behind them a strange resolution.

“I can’t be the reason why you die here today, why can’t you understand that?” Kaz’s voice cracked, perhaps with the effort of holding back his desperation. Inej brought her free hand up and gently cupped his face with her palm. Her thumb grazed his cheek in a loving gesture.

“I’m not afraid to die, Kaz. But I’m terrified at the idea of a life without you in it. So, no. I’m not leaving, not now, not ever.”

***

As they stumbled outside the musty room of the monastery, Kaz with an arm draped around Inej’s shoulder for support, the Autumnal sun had started its descent. The soft orange and purple hues of the rays reflected on the sea surface, and the waves created a gentle melody. Inej couldn’t help but think that this was the Saints’ way to lead them onto their next job, their next adventure…

They dragged their feet until they were near the shore and lowered themselves down. For a moment that felt like an eternity, they gazed to the horizon, the sheer but peaceful resignation palpable in the air.

When Kaz clasped her hand and looked at her, she remembered a conversation she had overhead between the boy and Zoya.

They had adjourned their meeting after having gone over their plan again, everyone had stepped out of the room except for Kaz and Zoya, who had prevented him from exiting with a question. Curious as to why he hadn’t joined her outside, she had stayed behind the closed door, waiting in the long corridor. She had known that Kaz, and probably the queen too, were aware that she was there, but she hadn’t cared much.

“Just out of curiosity, why are you doing this Mr. Kerch rat?” she had asked, her voice reverberating even outside.

“I thought it was pretty obvious, Your Highness. It’s for the reward.” He had replied in that wry tone of his that she knew drove Zoya crazy.

“Oh, but I don’t think it’s just that.” Even without having been inside, Inej could picture the other woman taking one of the positions she had learned the queen preferred. Arms crossed and a frowned expression to better look down on him. In the crows’ time at the palace, the two Suli women had formed an easy and quiet friendship. The captain of the Wraith had helped her queen to reacquaint herself with her Suli heritage and Inej had even told Zoya that once the situation was over, she was going to bring her to her family caravans, to spend some time amongst their people. They had become sisters at heart and by blood.

“Enlighten me with your glorious knowledge then.”

Kaz had always liked playing with fire, but he was always walking a fine line with the sovereign of Ravka. Perhaps he wanted to see how much she could take before she decided to strike him out of existence on the spot.

“When you saw that this was getting dangerous, that it wasn’t going to be an easy job, you could have easily dropped everything and return to Ketterdam with you crew. Why didn’t you? Why stay when you knew the risks?”

Inej had heard genuine interest in Zoya’s voice that didn’t bore any resentment.

“I don’t know what you want me to answer.”

“Try with the truth, I know it’s hard for you, but indulge me. I know you’re not doing this just for yourself and your own benefit, as shockingly as it may seem. You’re still here for Inej, for the promise we had sworn to keep.” The queen had said as if she had found out the deepest secret of the man standing before her.

“Let me get this straight,” he had rasped. “I’ll always do what’s best for me, but I’m also a man of my word and I made a promise.”

There had been a few seconds of absolute silence, in which probably Zoya had studied him with those piercing blue eyes of hers.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but under certain aspects we’re not that different you and I. Your prickly behavior can only last so long, Kaz, but eventually you’ll have to let go. I’ve learned that even the thickest thorns have their purposes.” The queen had said with a wisdom that at times made Inej wondered how many lives the queen had already lived.

“Ah, but here’s where your wrong, Your Excellency. In this scenario you’re comparing me to thorn wood, while actually I’m just barren land on which nothing grows.”

His lapidary answer would have been enough to render speechless anyone, but not Zoya the Grisha queen of Ravka. In her spectacular talent at having always the last word she told him: “You’ll realize that you can’t keep up this cold demeanor forever. I just hope it won’t be too late when you do.”

***

Inej squeezed Kaz’s hand tighter and looked him straight in his brown eyes, a shade lighter in the orange sun. From a distance they heard the sound of bells. Their friends had managed to give the alarm, she only hoped they were already on their way back to the palace. The tolls were shortly followed by another sound: propellers guiding the Fjerdan ships to face the town and the monastery. With a small smile grazing her feature she told him said.

“You were wrong. You were wrong that time when you spoke with Zoya.” If at the beginning of her sentence he had seemed confused, now she could see he understood what conversation she meant.

“You’re not just barren land, Kaz. You managed to build something from nothing, you survived all those terrible things in your life and in the process, you managed to grow, to thrive, to do something good for Ravka and your friends. I’m sure your brother would be proud of you. I know I am.” He didn’t reply.

The rumbling of the aircrafts was almost cacophonic, in contrast to the peace they had basked in not a few minutes ago. Despite that, it was as if the two of them had been placed in a protective bubble of their own, in which not even those machines of war could destroy.

Perhaps it was the lightening, but Inej swore those were unshed tears glinting in Kaz’s eyes. In all the years she had known him, she had never even seen him get emotional or choked up about something, but here, now, on this shore with her, Dirtyhands was doing just that.

“I’ve never wanted for it to end like this – his shoulders shook as he held back a sob – for us, to end like this. Inej, believe me when I tell you that if I could go back, I would do so many things differently. If I could go back, I would start to show you how much I admire you, how much I love you so much earlier than I did.”

Inej’s hand found his face again. The tip of her fingers skimmed his lips in such a tender gesture that they parted under her touch.

“There’s no need for that, Kaz, I already know. And it doesn’t matter how early or late you started. You show me you love me every day.” Her limb continued on her exploration: she touched his brow, his eyes, his cheekbones. “I propose a deal: I’ll find you in the next life Kaz Rietveld, and even there I’ll be waiting for you perched on your windowsill feeding the crows.”

Still looking at her straight in the eye, he let go of her hand, removed his gloves discarding them on the sand and rubbed her disheveled braid between two trembling fingers.

“The deal is the deal. I’ll find you there then.”

The rumble of the ship cannons had reached a deafening peak as their beams struck mercilessly on the monastery in an unescapable trap of fire.

Before the very end, the two held themselves up on trembling knees and embraced the other. A small smile of resigned happiness on both of their faces.

“Stay with me,” Kaz whispered, and unlike another and far time her answer was clear.

“Always.” Inej swore.

Saints protect us both, was the last thing she thought.

And then there was nothing but searing light.

***

In Os Alta the feast on Sankt Nikolai was fast approaching, but even if she was the queen Zoya didn’t feel much festive. The white, still landscape of her country at this time of the year was an accurate representation of what she had been feeling ever since they had managed to find the heart of Sankt Feliks, save Ravka from the plague and its enemies with another peace treaty and bring the Darkling – or Aleksander as he insisted to be called – back to the little palace where they could control him. She knew they were taking a risk, but it was safer to have him closer than not knowing where he was. It had been a hard decision, but she wasn’t going to murder him in cold blood, she was not going to turn into a monster, as he had in his lust for power. In his loneliness.

When everything had come back to a pseudo- normality, when she had had time to think and just be, it was then that everything she had been holding back for the sake of her country hit her with tenfold the force.

Zoya had understood that keeping emotions bottled inside you, was going to eat you alive in the longer run. It was something she was learning every day, and that she was willing to change, if only a bit. She had started letting go in the small gestures of affection she shared with Genya, in the loving words she had with Nikolai, in the playful banters she occasionally allowed herself to have with the rest of her friends. Her family.

And so, as the Grisha queen strode towards her garden, the winter sun barely a strip on the horizon of a new morning, she couldn’t help the tears that fell down in two cold streaks down her face. Zoya brought an arm up to dry them, the sensation of the thick wool of her winter kefta both prickly and a reassurance.

She opened the door of the little corner of her world. Nobody entered this sanctuary except for Nikolai, since she hadn’t allowed anybody else to see her soul from that close. The structure her king had built for her always managed to leave her speechless. The glass and iron were combined in perfect harmony, and when Zoya worked in it by day, the sun would cast and create a series of little mesmerizing rainbows. However, what would always speak to her were the walls, painted by Alina. The roaring dragon flying, the little fox, the ship resembling the Volkvolny mastering the sea, the colors and symbols of the Grisha orders were her most trusted companions during the solitary hours of her gardening.

It was there where Nikolai found her, tending to her plants and flowers. She heard him enter her safe haven, and she supposed he had come out to her when he had awoken and hadn’t seen her resting beside him. He approached her and kneeled beside where she was on the ground, a rather small pot between her hands. Nikolai knew that when she was working here like this, he would have had to let go of his privateer side, and just be the man she had fallen in love with and married. In short, he needed to be her anchor.

“Those are nice flowers,” he said, pointing to the little thing with red petals. A genuine interest coloring his voice.

“They’re wild geraniums.” Was Zoya’s noncommittal answer. Her eyes hadn’t looked up at him.

“And what is that other sprout beside the flowers?” Nikolai prompted her again, indicating the smaller, yet visible plant growing alongside the geraniums. It looked like it was enveloping the geraniums in an embrace, its green leaves a stark, yet so right, contrast with the red of the petals.

This time she raised her gaze, and her blue orbs found a pair of comforting hazel ones staring back at him.

“It’s ivy.” Again, she didn’t let herself go into any sort of explanation.

“I remember you with a vase like this when you left for the Suli caravans.”

So, he had noticed, of course he had. Zoya was always taken aback by the fact that when it came to her, Nikolai was even a closer observant than he already was.

As soon as everything had settled after the whole ordeal, she had decided that she was going to be the one to bring the news to the Ghafas. Her and only her with no escort and no Nikolai in tow. She had told him that she had to do this particular thing alone, and he had just hugged her and encouraged her to go. It had been a spiritual journey of sorts; one she had promised her other Suli sister they would take together…

“Yes,” she said in a whisper. “They were Inej’s favorite flowers. I brought a pot to her parents when I visited the camps. It was the least I could.” With her hand she showed him other three little vases with the same brightly colored flowers and green little sprout of ivy on the side. “Those are for Nina, Jesper and Wylan. It’s their present for Sankt Nikolai.”

“Zoya,” he started. She knew they’ve been over this before, and yet she couldn’t seem to let her sense of guilt leave her.

“They knew what they were doing, it was their choice.”

“Yes, but it doesn’t make it any easier, Nikolai. When I met her parents – she shook her head – they treated me like their own. Like I was family. I’ve never felt so accepted, so… seen in my life, except for when I’m with you. And yet I’m part of the reason why their daughter has been taken away from them. They both have been taken away from them.” A small moment of silence, and once again she couldn’t stop the little tear escaping the corner of her eye.

“I just don’t understand how there can be such kindness after so much loss.” Zoya wondered out loud.

“It’s the nature of human beings, and also our strength.” Nikolai said. “Even after losing everything, we find it in ourselves to get back on our feet and fight for something new, something worth all the suffering.” He dragged himself closer to Zoya with his arms and then raised a hand to cup her cheek, gently steering her face in his direction. His thumb brushing away the stray tear marking her face.

“As long as there is life, there is happiness, Zoya. There is hope for a brighter future. And that’s exactly what Kaz and Inej had brought us: hope to build something better from the ashes.” He paused and behind his eyes she could see the same emotions that had been haunting her, testimony of the fact that he too had been grieving his friends.

“Don’t let your sorrow squander the hope they enabled with their sacrifice, because you wouldn’t be honoring their memories in that ways.”

“Oh, Nikolai,” she exhaled before throwing her arms around him with such a force he momentarily lost his balance. “Thank you!”

“Any time, my queen. I’ll always be here.” He promised.

“And besides, you know how much I love when I’m being all smart and wise. I couldn’t let this occasion to show it to you slip by.” He finished with a much brighter tone. Zoya softly chuckled, something she hadn’t thought being capable of mere months ago and told him with fake exasperation.

“Of course, you couldn’t. It’s your modesty I fell for after all.”

They remained in each other’s arms for an indefinite amount of time. The only indication of the time passing was the sun which har finally risen, and now was beating on the glass panels of the garden. Zoya continued tending to her plants, all a part of her in some capacity, as Nikolai watched her in a comforting silence, seated on the ground and with his back against a small tree.

“Why the ivy?” he asked her all of a sudden. His eyes returning once again on the pots near him.

“It can grow even in poor soils and although it requires more time for it to bloom than other plants, when it does its resilience it’s unmatched.” Zoya saw Nikolai nodding in understanding.

“I also found the meaning behind it fitting,” She added.

“What’s the meaning?”

“It symbolizes the constancy of love.”

There was a brief silence in which she saw him taking in the information.

“It is as fitting as it is beautiful,” he said, while he rose to his feet and brought her closer once again, placing a soft kiss on her dark mane.

As they left to go back to the palace, hand in hand, Zoya thought to herself that in life there were people whose souls were connected and strung in ways that couldn’t be explained by logic. She looked at Nikolai walking alongside her and smiled softly to herself, sure she had found the missing piece of her complicated puzzle in the golden boy beside her.

Her gait hadn’t felt this light in months.

In a glass garden, in a country ruled by a powerful Grisha queen with the heart of a dragon, a plant of geraniums and ivy grew stronger by the day, forever entwined in their embrace of constant love for the other.

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amesstm · 3 years

Text

I’m Sorry

Pairing: Jean Kirstein x Reader

Word Count: 1313

Warnings: angst, character death

A/N: Ngl, I dunno how to make a cut so it can be like “Keep Reading” so if anyone wants to help a girl out, please. Thanks~

“Y/N, you do it,” Reiner commanded. “You’ve been acting too friendly with the Scouts.”

You clicked your tongue, “And what about you and Krista?”

“Are you trying to disobey a direct order?” He sneered. Light brown eyes bored into your eyes for any sign of betrayal to Marley. Of course it would be like this, you thought.

“Reiner, just do it yourself.” Annie said, not able to look down at the freckled-boy she was holding down on the sheltered roof.

“Don’t you see how close you’re getting to these devils? I think you even like one of them,” Reiner muttered coldly underneath his breath.

A chill went down your spine. So, Reiner had seen how close you and Jean have become. In fact, from spending so much time with Jean, you’d become great friends with Marco. Marco did nothing wrong except for be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

You bit your lip, unable to respond as you slowly lowered yourself to Marco’s level. A shaky hand started to undo his gear. It wasn’t your own; it couldn’t have been. But the nails and skin color all belonged to you. In a dissociated state, you heard Marco screaming for mercy and begging for his life. “Y/N, we trusted you! I trusted you! Jean trusted you!”

Yet, when you looked back at Marco, a chunk had already been eaten out of his side. It seemed not only a few moments ago that his face was in panicked despair. You looked down at your hands, the hands of a murderer. Reiner whispered, “W-why is Marco being eaten by a Titan?”

Your eyes widened, noticing a complete change in the blond boy’s demeanor. It was as if he was an entirely different person. Reiner didn’t hold those determined orbs that Marley drilled into him, but the grieving shock of a devil.

Jean couldn’t stomach Marco’s death. You knew he wouldn’t. Not when he was the first one to identify the body and you, secretly, were the first to leave Marco to his own resources. It was easy to blame it on a Titan for your friend’s death, but it wasn’t easy to rethink what led up to his demise.

Since Jean couldn’t also hang out with Marco anymore, he mostly stayed by your side. When you were both on missions, he was the first one to search for you immediately afterwards. If you could afford to be together, he would stay by your side like a lovesick puppy.

But that just made the painful truth all the harder to reveal. Soon, that unfortunate event happened.

“Did everything we went through together mean nothing?” Jean asked, teary eyed before you ran away. Flashes of your kisses and hugs rippled through your mind. Jean was wrong, it meant everything to you.

Reflecting back on what occurred, there wasn’t much you could remember – or wanted to remember. It was like your brain selectively chose what you remembered from your time on that island. Seeing Reiner would return you to that place, where you’d cuddle up to Jean for warmth. Otherwise, you couldn’t remember the hardest parts.

You sighed on your bed, before rising to go through your newly found daily routine: get dressed and clean accordingly, grab a newspaper for breakfast, and attend meetings. After doing the first step, you stepped out to purchase a newspaper. Although you were there for military meetings, you still chose to read the news.

There was a line to the newsstand, per usual. Standing behind a tall man, you waited patiently. However, something felt oddly familiar about this man. No, he was too tall to be him. Surely. Yet, he had the same build and signature scent that Jean so adored. In fact, you kept a handkerchief of his that had his scent. Perhaps it was just a coincidence.

Ironically, it wasn’t a coincidence. Jean and the rest of the Scouts managed to travel to Marley and lived amongst you. Now here you were, sitting across the man you once shared everything with. The campfire crackled and the food was passed around. Out of the blue, Yelena mentioned Marco, and Jean’s face dropped. He had been cautious around you, which was jarring.

The cocky teenage boy you left behind was practically fully-grown, with long hair and facial hair to match. His rambunctious eyes were beaten into a determined gaze. Despite all the changes Jean endured, he was still the boy you fell in love with - you hoped. The feeling of his hand in yours was permanently etched in your skin and the softness of his hair could still be felt under your chin from your hugs.

Now, he only talked to you when he needed to. There were those longing gazes that were unavoidable, but nothing was said aloud. Sometimes his eyes would say everything – no, scream everything. The yearning to talk to you, to understand – why had you done it? Because you were just an innocent kid when you signed up to ruin his life.

“I did it. I took off Marco’s gear,” you admitted. Annie’s aura evolved into one that wanted to reach out and comfort you. Jean looked appalled, shocked, and betrayed. Tears welled into your eyes, blurring your vision so you wouldn’t have to see Jean’s disappointment.

Reiner interjected and took the blame on your behalf. “Don’t be mad at her, Jean. I forced her to.”

Reiner, wanting to find the fasted way to die, started to retell the whole event from that day. At that point, you had begun to dissociate as if your brain wanted to block out his words and forget that day ever happened. Your eyes stared off in space, into the unknown. Then you were dragged down to earth, but not just you. While you were blocking out your surroundings, Reiner was literally on the ground, accepting the punches of Jean. If it wasn’t Reiner being beaten, you only imagined what Jean would do to you. You gulped, and realized that Jean really had changed so much.

Today, the group would really save humanity – but not from the enemy they originally thought they’d face when they joined. Eren had really done it; he started the Rumbling and was trampling humanity into the earth from which they came. Jean was right, Eren really was a suicidal bastard.

The warm air fuming from Eren’s large form threatened to force all the oxygen out from your lungs. But riding on the back of Falco provided a breeze with a view of exactly where Eren’s nape was.

Jean clung onto Falco beside you. You tried not to think about his presence, wanting to focus on the mission. What would you say, after all? “I’m sorry”? No, no amount of apologizes could ever display the true sorrow you felt from killing Marco. Jean deserved much more than a simple apology.

“I think I’ll try to forgive you from what happened that day,” Jean said, his hand clasping yours. You blinked at him, really seeing him for the first time. Hints of sympathy were in his voice, but his beautiful brown eyes held all the understanding in the world. Every flaw and perfection were laid before you under the sun. If this was the way to heaven, you would gladly die.

“You don’t have to,” you conceded. Perhaps it was the fact that the both of you could die at any moment now that you were on Falco’s back, but confessions were pouring out of the both of you. In a way, Eren really did bring people together.

“Y/N, you know I can hate you forever. But if I do, then I’ll hate myself. We only have so long in this world that it’d just be a waste of time if I did.”

You swallowed, “Okay. Let’s survive this and we’ll see what happens.”

#aot imagines #aot x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein #jean aot #jean kirschtein imagine #jean kirschtien #jean angst #aot angst

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hysterialevi · 3 years

Text

Hjarta | Chapter 5

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

A WHILE LATER

BJORNHEIMR

Galloping directly for the longhouse, Sigurd rushed through the streets of Bjornheimr like a mad bull as he brought Eivor back to his home, grabbing the immediate attention of scattered onlookers. Men and women alike stopped in their tracks to see what all the commotion was about and stared at them in alarm, causing the paths to be littered with curious passersby.

As for Sigurd, the man had been riding relentlessly ever since their unexpected battle in the forest. Eivor insisted that his new wound was nothing to worry about, but even then, the prince could see that his friend was growing weaker by the second.

The younger man’s skin had become increasingly pale within the short span of their onerous journey, and despite his efforts to sit upright, Eivor’s body was clearly fighting against him more and more with a desperate urge to lie down.

At this point, he was simply trying to make sure that he didn’t tip off the saddle. Enough blood had gushed out of Eivor’s wound that his vision was starting to turn prickly around the edges, and he felt as if he was going to collapse at any minute.

He needed to see Ingrida, and fast.

Yanking on the reins of his horse, Sigurd forced the animal to come to an aggressive halt as they finally reached the longhouse, causing the steed to let out a panicked whinny. No one in the village had come to see what was going on just yet, but the prince noticed a small crowd of people gathering not too far away from where they stood.

They didn’t seem to realize that Eivor had been injured or that Kjotve’s men were lurking in the woods, but Sigurd’s state of distress was enough to put them on edge. The expression on his face had been knotted into a scowl of heightened concern, and the brisk pace in which he walked gave off the impression that he was in the midst of dealing with an urgent matter. They just didn’t know what it was.

“We’re here, Eivor,” Sigurd reassured, swiftly hopping off the saddle. “Hold on just a little longer.”

Grabbing the other man by the waist, the prince gently helped Eivor down from the horse and allowed him to lean on his shoulder, ensuring that he wouldn’t stumble to the ground upon returning to his feet. He appeared to be keeping his balance with a minimal amount of trouble, but even then, Sigurd didn’t want to risk taking his eyes off him.

“I’m... alright.” Eivor reiterated, his voice faltering at the end. “I only... need to sit down.”

“Don’t be silly,” Sigurd replied. “You need someone to take care of that cut. Look how much it’s bleeding. Just stay with me for now, alright? You’ll be fine.”

Dragging the younger man away from the horse, the prince escorted his friend into the longhouse as the sound of other voices started to reach his ears, bringing him a subtle sense of relief.

Through the tall archway ahead of them, Sigurd saw Arngeir, Ulfar, and his own father conversing with each other in the distance, pacing around the throne room as their words bounced off the wooden walls.

They were speaking in solemn tones that were sharpened with a hint of concern, and it sounded as if their discussion was about the very same subject that brought Sigurd here in the first place. Kjotve.

“Kjotve’s been quiet for too long,” Ulfar remarked, his mood laden with suspicion. “I don’t like it. For the first time in years, two of his primary enemies are in the same place, and yet, he does nothing to take advantage of the situation. Why? It’s not like him.”

Arngeir nodded in agreement. “I understand your concerns, old friend, but we have no reason to act yet. Our warriors have reported no sightings of Kjotve’s men in this region, and Styrbjorn says that his clan managed to reach Bjornheimr without encountering them at all. Let us not instill fear into our people’s hearts. This is meant to be a time of celebration.”

The other man wasn’t so sure. “All I’m saying is, if I were Kjotve, I’d take this opportunity to snuff out this alliance. I wouldn’t give my enemies the chance to band together against me. We should at least place some more defenses around the village; have more men on the lookout. We can’t take any risks, especially when we have a king in our company.”

Styrbjorn offered a compromise. “Perhaps there is another solution. Instead of using the resources to place more defenses, we can simply send a patrol into the surrounding areas. They can eradicate any threats they come across while we focus on getting this wedding in order. If the patrol finds something worth noting, then we will act.”

Sigurd jumped into the conversation. “No need, father. We already did.”

Turning towards sudden interruption, the three men brought their attention to the opposite end of the hall, only to freeze in shock when they noticed the startling amount of blood streaming down from Eivor’s face.

“Odin’s beard...!” Arngeir exclaimed under his breath, striding over to them. “What happened to you two?”

“Kjotve’s men,” the prince explained, meeting the jarl in the middle. “They ambushed us at the waterfall to the north.”

Ulfar glanced outside. “You mean the Tears of Ymir?”

Eivor nodded, his movements slothful due to exhaustion. “Yes. Sigurd and I were out for a ride... they leapt out of the trees like a pair of wolves.”

“And where are they now?”

Sigurd answered his question. “Dead. We managed to kill them. There were only two, but I suspect there could be more. We would be fools to let our guard down.” He turned to the younger man, throwing in another piece of information. “...Eivor saved my life today. If he hadn’t been there, I’d likely be dead by now.”

Styrbjorn gazed at Eivor, bowing his head in respect. “Is that true? Well then, you have my eternal gratitude, Wolf-Kissed.”

Ulfar crossed his arms, gesturing to Eivor’s injury. “You see? This is exactly what I’m talking about. We must take more precautions, otherwise this will surely happen again. Kjotve won’t back down.”

Arngeir let out a wary sigh, finally conceding the man’s point. “Very well, Ulfar. We shall proceed with your plan. Find Eirik, and gather a small party of men. Scout the woods around Bjornheimr. If you find anymore of Kjotve’s clan in the forest, kill them. And if possible, bring some back alive. The information they have could be invaluable.”

Ulfar gave him a firm nod. “Of course, my jarl. I’ll start immediately.”

“In the meantime,” Arngeir continued, addressing the prince, “Sigurd, could you please escort Eivor to the seeress? I hate to ask this of you since you’ve already done so much, but...”

“Have no fear.” Sigurd replied. “I’ll bring him to Ingrida.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it. And thank you for bringing my son back home as well. I don’t know what we would do without him.”

Arngeir began making his way to the war room, anxious to set his ideas in motion. “Anyways, we should return to our duties. The preparations for this wedding will continue as usual, but now I fear we must also focus on keeping Kjotve’s men at bay. He will return with a second strike -- this I am sure of -- and we must be ready. Otherwise, this alliance will have been for naught. Take great care in the days to come, all of you, and may the gods guide your path.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW MINUTES LATER

THE TEMPLE

Standing idly in the corner, Sigurd watched quietly as Ingrida frantically made her way around the hut and gathered a handful of materials, muttering to herself in frustration. Eivor was currently sitting in a chair not too far away from the prince and holding a rag to his face, preventing the blood from making any more of a mess.

Despite the pain he was experiencing however, Eivor appeared to be doing much better compared to how he was before. A healthy tint had returned to the surface of his skin, and the world seemed to realign itself the minute he sat down. He no longer felt as if the ground was going to drop out from underneath him, and Sigurd’s presence only added to his well-being.

Overall, he had returned to normal in spite of their chaotic morning, and suffered no more than what was probably going to be a deep scar in the future. A part of him admittedly worried about what it would look like in the days to come, but the other part was just happy to be alive.

Eivor could’ve been killed today after all, and he would’ve been lying if he said that didn’t frighten him.

“...Foolish boy,” Ingrida scolded under her breath. “Look at what you’ve done. Had the blade cut you any higher, you’d be missing an eye like Ulfar by now. And what if Sigurd hadn’t been there to bring you back? You’d be stranded in the woods, bleeding all over yourself.”

Eivor smirked at the seeress’ words, admittedly somewhat amused by her motherly nature.

“I know, Ingrida.” He replied affectionately. “I’m sorry.”

The elderly woman crouched down in front of Eivor and held his chin in place, snatching the rag from his grasp before dipping it in a fresh bowl of water.

“Thank the gods it was only two of Kjotve’s men. I shudder to think about what could’ve happened if there had been any more. You’re both warriors of great skill, but even you’re not invincible. You must be more careful in the future. Do you understand?”

“...Yes, Ingrida.”

The seeress sighed and shook her head, twisting the rag dry of any excess water. “Good. It is a great honor to walk through the gates of Valhalla, but we needn’t rush the journey there. There are plenty of ways to reach the Corpse Hall, and none to return. Remember that.”

She paused for a second and glanced around in confusion, clearly searching for something.

“Where have my herbs gone?” She wondered aloud. “I had them right here. Did I--”

The woman let out an annoyed tsk and stood up from the floor, turning to address Sigurd.

“Sigurd,” Ingrida said, handing him the rag, “I need to collect some more ingredients before I can treat Eivor’s wound. Would you ensure that it stays clean in the meantime?”

The prince took the cloth, mindful not to touch the area that would make contact with Eivor’s face. “Of course, seeress.”

“Thank you. I won’t take long. Just wipe the blood away, and make sure it doesn’t get infected. I’ll be back shortly.”

Taking her leave from the hut, Ingrida strode through the door at a brisk pace and headed into the nearby gardens, gently rattling the charms that hung from the frame on her way out. They swayed into each other with a series of faint clinks and twirled calmly in the breeze, morphing the sunlight that flowed through the archway.

Meanwhile, Eivor stayed in place as Sigurd quickly took the seeress’ position and knelt in front of his friend, attentively looking after his wound. He dipped the rag in the water and wiped away the streaks of blood staining the other man’s face, careful not to apply too much pressure.

His touch was delicate and soft contrary to what Eivor expected, and as time went on, the younger man actually started to feel comfortable under his care. Initially, he found it a bit odd to be in such close proximity to someone he hardly even knew, but surprisingly, Sigurd didn’t appear to reflect his timidness.

Instead, the prince simply leaned closer to Eivor and continued to clean his cut, seemingly preoccupied with something else. His brow was crinkled in deep thought as he wrestled with his inner concerns, and his eyes had returned to the same look of lostness that he had when they first met. A cloud of remorse dimmed the usual twinkle in his gaze, and his expression hung low with a grim sense of conflict.

A thousand things seemed to be colliding inside Sigurd’s head at the moment, and yet -- as always -- he cared to share none of them.

So, finally, Eivor decided to ask.

“...Are you alright, Sigurd?” He suddenly said, causing his friend to pause. “You look troubled.”

The prince woke up from his state of contemplation and locked eyes with Eivor, faltering as if he had forgotten where he was.

“Oh, I’m... I’m fine, Eivor.” Sigurd replied. “I just...”

The older man sighed deeply and placed the rag down for a moment, slouching his shoulders in defeat.

“...Forgive me. I lost myself in thought. I was just thinking about everything that happened in the forest earlier, and... well, I’m sorry.”

Eivor cocked a brow at him. “Sorry? For what? You can’t possibly think this is your fault.”

Sigurd’s tone hardened with guilt. “But it is. I should’ve known better than to drag you into the woods with Kjotve’s men still threatening our shores, especially when there’s an alliance in the making. They’ve already caused both our clans an abundance of issues, and yet, I thought it wise to wander into the forest alone. If you hadn’t been there, gods only know what would’ve happened to me.”

He gave Eivor a glance of sincere gratitude. “Thank you, my friend. You saved me from my own foolishness.”

The younger man deemed the apology unnecessary. “Don’t forget that you saved me too, Sigurd. Without you, I probably wouldn’t have gotten back to the village in time. I was... actually surprised when you didn’t mention that to your father.”

“It wasn’t important.” Sigurd stated. “I was the one who put you in danger to begin with.”

“No,” his friend insisted. “You weren’t. Kjotve’s men are the ones who would’ve killed us. If anything, you protected me when I was most vulnerable. I don’t like being the one who needs to be rescued, but you saved my life, Sigurd. There’s no denying that. I owe you as much as you owe me.”

Sigurd smiled warmly at the sentiment, appearing slightly more relaxed than before. “Then I suppose we’re even.”

Eivor chuckled at him in return. “...I suppose we are.”

Falling silent for a second, the prince retreated to the safe haven buried inside his mind and returned to the task Ingrida assigned him with, dabbing away some more blood that was gathering on Eivor’s skin. A familiar type of affection now softened the edges of his usually stern gaze, and without even realizing it, Sigurd found himself peering longingly into the Wolf-Kissed’s eyes.

He seemed to be experiencing the same emotions that Eivor had been continuously battling with ever since encountering his new friend, and much like the younger man, Sigurd’s first response was to stifle these feelings.

It may have been no more than a spark for now, but he knew better than to dismiss the sincerity of the embers flickering in his heart. He could feel something more profound brewing beneath the surface, and he doubted he’d be able to fight against it if he allowed it to blossom any further.

At the same time though, Sigurd wondered if this was what the gods intended. Originally, he assumed that the Nornir brought him to Bjornheimr for the sake of meeting his future wife, but now... he could see that they led him here for someone else.

Randvi may’ve been the one he came here for, but Sigurd could already tell she wouldn’t be the reason he was going to stay -- and the realization shook him to the core.

“...Sigurd?” Eivor repeated, speaking quieter than usual. “Is everything alright? You look like you have something to say.”

The prince remained sullen with disconcertment and attempted to straighten out his thoughts, unsure of how to put them into words.

“You know, Eivor...” Sigurd whispered vehemently, “...when that man struck you with his blade, part of me truly believed you had been killed for a moment. You were completely motionless, and there was so much blood pooling on the snow beneath you. It... it frightened me. I’m aware that we haven’t known each other for that long, but...”

He trailed off into silence, causing Eivor to urge him on. “...But what?”

Sigurd let out a breath, completely forgetting about the other man’s wound for the time-being. “...Part of me is already afraid of losing you. I know it sounds silly, considering we’ve only just met.”

The younger man shook his head, admittedly touched by the confession. “No, I... I think I understand how you feel, actually. You and I have only seen each other twice in just as many days, and yet, it almost seems as if I’ve known you for much longer than that. There’s just... something there. Something that I don’t have the words to describe.”

“Indeed. I know what you speak of. Ever since we first met at the feast, I’ve had this foreign sensation blooming inside me, but I never thought to bring it up out of the fear of sounding deluded. So I’m relieved you understand.”

Eivor laughed softly at himself, giving the prince a tender look. “You know what’s strange, Sigurd? I hardly delve into these kinds of conversations with anyone else. Typically, Ulfar is the only one who can engage with me in such a way, but... it feels completely natural around you. You draw it out of me like it’s nothing. I enjoy our talks.”

The prince wiped away some more blood, unintentionally allowing his hand to linger on Eivor’s cheek.

“It gladdens me to hear it. Perhaps we can meet again before the wedding occurs. Hopefully under less dire circumstances. Only if you want to, of course.”

The Wolf-Kissed beamed radiantly. “I’d like that.”

Bringing their discussion to a halt, Ingrida suddenly came barging back inside with a bowl of new ingredients in her hand, causing Sigurd to retreat his hand as if he had touched an open flame.

Meanwhile, the seeress hastily shooed him to the side and took his place in front of the injured man, wasting no time in tending to Eivor’s wound.

“Hold still.” She instructed, dipping her fingers into the herbal mixture. She grabbed his chin and began applying the ointment, ensuring that it covered the entire area. “This will stop the bleeding and prevent it from getting infected. Keep it on for the rest of the day. Do not wipe it off. Understand?”

Eivor nodded, only to have his head wrenched back into place by Ingrida’s firm hold. “Of course, Ingrida.”

“Good. The sword cut you deep, but thankfully, you should have no more than a scar to remind you of your carelessness today. If the wound starts to swell, come see me again. We’ll sort you out. Otherwise, just make sure that it doesn’t fester.”

“I will. Thank you, seeress. For everything.”

The old woman released Eivor from her grasp and rose to her feet, allowing the young man to walk free. She patted her hands clean of any ointment that remained on the skin and brought the bowls back to their shelves, emptying the diverse range of contents that sat in them.

“You’re welcome, little cub.”

She turned to the prince, giving him a small bow of respect. “And thank you, Sigurd, for looking after him. Despite his recklessness, Eivor holds a special place in our heart. We would be lost without him. I know many folks will be grateful for your assistance as well.”

The man returned the bow with a smile. “I only did what I felt was right.”

Ingrida thought to herself for a moment, crossing her arms in ponder. “Hm. Perhaps I misjudged you. The gods advised me to be wary of your arrival, but so far, you’ve done nothing to lend merit to their warnings. I trust it will stay that way?”

Sigurd nodded assuredly. “Of course, seeress.”

“Good. Then I can rest easy, for I know Eivor will be in good hands. Anyway, you should return to your duties. I’ve occupied you for long enough. Take care of yourself in these troubling times, and stay away from the woods. We needn’t tempt the Valkyries anymore. In the meantime, Eivor, I’d like to have a word with you.”

The prince strolled towards the exit and glanced over his shoulder, saying one last thing to the other man before taking his leave.

“I’ll meet you outside when you’re ready, Eivor.”

Removing himself from the vicinity, Sigurd gave the seeress some space to talk as he stepped back out into the wintry air, practically being slapped in the face by an icy chill. The temperature had barely warmed up since their escapade in the forest, and the only thing providing the village any sort of heat was sun’s exuberant rays, trying desperately to pierce through the glacial breeze.

As for Ingrida, she approached Eivor as soon as the other man was gone and kept her voice low, making sure that Sigurd wouldn’t overhear them. Her gaze seemed to be stuck on the prince’s distant figure, and the hushed manner in which she spoke led Eivor to suspect that she knew more than she was letting on.

“Listen to me, young cub,” the seeress murmured as she continued to clean the hut. “It is a dangerous path you walk. I would advise abandoning it as soon as possible.”

The viking blinked in confusion, uncertain of what she was talking about. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. What path?”

Ingrida tilted her head towards Sigurd. “Do not think me blind, Eivor. I see how you look at him. It is the same way my son Eirik looks at Thora. Your heart is fueled by passion, but it will only lead you into disaster.”

Eivor chuckled, admittedly impressed by the woman’s instincts. “Is it truly so obvious?”

“Indeed. I’ve never seen your soul burn so brightly before. This man ignites something within you... and you must snuff it out. For the sake of this marriage.”

The young man attempted to reassure her. “Have no fear, Ingrida. I won’t allow these thoughts to spiral beyond my control. I understand the necessity of this alliance. I wouldn’t put it in jeopardy.”

The seeress decided to let go of the topic for now, albeit reluctantly. “If you say so, Eivor. But this kind of love is not restrained so easily. Trying to control it is like trying to control the ocean. See that it does not overwhelm you.”

“I will, Ingrida. You don’t need to worry about me.”

The woman snickered. “On the contrary, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

Ingrida stepped in front of Eivor, smiling proudly at him. “Ah, but you are a man now. The way ahead is your own. How you decide to tread its waters is up to you. I cannot guarantee it will be safe, but I trust that you will approach it with wisdom.”

She flicked a dismissive hand towards the door and turned her back to Eivor, focusing on the collection of scattered herbs lying throughout the hut.

“But enough of that. Your friend is waiting for you, and I have work to do. Come see me again if your wound deteriorates. We should be able to take care of it with no problem.”

Eivor waved goodbye to the elderly woman, making his way out the door.

“Farewell, Ingrida. Stay safe. And thank you again. I’ll speak with you soon.”

“You too, Eivor. Be careful out there.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A LITTLE LATER

Sauntering away from the warmth of the seeress’ hut, Eivor strolled out into the open once again and pushed himself through the arctic weather, squinting in the light that suddenly hit his eyes. A calming wind could be felt whistling through the heart of the village, and stretching out in front of him, the young man saw a trail of sunken footprints leading to Sigurd himself.

At the moment, the prince was sitting on a bench next to the row of statues that towered over Bjornheimr and waiting patiently for Eivor to rejoin him, undeniably curious about what Ingrida had to say.

He fidgeted with his hands in an anxious manner and stuck to his own thoughts, not even realizing that he had company again. His ears were seemingly deaf to the series of footsteps that crunched their way towards him, and when Eivor’s first greeting didn’t manage to catch his attention, the younger man repeated his name even louder, throwing a puzzled look at him.

“Sigurd?”

The redheaded viking jolted his head towards the intrusion, shifting his mood entirely once he laid eyes on Eivor.

“Ah, Eivor. There you are.”

The Wolf-Kissed laughed, placing a foot on the bench. “Has anyone ever told you that you get lost in your thoughts easily?”

A grin spread across Sigurd’s face. “My father, Dag, our own seeress... the list goes on. I fear it’s a habit of mine that I’ve not been able to discard.”

Eivor rested an arm on his knee. “You must have a lot on your mind to constantly slip into a trance like that.”

“Who doesn’t? Especially nowadays?”

He shrugged. “Fair enough.”

The prince turned around to face his companion, gazing upwards with an expression of embarrassment.

“Listen, Eivor... I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable during our conversation earlier. I realize I opened myself up quite a bit. Perhaps even too much. I hope I didn’t overstep my boundaries.”

The younger man shook his head. “Stop apologizing for everything. You did nothing wrong. In fact, I enjoyed the talk we had. So there’s no need to fret.”

Sigurd sighed in relief. “That’s good to hear. Your feelings are important to me. The last thing I want is to back you into a corner.”

Eivor put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Believe me, I’ll let you know if that ever happens. There won’t be any need for guessing.”

The older man smirked at that. “Sounds good to me.”

Sigurd stood up from the bench and stretched the stiffness out of his neck, eager to get back to their normal lives.

“Shall I walk you back to the longhouse?” He offered, gesturing to the distant building. “I imagine you want some rest after everything that’s happened.”

Eivor smiled fondly at him, not quite ready to part ways just yet. “Actually, I was planning to visit the tavern. I could use a hot meal right now. And a good drink as well. Care to join me?”

“Are you sure? I assumed you would’ve gotten tired of me by now.” Sigurd joked.

The other man threw an alluring glance at him, strolling ahead of the prince as he steadily trekked down the path snaking away from the temple.

“Not in the slightest.”

#hjarta #assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #sigurd styrbjornson #eivor wolfkissed #eivor wolfsmal #eivor varinsson #male eivor #sigurd x male eivor #ac valhalla fanfic

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crowdvscritic · 3 years

Text

round up // MARCH + APRIL 21

March and April were a whirlwind of vaccines and awards shows! A full year after we starting staying at home, the end of this weird chapter in recent history seems like it might finally be coming to a close, and this pop culture awards season—typically a time full of fun and glamour—captured our moment weirdly well. (Emphasis on the weird.) This month’s recommendations is filled with more Critic Picks than usual, so without further delay, let’s dive right in...

March + April Crowd-Pleasers

Double Feature — 2018 Action Thrillers: Bad Times at the El Royale + Den of Thieves

In Bad Times at the El Royale (Crowd: 9/10, // Critic: 8/10), Jeff Bridges, Cynthia Erivo, Jon Hamm, Chris Hemsworth, and Dakota Johnson are staying at a motel on the California-Nevada state line full of money, murder, and mystery. In Den of Thieves (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 6.5/10), Gerard Butler takes on some of the best bank robbers in the world. Whether you like your action with a dose of mystery or the thrills of plot twists, these will fit the bill.

Double Feature — ‘80s Comedies: Caddyshack (1980) + Splash (1984)

In the mood for pure silliness? Take your pick between a mermaid and a gopher! Five years before The Little Mermaid, Tom Hanks fell for Daryl Hannah’s blonde hair and scaly tail, and John Candy was his goofy brother in Splash (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7/10). And four years before Ghostbusters, Bill Murray was the goof on a golf course full of funny people like Chevy Chase, Rodney Dangerfield, and Ted Knight in Caddyshack (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 6.5/10).

Double Feature — 1980s Coming-of-Age Films Starring Corey Feldman, Kiefer Sutherland, and Challenging Brother Relationships That Influenced Stranger Things: Stand by Me (1986) + The Lost Boys (1987)

Believe it or not, I had no idea these two ‘80s classics had so much in common when I chose to watch them back-to-back. In Rob Reiner’s adaptation of Stephen King’s Stand by Me (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 9/10), four kids (Feldman, Jerry O’Connell, River Phoenix, and Wil Wheaton) are following train tracks to find a missing body. In The Lost Boys (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7/10), Corey Haim and Jason Patric move to a small California town and discover it’s full of ‘80s movie star cameos and…vampires? One is a thoughtful coming-of-age story and one is just bonkers, but both are a great time.

Spaceman by Nick Jonas (2021)

My love for the Jonas Brothers is well-documented, so instead of going down the rabbit hole I started digging at 15, I’ll talk about how Nick Jonas’s latest solo album will likely appeal to a wider audience than just the fans of the brothers’ bombastic pop records. It’s full of catchy tunes you’ll play on repeat and an R&B-influenced album experience about the loneliness we’ve experienced in the last year and how we try to make long-term relationships work.

Ted Lasso (2020- )

I love stories about nice people crushing cruelty and cynicism with relentless kindness, and Ted Lasso (Jason Sudeikis) is the warmest, most dedicated leader this side of Leslie Knope. Be sure to catch up on these witty and sweet 10 episodes before season 2 drops later this summer.

Double Feature — Tony Scott Action Flicks: Enemy of the State (1998) + The Taking of Pelham 123 (2009)

Tony Scott’s movies have got explosions and excitement in spades. I love a good man-on-the-run movie, and in Enemy of the State (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/10), Will Smith is running through the streets of D.C. after getting evidence of a politician’s (Jon Voight) part in a murder. I also love a tense story set in a confined space, which is what Denzel Washington is dealing with in The Taking of Pelham 123 (Crowd: 9.5/10 // Critic: 7/10) after a hammy John Travolta takes a New York subway train hostage.

Double Feature — Baseball Movies: The Natural (1984) + Trouble With the Curve (2012)

Sue me—I love baseball movies. Robert Redford plays a fictional all-time great in the early days of the MLB in The Natural (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 9/10), and Clint Eastwood plays a fictional all-time great scout in his late career in Trouble With the Curve (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7.5/10). If you love baseball or actors like Amy Adams, Glenn Close, Robert Duvall, and Justin Timberlake, these movies are just right here waiting for you.

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Nate Bargatze: The Greatest Average American (2021)

Sue me—I enjoy Netflix standup comedy specials that are safe enough to watch with your whole family. That’s exactly the crowd I laughed with over Easter weekend, and while the trailer captures Bargatze’s relaxed vibe, it doesn’t capture how funny he really is.

The Mighty Ducks (1992)

I thought somewhere in my childhood I’d seen at least one of The Mighty Ducks movies, but after watching all three, I think my memories must’ve come from previews on the VHS tapes for other Disney movies I watched over and over again. The original still holds up as an grown-ups, which is why even my parents got sucked in to this family movie while just passing through the living room. Bonus for ‘80s movies lovers: Emilio Estevez is basically continuing Andrew Clark’s story from The Breakfast Club as an adult. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 6.5/10

Double Feature — New, Dumb Action on Streaming: Godzilla vs. Kong + Thunder Force (2021)

If you want something intelligent, go ahead and skip to the next recommendation, but if you’re looking for something stupid fun, these are ready for you on HBO Max and Netflix. Thunder Force (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 6/10) follows Melissa McCarthy and Octavia Spencer as they train to become superheroes who take on superhuman sociopaths wreaking havoc on Chicago, and alongside Jason Bateman, they do it with a lot of laughs. Godzilla vs. Kong (Crowd: 9.5/10 // Critic: 5/10) is, um, exactly what it sounds like, so I’ll skip a plot summary and just say it’s exactly what you want from this kind of movie. #TeamKong

3:10 to Yuma (2007)

All you need to know is Russell Crowe is an outlaw, and Christian Bale is the guy who’s got to get him on the train to prison. I also watched the 1957 version, which is also a solid watch if you love classic Westerns. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/10

Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021)

Marvel’s newest series isn’t nearly as inventive as WandaVision, and it may not land every beat, but it’s worth a watch for the fun new gadgets, Sebastian Stan’s dry joke delivery, and its exploration into themes of what makes a hero and what governments owe their citizens. It’s a pretty satisfying entry in the MCU canon, but I’d also recommend re-watching Captain America: Winter Soldier and Civil War—the canon is getting expansive, and it’s getting trickier every year to keep up with all the backstory.

March + April Critic Picks

Best of 2020 Picks

As per usual, the months leading up to the Oscars becomes a binge period for potential Oscar nominees. In March and April, I watched many of the films that made my Top 20 of 2020, including Boys State, The Father, Judas and the Black Messiah, Let Them All Talk, Minari, Nomadland, On the Rocks, One Night in Miami…, Promising Young Woman, Soul, and Sound of Metal. You can read how I ranked them on my list for ZekeFilm, plus reviews of The Father, Minari, Promising Young Woman, and Soul.

Bonus: If you loved On the Rocks, don’t miss this feature and beautiful photography starring Sofia Coppola, Kirsten Dunst, Elle Fanning, and Rashida Jones for W Magazine.

Stranger Than Fiction (2006)

What would you do if you started hearing a voice who narrated your every thought and move? If you’re Will Ferrell, you’ll seek out a literary professor (Dustin Hoffman), fall in love (with Maggie Gyllenhaal), and track down the voice (Emma Thompson) who’s making ominous predictions about your future. Stranger Than Fiction is funny thought-provoking, and an unusual but welcome role for Ferrell. Crowd: 9.5/10 // Critic: 9/10

All the Royal Family News

Speaking of stranger than fiction, it’s been a busy few months for the Royal Family. We’ve celebrated 95th birthday of Queen Elizabeth, the 3rd birthday of Prince Louis, and the 10th anniversary of Will and Kate’s marriage. We also lost Prince Philip, and we watched the drama of Harry and Meaghan’s interview with Oprah. No matter what happens to their Crown, I don’t think we’ll ever get over our fascination with the Windsor family. A few pieces worth reading from the last few months:

“In Meghan and Harry’s Interview, Two TV Worlds Collided,” Vulture.com

“The Queen’s Man: Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, Dies,” TIME.com

“Obituary: HRH The Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh,” BBC.com

Goodfellas (1990)

One of my film opinions that makes me feel like a phony is that Martin Scorsese just isn’t my cup of tea. He’s brilliant, but his films tend to be long and dark, two qualities that are never my first choice…and somehow Goodfellas still worked for me? Maybe it was the TV edit graciously toning down the violence or maybe it was that Ray Liotta and Joe Pesci were firing on all cylinders, but for some reason this ‘90s classic didn’t suck the joy out of my evening like Scorsese often does. (Bonus: For a Martin Scorsese/Robert De Niro I don’t really recommend, head to the last section of this Round Up.)

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Fearless (Taylor’s Version) (2021)

Her voice has only matured, so Taylor Swift revisiting her old albums is like upgrading a blast to the past. Plus, the six new tracks make me feel like 15 crushing on that boy in Spanish class again, and her Grammys performance (just before her third Album of the Year win) was magical and folklore-tastic.

Double Feature — ‘60s Action Classics: The Guns of Navarone (1961) + Planet of the Apes (1968)

The Guns of Navarone (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8.5/10) follows Gregory Peck and David Niven as they destroy Nazi weapons in the Mediterranean. Planet of the Apes (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8.5/10) follows Charlton Heston as he attempts to escape from, well, a planet full of apes. The pacing of ‘60s films doesn’t always hold up, but that’s not the case with this pair. Both are still full of suspense, and you can’t go wrong hanging with casts like these.

Let Him Go (2020)

Kevin Costner and Diane Lane play a farming couple who unexpectedly help raise a boy who lost his biological father—sound familiar? But instead of a superhero origin story, they’re part of a thrilling Western with performances nuanced (Costner and Lane) and showy (Lesley Manville). If I’d watched this before completing my Best of 2020 piece, it likely would’ve been on my list. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

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The Oscars

I’m a ride-or-die fan of the Academy Awards, but I’ll admit even I found this year’s ceremony odd. Instead of focusing on what wasn’t so hot, I’ll recommend a few moments you don’t want to miss:

Emerald Fennell giving a shout-out to Saved by the Bell

Daniel Kaluuya acknowledging his parents’ sex life during his acceptance speech (??)

Yuh-Jung Yoon flirting with Brad Pitt and acknowledging she’s just “luckier” than her fellow nominees

Glenn Close dancing to…”Da Butt”?

You can also read about the historic wins and nominations from this year’s Oscar class and why the Golden Globes were an even stranger production weeks earlier.

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Trailer-palooza!

Movies are on their way back, y’all! I’m counting down the days until I can get back to a theatre, and even if some of these movies are duds, I’m planning to see all of them on a big screen if possible:

Those Who Wish Me Dead (May 14)

Cruella (May 28)

In the Heights (June 11)

Space Jam 2 (July 16)

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings (September 3)

West Side Story (December 10)

Also in March + April…

To add to the Oscars love, you can listen to a conversation about what we learn about family, community, and society in some of the year’s biggest nominees on the Uncommon Voices podcast. I join regular hosts Michael and Kenneth in this episode, and I recommend all of their thoughtful discussions on their “What’s Streaming” episodes.

I’ve previously recommended the Do You Like Apples weekly newsletter, so I’m proud to share I contributed twice in March! I wrote about Love and Basketball, directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood, and one of my all-time favorite Julia Roberts rom-coms, Notting Hill. (I also tied to win their Oscars pool, but I suppose that’s less exciting for you than me.)

It was a busy couple of months on SO IT’S A SHOW! New logo, new email list, new Instagram, and a host of new episodes about a flop of a Madonna flick, a Swedish children’s TV show, an urban legend turned into a horror movie, one of the best films about journalism ever, and a Martin Scorsese movie about a real boxer.

Most of what I wrote for ZekeFilm in March and April was mentioned in Best of 2020 recommendations…except for The Nest, a film that couldn’t figure out what genre it wanted to be.

Photo credits: Nick Jonas, Royal Family. All others IMDb.com.

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grim-faux · 3 years

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06_Lash of Doubt

First

Something was wrong here, that much was apparent.

This was where it should end. Predestined or whatever it was called; they couldn’t help but struggle to flee this cruel, broken record replaying a distorted harmony of the end of the road. Never the same, but always the inescapable conclusion. And he was so tired, and he didn’t have that sort of fight in him. Everything he could’ve wanted was gone, the world was terrible. His younger-self would learn that hard lesson, as did he.

That stubborn boy, at his wits end, fighting and running himself haggard to reach the cities center. Struggled against odds that far outclassed him, an agent against the world – a world that wanted him dead and forgotten.

But he would retaliate. Oh, how he would lash out, use every ounce of his strength in one final hurrah, and revel in what he was capable of. And he – the twisted shadow of the child – was only an agent to demonstrate what could be. As before, he would fail. They will succeed and fall in the same breath. It was not his conclusion, it was the child’s comeuppance. He would be no match against that fire, a child that has studiously decided “enough is ENOUGH”.

It was depressing and tragic, but it was the one thing – the only thing – he ever wanted when he was little. Turn on his tormentors and fight. Dear-dear, how much he missed that person he was, the youthful confidence, boundless tenacity. That used to be him. That was once him.

But something has gone very wrong, it was apparent now. The child barely glanced up since his perilous crossing – that ordeal nearly made him choke on the air. But the boy would not react, and only seemed to cower further into himself as his shadow loomed.

This was not correct. He puzzled, slowing his steps, almost cautious and fearful himself. Something was wrong here, this boy was about to die. He knew this. There was no other way it could end, and it must’ve been excruciating at this point, to sit and wallow here. He wouldn’t be able to spare him if he waited there and accepted this fate. And he couldn’t perish from this endless nightmare, unless the child willed it – wanted it – more than anything else in the world.

It startled him when the boy did leap back, at long last. He straightened up, prepared for something, at this point he wasn’t certain what it would be. The boy scouted his surroundings as he back peddled, skipping dangerously close to the chasms edge. He didn’t move to impede, perplexed by this trick. The child looked this and that way, the eye holes in the paper bag always flashing back to the tall figure poised in his path.

This was becoming frustrating; there was no place to run! Out in the open like this, how far are you going to travel before you are snared! Stop stalling!

The Thin Man swooped his arms out, blotting out the meager range the child could work in. But the child braced himself, first checking his shoulder and the figure there, before coiling into a run – completely missing the hand sweeping low behind his back. In the blind spot of his mask.

Once the fingers latched around his chest, he went ballistic… or as ballistic as an exhausted youngling could manage. He was not lifted off the road just yet, but thrashed desperately to haul himself away, or dislodge his body. Shockingly, he seemed to have more energy than anticipated. He clawed, wriggled, twisted, grumbled, flailed – at the fist locked tight.

The rain hummed, intermixed with the static swirling and the breeze kicked up. The Thin Man struggled to comprehend this. Why was it… so easy? How was this allowed? No, it had to be a trick, a trap of some sort. It couldn’t be… had he? It couldn’t end like this. This was not possible.

He moved his other hand, but withdrew the thought. The child kept glancing up at him, terrified eyes glinting within the holes of the paper bag. He… the elder, was never caught. Not like this. But he could feel that uncontested horror and helplessness, the agony of not knowing what manner of awful fate awaited.

Was this really an opportunity to break the cycle? It couldn’t be. Simply said, it was inconceivable. This winding, knotted path was still ongoing. What has always been, shall always be. Why wasn’t this child fighting back!?

Then it dawned on him, the epitome of why this Mono could not challenge him.

He was frightened and hurt, as he always was when racing to the Signal Tower with reckless abandon. But the resolute was gone. Drained completely. If possible, in the face of this cruel world where everything was an enemy to one so defenseless, the child couldn’t bring himself to fight his greatest antagonist. This facet made possible, only on account that the same fiend that robbed his friend away… had also saved him. And that made the current child, as helpless and ill-equipped against his future shadow. They couldn’t do this. It was wasn’t… in their nature. It was a stalemate.

Of all the absurdity! The irony! He didn’t need to hound these children to the ends of the world, intent on their destruction and his vengeance. He only needed to save them. Once! To break the cycle. The one thing, the only thing, he could never fathom – the prospect of which never presented itself in his presence. Broke the entire thing.

The boy had exhausted himself to the point of utter collapse. He lay folded over the fingers, head tilted enough to keep one eyehole of the paper mask fixated on the towering nightmare holding him captive. One arm looped over the index finger, flexed and unclenched as if still struggling for escape, but void wholly of the essential reserves that would ignite such a feat.

The Thin Man suspected, if he released the child now he might still have the spark in him to flee. As initially planned. He set Mono down and stood back.

The boy crumpled to the rocky pavement, spent to his last frayed thread. Maybe he thought he was destroyed. The Thin Man waited, regarding the catatonic child, and what should be done about this. This was something dangerous to tamper with, knowing how these events should unfold, but unfamiliar with… how to manage now.

Leaving him was the option. The more viable option, if he were honest, since he was certain no harm could come to Mono even in this desolate place they had moved to convene on. But it was not what he anticipated, and he shouldn’t be here right now. Or, he didn’t want to see this happen, and he was unsettled. There was something more as well, but he stashed the thought aside for the time.

He knelt and reached for the little body. Mono winced. He was saying something, but it didn’t sound…. sorted. The words he used had no substance. He should know that speek.

…………………………………TuNe The TRanSMiSsion………………………………..

That would destroy the child. Break the cycle. Unless… he did it to himself. He hadn’t tried since he was very little, this was the child’s task now. Nonetheless, he raised a hand to his hat. A little nudge, gently. Pick through a shared frequency….

The distortion was miniscule, however, the child still jolted and tried to resurrect some remaining strength that was nonexistent. Cautiously, the Thin Man focused. This proximity should have done the other in. It must not have been pleasant, the child shuddered and reached a hand to his mask….

the voice was frail and difficult to collect. But there it was. A voice.

Don’t. Don’t….

The Thin Man stalled. He hadn’t heard that voice in years. “Did hurt you?” The child turned his head an inch, the bag soaked through clung to his head.

Her.

The Thin Man lowered his hand and rubbed the spot where she bit him. That was not as unexpected, though it did surprise him. “No.” Once more he tried, “Did I hurt you?” The paper bag sagged slightly, as the child withdrew his gaze. “Answer me.”

No response.

With a sigh of static, the Thin Man reached out and set his hands around the child, this time cupping him carefully. It didn’t stop the twitching, but the movement was restrained by lack of energy and focus. Mono did manage to crane his head back enough to gawk, but it was apparent his mind was going quiet and dark, to a place that would buffer him from certain agony.

The Thin Man observed his surroundings, deducing on the better direction. He wasn’t interested in traversing the transmission or returning to the tower at all. That in itself might kill the boy in his current state, being he was not fitted to deal with the properties of that place. Still, he needed to get him out of the downpour.

He cast his view upward, to the ghastly beacon signal of the tallest building of Pale City. Waiting and Observing, always watching. It was a wonderful reprieve to have left, but this freedom was fleeting as it always was.

#little nightmares #little nightmares fanfic #little nightmares fanfiction #mono fanfic #the thin man fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #the man in the hat #ln #little nightmares 2

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hopeswriting · 3 years

Text

KHR Jujutsu Kaisen AU Part 2

About the Vongola Tenth Gen and the Kokuyo gang. Spoilers for JJK.

Here’s part 1 with the Arco.

Here’s part 3 with the Varia & Bianchi & Dino.

WORDS: 1814

Yamamoto scouts Tsuna to become a member of the Occult club on the promise they’re just chilling and not actually doing anything.

Tsuna accepts because 1) not doing anything, and 2) “See mom and dad? I’m in a club, I do have a school life and here’s are my hopefully-to-be-friends club members, so please get off my back and thank you.”

(Yes Iemitsu is a present and good dad in this.)

(He retired from the Jujutsu Sorcerers (JS) business when Nana got pregnant and never looked back.)

(He does deal with low level Cursed Spirits (CS) on the daily if only to keep their neighborhood safe.)

Yamamoto and Tsuna are on “clean the instrument shelter” duty (or something lol idk), and find the cursed charm.

Tsuna instantly has a very very bad feeling about this.

“Yamamoto please don’t pick it up.”

“Yamamoto please don’t open it.”

“Yamamoto I’m begging you don’t bring this up to Gokudera-kun and Haru-chan.”

Yamamoto laughs it all off and doesn’t listen. He brings it up to Gokudera and Haru. Gokudera and Haru instantly want to unwrap the charm.

Tsuna does not meet up with them at school that night, and only feels a little bit guilty about this. (Listen, he did his best alright?)

He does run into Hibari on his way to the grocery store.

Hibari says very little and doesn’t explain shit but makes it clear his friends are about to die.

Tsuna runs to school with him.

The cursed charm is a disgusting weirdly clean eyeball Tsuna ends up swallowing because this Hibari guy is losing and they’re all hurt and it’s pretty obvious they’re all going to die.

(In a parallel universe of this AU Haru is the one who swallows the cursed charm because she’s batshit crazy like that and never shied away of the consequences of her batshit craziness, and all I’m saying is some fun things happen in this parallel AU too.)

(But it’s not the AU we're talking about right now.)

The CS the eyeball belongs to is Byakuran.

It’s BYAKURAN OMGGG ASDFGHJKL!

(I’m sorry but the idea just punched me in the face and just fits this crack treated “seriously” AU and I’m a fucking genius actually.)

(Anyway Byakuran revives and all over Japan his Guardians do too.)

(I will not elaborate this side plot further.)

Byakuran deals with the CS and then beats up Hibari, and it earns Tsuna Hibari’s everlasting interest.

Tsuna, not Byakuran.

This is not a good thing.

Tsuna doesn’t even want his interest.

It’s the worst fucking night of Tsuna’s life.

(Except it’s only just the beginning asdfgh.)

------

Iemitsu badly hints at Tsuna he’s a retired JS and if he ever needs help for anything he can just let him know.

Tsuna doesn’t catch the hints and never let him know of anything.

Yamamoto, Gokudera and Haru aren’t exactly invited to the Tokyo school but good thing they don’t give a fuck about that. Wherever Tsuna goes they go.

(Also Tsuna saved them and it’s all their fault to begin with, and they aren’t about to let him go into this mess alone.)

Ryohei and Kyoko are second years at the Tokyo school.

Former-rich-boy Gokudera and from-the-countryside Ryohei instantly rub each other the wrong way.

Haru “I’m weak for pretty faces that hide slyness and cunning” and Kyoko “batshit crazy is the only normal I want in my life” hit it off right off the bat.

“Predictable and simple man” Tsuna instantly gets a crush on Kyoko.

Hibari is a third year student, the third year student, and doesn’t leave Tsuna alone. It has the unfortunate consequences (for Hibari) of him getting acquainted with the rest of the Vongola Tenth Gen (VTG).

Mukuro is a third year student at the Kyoto school. He meets the VTG during the Goodwill Event.

------

Both Ryohei AND Kyoko are the Aoi Todo of this AU. Except Kyoko keeps it strictly to the battlefields while it’s just Ryohei’s default state lol.

Ryohei is the immovable object while she is the unstoppable force.

Ryohei specializes in the medical field because of his technique that allows him to overpower cursed energy damages by the sheer strength (and healing properties) of his own cursed energy and effectively canceling them (or something lol idk), so he’s not that often on the battlefields.

But when he is and Kyoko is right there by his side and they team up against a common enemy?

Oh boy, no one ever knows what hits them.

They proudly represent Japan countryside and intend to honor it.

------

Hibari is a Gojou who doesn’t have any techniques (but does have cursed energy), and uses cursed tools to fight, and had to prove his worth all the way to being the top student of the Tokyo school.

Mukuro is a Zen’in and a prodigy like the clan didn’t see in a long time and was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

Mukuro overpowers Hibari during the Goodwill Event and wounds his pride.

Hibari backs him in a corner during round two and wounds Mukuro’s pride.

Thus an everlasting rivalry between the two is born.

No one else gives a shit about it and they sure as fuck don’t try to intervene.

Round three just keeps happening again and again because of course they’ll never agree on who’s the best between them.

------

Gokudera is the only one among the VTG who doesn’t have cursed energy. He doesn’t let that stop him.

He reads all of Verde researches from beginning to end and then backwards and then makes his own researches, and it ends up not mattering much at all.

(Also he becomes a Verde stan second, and a human being third.)

(He’s a Tsuna stan first and foremost.)

He projects his insecurities onto “natural born JS” Yamamoto and one-sidedly starts a rivalry between the two. He thinks Yamamoto choosing to fight with a cursed tool when he has perfectly working cursed energy is a jab at him.

But “simple man with simple needs” Yamamoto simply is not interested in fighting monsters if he doesn’t get to have a cool sword while doing it.

Also he doesn’t really mean to but he is a competitive guy in nature, and kind of throws oil in the fire and gets involved in the rivalry too.

Meanwhile Haru thrives in the JS business. Fighting monsters? Saving people? Fighting for the sake of humanity?

Yes please, let her just design and handmade her own coolest outfit first.

She’s a high level gymnast so she wants to specialize in close quarter combat. Asks Fon to teach her because she wants the best and nothing else.

Fights using hoops and I don’t know how practical it would actually be and Idc because the image in my head right now is really cool.

------

MM is a CS and Mukuro has to exorcise her. They sass each other during the whole fight and become buddies by the end of it.

Mukuro proceeds to announce to the whole JS business Kyoto (and Tokyo) branch he’s keeping her and no one is allowed to exorcise her.

It's a big no-no for everyone.

“But Skull-sama is literally keeping Reborn? Humanity biggest threat?”

It's a less of a big no-no but still a no-no.

“Fine, let me improve my clan technique in a way that was never done before and turn MM into my shikigami without exorcising her.”

It works.

Mukuro proceeds to also not-exorcise Ken and Chikusa.

But Ken is dumb and always forgets to create the curtain, so one day the fourth of them just crash into Chrome’s living room.

They think they can get out of that with just an apology and the fact they saved her life from the CS that followed them, but no, they really can't.

Chrome barely manages to pay for her apartment? She’s an independent broke ass student?

“You will give me the money for the reparations right here and now or you’re not going anywhere.”

They bring Chrome to the JS’s Kyoto school principal so she can be compensated.

Daniela sends them to the Zen’in clan head because “No Mukuro, we’re done with your shit financially wise, learn how to behave or get your own clan broke, thank you, goodbye.”

Chrome is compensated by Lancia, but then she just never leaves.

And becomes a JS.

It sure as hell pays better than the part-time job she was doing until now.

------

Tsuna’s first mission is to exorcise 5yo CS Lambo and his twin sister I-Pin.

But it’s simply not happening.

Byakuran thinks it’s the occasion to fuck with him and he tries to take over his body to make him exorcise them anyway.

Tsuna shuts him the fuck down.

“I will kill you. And I do mean you only. I will find a way to kill you and you alone.”

“I will find all your stupid disgusting eyeballs, and crush them under my foot, and smear them on your stupid wings I would have first rip off of you, and roll them into a ball, and shoves them straight in your guts, and burn you to smithereens.”

“I will murder you with my bare hands in the slowest and most painful way, don’t you fucking dare harm them.”

Tsuna brings Lambo and I-Pin safely back to his school.

Fon steps up before anyone can disagree because holy shit, it’s actually the first time he sees baby CS and they’re cute as fuck??

Yes, of course they’re keeping them.

It starts a trend.

------

They’re all very proud of their CS Task Force against others CS they’re building little by little.

They begrudgingly agree to let 16yo Mukuro be in charge of it because he is the one who started it all after all.

Also the OG Task Force is the Kokuyo gang and they wouldn’t listen to anyone but him.

It’s a disaster because Mukuro’s only 16yo and also a smart dumbass but the results are there anyway.

The higher-up aren’t so happy with this Task Force.

No one else gives a shit.

Everybody is ready to fist fight them if they even think of dismantling---let alone harming---their awesome Task Force.

They make sure the higher-ups get the hint.

I wanted to add some others characters (namely Bianchi and Dino) but unfortunately I have assignments to do. Well, have this for now, in the hope you enjoy it!

Here’s part 1 with the Arco.

Here’s part 3 with the Varia & Bianchi & Dino.

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #khr au #vongola tenth gen #kokuyo gang #khr jjk au #jujutsu kaisen #jjk spoilers #whelp here's part two #let's beat the muse while it's still hot am i right?#also about tokyo school principal #i didn't mention them because i didn't know who it could be #i thought of shamal first but fuck him actually #then i thought some more and nono is right here #and is still related to daniela #but he wanted to step out of her shadow so he aimed for another school than hers #or something whatever lol #mine

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things2mustdo · 3 years

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As you probably have heard in the news, earlier in August a Pennsylvania grand jury handed down a 1,356-page account of sexual abuse which involved around 1,000 kids and 300 priests during a period of approximately 70 years. It is another pedophilia scandal within the Catholic Church that adds up to their collection of countless other ones reported in recent years.

The commie pope—while on his two-day visit to Ireland—begged for forgiveness again, just the way he did in Chile back in January of this year.

You can notice how quick and scathing the mainstream media is to denounce these recurring events, after all we know who owns the MSM and the (real) Church has a long, well-known history of “anti-semitism” and resistance against the tentacles of globalism. I wish the media had the same commitment to inform the existence of other pedophile rings full of high-ranking people as well.

Is the problem of the church’s innumerous sexual abuse allegations really pedophilia? To me there is a deeper explanation for it, and that explanation is: homosexualism. 81% of the alleged victims are male and three-fourths of them are post-pubescent. As you guys are certainly aware of, the Church has a very big issue with homosexualism among its clergymen.

I have a theory for the high presence of gay men inside priesthood: until not long ago being gay was definitely not ok, homosexuals were not accepted as they are now, so they became priests.

The developed Western world of today encourages people to become gay, it applauds individuals for their gayness, but it wasn’t always like that. Now, try to imagine a closeted homosexual man living in the 50s, for example. What a better place to go than the Catholic seminary? People wouldn’t look you down, you wouldn’t have to get married, the place was filled with other young men (potential sexual partners) and that’s how the Church got corrupted by perverts.

Pedophilia x Homosexualism

One normie could argue “how homosexualism relates to pedophilia?” Any red-pilled person who has ever wondered what causes someone to become gay will notice that there is an undeniable link between pedophilia and homosexualism.

Let’s remember the occasion of Milo Yiannopolous’ resignation from Breitbart over comments which seemed to endorse sex between “younger men” and older men. Something that is—as he pointed out—extremely common among gay men. A 2009 report revealed that 74 percent of bisexuals had been sexually abused as children, I am pretty sure homosexuals follow the same numbers.

I won’t say homosexual behavior is exclusively caused by pedophilia because human (or animal) sexuality is a very complex topic which can certainly involve many variables. I just don’t buy that “born this way” hype, until this day not a single reliable proof of the existence of a gay gene or anything like it was discovered.

The Vatican once bought a £21 million apartment block above ‘Europe’s largest gay sauna’.

Pope Francis, a champion of the left-leaning agenda inside the Church, has been accused of covering up former Cardinal McCarrick’s abuse allegations (one of the many cases in Pennsylvania). The accusations were made by Carlo Vigano, a former Vatican ambassador to the US, and if it proves to be true–I am positive it is—that should result in pope Francis’ resignation. As a traditionalist Catholic myself I would be delighted with such an event.

Francis has already been complacent with other pedos before. One good example is the 2015 ‘Synod on the Family’ when the pope invited Godfried Danneels, a Belgium Cardinal convicted of covering up pedophiles in the 90s, to attend the meeting. Danneels is a hard-left priest that tries to push the Church ” liberal reformation” and admitted that he was part of a plot against (right-leaning) Pope Benedict and in favor of the election of leftie Francis.

To affirm that the Church’s gay/pedos are exclusively part of the left-wing priesthood would be too Manichean. I am sure there are tons of sick people who lean right also. But it can’t be denied that the liberals make up the vast majority of these issues involving sexual misconduct.

“Religious progressives”

For those who don’t know, the Catholic Church, just as any other political institution, is divided in factions that tend to be more liberal or orthodox. The liberation theology, for instance, is a movement created inside the Catholic Church (and some Protestant denominations) which aims to mix Christianity and Marxism.

Even if you are an agnostic don’t underestimate the influence they played in various regions such as Europe, Latin America and even New England. Brazilian Workers’ Party attributed their success to this movement and Unions.

Be wary of any religious leader that tries to push a liberalization of dogmas and traditions. Because all religions are intrinsically conservative according to their respective contexts, they establish doctrines that dictate sets of rules that must be followed properly in order to attain their objectives (whether is Salvation in Christianity or Nirvana in Buddhism). There are no (real) religions without their traditions.

Whenever you see liberal religious men doubt their characters. There is a good chance they don’t even bother with religion or spirituality, perhaps they are closeted atheist. What they do care about is the religious platform, which can offer various benefits such as large audiences, political influence, money and even sex.

Estimates of the number of gays in the priesthood are all over the lot, from 20 percent to 60 percent, although a Los Angeles Times poll in 2002 found only 15 percent of priests saying they were homosexual or “somewhere in between but more on the homosexual side.”

Every time pedo priests’ cases pop up in the MSM, secular people are very quick to point fingers and show their moral superiority, but they “forget” the existence of secular institutions that are way more sexually perverted than the “gayish” modern Church, such as Hollywood, the political and corporate world.

Real Church x Sissy Church

It is also important to notice that the Church was emasculated, an emasculation that took place during the process of secularization and establishment of liberal democracies across the Western world (e.g. French Revolution).

The Church had to be softened, becoming an institution that barely resembles the once powerful and great Church of the Crusades or the Inquisitions. This same phenom of emasculation can also happen in other secular institutions too, the Military, mainstream Music, Politics, Sports and even Boys Scouts. And it will only get worse as liberal-democratic globalism advances, so secular people: watch out!

St. Basil the Great, a 4th century bishop and Doctor of the Church, defended that gay/pedo priests should be publicly flogged. That was the (real) Church, not this sissy catholicism created after the Second Vatican Council (a modernist reform imposed in the Church from 1962 to 1965). A lot of things got bad in the 60s.

The (real) Church has a very important and vigorous story in the construction of the West. Always being a target to the globalists and that breed who rules the world, a clear obstacle to their goals.

Examples are many: Gabriel García Moreno, Catholic Equatorian president, who made a terrific job in a Confessional Equator and was killed by the Freemasons; Saint José Sanchez del Rio, who was killed by Mexican secular, freemason and leftist government with the support of the US, for refusing to abbandon his faith.

Inconvenient truths are ignored

The media only goes after what is convenient to their narrative, don’t expect them to expose Hollywood pedos nor the obvious link between pedo priests and homosexualism. The left has already pushed the normalization of pedophilia many times and I didn’t see the indignation of the MSM.

Late Vatican’s Chief Exorcist Gabriele Amorth once said, “The Devil resides in the Vatican and you can see the consequences”.

“The floor of hell is paved with the skulls of bishops”. – St. Athanasius

Read More: The Vatican Has Disgraced True Catholic Values

I have noticed that many people have been falsely conflating what comes out of the Vatican as Catholic. Thus it is my duty to present to the esteemed readers of this fine site the true teachings of the Church which stand, ever more so today, in stark opposition to the rot of cultural Marxism and the effeminacy of the Papal pretenders in Rome.

Vicar of Christ?

Church authorities are not legitimate

It is a dogma of the Catholic faith that the Church cannot substantially change. This means that the church cannot contradict nor change her teaching from what has always been universally taught or has been solemnly defined. Any one who claims to be Catholic and knowingly professes a faith which contradicts a teaching of the Church is considered to be a heretic and is considered to have a removed himself from the Church.

As St. Thomas states: “[one] who disbelieves [even] one article of faith does not have faith, either formed or unformed.” This is known as the unity of faith which means that all Catholics profess the same faith. Likewise it means that heretics cannot hold a clerical office in the Church. Thus if a heretic were to be elected even to the Papacy they could not be considered a legitimate Pontiff because a heretic has separated himself from the Church (source).

Would a real Pope bow to a religion declared false by the Church?

Simply put, you have to be Catholic to be Pope, and the absurdity of a heretic claiming the See of Peter is where we find ourselves today. For just as the institutions in the West have been infiltrated and seized by the enemy, likewise have the institutions of the Church been usurped by apostate forces. The hierarchy currently residing in the Vatican are not legitimate authorities and do not represent the perennial teaching of the Church. Therefore I have listed for your benefit the actual Church’s positions on some current areas of contention.

The only time Francis has ever smiled at a Crucifix

On Communism

The Catholic Church is vehemently opposed to communism. Without Pius XII valiant efforts, communism would have prevailed over postwar France and Italy. The Pope went so far as to issue the Decree against Communism in 1949 which excommunicated any Christian who professed communist doctrine.

Catholicism is the enemy of Marxism as it teaches that there can be no separation of Church and state, and an atheist government is immoral. Catholicism believes private property is a natural right going so far to say that depriving workers of their wages is a sin which cries to heaven for vengeance (compare that to our socialist tax code!).

On Migration and Culture

The current Muslim invasion of Europe would be met with the utmost resistance. It has always been the Church which has sought to safeguard Catholic Culture and in ages past has gone so far as to issue a call to arms against non-Catholics who have sought to destroy it.

Pope Urban II issued the Crusades and Pope Leo the great even went so far as to personally travel into the heart of the Hun army—to Attila himself—to deliver Rome from the sack that was to come. In 1571, St. Pope Pius V formed the Holy League that would go on to defeat the great Muslim Turkish Armada that was plaguing the Mediterranean.

“Then I pointed like so and told them where to take their cultural enrichment”

The tradition of the Church has been to unite the West against external non-christian threats in order to preserve Western Christian culture.

“The natural law enjoins us to love devotedly and to defend the country in which we were born, and in which we were brought up, so that every good citizen hesitates not to face death for his native land…. We are bound, then, to love dearly the country whence we have received the means of engagement this mortal life affords.” – Sapientia Christiana Encyclical Pope Leo XIII

On Abortion and Contraception

So what is the real teaching of the Church in regards to abortion and contraception? The teaching is any member who has an abortion or supports abortion is automatically excommunicated from the Church. That’s right: every single Democrat who claims to be Catholic is actually excommunicated, including Nancy Pelosi who likes to sanctimoniously drone how she is a good Catholic grandmother.

Contraception is also considered a mortal sin because it is an unnatural stoppage of life.

“Hence, after the sin of homicide whereby a human life already in existence is destroyed, this type of sin appears to take next place, for by it the generation of human nature is impeded.” -St. Thomas Aquinas.

I know this is unpopular with the readers, but the teaching is that those who engage in contraception have already committed murder in their heart. Contraception is what allows people to engage in recreational sex, because the natural end of sex has been set aside so too then has the institution of marriage, whose end is children.

Likewise, because we have committed murder in our hearts, we have become a petulant, immature, vain, and a sterile people similar to any other people who have taken the risk from reward or the consequences from pleasure. This is the most difficult pill to swallow.

On Feminism

The Church condemns feminism in the strongest terms. There cannot exist feminism without birth control.

“…any use whatsoever of matrimony exercised in such a way that the act is deliberately frustrated in its natural power to generate life is an offense against the law of God and of nature, and those who indulge in such are branded with the guilt of a grave sin.” -Pius XI Casti Cannubi

The Church asserts that Man is the head of the household and that a woman finds her vocation from being a good mother and housewife:

“This … does not deny or take away the liberty which fully belongs to the woman both in view of her dignity as a human person, and in view of her most noble office as wife and mother and companion; nor does it bid her obey her husband’s every request if not in harmony with right reason or with the dignity due to wife; … For if the man is the head, the woman is the heart, and as he occupies the chief place in ruling, so she may and ought to claim for herself the chief place in love.” -Ibid

The Pope has even gone so far as to condemn women’s suffrage:

“Woman can never be man’s equal and cannot therefore enjoy equal rights. Few women would ever desire to legislate, and those who did would only be classed as eccentrics.” -St. Pius X

On Pacifism

The Catholic Church is not simply just a religion of love and mercy. Christianity is not a weak religion, for our God is a God of Battles. Catholic Tradition encourages us to live our lives in the manner of our Lord Jesus who spoke of the struggle that his Church would have to endure.

“Do not think that I am come to send peace upon earth: I came not to send peace, but the sword.”-Mathew 10:34

Christians are not meant to sit idly as bystanders to the great struggle of good and evil in this world.

“For our wrestling is not against flesh and blood: but against principalities and power, against the rulers of the world of this darkness: against the spirits of wickedness in the high places.” -Ephesians 6:12

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nomadicism · 4 years

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In that one Voltron post about Keith in Voltron Force, you mentioned that "I don’t think that many western writers would ‘get’ that archetype". What do you mean by that exactly?

Hi! Great question, thank you for the Ask!

I’ll start this off by stating that when I say something like “western” or “American”, I don’t mean to conflate the two. The latter is a part of the former, and the cultural context is relevant to why I said “I don’t think that many western writers would ‘get’ that archetype.”

Not “getting it” comes down to DotU Keith’s original archetype is that of the super sentai team leader, and that’s not a thing that exists in the western popular media culture (we have something different in place of that). And, kind of like how westerners frequently misinterpret ronin and samurai, if you don’t grow up with it—both the culture that created it, and as a common story type within popular media—then you probably won’t ‘get’ it, at least not without a lot of study and work and awareness of what super sentai is about (and that’s true of anyone’s perception or experience of another culture’s media). It takes time to ‘get it’, and in some case one might not ever fully get it (and that’s okay).

The more I try to figure out super sentai—and the +40 years of popular Japanese culture around it—the more I realize that I have more to learn. Just like with super robot stories—while it’s really about selling toys and entertaining people—there’s something else to it, like the why of how its entertaining. That something else is the cultural time-and-place conditions that gave rise to super sentai and super robot in the first place. Those conditions did/do not exist in the west. Different cultures have different kinds of heroes, kind of like how Superman was borne out of the time-and-place conditions of his creators.

Super sentai team leaders (and for this, I’m including anime with super robot combining mecha team leaders that are based on the super sentai formula) are similar to pre-80s American super hero team leaders in comics, and thus some of the difficulties in writing them also happens in super hero comics too. This is how DotU Keith becomes Voltron Force Keith-with-all-the-toys, even though the story is supposed to be about the next generation of Voltron pilots or whatever (I never got the feeling that they made up their mind about that). It’s an awkward merging of two similar but different types of stories that come from different cultures. I don’t say that to imply that such a merge can’t be done, it’s just easy to do awkwardly (or worse).

What follows is some breaking that down a bit more:

VF Keith (and later iterations of Keith to a certain extent) is an example of the American tendency to de-emphasize the team-aspect of leadership, as well as the leader’s soft skills, while emphasizing solo action hero skills and lone wolf traits, and adding Marks of Specialness. I’m not sure if other western cultures have the same kind of Individuality vs Collectivism dynamic that we do in the U.S., but that’s something I see at play in how Americans write team leaders. It’s not a problem in the “Action hero has a backup team” story (and I think that type of story comes from the placement of the Individual over the Collective), but it doesn’t work well in a super sentai story where the Collective is structurally more important than the Individual, and the Leader is important b/c of his innate personality-based traits or virtues that inspire and bring together the Collective to save the day.

Technically, a super sentai leader doesn’t have to be a great leader, or the most qualified. He just has to inspire through personality and by being a virtuous paragon. It can be hard to quantify what a virtuous paragon is, but it is not the same thing as a moral paragon in the western sense, even though the virtuous paragon occupies an analogous place in a story. One could say that I’m splitting hairs there, but there is a distinction between “virtue” and “moral”.

So at first, DotU Keith had the super sentai team leader feel as he wasn’t changed too much from his counterpart in Golion. The most noticeable change to Akira’s character as Keith in 80s Voltron were that his spiritual traits were de-emphasized due to broadcasting/syndication rules at the time. Those spiritual traits are not a requirement for a super sentai team leader, but within the context of a Japanese story, they help define the leader’s soft skills and shape the kind of virtuous paragon he’s supposed to be. (that’s a tangent into some heavy cultural analysis though).

By the time we get to Voltron Force (nearly 30 years later), we run into the 90s Superman problem with DotU Keith (e.g. how do we make the boy scout relatable? plus edgy characters are en vogue). Voltron Force’s solution to that problem was to keep adding new traits/skills/marks of specialness to Keith in order to make him “more interesting” (in some cases, those traits/skills/marks of specialness were already present in other characters). The assumption is that “more interesting”, is how to get people (in this case boys aged 7-9 or 9-12) to pay attention to and relate to a character that was never meant to stand out in that way to begin with.

In the context of super sentai, of course Red Leader is the bestest Japanese Everyman and will lead his team to victory, but he doesn’t get all the toys, and he needs the team to come together to form the giant robot at the last minute. And since he doesn’t get all the toys, then that means that he doesn’t get all of the traits/skills/marks of specialness that are associated with having all the toys, nor does he get into conflict situations where resolution is completely dependent upon his ability to be the solo action hero or lone wolf with lots of toys. This is where Voltron Force goes wrong with Keith…and VLD S6-S8. (Arguably that could be S3, but a lone wolf/solo action star temporarily stepping into the moral-or-virtuous paragon’s leadership role can totally work as part of a growth arc.)

The problem here is the conflation of leadership with being “the most interesting” or being the solo action star, or that to be “the most interesting”, one needs to be edgy lone wolf. That’s literally not the point of a team-focused story, and that is not the place of a super sentai team leader.

In DotU, Keith doesn’t need to be the martial arts master brawler, that’s Hunk. Keith doesn’t need to be the tricksy-ninja, that’s Pidge (DotU de-emphasized that from Golion where Hiroshi had a ninja lineage). Keith doesn’t need to be cynical one that sees through the enemy’s tricks, that’s Lance. Keith doesn’t even need to be the heart, that’s Allura (in some cases the super sentai team leader takes on a larger heart role, but the real heart will always be the female character). Part of the super sentai team leader’s archetype is that he’s got a few things he’s great at (usually one combat skill set + driving/piloting + tactics), and he has flaws that are made up for by the rest of the team, as each member embodies the other archetypes that make up a super sentai team.

One of those flaws is a certain kind of naiveté, for example, Lance wouldn’t have gotten hit by a rock from behind by Lotor during a duel, as he never would have agreed to the dual in the first place, as Honor™ is not an innate part of Lance’s being. Honor is a virtue, and as the virtuous paragon, Keith’s sense of honor plays into his naiveté. Duals are honorable! Lotor gave his word, he must have honor! HAH. No. Honor in this context is an innate quality, and that’s very important for a super sentai team leader, even in an odd-duck combining mecha show like Voltron.

Not to be that weeb with a “the Japanese prize Honor” take, but they kind of really do when it comes to how to define villains and heroes within certain types of stories. Virtuous, noble, and honorable villains (or antagonists) exist, and they get a completely different kind of death (arc resolution, sometimes in an eastern tragedy this leads to the hero’s catharsis) than a villain who is dishonorable, or without honor (those are not always the same thing). The western concept of honor is different (that’s not a value judgement, and of course variations exist b/c not all western cultures are the same).

In the US—when we’re not appropriating samurais for cowboy westerns—we tend to make honor into more of an aristocratic thing (thanks England), and that’s exactly what Voltron Force does to Keith when they slap on a secret Arusian lineage and special parental legacy of an Arusian Honor Guard. That completely undermines Keith as a virtuous paragon. He doesn’t need any of those things…and again, wasn’t the story supposed to be about Daniel, Vince, and Larmina anyway?

A secret lineage would be the kind of thing you’d give to one of those three, in which case, that would be Daniel or Vince, since Larmina is already related to Allura, even though Allura told everyone that her entire family was killed by Zarkon when Keith et al first met her and Coran. Being Arusian and royalty were Allura’s toys, Keith didn’t need them, he already had enough toys. This is a way in which the writers didn’t ‘get’ the archetype, and tried too hard to make it into something else.

The DDP and Dynamite iterations of Voltron still “give other characters’ toys” to Keith, but it’s not a problem b/c those iterations are separate continuities that begin (or reboot) in a way that is not super sentai. A few of the super sentai trappings remain, but they are much more like American super hero comics, and that’s fine.

In DDP Voltron, Hunk’s martial arts prowess is given to Keith, but Hunk gains a different archetype in return (that I really love and wish I could have seen more of). Hunk still has combat skills, but his archetype is not the big dude kung fu brawler. Even though DDP Keith has gained DotU Hunk’s toy, he’s still well balanced between solo action star and team leader, since he is only team leader b/c that’s what he was assigned to do. He’s not there to inspire his comrades through innate virtuous qualities. He’s there to lead a hail Mary mission for the most powerful weapon in the universe that everything thinks is a space fairy tale.

Dynamite Voltron Keith is okay, but he kind of falls into the solo action star trap in parts of Vol 2. VLD started off strong with a different archetype for Keith, but ended up giving him all the toys as was done with VF Keith.

Any continuity can do what they want, and use different archetypes for the characters, but if part of the goal is to start off with that DotU feeling (or like actually continue the DotU story), then those writing should try to get a better understanding of why all the characters (not just Keith) are the way that they are in DotU (and Golion). And also question why there is this inclination to single out Keith as a solo action star, rather than one part of a five person whole. The inclination isn’t right or wrong, it just is, and it has consequences for characterization.

#voltron #voltron force #vf keith #character analysis #ask me anything #aquaburst3

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pandastern · 4 years

Text

Gravity (Bakugou x OC)

Part 10: Declaration of War

If youd like to be added to the taglist for upcoming parts please dm me :)

Masterlist II AO3

Bakugou x Vigilante!OC

Warnings: angst, explicit language, violence

Word count: 2146

Genre: enemies to lovers ; angst ; romance, slow burn

When a new student makes an entrance, Bakugou has a real bad feeling. There is something about this girl that just doesnt feel right. From the flaming hair to the calculating glint in her green eyes, everything about her just pisses him off.

Little does he know that his fate is intertwined with the person he despises so much, defining his future path in a way he would have never expected

Lunch break was a fucking nightmare. Artemis couldn't remember when she’d last felt so goddamn tired. Her head pounded to the point where it became increasingly hard to stay focused, despite having had not one but three cans of energy drinks in the morning alone.

Her mood was getting worse, too. People just wouldn't leave her alone. Her classmates swarmed around her constantly. When the lunch bell rang, Iida, Uraraka and Midoriya dragged her along to the cafeteria in what turned out to be an attempt to make sure she ate healthily, forcing her to eat every single vegetable they piled on her plate, despite her having clearly stated how much she hated them.

Whenever she went to the bathroom, there was always at least one girl from the class accompanying her, assaulting her with friendly chatter as if they’d been friends for years.

It was truly puzzling, and Artemis wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with it.

By the time the last period finished, she’d had enough. She just wanted to go home. At least there, she’d have the peace and quiet she so desperately wanted.

The moment the school bell rang, Artemis packed her belongings into her bag and shot out of her seat.

“What the heck are you all doing here?” she heard Uraraka say loudly. The tone of her voice told Artemis something wasn't quite right.

She looked up to see a big crowd of students she’d never seen before standing in front of the classroom door. Not only were they blocking the exit, but their stares were a little too curious for her liking.

This day just wasn’t going to get any better, was it?

“Do you students have some sort of business with our class?” Iida asked in his best diplomatic student rep voice.

“Why are you blocking our doorway? I won't let you hold us hostage!” Mineta shrieked so loudly it rang in Artemis’s ears.

With a frustrated groan, she slung her bag over her shoulder and stepped closer. Something told her that this had something to do with the USJ incident. According to her classmates, the whole debacle had caused a huge media storm. Not that she was surprised. After all, UA was the school for young heroes in the country and the villain attack was a big tarnish on their name.

Artemis had no desire to be part of this spectacle. She prepared to march her arse through the crowd, pushing people aside if she had to. She just wanted to go home. Enough was enough.

“They’re scouting out the competition, you idiots,” Bakugou growled as he made his way past Artemis. “We’re the class that survived a real villain attack.”

For a split second, his eyes lingered on her as if there were something else he wanted to say, but then he changed his mind. He stood in front of the crowd with a posture that said, “I’m ready to brawl”.

“They want to see what a future pro looks like,” he continued, narrowing his eyes. “Now move it, extras!”

“You can't call people ‘extras’ just because you don't know who they are!” Iida piped up, horrified.

Artemis had to bite back a laugh. That sounded more like the Bakugou she knew: ready to start shit, not giving a damn about what anyone else thought. In a way, she shared that sentiment, though she knew better than to make the whole school her enemy. But maybe that was because she actually possessed some form of common sense.

“So, this is class 1A? I heard you guys were impressive, but you just sound like an arse.” A rather tall boy emerged from the crowd. “Is everyone in the hero course delusional, or is it just you?”

A soft snort escaped Artemis at his words. The look Bakugou gave her only made her laughing worse.

What? she mouthed at him. After all, the person was telling the truth. It was hardly a secret that Katsuki Bakugou was, in fact, an arse.

The small vein at Bakugou's temple started to throb, a telltale sign that his patience was running out.

“How sad to come here and just find a bunch of egomaniacs,” the unfamiliar boy continued, his voice dripping with contempt. “I wanted to be in the hero course, but like many others here, I was forced to choose a different track. Such is life. I didn't cut it the first time around, but I have another chance. If any of us do well in the sports festival, the teacher can decide to transfer us to the hero course, and they’ll have to transfer people out to make room.”

The more he spoke, the more Artemis realised that the contempt she’d first picked up on was actually closer to jealousy. If what he was saying was true, none of their places in this class were safe. That was an interesting concept. Survival of the fittest. Despite the harshness of the policy, she supposed it ensured that every student gave one hundred percent at all times. It also allowed the school to weed out who wasn’t fit for the job or just not willing to put in the work. She gave Mineta a side glance.

The boy looked over her classmates and scoffed. “Scouting the competition, you say? Maybe some of my peers are, but I’m here to let you know that if you don't bring your very best, I'll steal your spot right from under you. Consider this a declaration of war.”

Artemis rolled her eyes. Judging by Bakugou’s hot-headedness and the provocative look on the other guy’s face, this would likely take a while. And after spending the day wasting her energy on being nice to her overly-concerned classmates, she had absolutely no desire to wait here until they’d finished their dick-measuring contest.

Before Bakugou could bark his reply, Artemis cleared her throat loudly, attracting the attention of him and the crowd.

“I don't know what you’re trying to achieve here, treating our class like a monkey circus and all, but could you please get out of the way?” she snapped at the unknown guy. “If you need to have a little fight to figure out which one of you has the bigger dick, do it somewhere where you’re not in the fucking way. Thank you.”

Silence fell over the crowd.

“Artemis! You can’t use these kinds of words at school,” Iida gasped in outrage, but Artemis just waved him off.

“Iida, do I look like I give a fuck? Now, move.”

Leaving her stunned classmates behind, she made her way through the crowd. Artemis was aware that her outburst was uncharacteristic for the persona she’d put on until now and that she’d probably regret having snapped like this as soon as her mood lightened up again, but that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. This day could go fuck itself, as far as she was concerned.

The following days didn’t prove to be much better than the first. After three days, Artemis had given up questioning her new friends’ behavior, or why they were constantly around her. Maybe that was how things worked? She wouldn't know. The whole ‘Deku-Squad’, as she liked to call the small group of Midoriya, Iida and Uraraka, certainly didn't miss a chance to involve her in every activity possible. Group work during class? One of them would always call her over. Lunch? Artemis couldn't even make it out of the door without them swarming her and dragging her along to the cafeteria with them.

Before long, Artemis started to catch herself actually enjoying the time she spent with the group. No, not enjoying , she told herself. More like accepting this in order to fit in.

Today, however, her splitting headache made it increasingly hard to keep up her friendly facade. Her dreams hadn’t gotten any better, either, the haunting images leaving her nauseous when she woke up. Artemis wasn't sure whether all this was the result of the poison still wreaking havoc in her body, or if something else was going on behind the scenes.

“Artemis, are you doing okay? You’ve been pushing that shrimp around your plate for five minutes now.” Uraraka’s voice cut through her train of thought.

“Huh?” Artemis blinked and looked up, meeting the worried gaze of her classmate. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You look a little pale. Shall we escort you to Recovery Girl’s office?” Iida was already getting out of his seat to help her, but Artemis quickly waved him off.

“No, please. I’m fine. I just… need to go get some air real quick. Don't worry,” Artemis responded and quickly got up.

It might have been her only chance to get out of this overcrowded room, where so many voices banded together into a loud humming noise that threatened to detonate her brain like one of Bakugou's explosions.

Before any of them could say anything or offer to join her, Artemis slipped out of the cafeteria and made her way to the school roof. Over the past couple of days, the place had become something of a refuge for her, as nobody rarely went up there.

One thing she’d noticed after the attack was that her stamina had noticeably decreased. Again, she guessed it was the result of the still-prominent poison in her blood causing her to get light-headed as soon as she did anything physically taxing, like walking up several flights of stairs.

She had to sit down for a moment to catch her breath once she’d reached the roof. It was pathetic, really, how weak she’d become. A bitter laugh escaped her. If her father could see her now, he'd tell her how much of a disgrace she was. Or worse. That man had never taken kindly to weakness.

Suddenly, her quirk picked up an approaching heartbeat. Great. She really wasn't in the mood to be seen in a vulnerable state like this.

Forcing herself back onto her feet, Artemis grabbed her bag and proceeded to push herself onto the last flight of stairs

“I swear, “ she muttered to herself, “if one more person asks me if I'm okay, they’re going to be taking an involuntary swan dive off the roof. I've had enough.”

“That doesn't sound very heroic coming from a student enrolled in the hero course,” said someone with a husky voice behind her.

Artemis froze. She’d heard that voice before. Turning slowly, she spotted the same boy with lilac hair that had antagonised Bakugou in front of the classroom a couple days back making his way up the stairs. She groaned.

“Do I look like I care, fuzzy head?” she huffed. “Not that you would know, being from General Ed.”

Apparently, that rubbed him the wrong way. His brows furrowed.

“Not for long, that's for sure,” he replied in a sour tone. “You should really check that nasty attitude before someone pulls you off that high horse that you’ve become so comfortable on.”

“Oh, really?” Artemis scoffed. “And who, exactly, would that be? You? Pardon me, but I am not in the mood for whatever…” She gestured vaguely between them. “… this is, so please leave me alone.”

With that, she proceeded to climb the stairs again as fast as she possibly could, which, given her current condition and the growing dizziness in her head, wasn't exactly lightning speed.

“You seem to be pretty sure of yourself. You shouldn't underestimate your competition. I am going to take a spot in the hero course.”

“Competition?”

It was clear that this guy wouldn't leave her alone until he’d said his two cents. What was it with grumpy men in this academy and their need to measure their dicks? She didn't even have one!

Letting herself slump down onto one of the steps, she sighed deeply and took a closer look at the boy before her. He was tall and a little on the lanky side. His lilac eyes were underlined with dark circles, making him look like he hadn't slept in days, but his gaze was focused and determined.

“Look. I don't know why you feel like you have to hype yourself up by robbing me of the last shreds of serotonin that I possess, but I can tell you this: your ‘declaration of war’ on the hero course doesn’t worry me in the slightest. Why? Because I’m not here for some silly naive fantasy of heroism like most of you. So, no. A sleep deprived, unkempt, scrawny teenage boy trying to make me nervous doesn’t scare me.” Artemis shook her head. “So, if we're done here, I would like to spend my lunch break in peace.”

With that, Artemis turned on her heel and stubbornly forced herself up the stairs, despite her body's protests.

She didn't catch the boy’s intrigued gaze as he watched her disappear up to the roof.

#gravity #bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x OC #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #mha #bnha #mha x oc #mha x reader #bnha x oc #bnha x reader #mha fanfic #bnha fanfic #fanfiction

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starfaring-princelotor · 5 years

Text

The Prison Kingdom

Chapter 2: To Create A Name

Summary: With new companions comes new information you were unaware of before.

Warnings: Mentions of suicide and blood.

★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I respectfully ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Lotura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing. ★

A/N: Click here to learn more about fairies.

1 . 2 .

“I didn’t know pirates can read.”

“Aye, fancy that, eh? Learn something new with every rising sun,” you closed your book then fully turned your attention to the man leering over your shoulder, “I didn’t know that incubus’ can be nosy, little whelps, and yet, here we are, mate.”

Lance, he said his name was. Young faced with an offended scrunched up frown because of your comment, he seemed fresh to the battles of blades. And of insults. Rule number one when growing up under the honorable tutelage of your aged seafarer captain: whatever you do, do it well. May he rest in peace, the poor fool who took a cannonball to the gut.

“Hey! I’m not nosy!” came his witty reply, accompanied by a muttered grumble.

You took that as his white flag.

“Pirate.”

“Aye, capitain?”

Shiro said nothing else, only gave you that good old “stop picking on the soldiers” look. You shrugged in response. He stated that he needed to stop by his neighboring guilds and request assistance from a few specific set of people. And thus, along with you and a few others who gathered at Altea, Shiro created a small group of warriors for this expedition.

There was Ulaz, a powerful necromancer who channeled spirit energy from the dead to do his bidding. Attractive mercenary with those glowing eyes and pointed ears, leader of the Blue Tail Guild. Then that one golem from the deep mountains, what was her name? Shay of the Yellow Eyes faction? Those fancy jewels embedded in her rocky exterior were tempting, but you were sure she could pack a punch if you tried to use your five-finger discount. And, last but not least, a dryad ghost who calls himself Rolo, belonging to the Green Claw Guild. His skills with traveling between planes of existence at ease would be most useful for scouting.

Right now, the only one left was meant to be meeting at this farm on the outskirts of a small, unnamed village. Someone from the Red Teeth Guild, supposedly the one King Alfor led until his untimely demise. Her name was Hira, one of the Alteans who was tasked with defending the royal family. Keyword: was. She gave up that title and dedicated her life to hunting monsters with vengeance, more importantly the dragon that razed Altea to the ground. Though she lacked the magical abilities passed down by her ancestors, she made up for it in pure strength as a berserker.

“- He is ready, Shiro. I have seen the boy fight alongside Lance, they both would make worthy comrades in battle.”

You could sense the pride and ushering tone in, who you assumed, was Hira. Off in the distance, the two boys mentioned were tending to a bull peacefully. Out here, it was easy to fall into the dull sense of a domestic life. A farm, crops to harvest, animals to feed. Making pasteurized cheese from only the freshest of milk. A humble existence, not one meant for the explorative type of people. Much too docile, too vulnerable.

“No, Hira. They are just boys. If we were hunting wild boars, yes, I would bring both Keith and Lance along, but this mission is too dangerous for the inexperienced,” Shiro argued, voice muffled behind the bales of hay, “I’m not putting their blood on my hands. Are you willing to?”

A pregnant pause, only to be interrupted by the peppered clucks of chickens nearby.

“Altea needs soldiers, Shiro.”

“Children are not soldiers, Hira. I’m done discussing this. Are you with us or not?”

“Fine. But keep your Galra scum on a leash. This war still isn’t over and I won’t forget what happened a decade ago,” she spat with spite lacing each syllable in her words, “His kind shouldn’t even be joining this party.”

“No one would forget, but his skills are invaluable if we’re going after a dragon that uses quintessence as an energy source. Our mission is to kill it so a repeat of the past doesn’t happen. Do you understand?”

Part of you wanted to say you didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Really, you didn’t, it was just convenient that your hearing was much more enhanced than the average being. And, judging by the pupiless stare of Ulaz, you knew he heard them, too. That slightest, almost barely noticeable twitch in his ears gave him away.

“That bull is going to charge them. Watch,” Rolo informed, also watching the spectacle of Keith and Lance’s shenanigans.

As if able to predict the future, Keith must’ve patted the animal a little too hard, which irritated the beast. He started hoofing the grass, gave one loud baying screech, before shoving both of them away in a disgruntled thrash. Don’t run, you thought, but it was instinct to flee when something once neutral becomes aggressive. Pity that Keith fellow was wearing red, though.

“Useful trick ye got there. Ever thought about trying yer hand as a fortune teller? Could swindle a few fish for quite a bit o’ gold,” you chuckled, recalling the time you did such a thing yourself.

“Huh. Wonder if Nyma would be up for that gimmick after this hunt.”

“This hunt...it is such a small group. Can we really fight a dragon?” Shay’s inquisitive voice openly asked, “I have heard rumors and stories of such feats only being accomplished by massive armies, yet we are of only 10 bodies.”

“We are not going to kill a dragon. Shiro needs us to find it first before requesting for support from Altea. Perhaps the kingdom’s allies can send reinforcements as well.” Ulaz spoke of Shiro as an old friend, an old comrade in arms, and oddly enough, that fact was reassuring, “We can not trek through enemy territory with siege weapons and cannons. Not yet.”

Not until we know what we are going against.

“Can you build, pirate?”

“Can a shark bite?” you immediately retorted, but judging by the blank look on his face, he didn’t understand the reference, “Aye, aye, I can build. Bless me with a keg o’ gunpowder and I’ll gift ye bombs strong enough to take out me other leg.”

Shay giggled, Rolo smiled, and even Ulaz found the dark joke a little humorous.

There was something stifling about traveling by foot through the thicket of the woods. You would take the open sea and the ship over mangled trees and looming leaves any day. Rolo, however, was in his element. It seemed like the vines were reaching towards him to give an odd embrace from the trees themselves. Was it just you or did that trunk have a face carved out in it? Perhaps you’ve been spending too much time reading that book of yours.

[Not every spirit is malicious. Some belong to those children who ventured too far, unguarded and blind to the dangers lurking deep within. Be careful if you hear echoed giggling of the young. Faes are master tricksters. Under no circumstance should you ever answer their question, lest you wish to be swept up and vanished into thin air. Avoid rings of mushrooms at all cost.]

Below was a quickly drawn image of cap mushrooms formed in a circle. There seemed to be a child-like figure with butterfly wings attached on its back. You came to realize then, while sitting around the campfire and partaking your turn for watch, that the creatures of the land vastly differ than those of the sea. You expected this, of course, but something in the back of your head had one question buzzing in your skull: how far could you flee if you came across such beasts?

Shuffling off to the side alerted you of Shay awakening. Slowly, she emerged from her tent as the fire danced, making those gems glimmer even more beautifully in the night.

“Are you well, p-pirate?” she asked albeit hesitantly stuttering on the title.

With a nod of confirmation, you shut your book quietly just as she took a seat across from you. She seemed to be lost in thought, curious even, and it amused you greatly to see her glance away when you caught her stare. Then, her gaze stayed locked on the very interesting rock by your wooden leg.

“Lass, does this ol’ thing give you the willies?” you tapped your leg, already quite used to not feeling anything come from the action, “It t’aint rigged with explosives, ye can trust me word on that.”

Now, she quickly snapped her wide eyes up at you, “No, no, not at all! I mean, it’s a little...I have seen such things before. But that is not why I was - forgive me - for staring.”

“Eh?”

“Your name. The captain calls you ‘pirate’ and you were introduced to us as so. I have never met someone who doesn’t have a name,” Shay rubbed her hands together unsurely, wondering if her question came out too personal, “ I - does it bother...do you have a name that you wish to be called instead?”

Cute and utterly kind by a default. You liked that about her.

“Would ye like to hear a story, mate? A story of the Name-Stealing witch of the sea?”

At that, her attention was completely enraptured by the flourish wave of your hand and the quill you pulled from your coat sleeve like magic. If there was one thing you enjoyed more than crafting bombs, it would be telling stories embellished in exciting lore and haunting truths. Or lies. That was left to be decided by the listeners.

“Aye, among those who were unfortunately marooned on desolate islands, legends say that the nights following an empty sky, there be but a single bottle floating to the shore. No matter where, it always held a single piece of parchment and quill. You nay see her on the bank, or hear her whisper, but some say she stands afloat as a speck on the horizon. And some say...she will grant ye solace if ye but write yer name on that there paper.”

You now pulled out a rolled-up sheet from your other sleeve, earning a gasp of surprise from your audience. Well, your one audience.

“I came across her one fateful night. There’s a rule among us pirate folk: those who fall behind are left behind. Ye carry yer own weight to survive out there and me weight was just a little too heavy,” cue you knocking on your wooden leg, “I was starved and alone with nothing but me ‘n me pistol. Good ol’ trusty Kretch. Once the taste of sand could no longer sustain me, nor the grass, nor the leaves of the palms, I had to decide if I wanted a quick death to be my end.”

Concern. Of course she was concerned to hear those dreadfully haunting words.

“But she came to me one night, offering me nothing but a bottle. I told meself, if there were a chance to live, I’d take it without thought. And I did. I wrote me name, but oh, what a fool I was. There I lay, death washing upon the shore, and she came to me. She took it with a kiss, so I may never speak it again. She took that parchment so I may never write it again. And when I woke on a different bank, and when those kind souls helped poor little ol’ me, and when they asked who I was…”

You crumpled the paper then immediately tossed it into the fire, the blaze quickly sparking a green flame in a show of bedazzlement.

“...I couldn’t remember it.”

At the end, Shay was practically sitting on the edge of her log with wide-eyed awe. Couldn’t remember your own name? The very idea seemed appalling and completely impossible. Not even magic can do that...right?

“But why? What could a sea witch want with a name? Was she born without one and chose to steal names, collect them, to satisfy her own cruel jealousy? Or was she searching for hers? She may still be out there yet, Shay, ready to make a deal with those desperate enough to survive. Perhaps she even haunts those in the forests or the caves…”

“No! I want to keep my name, I - “ she shook her head to get the jitters out, clearly displeased with the thought of losing something so important, “Can you get it back? Your name?”

“Many have tried, but all have failed or perished in the pursuit,” you paused, letting a slow, sneaky grin spread on your lips, “Unless...ye have more than one name to go by.”

“More than one?”

“Aye. That’s why ‘tis important to make a name fer yerself. And that’s why Shiro calls me pirate, fer me own safety, eh? Not even she can steal a title like that.”

“Can...stealing a name kill someone? Do you think she can kill a dragon if she took its name?” Shay questioned more for herself than for you, “It’s scary to think about…”

“Ah, but then ask yerself, do ye want t’forget the dragon? Pain is the world’s cruelest teacher, but I cannot imagine waking one day and not remembering how me family died by the dragon’s fire,” you explained before tilting your head in thought, “Were ye there, lass? When the dragon attacked?”

She shook her head no, “I wasn’t, but my people helped with saving the injured who were buried under the wreckage. Many were worried about the royal families and of the prince and princess as well.”

Now it was your turn to lean in, intent on catching every word she shared.

“It is tragic that Queen Mellanor passed at Allura’s birth. Even more that her father was killed by the ally he trusted. We weren’t able to find Prince Lotor nor Emperor Zarkon, assuming they had fled as soon as the attack had started. It was horrible, hearing the survivors share their woes. I wish it hadn’t happened. Even a few Galra citizens living in Altea were affected, but…”

Here, she began fidgeting with her hands nervously then lowered her voice down a pitch as if the forest have ears of their own.

“When we uncovered Galra citizens, they were herded off into the castle...and they never came out.”

Somehow, Shay’s story was much more frightening than yours. Not only because you believe her, but you also believe that the fate of those Galra was likely leading to an unhappy ending.

“I think - “

A rustle, one against the wind, and your head snapped in the direction of the noise.

“Shh - wait, I hear - “ and before you could finish your sentence, a blunt force punched you in the face, sending you flying off your seat to knock into an allies tent.

You heard Shay let out a yell, a battle cry and a way to warn everyone that an intruder was here. A cacophony of noises rose in volume, people scrambling to attack a wisping shadow in failure, for the punches came too quick and too powerful. A whirlwind of purple light trailed by each landed blow and, tried as you might, every shot from your pistol did nothing against the flurry of that damn bludgeoning weapon.

“Rise!” Ulaz shouted and, instantly, a cooling spell fell over you, releasing you from the bruising pain of your crushed rib.

You owe him a drink for that one.

“Form up on me! Shields up!” Shiro ordered, equipping his own shield to cover his front, but it was already too late.

By the time the chaos settled and the dust came down, the attacker had Hira’s throat in a deadly grasp while holding her body up in the air. Metal claws were cutting into her skin, drawing a line of blood, just to emphasize how serious she is close to dying. One wrong move, and her life would be forfeit. You waited with held breath on a command, anything from Shiro, but nothing came in one, two, three seconds.

Then, Shiro’s eyes widened at the person standing across from his infantry.

“Sendak?”

#spacestories #lotor x reader #i know i know #we hate hira

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crazyfreckledginger · 5 years

Text

The Brotherhood ~ Chapter 11: Trapped With The Enemy

See masterlist for art sources

Warning: Reader and Lucas bantering

The rapid galops of horses made excruciating sound. Everyone’s heartbeat was thumping widely, anxious, nervous but also determination. One side had to do everything in their power to keep the book in their possession and the other side wanted to do anything in their power to get the book out of their possession.

Their intense chase prolonged through the deserted landscapes, by small villages and through the tall dunes. The sun was setting, burning their backs as it did so.

“This is never going to stop,” the girl expressed worriedly, feeling how exhausted her horse was getting.

“Pull in here,” Lucas demanded, the men and the girl followed suit. Their enemies were gaining on them until they were just in reach.

Suddenly, groans and screams alerted the followers as the floor suck down beneath them, engulfing every last one of them.

****

“No trace of them, my lord,” the man bowed on his horse as it nudged closer to him.

What could have happened.

“We’ve received word, my lord,” another one of his men trotted up to him.

“Sign of Lucas and (Y/N)?” he asked hopefully.

“N-no, sir, we have been informed that members of the Unknown Council are getting closer to this domain,”

“Send out scouts, keep an eye on them, if they suspect we know anything about what their plan is, we won’t have the advantage anymore.” Andrès ordered.

“Yes sir!” the man bowed before moving away from the heard and galloping back towards their temporary home.

“Keep searching, all of you!” The leader then barked to put his men back into focus.

****

“Where are we?” Lucas grunted, touching the leg on which he landed off. The horses had already scurried away through the numerous gigantic holes around them.

“We have no record of this place,” Adriàn frowned suspiciously.

“Given the state of it, it seems no one hasn’t had any record of this place in a while,” (Y/N) stood up cautiously, scanning around the place.

It almost looked like a library, only it was buried in sand.

“Everything looks intact,” Aaron expressed in awe, moving to one bookshelf and feeling the rough edges of the back of one of the books.

“Give us the book!” The rough voice ordered. The men turned around, seeing their enemies already standing and almost indifferent to the new scenery. The ‘Jason’ man was holding a gun to the girl, who was standing not so far from her group.

“Put the gun down, asshole,” Lucas didn’t mince his words.

“Look, all of you,” (Y/N) groaned, seeing as this whole thing was not leading anywhere, “since, clearly, we can’t do each other, can we just have a ceasefire? A-at least until we’re out of this place?”

The small scoff she released after her question made it very clear how ridiculous this whole situation was.

“So be it,” the buffest man explained.

“Since you know all about us, can you at least share your names?” Lucas expressed bitterly, glaring at this ‘Tim’.

“Bruce,” the buff man spoke up.

“Dick, Jason, Tim,” we get the idea, “how about shortie over here?” Aaron ushered.

“This shortie is going to cut your legs off,” the boy snapped.

“Damian,” Bruce tried to soothe.

“We should camp out for the night, we won’t be able to get out of here without any source of light,” the girl instructed, receiving disgruntled signs of agreements from both sides.

Jason lost interest and walked towards the bookshelves, scanning over the book titles.

Another history of Egypt book? He frowned, pulling it out and searching for a comfortable place to lay down and read his book.

“Hungry?” Lucas asked as he sat down beside the girl who stared up at the stars through the hole they had fallen into.

“It’s okay, eat it,” she dismissed.

“I’m not that hungry and we’ll be here all night,” the man pushed the small packet of food to her.

“Tell you what, the first one who’s hungry gets to eat it,” (Y/N) proposed. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, knowing she would let herself starve and not say anything just so he could have a little food in his stomach.

“Fine,” he decided to keep an eye on her until he could tell she was getting hungry.

“Old Man,” Jason spoke softly and gestured for him to approach when his eyes met his. He raised a questioning eyebrow as he peered over his shoulder.

“It says here that once the Order Of Serpents were the crusaders of the land centuries ago,” he whispered, trailing a line under the words he was reading with his fingers. Bruce frowned.

“No, that can’t be right,” he pulled the book out of Jason’s hand and walked away, reading it.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t reading that,” The raven haired man grumbled exasperatedly. Dick smirked.

“What do you find so amusing?” Jason sassed.

“Your face,” he snorted.

****

“They are not here,” Andrès groaned after scouting the village thoroughly, he couldn’t care less how many suspicious gazes he drew to himself. He gestured towards one of his men, lifting his lantern up to light up a small portion of his features.

“I want you to round up everyone and surround the town, start spreading outwards, we might find something,” the leader sighed, “alas, the desert is a cruel and merciless place, it’s no surprise nothing survives here for long, keep your chin up but still stay low, this hostile environment just might become more dangerous!”

****

The girl shivered burying herself against the sand as she hugged herself tightly. The cold was seriously getting to her now, it always scared her how cold the desert could be during the hot and mercilessly hot during the day.

“Come here kid,” Lucas pulled the girl into his side.

“I’m not a kid, I’m barely five years younger than you,” she frowned but not pulling away because of how warm he was.

“Uh huh, sure,” he snorted.

“I will fight you!” she warned.

“I know you would, now sleep, Andrès would kick my ass if he didn’t let me babysit you,”

“You’re really asking for it now aren’t you?!” the girl flicked his forehead.

“Sleep oh my goodness,” he groaned, slapping her head.

“Okay, okay,” she squeaked in surprise, nuzzling his shoulder, “don’t snore like a pig,” the girl teased.

“Clearly you’ve never been in proximity of me sleeping,” he murmured, closing his eyes.

“Thank god, otherwise I would have to witness your snoring,” she whispered, chuckling. A small smile appeared on his lips before he slowly dozed off into sleep.

Let’s hope we can get out of here tomorrow, was his last thought as he feel asleep.

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