#and the radicalization he comes into when his goals are met and he's faced with injustices | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

calummss · 5 months

Text

Him & I | Kai Anderson

masterlist

summary: you came to kai like you were an angel sent from god. he finally met his match. you wanted to get revenge and he cleared the path

pairing: fem! reader x kai anderson

words: 2.9k

a/n: kai is everything i despise in a man yet i cannot stop thinking about him. fuck my rights i’ll make you a manwhich like the woman i’m supposed to be NOT PROOFREAD TBH

Gluttony is a sin. So is sloth. Eating an entire bag of chips was not healthy. Sitting on the couch from dawn to dusk, only getting up to relieve yourself, was not good. But who listens to God these days anyways.

knock knock

‘Be right there!’ You yelled, hoping whomever was at the door could hear you and would wait until you had mentally prepared yourself to get up from your nest. You pressed pause of Golden Girls, placed your bag of gluttony on the table and brushed the remaining crumbs on your finger on your back thigh. Thankfully you showered this morning so whomever you greeted wouldn’t be welcomed with the smell of your tiredness. It was just one of those days where doing nothing was the most satisfying for the soul. Keeping the ripples of the sea of stress at bay, hoping that the storm wouldn’t take over.

Through the small peephole of the front door you saw an unfamiliar man with kool aid blue hair in a suit who was swaying his body as he waited to face the owner. ‘Jesus christ,’ you cursed under your breath, letting your hand slide over your face. Not Jehovah witnesses again. You had told them to not come back but when life serves no purpose we mainly cling to the unimportant aspects of life and let small parts become our worst traits.

You opened the door, dropping your droopy expression and replacing it with a hostile smile. Kindness: America’s number one trait making it an aggravating society.

‘Hi,’ you grinned at him, ‘not interested.’

The man blinked at you, wrinkles on his forehead reminding you of the ripples in your soul as he breathed out a laugh. ‘You don’t even know what I was going to say, Ma’am.’

‘Call it my gift.’

‘You must think I’m in some kind of cult,’ he smiled, ‘I can assure you I’m not. My name is Kai Anderson and I was hoping I could talk to you about my plans for this town so I might be able to persuade you into voting for me to become a member of the town council.’

‘Oh.’

‘Can I come in?’

‘I suppose…’ You were unsure but the thought of your pepper spray in the kitchen drawer made you feel safer, in case anything went wrong, so you resorted back to the smile you first gave him. ‘Of course. Come in…?’

‘Kai Anderson.’

‘Right, Kai. Can I call you Kai? I’m Y/n Blythe. You can call me Y/n. Oh my I am rambling,’

Kai came in as you stepped aside to open up the door for him. He kindly took off his shoes. A rule you had but hadn’t seen most Americans do. You looked back at him as you started to head to the kitchen to make sure you wouldn’t lose him. You immediately opened up the cupboard to grab a mug.

‘Tea or coffee?’

‘Coffee would be nice. Black please and thank you.’

‘No problem,’

‘I have to say,’ he placed his folded hands on top of the counter as he watched you get his coffee ready. ‘You are the first person in this neighbourhood to invite me in and to welcome me so kindly.’

You watched him as you grabbed another mug to make yourself a drink too.

‘Most think my ideas are too radical. Too oppressive. Too different. These people preach about change every day but when I give them a chance to vote for change they ignore me.It’s like these people get off on living in his prison courtyard they’ve created.’

‘So what are your goals, Kai?’ You took a sip of your piping hot drink after handing him his own. ‘To strengthen this town’s safety? God forbid this cluster of people need to be…polished.’

Kai’s face somewhat softened. ‘That’s exactly what I said…’

So when Kai talked about his idea you listened. To every word, to every detail. Kai was going to make this town safe again. And for some reason you couldn’t explain, you believed him. Every single word he said to you in the confidence of your own house, you believed.

‘By the hope you don’t mind me saying this but you are so beautiful and I would hate myself for not asking but am I able to take you out to a café this week ‘ He asked, his hazel eyes burning into your soul, making those ripples turn flat as he gazed at you like a had witnessed a deer in the wild. ‘I just, you’re really beautiful and kind and your beliefs about this town have drawn me to you,’ Kai had gaped at you the moment you had opened the door to him. Eyes shining in the sunlight; you looked like an angel. Perhaps an angel God had sent him to. Like he was supposed to find you. For him to find his own angel.

When you went on that date with Kai, it had turned into three more the following two weeks. He mentioned that he had a group of friends that are helping him with the campaign and the more he revealed about it, the closer you got to the truth, at least that is what you thought. It sounded like a cult whenever he rambled on about anything that involved these ‘friends’ and whether or not it was true, it was something you wanted to find out. It took Kai persistent asking and a little push to allow you to ultimately bring you to his house where for some reason you felt weirdly comfortable. The friends or members you came to know were Winter, his sister, Beverly, Ivy, Gary, Samuel, Meadow and Tex, who had been tending to Kai like servants since you had entered his house which instantly confirmed your suspicions. But it didn’t scare you away. A man able to convince the partly smart people had to confirm some sort of high intelligence and if Kai wanted to make you part of his team or not, in your heart you had already made up your mind: you wanted to join. What did you have left to lose? A life? Family? Job? Perhaps.But when does another opportunity like this present itself. To become infatuated with a dangerously powerful man? Never. Maybe you could change him if you truly wanted to but right now, he was perfect. You would become his angel and he’d be your cult leader.

‘Kai,’ you said as you all gathered across the couches, some of their heads tuning your way. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course, Y/n. Anything,’

‘Are you guys behind the murders that have been happening?’

Now every head turned your way. You could hear the outside wind blowing through the trees, uneven breaths as you uttered your question. Why was it so shocking? They were the murderers. You knew it and sooner or later someone else would’ve found out.

‘It’s fine if you are. You don’t have to deny it.’ You saidly, letting out a small chuckle. ‘I saw a clown costume stashed on the couch and I saw one of them go into Chang's house.’

You saw Meadow stare at the ground. Must’ve been her. Kai looked back at the costume you had nudged your eyes at and confirmed it was Meadows when he gave her a cold stare she didn’t notice.

‘Why?’ Kai turned his head back to look at you with a weirdly twisted smile that made your stomach churn. ‘Do you like that we kill people? Does that excite you?’

‘Honestly I like it and yes. I mean I was attracted to you before but now I really fucking like you,’

His eyebrows softened as you said your words.

‘Can I come and watch a killing?’

Kai had given the others a look to which they all started moving towards the stairs, further confirming the authority he had over them. In a matter of seconds the basement was empty and his presence within the walls grew dramatically. Like smoke he expanded into every crevice of the room, hovering over you like poisonous gas that crept into every cell of your body. Watching your every move like he was a deity. ‘You want to watch a killing?’

‘Yes.’ You replied.

‘What if you were to pick out the person to be killed?’

‘I think I’d like that even more,’ you could feel a tinge of warmth collect on the apples of your cheeks, avoiding eye contact as Kai’s eyes held the most sinful stare you had seen.

‘Who?’

You looked up from between your eyebrows, ‘My ex-boyfriend,’ you started already seeing Kai’s nostrils flare with jealousy. ‘Cheated on me when I gave him nothing but the woman I thought he deserved. Now he deserves to die.’

Kai came awfully close, a chill taking over your body as he placed his large hands on your arms with a firm grip. Tighter than normal; possessive, like a hunter holding its fragile prey. ‘Tonight. Meet us here at 11pm and I swear you will get your revenge, little angel.’ Lust protruded between your frames, like hot heavy steam that fogged up your glasses if you go too close, but went back when you stepped back trying to calm your nerves. Like a priest in a confessional booth he made you nervous. Like he could see into the most intimate parts of your soul; feel you; see you like no one could. The way his voice penetrated your ears telling you what to do. Siren-like commands that you had complete control over yet wanted to treat him like your leader.

Later that evening when you returned back to Kai’s house, you saw everyone dressed in the clown costumes you had seen entering and exiting the Chang’s house only now there were less red stains than before. Meadow lifted up a black trash back with a fading smile. ‘Kai only gave me a few hours' notice. Hope it fits.’ You opened the bag to find a sort of skirt and top with pink and black stripes with a mask that reminded you of a scarier version of a childhood clown you had once encountered at an amusement park where you momentarily got separated from your parents leaving you terrified and vulnerable. Getting changed went by quick and by them time you had gotten into your new outfit, Winter hd already started the van so that as soon as you entered the back of the vehicle, Winter started driving down similar streets you took whilst dating the boy who was in for a sweet treat tonight. Kai kept eyeing you the entire time. Maybe he tried to find a momentary weakness; a flinch of regret, anything he deemed not worthy, but he never found an ounce of repression, only the focus of a woman who knew exactly what and how she was going to do it. The walk to your ex’s house was filled with a relaxing quietness. The calm before the adrenaline would rush through your veins ready to lift you to the clouds as you took in the feeling of satisfaction. The lights were on in his bedroom, the room you had found him in inches deep in the girl you had thought to be your friend at the time. The door creaked almost too loud as Samuel pried open the door with a bolt, waving the rest of the group towards him as he checked the inside of the kitchen. Samuel let you lead the way with the floor plans ingrained into your mind as you had the others on your trail awaiting you to let them know when you stood outside his door. Marshall—said ex-boyfriend was blasting old rap music so you knew he was showering. He said the shower provided him with the need to rap and listen to old hip hop. One of his quirks you had learned to love but now loathed. With the song changing to Eminem’s discography, the music you sang together later to find him fucking her to Evil Seed brought up a fire in your stomach ready to unleash. Kai came up behind you and placed his hand on your shoulder telling you to go in. Feeling a bump of confidence, you opened the door and walked across his room to where his bathroom door stood shut. You decided to not wear the mask Meadow had given you to let Marshall feel calm before real intentions were laid before him.

You opened the door, Marshall’s shower steam covering his body behind the glass, eyes shut, mouth moving to the songs. You walked over slowly, yet he never noticed anything until you had said Hello, inches away from him. Marshall jumped back almost losing balance, wide eyes and raised eyebrows relaxing when he realised it was you, a faint chuckled escaping him as he reached for the music box to turn down the music.

‘What are you doing here?’ He asked nicely, a hint of confusion in his eyes.

‘I missed you.’

‘You left me.’

‘I know. I think it was a mistake.’

He didn’t answer.

‘I wasn’t good enough and should’ve been better so that you wouldn’t have to look for the missing part of me in other women. My fault for not being good enough.’

‘You really want to get back together?’

‘Yes,’ you came closer, reaching for his cock to palm him. He lifted his head, lip quivering as he fought to keep his eyes open. He lowered his head to say something by the way he had opened his mouth but when he opened his eyes again, his knotted eyebrows staring past you had made you aware that the others must’ve been behind you by now.

‘Who are they?’

‘My friends.’ You continued to pump his cock, giving you complete control over him with a single motion. You could feel Kai’s eyes slicing into your back but it didn’t matter. You weren’t enjoying stroking his cock because you wanted him, all you needed was control and for a man irresistible to a handjob it was the perfect weapon to be used. ‘They’re here to help me.’

‘With what?’

‘To kill you.’

‘What.’

‘You hurt me, Marshall. You tossed me aside and fucked another woman. You broke my heart.’ Your grip tightened around him, the pressure inching him closer to coming. ‘Now I have to do the same. To move on.’

‘What—What the fuck are you on about, Y/n.’ He tried to push you away but you pulled him closer with a tug. ‘Get out.’

‘No.’

‘Leave or I’ll call the fucking cops.’

‘Fine,’ you said. ‘Can I take what’s mine at least?’ You stared past the others into the old room you were sure still had a few of your items you had forgotten about.

‘Sure but after I want you to fucking leave.’

‘Okay.’ You smiled.

A low-pitched scream filled the bathroom door as you stared at Marshall whose eyes rolled into the back of his head, hand flying to his front only to find his cock in your hands, red dripping from both of you as you threw it over your shoulder. ‘I’ll take the rest of you with me.’

After you had gotten your revenge on Marshall, you stood around him in a circle, covered in blood splatters and sweat pearls.

‘That was the most beautiful thing I have ever done and seen.’ You breathed, catching your breath as you stared at the bloody sight.

Kai stared at you with heart eyes. He could’ve gotten down on one knee that second and asked you to marry him but the thought of you palming Marshall less than twenty minutes ago had made his eyes go dark, a wave of anger and jealousy consuming him entirely as he stormed off downstairs. You immediately followed him to see him slide off his clown head, baby hairs sticking to his temples, nostrils flaring like they had before at his home. He was angry.

‘Why did you do that?’ He growled.

‘I did it because Marshall cannot say or do anything when his cock feels good. I wanted to control him one last time. Why? Did it make you jealous?’

‘Yes it fucking did?’ He bellowed, spit coming from his mouth as he strutt towards you, pushing you into the wall, his hand around your throat as he came dangerously close. ‘You tell me you basically like me and then touch another man’s cock. Are you a whore? Why did you do it!’

‘Would it make you feel better if I touched you now?’

‘Don’t play with me.’ He snarled, his grip on your throat now so tight you could feel the air thinning. ‘You’re mine.’

‘I know.’

‘Say it!’

‘I’m yours.’

‘And don’t you forget it.’ He pulled you to his lips by your throat, releasing the pressure that had bound you to half breaths.

He was your leader and you were his angel. In the end it was him and you. Only a love that you could understand and that was fine because you didn’t want to share any part of him anyway.

176 notes · View notes

caprica99 · 3 years

Text

Shadow and Bone rant, because I need it

Shadow and Bone has some incredible potential, both the books and the show, but neither actually lives up to it.

Alina could have been interesting. Cartographer is a rare profession for fictional characters, but in the books/show she's just a beginner (at 17/20 it's understandable). Make her at least 25 with 9 years of experience in the army, give her a promotion with subordinates she's responsible for and you would get a more interesting character who saw some serious shit in the army, acts like a soldier, and knows responsibility. (And maybe wants to stop the war at all cost, utilizing the Fold maybe.*wink, wink*)

It bothered me that we never saw her using cartography this profession that makes her unique for reaching her goals. In the show, she has dreams about the stag. It would have been interesting to see HER figuring out the whereabouts of the stag by using the stag's surroundings like mountains, specific types of trees, topography, etc. Work smarter, not harder.

Diana Bishop suffers from the same passiveness in the first book of the All Souls trilogy, but she actively uses her science historian background and those passages are the most interesting parts of her POV. Alina's interest in drawing and geography would give her a unique personality, and made her relatable to many (see ADoW and history nerds). Many YA heroines have a specific and useful skillset: Katniss-archery, Clary Fray-drawing, etc. Sadly, her entire personality is running away with Mal.

Mal's character feels pointless to me. The story depicts an oppressed minority group with special powers, and their struggles in the world, the heroine and the antagonist are both part of the said minority group, and he's constantly shown to be a bigot against the Grisha, so what makes him so important to the plot? His tracking skills? Give the job to a no-name tracker and I wouldn't miss him.

At least the show made him more likable, but Archie and Jessie still lack romantic chemistry. However his chemistry with his friends Mikhail and Dubrov was spot on, I really liked it. They showed life as a simple otkazat'sya soldier on the front, and their death was painful to watch. I thought that his friend's death would make a bigger impact on Mal, him wanting to get revenge on the fjerdans and end the war at all cost, and saying that maybe Kirigan's plan actually makes sense would make an interesting narrative. (They are at war dammit, there's no black and white only grey.)

Mal and Alina don't act like soldiers in a war-torn country, they act like American teenagers, and it's annoying. The General and Ivan are the only ones who act as soldiers in a 3 front war. When the villain shows the most responsibility in your story you should rewrite your heroes completely, or make the villain your hero.

The show is better than the books. It's a rare phenomenon but it is something everyone agrees upon. To me, the first book reads like a draft the author forgot to expand. The worldbuilding, the Grisha, and the characters were a perfect base to an original fantasy universe, but it all falls flat. The show made it richer by introducing multiple POVs and giving the actors more leeway (Ben Barnes ladies and gentlemen). But in the end, they had to stick to the books.

This is incredibly confusing to me because we have numerous fanfictions about Alina staying at the Little Palace, embracing her Grisha side, helping the Darkling because his plan makes sense, or changing his plan by coming up with a better one, or having dark!Alina etc... Clearly, this is what book fans wanted: giving Alina agency, make her realize that she had to work with the Darkling because she's Grisha too and they have the same goals but have different methods, let her be Professor X to Alexander's Magneto, ending the corrupt and incompetent Lantsov line, anything would have been better than taking Baghra's words at face value and running off.

Change I like: the whole West-Ravka storyline, it made the General decision understandable. Zlatan sold Grisha to the fjerdans, wanted to kill Alina and his actions could have led to a civil war, Kirigan only acted as a general of his time (not 21 century guys, we are talking about the unforgiving 19 century) and besides we only see the destruction of Zlatans army (BTW they were ready to kill everyone on the skiff) and not the whole city.

Change I don't like: making Alina half Shu. I'm not completely against it, but it was poorly executed. The racism Alina faces overshadows the Grisha-hate, rather than complementing it. Alina acts like being half Shu is somehow worse than being Grisha, eventough there are literal Holocausts going on against Grisha in two neighbouring countries, slavery in another, and the show never addresses it. This is the biggest problem with her character, she never embraces being Grisha, sides with the muggles, and makes her mission to kill the only person who stands between Grisha and persecution.

Would have been good: the show could have made little 5 minute scenes depicting the plight of Grisha in other countries. Either at the beginning or the end of every episode.

Episode 2: the Ice Court

Episode 3: the Shu concentration camps with the experimenting

Episode 4: slavery in Kerch

Episode 5: the Wandering Isle with consuming grisha blood

Episode 6: the Demon in the Woods storyline

Episode 7: Luda+Aleksander

And now... The Darkling/ Aleksander Morozov/ General Kirigan: the most interesting character in the entire series.

In the first half of SaB he was depicted as every soldier's dream general. Sitting and eating with his men, fighting side by side with them, constantly checking on his troops while other generals prefer to attend court. But in the second half, he transforms into a Mustache Twirling Villain TM and makes rather OOC decisions throughout the trilogy. He could have been a generic villain from the start, but why make him then a compelling character with understandable motivations?

In the books, I understood his motivations, but in the show, he was completely right. His backstory shows that he tried peaceful tactics but those never worked out. The only thing that worked against his enemies was power and violence. The price of hesitance was Luda's life (I'm willing to bet they were married). The Fold was actually a mistake born from desperation. He spent centuries in hiding, seeing his people persecuted. Even with the Little Palace and the Second Army Grisha are considered second-class citizens, they can't hold properties. He has to walk the fine line between usefulness and being a threat. He has to bow to incompetent Kings who don't give a shit about the state of the country. If Alina had to go through so much how would she end up? Because it's a miracle that Aleksander still has it in him to fight for the Grisha.

Many bring up Nikolai Lantsov as the Darklings foil ( or Diet Darkling as @ambitious-witch calls him) to show there is an alternative to Aleksander, but it's wrong. Because Nikolai was never part of an oppressed minority group, never had to fear centuries of persecution, he's an actual prince, it's easy to not be radicalized with his background.

Bonus: If Bardugo wanted to create a fictional world with tsarist Russia as a base, the least she could have done is to open a Wikipedia page or a dictionary for the correct names and terms. Starkov is a man's name: Alina Starkova is the correct form. Ilya Morozov, Aleksander Morozov, and Baghra Morozova would be the correct forms.

EDIT: They could have shown the building of the Little Palace and the start of the Second Army. I wanted to see the normal life at the Little Palace before Alina came along, little Grisha enjoying their powers, their reaction if the Darkling comes to see their training (I headcanon he visits the lessons at least once a year), the other teachers, and their reaction to Alina. Alina in canon is good with kids, maybe if she had spent time with little Grisha, she could have embraced her powers sooner. Having met with foreigners (Fjerdan, or Shu) and hearing their gruesome accounts of the foreign treatment of the Grisha would made her willing to fight for their future.

#shadow and bone #sab netflix #sab spoilers #grishaverse #anti leigh bardugo #the darkling #alexander kirigan #aleksander kirigan #aleksander morozova #alexander morozova #alina starkov #shadow and bone cast #shadow and bone netflix #darklina #alina x darkling #malyen oretsev

835 notes · View notes

linkspooky · 3 years

Text

The Dragon - Megumi and Geto

Geto and Megumi are both the black wolves, the yang in their relationship with Gojo and Yuji respectively. However they are also parallels to one another. Both of them represent the black yang, both are deeply emotional people, and both are also partners and secondary to the strongest sorcerer of their generation. Geto who was the part of the strongest duo along with Gojo, and also Megumi who was the one who saved, and continues to protect Itadori even after he swallowed Sukuna’s finger. They also tend to be associated with serpents (Megumi - Oboro the snake, Geto summons a dragon). More under the cut.

1. It’s Always the Quiet Ones

Gojo and Yuji are introduced as a teacher and student duo from the start of the manga so their connection between each other is already apparent. Geto and Megumi have never met each other, however, there are already several parallels between them.

Megumi and Geto are characters who are more concerned with “the right thing to do” rather than saving everyone in front of them. Yuji and Geto are very self involved individuals. They’re more focused on themselves. Yuji and Gojo both have this central goal of becoming the strongest, and for different reasons. Gojo because he’s such a staunch individualist whose goal is to be the best version of himself he can be, and Yuji because he needs that strength in order to save people.

Gojo and Yuji are people who think about themselves first and foremost. Megumi and Geto are people very concerned with everyone around them. It’s Megumi and Geto who consider the consequences of their actions and how it will affect others. (Teenage Gojo) and Yuji tend to be quite irresponsible with their power. They want to be strong, but they don’t really think about how they want to use that power to impact the world around them. Because they as people are not overly concerned with the world. Yuji only thinks about saving people immediately in front of him, and Gojo mostly thniks about himself.

It’s that old adage about power and repsonsibility. With great power comes great responsibility. However, the duos Megumi / Yuji and Geto / Gojo are both two halves of the same person. Gojo and Yuji are both the powerhouses of that duo, however it’s Geto and Megumi who are concerned with how to use that power responsibility for others.

There are several parallels betwen Megumi and Geto. Starting with their Curse Techniques. Megumi and Geto both use summoned entities in order to fight for them while Gojo and Yuji are powerhouses who fight their enemies head on. Megumi and Geto summon powerful creatures to do most of the fighting for them.

They both seem to be second strongest after their respective partners. Geto is second strongest after Gojo, and Megumi is second strongest after Yuji. However, at the same time it’s implied that both of them intentionally hold themselves back. That their cursed techniques could be used for much more than they are currently capable of.

A ten shadows loser is capable of overpowering the limitless user with a six eyes. However, it’s implied by Gojo constantly that Megumi is someone who constantly holds himself back, because unlike Gojo his number one priority is not being the strongest.

Geto at the same time is someone who is made out to be not as strong as Satoru Gojo, but at the same time, it seems someone like Getwo is way better at using his body to his full potential than he is. At the same time Getwo also comments that Geto would have won, if he had not ordered his forces to pull back. Geto lost because he’s more concerned with other people, Geto and Megumi are both people who hold themselves back because they prioritize people over themselves.

As awful as Geto is. As wrongheaded. As much of a murderer he is. He’s not a selfish person who can sacrifice his family for the sake of his goal. If only he were a little more selfish, if only he loved people a little less, he probably would not have been broken by the world in the same way he did. One more important parallel between the two of them is unlike Gojo and Yuji, Megumi and Geto seem to be really aware of the harshness and unfairness of the world around them and really affected by it.

Of course, Gojo is aware the Jujutsu world is corrupt too, and he’s affected by it in his own way, but he’s never pushed to a breaking point like Geto was. Gojo simply isn’t as invested in other people as Geto is, it doesn’t make Geto or Gojo better as a person it just makes them different and their priorities different.

Geto and Megumi’s reflections of the world mirror one another. Their reflections of the world always revolve around the sentiment that the world is fundamentally unfair, no matter how just the two of them try to be. Remember, the key word for both of them is righteousness. They are responsible people who try and obsess over doing the right thing.

Megumi refers to Jujutsu sorcerers as merely a cog in the system getting grinded down. Which is exactly what we witness happens to Geto. It’s because the fact that Jujutsu Sorcerers are treated as nothing more than disposable cogs in this great wide system, and they’re treated this way even as children that causes Geto to break to the extent that he does, becoming a broken cog.

Merely doing their duty as a Jujutsu Sorcerer isn’t enough for either of them. Geto begins with believing that what he’s doing he’s doing out of a sense of duty. He begins believing that he’s doing the right thing. They both come to a question of who they are supposed to save as Jujutsu Sorcerers. However, Megumi and Geto both witness a complete innocent suffering. A person that they describe as a good person, a person that they tried to protect, only to fail to protect them and watch that person. For Geto it was Riko, for Megumi it was Tsumiki.

Geto witnessed Rika die just after he promised to protect her as the strongest. Megumi only accepted Gojo’s offer to become a Jujutsu Sorcerer in the future because he thought it would help give him money to take care of Tsumiki. They both try to protect someone, and fail, and it makes their efforts seem pointless. After that point they question what their role in things even is. It left them questioning everything.

The final parallel between Geto and Megumi is that they’re both reasonable and rational on the surface. They’re both people always seeking a reason in things. It’s Geto of all people who is the person to tell Gojo that they can’t just do whatever they want because they’re powerful, they need responsibility, reason to chain their actions to. Geto becomes Gojo’s tether. Megumi is Yuji’s tether. In a way, both Gojo and Yuji were saved by their respective partners. Geto stopped Gojo from killing so many people, and Megumi saved Yuji at the beginning of the manga allowing him to become a cursed sorcerer rather than being executed right away at the start of the manga. However, at the same time both Megumi and Yuji have these deep and dark emotions unaddresssed that they can’t hold back with reasons.

Geto and Megumi carry lots of dark emotions and hurt feelings inside of them, and rather than trying to deal with them they tend to repress them in order to keep appearing as the rational and responsible for one. However, on the flip side of things, it means that they both have a tendency to flip. The thing about repressing these very angry, and hurt emotions is that repressing them does not make them go away. It merely causes them to pile up until the weight becomes unbearable and they break.

Geto and Megumi handle their emotions in the same way, and all of their hurt feelings tend to come from the same place. It’s not that Megumi and Geto hate people. In fact they love people. Megumi and Geto expect people to be much better than theyare. They expect the world to be a good place. ANd, when the world turns out to be not what they expected to be they’re not just disappointed they’re mad.

Megumi believes in good, compassionate people. He feels the world should be kinder to good people, he believes those people should be allowed a little happiness. He wants to protect people like Yuji and his sister because he sees a goodness in them he can’t see in himself. Megumi, always sees the best in the people he meets, that’s why he’s disappointed when he’s faced with the worst of them.

The same way that Megumi belives in good people, Geto believes in his connections to his comrades and to other people. Geto goes about it the wrong way entirely, but what he wants from the bottom of his heart is just a world where jujutsu sorcerers don’t have to be killed as teenagers. He, just like Yuji, wants the world to be a better place then it is currently. It’s just Geto has taken radical action to make that chane, whereas Megumi is fighting small battles one fight at a time.

They’re both characters whose hearts are in the right places. They both have good intentions. However, the unchecked emotions of both characters makes Geto a bomb, and Megumi a land mine waiting to explode. As good as they are, they’re full of dangerous bad feelings. They’re both living embodiments of the phrase “the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

Geto represents the dangerous person that Megumi could become, while at the same time his partnership with Gojo shows what Megumi can make of himself if he opens himself to others. Geto decided to leave and try to fix the world on his own. Geto decided to try to hold all that weight on his shoulders until he broke, and then he broke away from Gojo. Geto and Gojo were clearly set up as a duo. They were meant to find balance with one another. However, they just couldn’t be together. They were both too busy trying to save the world alone, they didn’t know how to be together, and didn’t know how to be kids.

Megumi and Yuji are another strongest duo. Another second to chance to find the balance between each other that Gojo and Geto couldn’t find. Megumi is seriously off balance, and doesn’t know how to balance saving people with his sense of righteousness but that’s what Yuji is for. The two of them have the potential to break part like Gojo and Geto did, but they also have the potential to find true balance in one another.

#megumi fushigoro #fushigoro megumi #suguru geto #geto suguru #getou suguru #suguru getou #itadori yuji #itafushi #satosugu #jjk meta #jujutsu kaisen meta #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen theory #jujutsu kaisen daily #jjkdaily

1K notes · View notes

krreader · 4 years

Text

black swan.

pairing: king!min yoongi x spymaster!reader fandom: bts warnings: non idol!au ; royal!au ; historical!au ; death ; blood genre: angst ; fluff word count: 1.9k+

summary: you’ve always been loyal to the king, ever since you became his left hand, but the amount of deaths resting on your shoulders get to you every now and then. you rarely allow yourself to be vulnerable, too afraid that someone might see.. but anyone would have been better than for king yoongi to find you in this situation.

a/n: now, I’m going to be honest. I had to change quite a lot of your request to make it fit the idea that I had, but I think I managed to write it in a way that you’ll still be happy with it @strawbaeree

If someone had told you as a child this is where you'd end up when you're older, you probably would have cried and then ran away from what was to come. The future and the consequences of that future would have scared you, so much that you wouldn't have been able to fathom it, much less see it become reality.

This life that you lived now wasn't a life that you had chosen willingly. If you have had the choice, you would have done what your mother had always wanted and found love, living a peaceful and content life with your family somewhere on a farm where you’d be bothered by nobody.

But you were never given that choice.

Soon after your mother had passed and you were left to fight for survival, you had stumbled over an ambush in the woods while trying to find some berries to eat. You had heard the screams of a woman who was begging her attackers to kill her and not her son.

Everyone else would have run back to the village and gotten help, but your instincts that you cursed in hindsight made you run towards the ambush, pick up a dagger that you found on the corpse of someone – most likely another attacker that was killed in the ambush – and ram it into the back of the attacker that was threatening the woman and her child.

The woman let out a scream, mostly out of surprise and not shock of all the blood, but you couldn’t scream, not even after you realized that you had just taken someone’s life.

All you could do was watch the man crumble to the ground, dig his fingers into the dirt below him as he tried to get back up, but he simply couldn't. Whatever you had hit when you had stabbed him, it prevented him from moving. All he could do was lie there and slowly bleed out.

It was only when the woman got up and grabbed your face to make you look at her and not at the man on the ground anymore, that you realized who it was that you had saved that day.

Queen Eun Jung and her son prince Yoongi had been on the way back to the palace when they had been ambushed by a group of radicals who thought that the future king wasn't a royal at all, but an usurper. They wanted a distant relative who had been preparing for war against your kingdom to become king.

“The rightful ruler” is what they called him.

If they had succeeded that day, who knew what kind of person you'd be now.

But you had killed that man without having given it much thought on what the consequences of that action would be. Back then, you had just wanted to help. But the queen... she had seen your... 'potential'.

“My son will need a left and a right hand once he becomes king. I want you to be his left.”

You were only a child when she had said that. Left hand had meant nothing to you until you had started your training with the left hand of the – then - king.

Left hand was just a nicer word for the truth.

The truth was assassin. Spymaster. The one who'd do all the dirty work that no one else was willing to do.

You had often thought about running away back then, being so scared about what kind of life was lying ahead of you as you were taken on countless of missions and watched your master kill dozens of people. But what if you ran away? What then? You had no family, no money, nowhere to go. At least in the palace, you had a purpose, a roof over your head and warm meals to fight the hunger.

So you had stayed.

And that is how you became the woman that you were today.

Living in the shadows, never to be seen by anyone or anything except for your – now – king.

When you had met Yoongi, he was a gentle child. Never wanted to hurt a fly and was more interested in playing catch with you than learning about the history of his kingdom. He often snuck into your room at night and told you made-up ghost stories that made you giggle. He stole the sweets that you liked so much out of the kitchens, just because he knew you’d smile once he’d give them to you.

But he had changed throughout the years.

His father had died in war soon after you had joined them at the royal grounds and his mother succumbed to a fever a few years later. Suddenly being all alone, he threw himself into the world of politics, his goal now being that of his parents.

Finally ridding his lands of the treacherous king that would see him lie dead at the foot of the throne that 'the rightful ruler’ so desperately sought.

Now, your conversations didn't revolve around your favorite animal or favorite colors anymore.

Now, all he talked about, was who you should kill to give him any advantage in the upcoming war.

At first, killing was something that kept you up and night. Something that made you sob your eyes out, weep for those that had fallen by your hand. You never forgot the first man you killed, but throughout the years, the faces of those lives that you had taken started to blur, mostly because it was simply too many to remember.

You had become a shell of your past self, a killing machine which only purpose in life was to do what her king commanded her.

Spy.

Kill.

Report.

But every now and then, that little girl that you wanted to hold on to so badly, showed herself.

There was currently a big festival held at the palace after the right hand of the king – his commander – had successfully pushed back a foreign army at the border. A reason for celebration, definitely.

But you had never been one for these festivities.

And so you started to walk towards the only place in here that you ever felt peaceful at.

The huge lake at the outskirts of the royal grounds that was only illuminated by the moon casting its shine down onto the water.

The sound of strings started to fade, slowly, leaving only a faint sound that made you close your eyes and take a deep breath, feeling all the stress, anxiety and sadness slip away for just a moment.

You took off your shoes, raising the skirts of your red robes as you dipped your feet into the coldness of the water.

It was these moments that made you feel most alive and that was unfortunately not a feeling you often had anymore. It was as if the more lives you took, the more you died yourself.

You were so far gone in that moment – something that a spymaster definitely shouldn't be – that you didn't realize the reason for why you were here at the palace approached you. Or rather.. the lake, it seemed. Because you weren’t the only one that pretended to be strong day in and day out, when in reality, they would love nothing more than to just give up.

King Yoongi stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you standing there, his lips parting, even more so when you let your hair down, a sight that he hadn't seen since he was a child.

It was easy to forget that you were a beautiful woman, but as Yoongi was staring at you now, he remembered.

He remembered how fond he was of you when you were still children. How he wanted you to like him so badly, but at a certain point, with the tasks that he gave you, he gave up on that dream. You could never be more than a left hand for him. He had made you do too many bad things for you to see him in a good light.

But every now and then, his mind wandered to a place in which you and him had become lovers, maybe in which you had run away and started the peaceful life that you had always dreamed of.

It was naive to think so, thoughts he’d never say out loud.

But they were loud in his mind when they came.

Yoongi watched you pull out your dagger from under your dress and lean down, dipping it under the water and gently washing it off despite there not being any blood on it. He watched you caress the blade, then hold it up into the moonlight to inspect it, before gently placing it behind you on the grass. And once the dagger was safely put away, you pulled up the sleeves off your dress and started to wipe your arms.

It was only then that he saw the scars.

Some fresh, some old.

You had come back from a mission only yesterday and while you had been successful as always, didn't mean that you didn't run into trouble at some point.

His heart started to do things to him that he didn't like. A king shouldn't feel what he was feeling now.

Regret.

It was his mother that had dragged you to the castle with them, but it was him that gave you task after task. It was him that sent you into dangers again and again. It was him that would ultimately be responsible for your death.

Despite hating it, the feeling was too strong to ignore and so he made himself known by finally walking over to you.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright?”

In your head, you cursed yourself for being vulnerable out in the open, for letting your guard down when others could see you. And it wasn't just anyone that saw you in that state, but the man that should have never seen that you were still a person. Because that would make it harder to give orders.

You quickly put your knife away, pushed your sleeves down and put your hair back up in the ponytail like you did every day.

Yoongi let out a heavy sigh when you turned around and bowed, no sign of the real woman that you were a moment ago left.

You were his left hand again.

Nothing more and nothing less.

“Forgive me, my king. It was a moment of weakness.”

But instead of walking away with a nod like he should have, Yoongi actually closed the distance until he was right in front of you.

“Let me see,” his voice was soft and he reached out for your arms, pushing your sleeves back up.

You should have walked away that very second, but the little girl that liked the little boy so much kept you standing still and watched his every move carefully.

The man that people were so afraid of, that had gotten the title 'the mad king' was standing so close to you, tending to your past wounds with the softest touch possible.

You knew him, you knew that he wasn’t what people made him out to be.

But being so open with you was not something you had expected.

“You don’t have to do that,” your voice was fragile, which rarely happened.

“I know I don't,” he looked up into your eyes, “But I want to.”

It was quiet for a moment, only the faint sound of the strings were still playing in the background. Yoongi gently pulled you out of the water so you were standing in the grass with him before he took another look at the scars. His thumb was brushing over them, so softly as if he was afraid he'd hurt you... more than he already has.

You could tell that's what he was thinking, because despite the relationship you now had, you knew him better than anyone else, maybe even better than he knew himself.

“What happened to us, (Y/N)?” you could see him gulp down hard after his question.

“We grew up,” your eyes never left his face and you weren't startled when he suddenly looked up into your eyes again, even when you realized how close you were, “Life does that to you.”

You could see him think for a moment before his hand came up to your face to brush over a scar on your cheek, a scar that you had gotten young, from a mission that he had sent you on. A mission that you had almost died on.

“I wish it hadn't,” you didn't move an inch now, your breathing even, even when he started to caress your cheek, “I wish we were still the carefree children from years ago. I wish I could still sneak treats into your room to make you smile.”

A thought that often crossed your mind too. It was comforting to hear that you weren't the only one stuck in that time that seemed to have been so much easier.

But unlike him, who seemingly forgot who he was for a moment and where you were, you didn't. You had already let yourself be vulnerable before, but you wouldn’t let him be. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist and smiled softly at him, “I think it'd be better for you to go back to your festivities, my king.”

What surprised you was the hurt look that flashed over his face for just a split second.

But you still saw it.

You didn't know what he had hoped would happen tonight, maybe for you and him to finally be honest with each other and not pretend like you were nothing other than his tool for killing, but apparently you didn't want that.

Or so Yoongi thought, when he cleared his throat and walked away without another word.

But it wasn't like that.

You were simply doing what you had always been doing.

Protecting him.

Your eyes wandered to the man standing in the shadows that had watched all of this. It was only when Yoongi was gone that he retreated back into the shadows.

“In another life, Yoongi,” you whispered to yourself as you slipped back into your shoes, before following him, “But it can't be this one.”

#bts imagine #bts x reader #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #min yoongi imagine #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #suga imagine #bangtan boys #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #min yoongi #suga #yoongi #reader #requests

246 notes · View notes

geekgemsspooksandtoons · 3 years

Text

My likely plans for The Mask Rebirth Part 3

This is something I told Kaijuguy earlier that I’m gonna write this. But I’m not gonna make it yet. Because I’m still wondering about it. And also on Thursday, me and my family are gonna go to Universal Studios. And we’ll be back on Saturday. I will likely have my phone. But I may not post a lot or...it depends.

Part 3 is something I’ve really wondered about. Including having some inspiration from, “The Hunt For Green October”. But instead of shoving Ray Tuttle and his daughter’s story into this. I’ve decided that...may be part 4. So those jokes I said to Kaijuguy are likely gonna be a thing.

Anyway, I strangely want to make this seem like a leaked plot details thing before a movie comes out. You know that kind of shit right? I think I just want a reaction of how people may feel towards it. Before I officially make the thing.

Including I just wanna mention what I did with part 2. It strangely felt like an adult extended The Mask Animated Series episode in a sense...that was something I had thought long ago...but let’s get to the point. Of what the direction for this story was.

I have said characters like Owen Big Head, Stanley Big Head Killer, Davida Steelmine, Walter, and Pretorius are involved with this. And I may just reveal the secret behind Pretorius that I have kept secret. If I want to go through with it.

The story may take 6 months after part 2. With Edge City in a much better position after crime has seriously lowered down. And I’ve been thinking part 1 takes place in January. Part 2 takes place in June. And finally, part 3 takes place in December. So in a year, Owen has had the Mask Of Loki for nearly a year.

With Edge City actually being in a more peaceful state. But this doesn’t take place during Christmas. It’s before it. Owen’s mother, Anna, decides to take her son and their roommate Tina on possibly a two week vacation. With Leonor joining them. With the vacation taking place in either Finland or Sweden. Very likely Finland. Despite knowing he needs a much needed vacation. He brings the Mask Of Loki in case. Practically bring Loki along as well.

But during those 6 months. Stanley was thought to be dead after his body wasn’t found. But in fact, he had survived and tried to start a new life with a new name in Edge City. Mainly due to the possibility the police and Big Head may try to look for him. Stanley is more anti social and angry at life. Keeping to himself, like a hermit. Until an unknown man gives him a mysterious gift. A green mask of sorts.

Having kept his memory of wearing the Mask Of Jormungandr. But weary of Davida’s deception of him. He accepts the strange gift.

During this as well, after 6 months of being in prison and everyone against her. Vicky Pratt, mostly known as Davida Steelmine has escaped prison. With a new goal of exacting vengeance upon Owen Heffernan. But first going to the young man’s house, sneaking in, and taking the Mask Of Hel. And finding out he’s in Finland. She wants to start a new life. But she’s angered by having been exposed for who she is. She wants payback first.

Back to Stanley, when he wears the mask. He turns into what appears to be Big Head. But looking different. But to Stanley, this is the greatest thing ever. And possibly better than being Serpent Man. He embraces the terrible nature of the mask starts using his newfound powers by killing the Butcher gang first. Which had beat him up much earlier. And while I question if I wanna make Stanley’s rampage one night or two.

Compared to Owen’s first outing as Big Head. Which was mainly fun mischief. Stanley goes on a killing spree against people that have wrong him in anyway. Even such as the car mechanics, a man who owned him 60 bucks. Which also results in him killing many police officers trying to stop him.

But there’s a goal in mind that Stanley has. To find Vicky/Davida, Tina, and finally Big Head himself. The goal to finally kill all three. The ones that hurt him the most.

Yet during a situation where it’s only Kellaway and Stanley. Kellaway is confused and horrified by what seems to be Owen going on a random savage rampage. He tries to talk to him and calm him down. Asking him if something is wrong, instead of getting angry at him. But to Kellaway’s shock, Big Head tells him, “Who the Hell is Owen!?” And asking why is Kellaway calling him that and maybe Stanley revealing who he is, likely not. Which results in both realizing two different things.

Kellaway realizing, horrified, but strangely relieved that this Big Head isn’t Owen. And to Stanley, he’s shocked and remembers Owen Heffernan, he puts it together. Realizing Owen is very likely Big Head.

After escaping the police, and going to a place where he could hide. Stanley is met Walter, and the two fight. But the same man who gave Stanley the mask tells Walter to stop fighting him. Revealing Walter is with this unknown man. He reveals himself to be Septimius Pretorius. A very secretive man that the crime lords of Edge City would send traitors or anyone they hated to be tortured. But due to his secretive nature, and no one exactly knowing who he is. Most people didn’t like talking about him. As some gangsters would tell others stories about Pretorius to scare them. Along with Dorian when he was alive having met Pretorius in person before, and praising his work.

I’d like to admit, I got this idea form @kaijuguy19 I tried to remember. So thank him. On the part where I talk about Pretorius and Walter being strangely friends in a way.

And the biggest thing that made people strangely afraid of Pretorius. Despite he never made an attempt to be a crime lord. He was the one who made Walter who he is. While Walter was strong and huge already. He met Pretorius earlier in life, and Septimius has told others he merely improved Walter.

He reveals he created that duplicate mask for Stanley personally. To help him achieve his revenge and give him want he wanted. Despite Stanley’s hesitation to trust someone again. He gains Stanley’s trust by telling him that Vicky/Davida and Tina/Kathy are in Finland. But also telling Stanley what he has been wondering. Confirming that Owen Heffernan was his hero, Big Head. Who is in Finland as well with Tina too.

While not considering Pretorius or Walter as new friends. Stanley joins them, with Pretorius giving them a private plane ride to Finland.

Back to Kellaway, who tells Lionel that this Big Head isn’t Owen. And he believes him because of how radically different this Big Head dresses and sounds. The two go to Owen’s house. But realizing Davida has snuck in and stole her old mask. What horrifies the two more is the catch that she’s gonna be possibly going to Finland as well.

Wanting to confront the Owen himself instead of calling him. They take a plane ride to Finland. With possibly trying to come up with a reason why the Big Head Killer is going there. But also maybe Davida. I’m not sure about this. And I may change this. Such as trying to call them. But they don’t have their phone numbers.

So in this case.

In Finland. Owen as Big Head and others are gonna have to face off Davida Steelmine who wants revenge. Walter, who wants payback as well. But also Stanley as a new Big Head, who desires the same thing. But against Davida and Owen. With Pretorius in the background.

In what is said to be the happiest country in the world....holy shit.

Now Pretorius. This was this the idea I felt was crazy. So I’ll just reveal it. The idea that Pretorius was one of the survivors of Ragnarok. And was responsible for killing Sigyn. The wife of Loki, and the one keeping Ragnarok at bay. With Sigyn’s killer never found, her death was the final kick in Loki’s becoming ultimately evil. Presuming the gods had killed her. Thinking the gods want Ragnarok to happen. And becoming more nihilistic, resulting his fate within the mask.

Along with the other idea combined with that Pretorius was one of the survivors who had imprisoned Hel into her own mask. But also being the one who had come up with the idea to imprison Loki and his family that they felt caused Ragnarok. But due to this, his existence was ultimately covered up by the survivors of Ragnarok. And he didn’t mind that. Not a god, but merely someone able to use magic in a similar fashion like science.

Having lived throughout history with humanity for so long. He came to Edge City because of it’s horrible nature with crime. And one of the only people who seems to have developed a sort of friendship with Walter. Mainly both respecting each other for their talents. But also Walter respecting Pretorius for making him stronger than before.

Having believed the masks have been lost to time. Until Big Head showed up. He was curious, yet confused. But when Dorian had become a giant werewolf in a way. He started to wonder if humans have finally found the masks. His suspicions were confirmed when it was revealed Davida Steelmine and Stanley Ipkiss had been using the mask of Hel and Jormugandr. But also even learning the Mask Of Loki before all this, was found in Africa before. Yet it was stolen and never found again. With smaller stories of an similar Big Head like figure causing mischief. But he suddenly disappeared.

Having kept in the shadows, trying to figure out who was really Big Head. And why wasn’t the wearer gone insane. He eventually found out, but didn’t act on anything. But what he had learn is that Stanley Ipkiss to him, should’ve been the one that found the mask and not Owen. Believing the young man had tainted the mask, and possibly changed Loki.

After 6 months, trying to create what he felt was a better mask. Using whatever magic he had left. With the inclusion of voodoo involved. The Death Mask, a duplicate of Loki’s mask and soul.

I think I’ve said enough...hope you folks like this. Mainly you Kaijuguy lol.

#The Mask Rebirth

17 notes · View notes

pricescigar · 3 years

Text

The enigma that I know

@kretentious inspired me to write this so here you go!

Summary: Through suppressed memories,a stressful night after operation Redlight, Greenlight. Elvira Wolff remembers a familiar face in her nightmares.

Trigger warning: Abuse, Strong language, PTSD

"When you spend so long trapped in darkness, you find that the darkness begins to stare back." -Sarah J. Maas

What is everyone's destiny in their lifetime? Something they all truly to accomplish, what they aspire for, what they want to change about the world. What they want the best for people? This small but big sacrifice, this father had made for his child. Was going to change everything, and it was out of his own true foolishness. This was her true destiny, she had been told this all throughout her childhood. Word by word, her father would say to her countless of times. This was what she was brought up to do. This was her future, and this was the life she had to live in. She had no thought of her own, she had no thought on what she wanted to do, it was the mindset and the ideology. Of what her father wanted for his own doing. And what he couldn't do himself. But truly, this was going to be far much more deeper than anyone had known ever. Being under the wing of Perseus himself, this is the enigma that she knows.

This peculiar man? This is the special and unbreakable enigma that she knows, well it was no other than Perseus. The infamous rouge, charismatic and mysterious Soviet intelligence officer, the ultimate spy master, known and feared by many. The rat that got away, from the cat no other than Russell Adler. This man was determined to catch his life long enemy, it was a game of cat and mouse. And what else of Perseus? He is the eyes, the leader of the international ring of undercover spies. This radical military intelligence officer, saw the dangers and overwhelming weakness of the Soviet Union. And what was his ultimate goal of all? Undermining western power and setting the Soviet Union as the leader of all the world’s nations. However, he can't do it without the one thing by his side. A comrade, someone truly special, someone truly like him to serve by his side to make his goal come true. Elvira Wolff was the chosen one, his right hand.

"If a man with blue eyes, brown hair knocks on that door. You better open that damn door for him, and be respectful to him. I fucking mean it." Her father would advise strength to her, with his familiar strong, abrupt and violent tone towards her. In the familiar house hold of her old home in Berlin, the miserable colours of the living room. And of the grand piano she always played on, the only source of colur and only source to stand out on. The only colour in Elvira's life, the slam of the front door could be heard. As her father left her alone in the house, like he had always done. The ticking of the old grandfather clock, left and right, tick-tok, tick-tok, tick-tok, endlessly. Her emerald green eyes observed the clock with nervousness, the sweat, the anxiety, as the child was simply waiting for this man. That she doesn't even know or even heard of. Her eyes immediately focused over to the door, when she hard three knocks and then a deadly silence that came with it.

Her little hand just barely reaching up, all of her small strength she had in her. Gripping onto the door handle, as the door opened and she opened the door. And there he was, the man with brown hair and blue eyes. Perseus. Both of their eyes immediately met, intensely staring at one and another. Was this the man that father spoke of? She presumed so.

"Oh, Hello Elvira. Are you alone little one? Where is your father? He should be here..." Perseus looked around curiously, there was no signs of her father at all. Nevertheless Elvira let Perseus in the house, now many would say stranger danger. But what was she suppose to do? Disobey her father? God no, that is the last thing she would ever want to do. The poor girl was always afraid of her father, no matter what she did, what she done, what she accomplished. Nothing ever seemed to satisfy him, and violence was always his first answer. And nothing else.

Elvira listened in what he had to say, and she stayed silent momentarily. That was before she finally had the courage, to even speak up to Perseus. To her, he did look a little scary.

"I don't know sir... He always goes out... For a long time, and doesn't come back until later on..." She replied to him, she watched him sit down. He basically made himself at home, part of her would think this isn't his first visit at all. Just don't mess up, she would repeat to herself in her own little bubble of a mind.

Perseus nodded in understandment, he could tell the young child was intimidated by him. A lot in fact. The sheer look of fear on her face, the nerves, the aura of her anxiety around her body. Everything, god what the hell has Diedrich done to her? If she was going to be his future right hand, the most trusted person he could ever rely on. He needed to assure her, by all means he didn't want to hurt her or harm her in any way.

"Don't worry young one, I am not here to hurt you... I'm well, how do I put it simply... A friend. Let me introduce myself, my name is Perseus what is your name?" Perseus asked her. Despite him already knowing her name, he wanted to ease her nerves. And to also show that in some forms, he can still be perfectly harness at times. Despite what the man had already done, he still had the common curtesy of a decent human being.

"My name is Wolff, Elvira Wolff sir." Elvira responded to him, she then gave out her hand to him to shake hands. Perseus noticed that and so, he shook her hand gently before then pulling his hand away. He didn't want to give her a handshake, well because she was a kid after all. He didn't have to worry too much, but he himself was very observant. Well more of the surroundings, and environment as a whole. The wiff of alcohol, cigarette straight up his nostrils.

Perseus tried to brush it all out of his mind, but he couldn't promise anything at hand. Before he focused back to Elvira. The only way to win her trust, or in any child at all. For that matter, but with Elvira? It was different than that. A soon to be comrade, to him but already he wanted what was best for this girl.

"Well. It is a pleasure to meet you Wolff, I have heard many things about you. Your father had mentioned, you have been studying a lot yes?" He then asked her.

"Yes, a lot actually... Everyday... And I always have to make sure I know the topic well, and not to mess up... Especially when it comes to the exams I have to do..." Elvira explained to him. Her father alone was very serious, when it came to studying and exams. Every single question, she had to answer and get it right. If not? Well she would be in serious trouble, that's one of them many bad things that can happen to her.

Strict bastard. Was the only word that came into Perseus mind, he already knew she was going to be a good Comrade to him. However working her like a dog, wasn't exactly ideal for him. He already knew the first moment Diedrich told him about her, a new comrade he thought. But now hearing that she was endlessly working like a normal adult; Or already being treated like one, she's just a kid right? Still deserved her childhood in some way, and all of it was taken away from her. Gone in a flash, just like that no remorse no nothing. The suspicion, was growing more and more within the enigma himself. Despite him being one himself, there was something else he was decoding. Slowly putting all of the pieces together, like a jigsaw puzzle. Think Perseus; Military man, military household, wiff of alcohol and smoke; Coping mechanism of course, leaving a child unattended? At such a young age... Slowly everything was coming to him.

A soft sigh escaped Perseus lip, he honestly did feel bad for the child. He really did, he still had some form of sympathy. Somewhere deep down inside of him, but this was a kid for crying out loud. And this was no way to live your childhood, regardless of the situation at hand. He almost wanted to help.

"Well... I think either way, you are doing well. And I wouldn't care if you got things wrong, the part of making mistakes... You learn from them don't you?" He explained to her. Even if Diedrich's way was completely different to his, by all means Perseus knew what he was doing. He wasn't stupid, with the power that he has. Everything is all knowing to him, and when you have eyes everywhere. You have the whole world of knowledge, in your hands. The will, the power, to do anything you want with that knowledge. And what do you suppose Perseus would wo with it? Well, the one thing he would certainly do. Take down Diedrich Wolff himself, with help of course.

"I have something to give you, and I want you to keep these safe. No matter what ok? A little promise between us, and no one has to know..." Perseus would say to her, his hand went into the pocket of his inner suit jacket.

"Of course sir, I'll keep it safe whatever you want to give me." Elvira promised him, even at her young age. She never broke a promise once, she had always believed these promises meant something deep down. So all promises must be kept either way.

Perseus gotten out a few photos from his suit jacket, and they remained on his hand for a moment. One of the photos showed a monument located on an island. The other showed a base that was there too, along with many mounted anti-aircraft weapons too. He extended his hand to her, with the three photos that were in his hand. His eyes focused back to the young girl.

"Here you go young one. These are yours to keep, this is the place where you'll be with me. And my other comrades, a place to call home... These pictures, will help you get the feel of the place. Before where you'll eventually join me, by my side comrade." Perseus explain to her, a soft smile forming on his face. He was starting to like this child, he wanted the best for her already. And he knew what he had to do, he was beginning to plan everything in the fragment of his mind. Many would say he wanted what was best for this child, this place that was "home" Wasn't exactly a perfect home, nor was it for her to grow up and thrive in. The young girl was in deep danger, anything could happen the moment Perseus would leave that house. Him constantly pondering here would be suspicious, that is why he would send the best of his comrades to come down to Berlin instead of him. And he knew, this was going to work one way or another.

Elvira gently took the photos from him, holding them gently to not ruin the pictures. "Thank you sir, I appreciate it... I'll keep these safe no matter what." She held the photos in her hands, and looked down to them again. The photos did look interesting to her, she was a child after all. She still had the curiosity like every child has, so Elvira would easily keep these three photos safe with her.

"You will be a good Comrade to me little one, I just know it. Together we will crush the capitalists, remember no matter what happens comrade... You better strong and brave as you are, we will meet again soon. In that place right there..." His finger pointed to the photo of the base.

"That's Solovetsky, that's where we'll be." He lastly said to her.

"Always remember that, Solovesky."

#black ops cold war #call of duty #cod cold war #cod #black ops #cold war #call of duty cold war #own characters #perseus #writer #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #Elvira Wolff

23 notes · View notes

passable-talent · 4 years

Note

hi roe, i’d like to request something !! can i request a zuko x reader with a hanahaki AU? the hanahaki can be either reader or zuko, doesn’t matter. if u don’t want to do the hanahaki part that’s fine🥺 thank you ♡

ya boi is back and he brings angst and mild body horror

tw: lots of talk abt veins n blood n arteries and lots of stuff inside the body.

It took root in winter.

Prince Zuko had been a focused man for a long time. His goal in life was singular- he intended not to do a single thing other than capture the avatar. That would let him go home, and that was all he was worried about.

But then he saw you, in the northern water tribe. The second eldest child of the chief, younger sibling to Princess Yue. You didn’t have her striking white hair, but your looks were astounding all the same- and unlike your sister, you were a waterbender.

It was in his duel with Katara in the spiritual oasis that Zuko came across you, protecting the avatar and your sister. Your father, so protective of his children, kept you hidden from many things, including traditional bending training. It didn’t stop you from mastering your craft, though, as you would escape to the cliffs surrounding the city whenever you could, and create your own techniques.

As a result, your waterbending was unlike anything Zuko had ever seen. It wasn’t like water- it didn’t take the shape of waves or streams like that he had seen from Katara. Instead, your bending took the shape of something much more primal, sinister. Like floodwaters, dangerous and sharp and capable of just as much destruction as fire, maybe more. It was with the ferocity with which you protected the avatar that he first witnessed your unique waterbending, which terrified him and stuck in his mind.

In the brief time he saw you, before the siege of the north was over, and as he travelled into the earth kingdom with his uncle, he was fascinated with you. He wished he could know more about you, and understand your bending, your movements so unlike others of your tribe. He wished he could see the way you learned, or practice alongside you, and some part of him that wanted peace in the world could imagine someday you being an ambassador to the Fire Nation on behalf of your sister, the chieftess.

And so wallflower took root in his heart.

He didn’t notice it for months, as it got worse, and worse, as its roots spread throughout his arteries. He didn’t know, couldn’t possibly guess at the reasoning for his phantom pinches in his muscles.

He didn’t see an issue in thinking further of you, and falling deeper in love with the future he had planned for the both of you in his head. He was going to return, someday, and take his father’s throne. He would open up peaceful communications with all of the nations of the world. He would send aid to help in the rebuilding of the Southern Water Tribe to gain the favor of its sister tribe, and you would become a friend. He understood that now, you were in direct line to the title of chief, and so you wouldn’t be an ambassador. But maybe, you could lead your tribe, and he his nation, and the two of you could be together, fostering peace for the world.

He didn’t think much of it when his chest felt tighter, as he assumed that it was just his exercise exhausting him. He couldn’t see the wallflower, its roots spreading down through the bronchus of his lungs, squeezing its way through them. How could he? It was deep beneath his chestplate that the roots spread to his ribs, until its hold was tight, and his every breath came with just a little sting.

Even though he’d heard of the disease, back at his time at the academy, he still didn’t make the connection, and still allowed his love to grow deeper, his wallflower growing larger.

He could imagine a world in which the two of you would come and meet in Ba Sing Se. You’d dine with the Earth King, and the Avatar, and the four of you would set about changing the world together. He could imagine standing from the table and taking your hand, leading you into a separate, private room.

He could picture the way the two of you would clash, water and fire, the passion and intelligence and drive that you would share, but manifest in opposite elements. He dreamt of visiting the North Pole, and wearing traditional chieftan clothing as he stood behind you, and you visiting him in the Fire Nation with traditional fire nation royal robes behind him.

It was spring when he coughed up the first petal.

It didn’t look like a petal, just a slimy lump of something vaguely orange, and so Iroh assumed that he was coming down with a cold. He was on bedrest, just for a few days, which only worsened the issue, as now all he could do was spend his time thinking about you.

He knew it was silly, to be so in love with someone who was on the opposite side of a war, who he’d met only once, but he couldn’t help it. Even as he pulled slimy lumps of orange from the back of his lungs, as every breath stung as though he’d been running for hours, he recalled your sparkling blue eyes, fierce and determined in the moonlight. He remembered how you interacted with the avatar and Katara while he was stuck up in a collumn of ice. He couldn’t help but be in love with you, even after all this time.

He couldn’t help but want to be a part of a future in which he could be with you. It radicalized him, made him want to do one of two things- either regain his throne through pleasing his father, or regain it through overthrowing his father.

He wasn’t sure which, but he thought that circumstances would make one easier than the other, and his sister became that circumstance in Ba Sing Se. She killed the avatar, and Zuko returned home a triumphant prince, heir to the throne, son of Agni. He, in private, voiced his plans to his sister of winning over the rest of the world when the war was over by launching humanitarian campaigns and proving that the Fire Nation was caring, benevolent. She may have laughed, but she saw her own genius in his plans- it would smooth over war-torn scars.

He just wanted to engineer a life with you. Humanitarian ideas made that easier.

On one particular visit to his uncle, he let out a lick of dragon’s breath, and within the plume of flame was a singular floating ember, fluttering and glowing orange until it burned up midair. The sight piqued Iroh’s curiosity, and he asked Zuko to turn around and lower his head.

With the black lines through Zuko’s veins, Iroh finally realized what was happening.

“Hanahaki,” he told Zuko, reaching between the bars to press down on a black line, feeling the hard, thin root of a plant inside of it. The pressure made Zuko flinch. “It’s probably all through your bloodstream. That’s what’s been hurting your chest. It’s what you’ve been coughing up.” As though on que, Zuko broke out in coughs, two slimy orange petals landing on the floor in front of him. He’d long learned not to cough into his hand, lest he had to deal with the slime on his skin.

“Zuko, doesn’t Mai love you?” Iroh asked, withdrawn from his nephew but still concerned for his safety. If the roots had reached the back of his neck, it would likely reach his head soon, and that was when the disease began to threaten life.

“I’m not in love with Mai,” Zuko answered, eyes drawn to the floor.

And he realized that he needed to join the avatar.

When Katara cast him out of the western air temple, it was only the second most painful wound of the day. The first was that you weren’t there- you hadn’t followed the avatar, he didn’t get to see you. And so still he suffered, coughing up more and more petals each day.

He prompted his own coughing fits, hoping that he could get more petals out, and he would still be able to breathe.

His firebending kept it from growing up his throat, but it didn’t stop the spread through his veins. It wasn’t choking the blood from his brain, but it did give him headaches, and sometimes he wondered if it would kill him before the end of the war, let alone when he would meet you again.

He tried to hide it, one afternoon, when from a scrape on his shoulder erupted a flower. It hurt like nothing else he’d ever experienced, but he managed to slice it off with his swords, hoping that his skin would close over it.

Toph sees all, didn’t he know that?

She could see the unusual blotches in his lungs, and she knew what it meant. It clouded her ability to read his heartbeat, but that didn’t matter, because she knew the answer when she asked the question.

“You have Hanahaki?” she said, her greyed eyes wide, looking almost innocent. “Who is it?”

“The next leader of the Northern Water Tribe,” he answered, the slightest of bittersweet smiles on his face, his days of yearning long gone. Now he merely hoped to see your face one more time, because he didn’t believe he had enough time to earn genuine love from you before the roots of his wallflower stopped his heart.

He had enough time, though, to dispose of his sister with the calmness of a dying man. He faced his victory, and his crown as Fire Lord, with a splitting headache, blackness invading the edge of his vision. He knew his heart wasn’t pushing hard enough to move his blood past the roots of his wallflower, his permanently cold fingers were his proof. But the avatar was his friend, now, and brought with him a little bit of pull.

So you, the young future chief of the Northern Water Tribe, attended the coronation of the Fire Lord.

You were dressed in thin but formal water tribe clothing, a deep blue offsetting the tan of your skin, your sleeves long and flowy, hiding in your palm a small tissue.

In the celebration afterward, you approached the new Fire Lord. You excused yourself from your conversations with the other warriors to visit him, in his chambers. He was withdrawn from the festivities, the effort of speaking before the nation too much for his state of health.

Just outside his door, you coughed into your tissue, straightening your back before striding in.

“Coriander,” you said, your first word one that caught him off guard. He didn’t know what you meant.

Sensing his confusion, you sat down beside him on his bed.

“It’s a flower with little white petals. Smaller than your pinky finger. Hence why it took me so long to figure out.” Zuko gazed sideways at you, narrowing his eyes as he puzzled over your meaning. As a royal, he was no stranger to the language of flowers- but why would you be referencing ‘hidden worth’ to him?

“What was yours?” you asked, your expression soft.

“My what?”

“Your flower. Aang said you had come down with Hanahaki, like me.” Zuko’s eyes widened, and he raised his chin.

“You- you had- too?” Your expression got softer, and you tilted your head with even more kindness in your eyes.

“Imagine how angry I was at myself, considering the circumstances we met in.” A smile broke out across Zuko’s face, but his sharp intake of breath caused him to fall into a fit of hacking. Gently you rubbed his back.

“It gets better in a few weeks,” you promised him, speaking from your own experience, as the voyage to the Fire Nation capital had been your detox. The letter from the avatar had explained everything, and let you heal before you even saw the Fire Lord.

“Wallflower,” answered Zuko, pulling himself from his coughs, “an orange flower.” Only now did he consider the meaning of such a flower- faithfulness in adversity. Did the flowers truly have some sort of meaning in their relationship, to the nations, to the world?

It didn’t matter, really. Zuko was happy to watch the roots recede from his veins, and cough out the last of the petals. He was happy to have you by his side, through it all, turning over a new chapter of the world’s history.

Orange and white- a combination the world hadn’t seen much of, before the story of the chief and fire lord spread. But wallflower and coriander, soon, became the symbol for love in all of the nations.

-🦌 Roe

244 notes · View notes

ninjakasuga · 3 years

Text

Sonally Celebration Week, Year 3, Day Three!

Day three is here, and as usual, I tend to go for my flair with thematic tones over the literal idea of the prompt. Everyone else enjoying what @gojira007 and their blog @boundforfreedomsonsal brings will find this to their pleasure.

Sonally Celebration Week, Year Three: Day Three

Foreward: This episode takes place mere months after Mystery. I know last year sometimes I hoped about the time-line a bit, while with at least episode one-through-three I’m keeping it rather linear in the story-telling. Last time we saw Sonic and Sally as babysitters to Sonic’s younger siblings; now their own time has parents twas’ nigh.

Day three: Crossroads

“Sonic Maurice Hedgehog, I love you, I love you with all my heart and soul, but-nrghh!” Grimacing, Sally Acorn-Hedgehog panted heavily as another contraction wracked her body. Her grip on the hand of her husband tightened. “But I swear, I SWEAR if you do this to me again, I-will-EAT-YOUR-SHINS!!”

Making a soft, but audible sound of physical distress, Sonic swore he felt the bones in his hand crunch. Yet he did not dare wretch it free, not that he felt he could if he wanted too. Sally’s grip was intense, and furthermore, any attempt to save his own skin would be met with death. As sweat trickled down his brow, making the mask attached to his face, and the scrubs he wore a bit uncomfortable. Yet his own discomfort was his least priority at the moment. “Y-you got it Sal, j-just hang in there a bit more…”

Sally’s eyebrow raised incredulously. “Hang in th-nrgh, t-there?! Oh my dear husband, you just did-urghhh! N-not tell me to hang in there? Just what the f**k do you think I’m doing?! I’ve been ‘hanging in there’ since my water broke and the contractions kicked in, and those two little darlings ‘you’ put in my belly can’t decide if they want to come out now, or kick Mommy’s bladder some more!”

“H-hey I’m just trying to help!’ He pleaded as she clutched his hand tighter than before. “I know this isn’t easy on you Sal, but it’s not like I can whip out a Power Ring or Chaos Emerald and make it better. If I could-ghhh, take your place I would!” Sonic knew this was in no-way easy, but in the span of a few hours he’d seen Sally run the gauntlet of her emotional range. Mostly all centered at being upset with him. Now he understood what his Dad meant by ‘Nothing will prepare either of you for this; but remember, Sally’s going to be put through a wringer, so be patient, and be understanding’. “Sal, please you need to calm down some, it’s not good for you, or the babies right Doc?”

The ‘Doc’ in question lifted her head from her position between the Queen’s legs. After almost twenty-plus years of service, Doctor Quack had retired from medicine but remained a consultant for the Acorn Kingdom Ministry of Medicine. So the new Royal Doctor, one Jolene Fredrick, and one of Quack’s protoge’s was tending to the birth of Sally and Sonic’s children. The spotted-Hyena doctor managed a bemused smile behind her surgical mask. “Your husband is quite right, your majesty, I know it hurts, but the more you let the pain stress you out, the more it will complicate things.” She spoke evenly, softly, and kindly but with a firm authority a doctor should carry. “I know giving birth to twins is not easy, especially for a first-time pregnancy, but despite the pain, it looks like the babies are finally about ready to come out.”

A part of Sally wanted to scream and kindly (or not so kindly) tell Jolene to jump out the window, or anyone else asking her to ‘bear with it more’. After all the hours she already had dealt with the discomfort, and false alarms, up until the pains really started to kick in over the last hour and a half. Yet Sally held back that urge, both from her brain managing to get through the pain and reminding her, Jolene was trying to help. Plus as a Mother herself, she’d had first-hand experience with what she was going through. The other reason she pushed her anger down was the soft touch of Sonic’s hand that wasn’t currently in the vice grip she was placing on the other. A quick glance into those emerald-pools, seeing concern and love, did much to soften her.

A small whimper left Sally as she eased her grip and held Sonic’s hand to her face. “I’m sorry, it just huuuurts.” She whined softly, feeling utterly pathetic she was reduced to such a state. Her composure was thrown out the window, cursing freely, and just, the sheer roller coaster of hormones and emotions over the last several hours had taken a toll. “I want my babies, but-rugh, I want them out, nooooow!”

“I know Sal, I know.” Sonic murmured, wincing at the defeated, pained sounds coming from the love of his life. Bringing her hand to his face, he did his best to kiss the top of her hand through his surgical mask. “I’m with you, however long this takes you got me at your side.”

A small, strangled laugh left Sally as she managed a warm smile as she gazed at her husband. “How’d I get so lucky? Some people take forever to find their soulmate and I met mine at two years old.” Letting out a dreamy sigh, Sally pulled his hand to her and planted a kiss there, with both her hands (gently) cocooning both of her hands over his. Just as quick as the quiet moment came, it was taken away as Sally let out another sharp gasp. “Oooooooff!! I felt that one!”

Eyeing some equipment next to her, Jolene made a ‘hmm’ and then turned to look over at the couple. “Good news, it looks like the babies are finally making up their minds, one is starting to make way. Take deep breaths, your majesty, just like you practiced, we’re almost at the end goal.” She smiled through her mask, her own mild fatigue visible in her eyes. Yet like her predecessor there was a fire to see things through. “You can do this your Maj-.” “J-just Sally please!” Insisted the mother-to-be as she gripped the edge of her bed rails with one of her hands, as the other still clutched onto Sonic. “T-this is too personal to keep using formal titles. Nrgh, j-just for now, please, no titles.”

A part of the doctor felt awkward at putting the habit of being so informal, but if it would help. “Alright Sally, we’re in the final stretch, deep breathes. We’ll see the crowning any moment now.”

Nodding, Sally looked to Sonic, wincing and breathing deeply as she was taught. “I love you.” “Back at’cha Sal, you got this.” Sonic fought back a wince from his extremely sore hand. Focusing more on giving Sally his support. “Back at’cha, now let’s welcome our kids and you get some rest.”

Some Time Later:

Exhausted deeply in body and soul, Sally could feel all this in the back of her mind; yet her focus was on anything but the fatigue. A warm, happy, glowing feeling replaced the fatigue as she stared at the two swaddled bundles in her arms. “They’re beautiful…” She cried, happily as she stared at the mewling infants. Who seemed to instinctively lean against her body through their swaddling. It had been worth it, the long labor, the pain, all-worth-it. The girl of the twin-set was a chipmunk-ish hybrid like Sally but clearly sported her Father’s blue hues in her fur. The boy, clearly of the hedgehog variety had the more soft browns of his Mother. Time would tell if Sally’s red hair, or the blonde or brown hair from Sonic’s side of the family would pop up.

As she glanced over at Sonic, she was nearly bowled over by the sheer awe in his eyes and face (his surgical mask was off). His eyes were misty, making her wonder if she was looking at a mirror of her own expression. “You just love in love don’t you?”

“Totally.” Sonic nodded, a strangled laugh leaving him as she leaned in, getting eyefuls of the two joys the two had both patiently and impatiently waited for all this time. It had been a long road to parenthood, both held off having kids right away due to many reasons after the war. The rebuilding efforts, just enjoying themselves free of fighting, and other small, miscellaneous reasons. Last year they finally felt ready and well, started working on getting Sally pregnant, which didn’t take long with how they were.

Sonic wondered if this surge of pride and absolute happiness was something both his parents felt when either his siblings and he had been born? The sheer high of it almost-no, no it absolutely did dwarf the high of running free in the wind. Gently he reached a hand down, running a finger along one child’s cheek, then the other. “Hey you two, glad to finally meet’cha. I’m Daddy, this is Mommy, and we’re going to love and look after you until the end of time.”

Nodding her head eagerly in agreement, Sally sniffed back more tears of joy. “Forever and ever, all ours.” She giggled, kissing the soft, furry cheeks of her newborns. “Welcome to the world Kathleen and Jaleel-Craig.

“I still think Justin-McCooiagel sounded pretty good.” Quipped Sonic with a smug, joking smirk.

“I will not let our son be mercilessly teased because his Father wanted to give him a ‘cool nickname like ‘Just Cool’ or whatever string of odd nicknames.” She firmly stated, giving Sonic a dull stare. “Seriously, one of your names was Radical. Just Radical.”

“Hey it’s a good gender-neutral name, and we knew we were having twins.” His wide grin, showcased he enjoyed pulling her chain. He mostly had been joking about the aforementioned names, well mostly. The ones they settled on were perfect. Kathleen Nicole Acorn-Hedgehog was named after Sally’s Grandmother that she sadly never got to know, and her middle name was in honor of a certain BFF of the Queen’s. Jaleel-Craig Acorn-Hedgehog, or J.C. for short, got his name from Sonic learning Jaleel had been one of ‘his’ potential birth names. Seems his Father knew a Jaleel from school who had been his best friend until he died in the war, and had considered giving him his name in remembrance, only to decide Bernie’s idea of Sonic seemed fitting. Both Sonic and Sally thought it would be a nice name, and as for the Craig addition, Sonic just liked the name, and felt a two-word name would be great for one of the kids. His desire won out after he won three out of five rock-paper-scissors matches with Sally for the final say-so.

“Sure it is…” Rolling her eyes Sally reached over and ran her hand, playfully over Sonic’s face. “You’re just lucky you are adorable.”

“Ha! Adorable wished it were me.” Murred Sonic as he nuzzled against her hand. “Although my wife and lovely children are top-tier competition.”

Snorting, Sally then yawned loudly. “Oh my, I-I *yawn*, damn it, I don’t wanna sleep…”

The door to the suite opened and Doctor Jolene stuck her head in. Having overhard the yawn, she gave the couple a knowing smile. “You should get your rest while you can. The kiddos will be tuckered out themselves, and the nurses will watch them overnight. Trust me you will want as much sleep as you can before they want to feed.” Given it was between two and three o’clock, the Royal Family didn’t have any visitors waiting on them until much later in the day to worry about.

As another yawn tore from her throat, Sally nodded in acceptance. She then poked at her own chest, semi-covered by her hospital gown. “Finally these udders will get some use. The swelling of the milk is getting annoying.”

A dirty joke formed in Sonic’s head, but he wisely (this time) fought off voicing it. A low, tired, yawn left him as well. “Snooze n’ Zzz’s sound about right Doc. Plus there’s that saying, we should get as much as we can?”

“As one parent to another, ooooh yes!” Laughed Jolene as she walked over to give the Mother and children a once over as a nurse came over with a rolling cart with two portable baby-carrier cribs for the infants to sleep in. “That should be your priority as much as looking after J.C. and Kathleen now, making sure you’re rested so you can look after them.” She then gives her Queen a playful-if-stern look. “Which means our dear Queen needs to knock off the all-nighter paper-work and project binges.”

Unable to not but wince at the accusation, Sally sighed in defeat. She knew her bad habit was one not to be ignored at this juncture in life. “I’ve already delegated my tasks to Nicole and the Council, and all necessary parties…”

“After taking weeks to painstakingly do so…” Her husband quipped with a mirroring playful-but-stern with a dash of accusatory as Doctor Jolene.

Sally sent Sonic a glare, but fatigue and looking upon the faces of her children made the frown go away. “I know what my priorities are… I know that I'm going to need to get back to running the kingdom but I’m not going to ever put these two what I meant through. I will find the balance.”

Rubbing her shoulder, Sonic leaned in, planting a kiss to her cheek. “N’ you got me to help, we’re doing this as a team forever, and always.”

“Always.” She agreed, craning her head to kiss him back. Another yawn left her as the nurse gently took the snoozing children. Her gaze followed them as they were carefully put in the sleeping cribs. “See you soon my loves’.” She murmured, eyes beginning to feel heavier as she watched them be wheeled out. “Love you Sonic…” She murmured feeling him tuck her in as her eyes closed.

“Love you too Sal, I’ll be right here.” He murmured, waiting until he was sure she was dozed off. Leaning back from her bed, he popped his back and shook his hands. One was extremely sore but thankfully not damaged. “I’m gonna get some water, and then I’m gonna crash myself Doc.”

“I have a rollaway being brought in for you.” She nodded, giving one last check over of Sally’s vitals, and pleased with what she saw, intended to conclude her rounds and get some shuteye herself. “Sleep well Prince-er Sonic.” She corrected as the Prince-Regent gave her a tired but mild glare. “Sorry, force of habit.” “S’okay Doc… Just titles n’ crap ain’t me, but I married a Princess who’s now Queen so… eh if you gotta for decorum n’ crude sure. Like this… Sonic is fine.” He grinned, giving a two finger salute before padding out of the suite. Water was his priority, his throat was dry, and then, bed. Sweet, sweet bedtime. If the way twins seemed to behave in the family held up, Sally and he would need to be on their toes sooner than later.

A new crossroad of life at been reached, and they were committed to what the future may hold for them and their family.

#boundforfreedom #Sonic the Hedgehog #Sally Acorn #Archie-Sonic #Birth #OC's #childbirth

11 notes · View notes

eretzyisrael · 3 years

Text

Almost a Government

Tonight (Wednesday) at midnight is the deadline for Yair Lapid to tell Israel’s president that he has formed a government. Negotiations between the eightparties – including Ra’am, an Arab Islamist party – that will be part of the almost wall-to-wall coalition are still taking place as I write this, so everything I say is subject to change. The coalition, if it comes to be, will be led by Naftali Bennett and Lapid, who will each be Prime Minister for two years, starting with Bennett.

So who will not be in the coalition? The single largest party, Binyamin Netanyahu’s Likud, of course, two Haredi parties that have cast their lot with him, and Betzalel Smotrich’s Religious Zionism party. If this coalition comes about as planned, it will be the first time in the history of Israel that there hasn’t been at least one explicitly religious (Jewish) party in the government, and one of the few times without a Haredi party. There will, however, be a fundamentalist Muslim party! And Mansour Abbas’ Ra’am party has already demanded that the government make no commitment in its platform to reforms favoring the LGBT community.

At first the idea was that Ra’am would not be a member of the coalition, but would vote for it from outside, so that it would have the 61 mandates necessary to come into existence. But at some point it was decided that it would be part of the coalition, although without any ministerial portfolios. This too would be a first in Israel’s history.

The idea of an Arab party as part of the government is not in itself a radical one. Arabs are 20% of Israel’s population, and have legitimate concerns, in particular about the allocation of resources to Arab towns and cities. But until now no coalition has included them – and no Arab party has wanted to be included – because of a fundamental disagreement between all the Arab parties and most of the Jewish ones over the question of whether Israel should be in some sense a “Jewish state.” Positions of the Arab parties range from the view that Israel should be a “state of all its citizens” to explicit Palestinian or pan-Arab nationalism. Yes, you read that right.

Indeed, if the conditions in Israel’s Basic Law for the Knesset were strictly applied, no Arab party could sit in the Knesset. The law excludes any party or person whose “goals or actions … expressly or by implication, include … negation of the existence of the State of Israel as a Jewish and democratic state.” But Israel’s Supreme Court has always interpreted the requirement very liberally, at least when applied to the Arab members of the Knesset. On several occasions the Court has overruled the decision of the Central Elections Committee of the Knesset to bar an Arab candidate from running, as occurred in 2013 and 2015 to the Balad Party’s candidate, Haneen Zoabi.

Ra’am is ideologically aligned with the Muslim Brotherhood, (!) the parent organization of Hamas, but Mansour Abbas insists that his goals as a member of the government are only to influence practical issues affecting the Arab community, like the out-of-control crime rate in Arab towns and investment in infrastructure.

Coming immediately after a short but painful war with Hamas, and more importantly, after anti-Jewish riots by Arab citizens of Israel in which synagogues and Jewish homes were burned, the decision to include an Arab party in the government was met by many with shock and anger. Indeed, after the news of the riots broke, I concluded that even the idea of forming a government with outside support from an Arab party was dead.

But apparently the driving forces of the unity coalition, Naftali Bennett and Yair Lapid, believe that the need to form a government and avoid a fifth election in a bit more than two years is paramount.

Despite the large number of parties that run in Israeli elections and the fact that no party has ever gotten a majority by itself, there is usually a clear-cut contest between right-wing and left-wing blocs. Whichever bloc wins the most mandates then forms a coalition with other bloc members. But in the last few elections the split has been between pro- and anti-Netanyahu parties. The pro-Netanyahu parties could not obtain the required 61 mandates; but the anti-Netanyahu forces encompass such a wide ideological range that it has been impossible for them to form a coalition of 61 either. And that is why we have had four elections in two years.

And that is also why we have a situation in which, despite the fact that a solid majority of Israelis vote for right-wing parties – some 70 or 80 mandates worth – we can’t get a right-wing government. And why it appears that we are going to get a coalition that includes on the one hand the far-left Meretz party, the Arab Islamist Ra’am, the Labor Party, what’s left of Benny Gantz’ Kahol-Lavan, and Yair Lapid’s center-left Yesh Atid; and on the other, Avigdor Lieberman’s anti-Arab Israel Beiteinu party, as well as Gideon Sa’ar’s Tikvah Hadasha and Naftali Bennett’s Yamina, both solidly on the right of Netanyahu.

There is a great deal of anger at Naftali Bennett from right-wingers, both those that voted for Netanyahu and blame Bennett for Netanyahu’s failure to get 61 mandates, and those who voted for Bennett but think he is at best a fraud and at worst a traitor for choosing to give his seven mandates to the anti-Netanyahu side. The Shabak (internal security service) thinks that the threats against Bennett and Ayelet Shaked, also on the Yamina list, are serious enough to merit a 24-7 bodyguard.

Bennett has justified breaking his earlier commitments to not sit in a government with Lapid or to even depend on support from an Islamist party by insisting that there was no way that a government led by Netanyahu could get the needed 61. The alternative, he said, is a fifth election, which would be a disaster for the country. Netanyahu has said that if Bennett had fully committed to joining him rather than remaining on the fence, there could have been a right-wing government. I personally believe that Bennett is right: he did explore every possibility to squeeze out a few more mandates for a right-wing coalition before going to Lapid.

I also think Bennett is right about the consequences of a fifth election, which would entail several months of a paralyzed caretaker government, followed by yet another period of chaos as the parties try again to form a coalition. And there is no guarantee that the results would be more decisive than it was the last four times. The country is facing some very serious security issues today – the unrest among Israeli Arabs (which was incited by Hamas), the unfinished business with Hamas itself, the Iranian nuclear program, and – affecting all of the above – the pro-Iranian and pro-Palestinian polices of the Biden Administration. There is also a major unknown, which is the policy of China in a Middle East where American influence is waning. And of course there is the economic fallout of the Covid epidemic, and the continued need for vigilance against mutations of the virus. I could go on, and on.

We need a government and we need one now. It will definitely not be the one anyone hoped for, either on the Right or the Left, but the present instability is unacceptable. There is a good chance that the differences between the partners in the coalition are too great, and it will splinter, resulting in another election anyway. But if it does work, even for a year or two, it could be a path back to political stability.

Update [3 Jun 2021 12:06 IDT]

A few minutes before the deadline, Yair Lapid went to the President with a coalition in hand! Now we will see if it holds up for the two weeks until the official swearing in.

Abu Yehuda

#Israeli Arabs #Israel Politics

11 notes · View notes

oss-crime · 3 years

Text

Chapter 3-Project “Ma” –Adam–; Scene 11

Original Sin Story: Crime, pages 134-138

Seth had once been Miroku’s servant, and the culprit behind sending a baby Adam afloat on the river.

This journal has it written that there were twins…

What had happened to the other child?

The odds of them still being alive were…slim.

It was close to miraculous that Adam had managed to survive as he did.

He would need to punish Seth as well.

He’d already obtained the method to construct Venom.

His business with him was concluded.

--They had to keep searching for the “Mother of Gods” that would be necessary to make Project “Ma” a reality.

The information bureau found a candidate.

The Witch of Merrigod, Meta Salmhofer…

“Not her.”

They were in a room of the institute.

Gammon made his refusal with a scowl after seeing her name on the intelligence report.

“An acquaintance of yours?”

Gammon slowly shook his head at Adam’s question. “We’ve never met. But she…is a member of ‘Apocalypse’.”

“Apocalypse…That’s the name of that band of thieves based out on Merrigod Plateau, as I recall.”

“It’s not as simple as that.” Gammon opened up a drawer from the nearby desk and pulled out the list that Horus had left behind. “This name written here…Raiou Zvezda. He’s the founder of Apocalypse.”

“So you mean…This organization is connected to my father.”

“It used to be. But now it’s changed into a different organization, same in name only. Their goal…is to overturn the country through destruction.”

“Not a peaceful crew, then.”

“I’ve never met Raiou. I’ve only heard his name from Sir Horus…Apparently he turned his back on Apocalypse as it started to degrade, and fled the organization. Sir Horus told me that he’d also cut ties with Apocalypse.”

Gammon claimed that he himself had never been involved with them.

“That list of names is no more than a record of Sir Horus’ personal acquaintances. He’s made contact with people in every region who harbor anti-government sentiment.”

“I see…But isn’t the existence of the organization itself rather inconvenient for you as well?”

“That’s, well…yeah.”

It wasn’t particularly well-established, but there was a slight chance that Apocalypse could serve as a starting point for shedding light on Horus’ anti-government network.

And Gammon likely wished to quickly crush this radical organization with policies so different from his own, besides.

“Anyway, it would be entirely unreasonable to make this woman the ‘Ma’…It’s said that Meta is Pale’s lover, in the first place. She’s hardly likely to be a virgin.”

“Hmph…”

“Those assholes at the information bureau. Why would they put such a woman down on the list…?”

“Well, this is from after Ace went missing. Perhaps the information quality has gone down.”

“…Maybe.”

“But it couldn’t hurt to go meet with her, at least? If we don’t come up with some results soon, the senate’s likely to grow impatient with us.”

“No. It could devolve into a fight. Surely even you wouldn’t want to see the other researchers pointlessly sacrificed?”

“Sacrificed, huh…”

There, Seth’s face came to Adam’s mind.

An unfortunate fight breaking out during an inquiry. And a researcher getting caught up in it and dying…

He thought to himself that he wouldn’t mind such a scenario.

--In the end, Adam’s plan had ended in complete failure.

As predicted, the researchers who had headed out for the inquiry were caught up in the battle between Apocalypse and the peacekeeping forces.

But he’d been certain that Seth would be the only casualty of that.

He would be made to wait at point A, away from the other researchers; they’d lead Apocalypse over there, and have them attack it--

It should have been foolproof.

But when it came down to it, waiting at point A when Apocalypse attacked…were all the other researchers excluding Seth.

How had that happened?

Had it just occurred through sheer unfortunate chance, or—

Maybe Seth caught on to my plan…

Seth hadn’t said anything about it himself.

Rather, he’d made some encouraging speech about how “the two of us will just have to work hard from here on out!”

When it came to what he was thinking…Adam couldn’t tell in the least.

<<prev------directory------next>>

23 notes · View notes

akasgisrightsactivist · 3 years

Text

Fashionably Late

[Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader] [Word count: 1k]

A/n: Happy birthday, Edvi! @edvigelacivetta I hope you have a wonderful birthday and you get lots of presents! Unfortunately I can’t send you a real Kuroo, but I hope you like this little fic!

To outside eyes, your birthday party looked like the ideal celebration that anyone would wish for.

Your friends had prepared a surprise party for your birthday, putting up colorful decoration at one of your friend’s house and buying presents for you while doing all sorts of tricks so you wouldn’t find out. When the day finally arrived, you hung out with your group of friends like you’d usually do, ending up at your friend’s house “just to watch a movie”.

When you crossed the entrance door, finding the house in complete darkness, you spent a couple of seconds wondering what was going on until your friends suddenly turned on the lights, throwing confetti over you, and you screamed in delight. In the middle of the living room, there was a big table covered in a variety of tasty-looking food, and you could spot the presents waiting over the couch.

And yet, he was missing.

Kuroo. The handsome man you had met a couple of months ago and who had stolen your heart.

You had expected him to be around, hoping that your friends would invite him too —after all, they had been the ones to introduce him to you. During the first week after meeting Kuroo, you had gone from exchanging a few polite words with him to texting him every day, and you always thought how funny it was that life could change so radically in such a short time.

But aside from wishing you a happy birthday via text that morning, you hadn’t heard from Kuroo again throughout the day, and you felt a knot in your stomach after looking around every corner of the house and not finding him.

You shook your head and told yourself you had to be grateful for your friends’ effort to prepare this party for you. Pouring yourself a glass of wine, you got ready to dance the night away.

About four hours later, a couple of friends left the party. You thanked them and wished them a safe way back home, forcing a smile on your face.

You were strangely tired. Maybe it was the alcohol? Maybe you had danced too much already?

Or maybe it was the heartache that wouldn’t vanish no matter how much you tried to shake it away from your body and mind.

The rest of your friends were busy watching funny videos and you excused yourself for a moment, claiming that you were going to the toilet. Instead, you climbed up the stairs of the house —you know your friend’s house like the palm of your hand and you headed for the balcony at the top floor.

Even if the night was chill, you always enjoyed the view of the stars from your friend’s balcony. Taking a blanket you found nearby and wrapping it around your shoulders, you leaned against the railing to count the stars, visually following the shapes of the constellations that peppered the navy blue night.

It reminded you of a conversation you once had with Kuroo about stargazing. He had rambled about the endless possibilities that lay ahead in the universe, and how the stars were a distant goal that pushed humanity further in the quest for knowledge.

A sound of steps going up the stairs brought you back to reality, and you curled up under the blanket. Perhaps one of your friends was looking for you, as you were taking too long to return from your trip to the toilet.

But when the balcony door opened, you found an unexpected visitor.

A tall man with messy black hair, a black leather jacket, and a grin on his face.

“Ah, there you are. I saw someone on the balcony from below as I parked, and you were nowhere to be found.”

“Kuroo,” you muttered.

He walked up to you, finding a spot next to you on the railing.

“Happy birthday, y/n. I hope your wishes come true in this upcoming year.”

You laughed through your nose, fingers curling around your empty glass of wine.

“I hope so too.” You took a deep breath. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“I’m always fashionably late,” he replied with a hearty laugh. Lowering his voice, in a more serious tone he added: “I had to work until late. I couldn’t wait for the moment I could come here. For a second I thought I wouldn’t make it.”

His sincerity warmed your heart, the worry that had weighed you down in the last hours vanishing as your entire body relaxed into a smile.

“Thank you for coming,” you whispered.

“No problem. I even brought a present.”

Kuroo fished for a small gift that was hiding inside his coat pocket and handed it over to you. It was a tiny box and you unwrapped the beautiful red paper with careful fingers, revealing a black case.

As you opened it, you couldn’t hold back a gasp.

“Oh no, you didn’t,” you said, eyes widening. “Kuroo, this is…”

A beautiful silver pendant shaped like a drop of water waited inside the box, shining under the starlight. You sought his gaze, finding a pair of pleased dark eyes.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it,” you replied, taking the pendant out and admiring it. “This can’t be cheap, you didn’t have to…”

“As long as you like it, it’s all good,” he chuckled. “May I?”

He took the pendant and placed it around your neck, his warm fingers grazing your skin. You shivered under his touch.

“Beautiful. Fit for a gorgeous lady like you,” he said as you turned around, feeling the weight of the jewel over your clavicle.

His words made you blush and you babbled, unable to form a coherent sentence, which he found hilarious. You playfully punched his arm and he teased you again, finding your shyness adorable.

It was when you faked a punch again that he slid his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. The chilly air of the night disappeared as you felt the comforting warmth of his body against yours.

Kuroo raised his free hand, cupping your chin, his thumb rubbing your skin gently as he leaned forwards.

“May I…?” He mumbled.

You nodded, closing your eyes as he narrowed the distance, lips grazing yours gently, sharing the sweet taste of wine.

“Happy birthday.”

#kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu x reader

26 notes · View notes

danger-xylophones · 4 years

Text

Allegiance (Darth Maul x reader)

{Masterlist}

Good evening/day, I’m here to present another fic no one asked for but I’m writing anyway.

Story summary: Underworld’s a small place and word travels quick, especially when there’s talk of a man taking it over singlehandedly

Notes: female pronouns (I’m sorry, but I struggle when I don’t use them)

Warnings: a hasty relationship and a bit of sexual tension because I am unabashedly a Maul fucker

Words: 2209 (wops)

………………………………….

“So, you’re the man that’s causing all the fuss?” Her silky words were light, teasing as they danced over Maul’s ears upon his entrance into the grand hall. Guards stood on either side of him and his brother, stun batons at the ready. She had but to give the word and a fight would break out. Maul’s gaze remained trained on her from where she sat at the head of the long table, advisors and clients were seated as well, all in the middle of dinner and all were focused on Maul, Savage, and the Death Watch.

“Forgive us, Great Eye, we told him that you were busy but these nuisances would not be swayed.” The blue twi’lek guard on Maul’s left growled, pressing the baton closer to Maul. The zabrak barely even acknowledged the female guard though his brother did growl at her. The guard bared her teeth in response, lekkus twitching in agitation. Her companion, a besalisk male, remained silent.

The Great Eye said nothing but carefully looked between her two guards, e/c eyes that glittered in the warm lighting of the room focused. “Stand down, Zenay, you are being impolite.” The woman waved her hand dismissively and the besalisk guard backed off, the twi’lek hesitated a moment but eventually complied with her leader’s orders. The Great Eye’s gaze briefly swept over the Death Watch members, and Savage before finally settling on Maul. She met the sith’s gaze evenly and raised one eyebrow as she questioned him, specifically. “Why do you intrude on my meeting?” Her tone was soft in delivery but Maul could hear, no feel the power she wielded. If he were a common man unable to offer a good reason, she could kill him in the blink of an eye with nothing more than a small gesture. Unluckily for her, he was no commoner.

“Great Eye of the Hidden Gaze coven,” Pre Vizsla began, stepping in front of Maul. The Great Eye was forced to look away from the zabrak but Maul still found himself watching her intently. “I am Pre Vizsla, leader of-”

“I know who you are, Vizsla.” The Great Eye cut the arrogant man off sharply, gentle voice somehow booming around the room which caused her currently seated guests to flinch. An interesting reaction, Maul noted. That tone meant something to them. “And I know what you want from me.” Maul’s eye ridge raised in intrigue. “And I will tell you now that I do not parley with radical idealists such as yourself and the Death Watch. However,” The Great Eye continued, tenting her fingers under her chin as her e/c hued eyes slid over to Maul once more, “I will speak with the Sith.” If at first, the Great Eye had his intrigue then now she had his attention. Ever since his exile, it appeared that no one besides the Jedi and his brother recognized who he was. Pre Vizsla was visibly stunned though he was swift to play it off, casting a curious look at the crimson zabrak who quietly waved him away. As the last Death Watch member disappeared, the Great Eye clapped her hands suddenly which made the advisors and clients flinch as well as some of the servants posted around the room. “You are all dismissed, the rest of your dinners will be delivered to your rooms. Ito, Garth,” having her servants’ attention, she gestured towards Savage and Maul, “fetch them a drink.” The human and togruta men ran off immediately as the advisors filed out. Maul took a seat at the opposite end of the table. Savage took the seat to his right.

“So, you know who I am?” Maul began sternly, mimicking the Great Eye’s posture by tenting his hands under his chin and propping his elbows up. The male togruta, yellow in color set a drink before him (some kind of red wine going by the scent) while the human man set another in front of Savage who growled at the man when he accidentally brushed his arm. The Great Eye watched them curiously.

“Indeed. I consider myself a smart woman, Darth Maul, and I find it pays to know who you’re dealing with. Which is why I am very curious about your companion here.” She spoke calmly, lifting a drink of her own to her lips which were stained rich mahogany. Her gaze flickered to Savage.

The yellow zabrak met it swiftly, crossing his arms. However, Maul was the one to speak. “This is Savage. My apprentice.”

That caught The Great Eye’s attention for she sat her cup down and dabbed at her lips. “Apprentice? So, Count Dooku is not the second sith?”

“Count Dooku is a pretender!” Maul snapped, cutting her off and intriguing her further. “We are the true lords of the Sith.” Maul’s voice echoed unnaturally in the large room and the air grew thick enough that if anyone else were to enter, they would likely suffocate.

She laughed. The Great Eye began to laugh, and it graced his ears like a pleasant bell. Maul loathed admitting that he found it quite pleasant to listen to. “It is good to see that your reputation was not built on falsehoods, Lord Maul.” She smiled wide, canines poking out ever so slightly and her eyes sparkled as if she had been let in on a great secret. “I am Y/n L/n, The Great Eye of the Hidden Gaze.” She stood from her throne, slow and regal and bowed to him, right hand coming up over her bosom as her left came to cover her eyes. When she rose again, with deep blue silk robes fluttering just enough for Maul to spot the outline of her body, she met Maul’s eyes brazenly and tossed her arms out. “And welcome to my home, Lord Maul and Apprentice Savage.” She settled in her seat once more.

“Thank you, Great Eye.” Maul hummed, chewing over her greeting. “You stated that you knew why I was here, so, I take it you will join us?”

Y/n’s lip twitched. “Lord Maul, I will confess that we have a slight issue with that. While I recognize the wisdom in joining you, I must ask you a few questions.” This woman was bold, Maul would give her that.

“And what would they be, Lady L/n?” Maul questioned, carefully sipping the wine that had been brought before him. It was rich and smooth and more on the bitter side than what he was used to but still pleasant to idly sip. For a moment he wondered if the wine was to blame for Y/n’s stained lips.

“The first is simple, what is to become of my people when you take over?” Y/n’s e/c eyes burned into Maul’s soul, scorching everything as they went.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.” Maul was testing her and he could tell that she knew.

“Will they serve as they serve me now but work for you instead or will they be put to work elsewhere?” The woman elaborated fluidly, finger running around the rim of her cup absently. Maul couldn’t help but follow the motion, transfixed on her black-painted nails.

Maul found himself compelled to answer. “They will serve you but you will answer to me, Y/n. So, in a way, the former.” She hummed, mulling the answer over. “You had another question?”

“Yes, does Pre Vizsla serve you?” Y/n didn’t bother to look at Maul as she spoke before she tossed her head back and downed her wine in one gulp. The togruta male from earlier was immediately ready to refill her cup.

“We are allies, for now. He controls the Death Watch and the Death Watch alone, the underworld factions are mine.” Another hum was the zabrak’s reply. “Anything else, Great Eye?”

“What is your goal?”

“What do you think it is?”

Y/n smiled imperceptibly and Maul was curious to know what had her so keen. “To take over, of course. To achieve the manifesto of the Sith and to control the galaxy by destroying the Republic bit by bit and taking down the Jedi.” Maul’s chin lifted upon hearing the way Y/n spoke of the Jedi and the Republic, such disdain, such malice. He wondered what the history was. “Am I correct, Lord Maul?”

He chuckled and leaned back in his seat. “More than you realize, Great Eye.”

She grinned, chin raised, canines poking out just slightly and e/c eyes ablaze. “Then I will gladly bend my knee to your vision. However,” Y/n’s mirth faded as she sobered up, face growing stern so quickly that Maul was rather impressed by how much control she had over the innumerable muscles beneath her supple s/c skin, “My advisors I not so keen. We knew we would be dealing with a powerful force the second word got out that the Black Suns had been taken over and I am afraid they have already reached a decision.” She twitched an eyebrow in emphasis, Maul leaned forward. Before she said anymore, Y/n clapped her hands twice and flourished her left hand. The servants fled the room with bowed heads as the guards marched out in two single-file lines. A deafening slam resounded from the door the all left in which meant that the Great Eye was alone, completely at Maul’s and Savage’s mercy. Before the silence that followed suit could stretch for too long, she resumed speaking. “As you could infer, they have either decided to oppose you or remain neutral.” Maul felt a grimace begin to form on his face. He would hate to kill her now because of her advisors’ idiocy. Especially after Y/n had proven herself to be quite clever and entertaining. “I am afraid that if I were to act, it would be considered treason on my part. I would lose the support of my people instantly for, although we are criminals, they pride themselves on an honest Great Eye.”

“What are you suggesting, Lady L/n?” Maul questioned impishly, already planning ways to make the people of the Hidden Gaze comply.

Y/n stood suddenly though she still remained regal and poised as she made her way around the table, steadily approaching the two zabrak men. Savage, who had been quiet the whole time, growled as she grew closer. “You know precisely what I am suggesting, Lord Maul.” Her voice oozed with contradictory honey-like venom. She stopped two feet away from Maul, gracefully leaning against the empty chair to his left. She was so close; Maul had a brief urge to reach out and pull her into his lap. “I’ve been meaning to collect some new advisors anyway, I’m sure if something were to happen to one of my currents, it would not be a big deal.” Y/n was positively villainous and Maul loved it. This woman screamed power, this woman radiated control, yet here she was willingly trying to secede her reign to him. It made him ponder what other ways he could make her submit.

“What did you have in mind, my dear?” The sith hadn’t meant for the endearment to slip out, but it had and it was evident that the woman before him enjoyed it. Her eyes dilated just enough that Maul was certain it wasn’t caused by the low lighting and the apples of her cheeks were beginning to darken.

“Ors Pell, the Muun that was seated closest on my left. He has been the most… outspoken in his opposition of your rule.” Y/n straightened and folded her hands placidly in front of her, almost mimicking the pose of an innocent young girl. “I would like you to make an example out of him. Once his voice has been silenced, I’m certain the rest of the Clear Sights will reconsider their positions.”

Maul rose from his seat and stalked towards Y/n, hands folded behind his back. “You are more wicked than I thought, Lady L/n.” The zabrak smiled down at her and the young woman met his gaze unabashedly.

“I prefer the term, resourceful. I know when an alliance is necessary and how to pick a good one.” The Great Eye explained in a tone that would have convinced any outsider that she was just a little girl caught up in a game meant for the big kids. But Maul could see through it. And she knew he could as she held out a hand for him to take.

Smiling smugly, Maul clasped Y/n’s hand carefully and lifted it to his lips. “Ors Pell will be dealt with momentarily, my dear.” He explained calmly as he lowered the woman’s hand and signaled for Savage to rise and go find the aforementioned Muun.

“Good.” Y/n hummed, watching Savage’s figure retreat further into her home in search of her soon to be ex-advisor. “And the Hidden Gaze coven will be yours, Lord Maul.” Her e/c eyes returned to his own saffron to vermillion ones. He found he rather liked the sound of ‘his’ on her tongue and the coven of assassins wasn’t the only thing Maul wanted to make ‘his’ anymore.

#darth maul #the clone wars #clone wars #tcw

115 notes · View notes

zecretsanta · 3 years

Text

FIC: Never Have to Say Goodbye

to: @juricha-art

from: @interabangs

Happy Holidays, juricha-art! I chose your Sigma/Diana prompt because they deserve so much happiness together after everything they’ve been through! Just to let you know, there is some angst in here, and a couple mentions of Diana’s ex and Delta. but I made sure to give the lovebirds the happy ending they deserve! Bonus D-Team family feels at the end, too. Hope you enjoy!

Sleep had become more of a passing acquaintance to Diana in the past few years. Between her duties at the hospital – and her fitful tossing and turning before heading to DCOM – she hadn’t been getting much of it. She would’ve been surprised at how quickly she slips into dreamland, if she weren’t so exhausted. She vaguely registers Sigma gently lowering her into bed, and lifting the thick, cozy comforter over her as he tells her, “Everything is going to be all right.”

When her eyes open, slowly taking in the small, dark room she’s in, she blinks a few times, and rubs at her lids.

The first thing she can tell is that she’s alone. She’s in a single queen-sized bed, and in what she gradually remembers is a motel room.

Her attention turns to its layout: door and window facing her with the curtains spread out, tiny television resting on a small cabinet just shy of five feet away from the foot of the bed.

Lifting her head from the soft downy pillow, Diana half turns around, still waking up as she looks at the bathroom and closet behind her.

It all comes rushing back to her as she sits up in bed, clutching at the collar of her red sweater.

After Carlos had shot Delta, Diana fainted right there in the desert. She’d known Delta had imprisoned her, imprisoned all of them. She didn’t blame Carlos for making the hard decision. But she couldn’t fully process her son’s death, and she had barely felt Sigma picking her up as the others argued what their next step was.

The rest of the day is a blur as Diana tries to recall it, sifting through her memories like holding a pan and trying to look for gold. She pulls her legs out from under the motel bed’s comforter and draws her knees up to her chest, breathing deeply like Rebecca had advised her, what felt like several lifetimes ago. And technically, it was true.

One breath in through the nose, hold it for five seconds, then exhaling through the mouth. It’s a technique that had helped calm Diana when she stayed with Rebecca, trying to find her footing and escape from the man who had caused her so much pain.

Try to look at the positives, she tells herself, continuing her breathing exercise in her large motel bed. And she walks through each of them: she’s alive. She’d found her daughter and love of her life, who are both also still alive. All the Decision Game participants, except for Delta, made it out alive. There is no Radical-6 in this timeline. Diana would never have to worry about that, or… him, again. She hadn’t been able to stop Delta from achieving his twisted plan with the Decision Game, and even though she had felt some instinctual maternal instinct toward the elderly man, she knows, as much as it pains her to admit it, that Carlos had made the best and safest decision for the group.

The fact that Diana, and the others, had all lived, is a miracle. They’d formed a shared goal in the aftermath of Delta’s death: stop the terrorist in this timeline. Diana knows she can begin her new life with her family, the family she remembers losing in a timeline she doesn’t want to dwell on right now.

She brushes her hair behind her ears, wondering where Sigma and Phi are. Searching through her murky memories of the previous day, she senses the bumpy ride of the van from DCOM, out in the middle of the desert, to civilization.

Diana recalls snatches of conversations in the van ride: some heated words from Eric to Akane, Junpei snapping right back at Eric, Sean’s questions from the middle seat, and Carlos’s calm, measured tone from the driver’s seat.

Diana remembers Sigma holding her hand as the van speeds over sand first, then pavement, and how warm his touch was, how his sturdy frame supported her as she sank against his side, half-awake, wondering where they were going.

��We need to hole up somewhere for a bit,” Phi had assured Diana when she could hear other cars driving next to the van, the occasional honk, and more conversation from up front as Mira tells Eric and Junpei, “Oh, knock it off already.”

“That’s going to be fun to deal with,” Diana remembers hearing Sigma mutter to Phi, and Junpei had said, “Hey, I heard that, back there!”

Diana laughs a little in bed, interrupting her own breathing exercise as she realizes the absurdity of their situation. She takes in another breath, and finds the last piece of gold, the last memory of the previous night.

Sigma had carried her from the van to her room, whispering to Phi, “We’ll explain everything to her in the morning, okay? Right now, she needs to get some sleep.”

“Are you really going to sleep with her tonight? Don’t you think that’s a little… forward?”

Sigma had paused in the middle of the hallway, and his stance changed, his shoulders slumping a bit. Diana had stirred then, opening her eyes, and Sigma said, “Sorry, Diana. We’ll let you get some rest.”

The last thing Diana remembers is Sigma tucking her into bed and closing the door quietly behind him. Phi had said something outside the room, but Diana can’t quite remember it.

She chews on her lower lip, chasing down the memory and trying to uncover it before she goes looking for Sigma and Phi.

Just as she’s still trying to remember, she notices something on the floor in front of her door, that hadn’t been in the motel room when she’d woken up.

Her eyes now adjusted to the dim light, she peers at the object half illuminated through the crack by the exterior hallway lights.

It’s a piece of paper.

Then, all at once, Diana remembers what Phi had said when Sigma closed the door:

“Do you really think things will work out between you two?”

Diana swings her legs out from under her, and she takes the six steps to the note under the door. She’d been so preoccupied with trying to calm herself down and remember how she got from the desert to the motel room, that she wasn’t even aware of anyone stopping by her room and sliding the note under her door.

With slightly trembling hands, Diana opens the folded note. She flips on the room light, blinking rapidly and wincing before peering down at the note.

Diana,

I’m sorry for everything that has happened to you. I wish I could take it all back, somehow, even though part of me will forever be grateful to have met you. If only it had happened under better circumstances.

Please understand I want all the best for you. Take care of Phi (she needs it.) I’m sure you both have a lot to catch up on.

Lo All the best,

When she finishes reading it, Diana steels herself to take another calming breath or two.

Then she slips on her shoes – Sigma must have taken them off before tucking her in – and she wrenches the heavy motel door open, dashing out into the cool night air.

Her skirt is wrinkled all over, one of her flower clips is halfway down the back of her hair, her shoes are back in the room lined up neatly next to the door – Sigma had probably taken them off before laying her in bed –

– And she realizes that she doesn’t have the keycard to her room just as the door slams shut behind her.

But Diana doesn’t care about any of that.

She races down the hall, around a corner, and then, all the way down the end of the longer hall, she sees Sigma standing in front of an elevator.

She calls out his name, but her voice is nearly unrecognizable from recent lack of us.

Then, after clearing her parched throat, she tries again, “Sigma!”

He turns, and his eyes widen.

“Wait!” Diana cries out, and runs over to him as he stares at her, completely shocked. “Where are you going?”

He blinks once, then again before saying, “Diana! I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No, I was already awake. And then I saw this.” She hold up the note. “What does it mean? Are you… are you leaving me? Are you leaving Phi?”

Sigma looks away at her question, glancing up at the floor the elevator is on. They’re on the fourth floor, and the elevator is still on the first one. “Should’ve taken the stairs,” he says, as if talking to himself. “So that’s what I get for being lazy, huh?”

“Answer the question,” she says, a little more harshly than she meant to, so she adds, “please. Where are you off to?”

He stares at her for a few more seconds before he schools his stunned expression into an indiscernible one, looking up at the elevator numbers on the top of its metal frame. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not? Are you leaving for forever?” Tears spring to Diana’s eyes, and a pit forms in the bottom of her stomach. “I thought maybe we could…” she trails off, then, not really certain how she wants to finish the sentence.

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry Diana, but I don’t think that would be a good idea right now.”

“What? Why?”

He sighs, pushing the button for the elevator again. “I thought I’d be the type of person who could never yell at you the way I did, when we were in the decontamination room. I…” His voice drops to a decibel just above a whisper as he shuts his eyes. “I thought I would never be the kind of person that could hurt you.”

“But I hurt you too!” she protests. “And I had less of a reason to.”

Sigma rakes a hand through his hair. “I was just as bad for you as… he was.”

“No!” Diana takes a step forward, raising her free hand to put it on Sigma’s arm, maybe in some desperate attempt to anchor him to the floor. But she stops, when she looks at his face, at the combined mixture of guilt and self-loathing twisted in his usually handsome features.

She puts her hand down. “That’s not true, Sigma. I remember what happened too. We were both so scared, and confused… And I remember you said you were sorry, and then you comforted me when I needed it the most.”

Sigma doesn’t answer, but Diana notices that the elevator is still stuck on the first floor, so she keeps going.

“Do you remember how patient you were when we found out that I was… expecting? You gave up half your rations for me, for months. You were so stubborn about giving up your portions that I had to feed you a couple times so you wouldn’t pass out. You gave me footrubs when I complained about walking, you let me have my own time in the healing room when I said I needed space.” Tears streak down her cheeks at the memory of his kindness. “And you did… so much for me when I couldn’t think about anything else but touching you. I couldn’t have survived in there without you, Sigma. You did more than I could ever ask for, you did everything you could for Phi and…” Diana’s eyes burn a little as she shut them, unable to say Delta’s name. “For them.”

When she looks up at Sigma, she can see his own eyes watering.

“That doesn’t make my actions right,” he says, lowering his head. “You’ve already been through too much pain. I don’t want to risk the chance of putting you through any more of it.“

The elevator arrives on their floor with a rapid ding! that makes Diana crush the note even more.

Then, before she can stop to think, she dashes into the elevator, and turns to face Sigma before he can enter.

His hard, resolute stare softens into curiosity. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want you to go!” she protests. “After everything we’ve been through, you can’t just leave like this!”

His mouth curves up into a half-smile, and that gives Diana a bit of hope. “Technically, I can,” he says, thumbing the elevator button before the door can close between them. “It doesn’t mean I want to leave. But if this is what it takes to help you recover from everything you’ve been through, then so be it.”

“Do you remember what I said, about you being a coward?” she asks, and Sigma’s smile vanishes, instantly answering her question with his haunted expression. “I was completely wasted when I called you that,” she continues, stepping forward. “I wanted to hurt you. See? I wish I didn’t say those things either, or treated you horribly when you were just trying to make sure I was eating. But I did. And now we’re here. Now we can fix it, Sigma. We can put that all behind us, and move forward, together.”

She takes a step toward him, standing between the elevator doors.

He takes her free hand, the one not crushing the note, and pulls her out into the hall without hesitation.

More tears roll down her flushed cheeks as she squeezes his hand, letting the elevator doors close behind her.

“I don’t know what to do if you leave,” she says. “Phi’s here, and I’m so grateful for that. I’m glad that we found our daughter. But I still want to be with you. Do you… do you not want to be with me anymore?”

He looks at her for a long moment, that stretches as far down as the motel hallway, and Diana’s heart sinks into her stomach as she begins to think that he -

“Of course I want to be with you, Diana,” he says, enveloping her with his arms as she sobs out of relief. “I’d love nothing more than getting to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“I feel the same way,” she says, sniffling, her voice muffled by his chest. “We can work through this, all our crazy time traveling problems, together.”

Even though she can’t see his face, she knows he’s smiling again, and they sway on the spot in front of the elevator, crying as they tighten their embrace.

“I’m glad you didn’t take the stairs,” Diana whispers to him, clutching his back.

“Me too. Apparently, laziness and outdated wiring does pay off sometimes.”

She laughs, then looks up at him. “Um, Sigma?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you get a room tonight too? I kinda… locked myself out of mine.”

“Oh.” His eyes widen in realization. “Oh! Well, uh…” His face flushes a little, exactly how she remembers it did when she kissed him in DCom, and he clears his throat. “Uh, yeah, I got a room, though I wasn’t planning on stay in it for long. Akane has your keycard, since she figured you would be sleeping all night. But since she’s with Junpei now, we probably shouldn’t bother them.”

Diana laughs a little at Sigma’s bashfulness, despite them having spent many nights together themselves in another timeline. “Don’t worry, I don’t have any funny business in mind. Not tonight, anyway.”

“Not tonight,” he agrees. “But it would be good for us both to get some rest. Is that all right?”

Diana sighs happily as she hugs Sigma once more, then lets him lead the way to his room. “Most definitely.”

—————————

When Diana wakes, she’s delighted to feel Sigma pressed up behind her, his strong arms embracing her around the side. Not too tight to give her enough space, but in a comforting way, and much more secure than the blanket in her previous room when she’d woken up alone.

She shifts eventually, turning over to see him as he begins to wake up himself. “Hi,” she says.”

He leans forward, pressing gentle kisses into her hair. "Hi.”

“Wanna go downstairs?”

“Yeah, I just need another minute.” He stretches, and she laughs at the sight of his large form nearly taking up the other half of the bed. He relaxes, and hugs her to his chest again, enveloping her in his warmth as she breathes in his scent. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted.”

She buries her face in his chest. “Me too.”

“I’m not so sure I can get up now,” Sigma tells her.

“Ew, perv.”

“Ahhh!” Sigma yells, and Diana sits right up.

“Phi?”

Their daughter shuts the small cabinet under the TV at the foot of the bed, rolling her eyes. “Knew I should’ve waited until you both came down for breakfast,” she grumbles.

“What are you – are you trying to look for my wallet?” Sigma asks.

“Actually, it’s not your wallet I’m looking for,” Phi says with a smirk. “Akane got it for you yesterday with her Crash Keys funds, remember?”

“Well, yeah,” Sigma says, sitting up in bed along with Diana, “but didn’t she give you some money too?”

“I’m afraid not,” Phi says, shaking her head as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Akane said that the cash she gave you last night should be enough to cover all three of us, and I wanted to get a soda from the vending machine. So where is the wallet, old man?”

“Oh, so this is where it starts, huh? Now you’re asking me for allowance?” Sigma asks, reaching behind him to fumble around in the bedside table drawer. He pulls out a brand new wallet, takes out a twenty dollar bill from the thick wad of cash, and holds it up.

Phi groans, “Please don’t tell me I have to go over there and get it. Not if you’re both naked under there.”

“We’re not naked, Phi!” Diana says, flipping the comforter off her and Sigma.

“No, my eyes!” Phi cries, holding her arm up to shield her vision.

“Don’t worry, Phi – look, we’re wearing clothes!” Sigma says, and Phi slowly lowers her arm.

“Okay,” she says, trying to pretend she hadn’t lost her cool and collected demeanor. Diana can’t help but stifle a giggle as Phi rolls her eyes and stomps over to Sigma’s side of the bed, snatching the money out of his hand as he grins at her smugly.

“This means you’ll be mowing the lawn, right?”

“Hah hah. Last I checked, you don’t even have a lawn to mow.”

“Oh, we’ll have one eventually,” Sigma says, turning to Diana with a soft smile, his eyes filled with hope for the future.

When Diana returns his smile, there’s a moment of silence before Phi asks her quietly. “So, um… does that mean you want us to be a family?”

Diana turns to look at Phi, and, seeing her daughter’s face, the mixture of guarded longing and incredulity, she can’t help but jump off the bed, rushing to join her and giving her a hug.

“Oh, Phi,” she says, her voice breaking, “of course I do!”

Phi stiffens for a second, then relaxes into her embrace. “Good,” she says. “I’m glad you do too.”

“I thought you didn’t want us to be a family,” Sigma says to Phi from the bed.

“Well, of course I did, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to!” Phi says as she hugs Diana back.

“But the way you were talking last night,” Sigma says, stumbling over his words, “I just figured you wanted me to leave.”

“What?” Phi blinks at him, and laughs. “No, I didn’t want you to leave, you old geezer. I just wanted you to make sure you know that this is what you really want. I don’t… I don’t want either of you to end up getting hurt. Not again, not after everything we’ve been through.”

“You don’t have to worry about us, Phi,” Diana says. “We’ll be fine. But I don’t think we’ll all be able to settle down until we stop the terrorist and save everyone.”

“She’s right,” Sigma says, getting up off the bed and joining Diana and Phi. “I don’t know if we’ll ever be anything resembling a ‘normal’ family. But maybe that’s okay. Maybe we don’t need ‘normal.’ Maybe we can just be… us.“

Diana clasps her hands together, tearing up. Sigma puts his arms around her and Phi, and Diana’s chest swells with all the love she has for him and their daughter..

“Okay,” Phi agrees, sounding as relieved as Diana has felt since Sigma decided not to leave. Then, Phi adds hurriedly, “Let’s just… try to keep it to the three of us for now, all right?”

Diana laughs as Sigma hugs both her and Phi closer to him. “Promise.”

#zero escape #zero time dilemma #diana/sigma #juricha-art #interabangs #zecret santa 2020 #submission

18 notes · View notes

aiorevelations · 3 years

Text

A Number, Not a Name: Chapter 13

We hope you all enjoy. We have a few more chapters coming tonight! ; - )

Present-day:

Scarlett stood in the ballroom of Dalmar’s house directing where the delivery men should hang some paintings Dalmar had ordered specially for the gala that evening.

“Where should we place this piece ma'am?” One of the delivery men asked as he held a portrait of Tigran Hakobyan, a famous Krudian general.

“Place the portrait on the right side of the fireplace.” She pointed in its direction.

“So is everything set for tonight.” She heard a male voice come from behind her.

Scarlett turned toward Dalmar. “Nearly done Dalmar. The works by Sargayan were just delivered.”

“Excellent. I want everything to be perfect for tonight.”

“And it will be.” Scarlett stepped closer towards him. “I must say I have never felt such a great feeling of anticipation for anything before. To know that we are on the eve of a new Krudia, a different world. You can’t help but feel the excitement in the air.”

“I must confess that after all the time, energy, and resources I have put into this project, I find it hard to believe that I am so close to accomplishing my goal.”

“I’m just grateful to be by your side and to have played a small part in making your goal a reality. Your tuxedo is tailored, pressed, and ready for this evening. I laid it out on your bed.”

“Very good. I best get ready for the gala. See you later this evening.” Dalmar began walking to his bedroom.

“Of course.” As she saw Dalmar leave the room Scarlett smirked to herself. All the pieces of her plan were falling into place; it was just a matter of letting things naturally run their course. That was until it was time for her to interfere with that course.

As Dalmar slipped on his shawl lapel tuxedo jacket he wasn’t even the slightest bit aware of the tiny voice-activated recorder carefully placed in the left pocket of his suit.

…..

Jason stood in front of the mirror in his hotel room, adjusting his bow tie. Once he was finished he picked up the diamond cufflinks he’d placed on a table by the dresser and attached them to the cuffs of his white dress shirt. He then slipped on his notch lapel tuxedo jacket and did up the front bottoms. He glanced down and up at his reflection, checking his entire outfit, and took a deep breath. Jason wasn’t one to be nervous but even he would admit that the thought of attending a Gala with a wanted criminal was jarring. He knew that the success of his and Tasha’s mission depended on the outcome of this evening. They needed to get the necessary information tonight, otherwise, most likely his first field mission would be a failure. After all the time he had waited to prove himself as an agent on the field, he was going to do whatever it took to make sure that didn’t happen.

He heard a knock at his room door and walked over to open the door. He opened it and saw Tasha. Jason was taken aback by how gorgeous she looked. She was wearing a dark blue off-the-shoulder gown. The dress had a draped ruffle cascading down the left side. All over the gown was embellished and embroidered with sequins. Her shoes were dark blue suede pumps. Her hair was pulled back and twisted in a crown braid. She also wore a pair of diamond halo earrings and held a navy clutch. He always thought she was breathtakingly beautiful but her evening attire seemed to accentuate her stunning features even more.

As Tasha looked at Jason standing in front of her she couldn’t help but think about how good he looked. He was wearing a black notch lapel tuxedo suit, emerald-cut white diamond octagon cufflinks, and black Oxford dress shoes. From the time they met she thought he was very handsome but now, standing there in his suit, she found him even more good-looking. Though of course, she’d never admit it.

“Melinda, hey”

“I thought I’d stop by, see if you were almost ready,” Tasha said as she entered the room.

“Funny, I was just about to go over to your place and make sure you were at least out of the shower” he teased.

“Well,” Tasha glanced down at her outfit “I’m not wearing a bathrobe” she playfully replied.

“No, you definitely aren't,” Jason smiled, causing Tasha to smile as well.

“Speaking of the shower, let’s go in there.”

“The…shower?” he asked, an expression of confusion on his face.

“The bathroom actually, just for a moment.”

“Okay.” he responded, still confused by Tasha’s statement. Jason followed Tasha into the bathroom. After they entered she quickly turned on the shower.

“I thought you already had one of these.” Jason joked.

“We need to talk.” Tasha responded, a serious look in her eyes

“Oh and to talk you need the shower on?”

“Unless you want to be covered with bugs.”

“Bugs?” Jason repeated, still confused. After a second it dawned on him what Tasha meant. “Oh bugs, right. Too bad I forgot to pack my insect repellent.”

Tasha kiddingly rolled her eyes and gave a slight smile. “As I was trying to say, I know technically you’ve been undercover already since we’ve met Dalmar and secured the deal. But tonight is going to be—“

“Hard. Difficult. Demanding.” Jason crossed his arms.

“Let’s just say not a walk in the park.” Jason nodded his head. Tasha continued, “in my experience at these events, where you have to remain undercover for a long period of time, new agents tend to slip up or lose focus. We already have a good deal of intel on Dalmar. From what we’ve seen, with his massive base of followers and speech about radical change, I suspect he’s planning on staging a coup.”

“Either that or win power first by legitimate means and then seize control of the entire country.”

“The how doesn’t matter, we just have to ensure that he doesn’t take over this country. And the only way to do that is to find out where the weapons are located. As of now the only way we have of learning this information is from Dalmar directly.”

“And who knows if we’ll see him again before Wednesday, when the weapons are supposed to be delivered.”

“Exactly, which makes tonight our only shot at getting the information we need, which means that you and I have to bring our ‘A’ game.”

“Understood.”

“Good.” Tasha smiled and turned off the shower. She then remembered something. “Oh, sorry I almost forgot but would you give me a hand with this necklace? For some reason, I can’t get it to clasp.” She held the sapphire bar drop necklace out to him that she’d been holding for the past few minutes.

“Sure.” He took the necklace from her and clasped it around her neck.

“Thanks.”

“It sure is a beautiful necklace,” Jason remarked.

“Thank you. It belonged to my grandmother.”

“Well, it looks wonderful on you. You look great by the way.”

“Thanks. Though I’ve worn this dress to a million other parties.” Tasha laughed. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Why thank you. I try my best.” Jason gave a boyish grin.

“Just don’t let it go to your head.”

“Okey-dokey.” They both smiled again.

“We’d best get downstairs. The last thing we need is to be late.” Tasha began to head for the door.

“Right behind you.”

…..

The older man reached for the microphone that was placed in the car and spoke into it. "This is White Falcon. The targets have just left The Chardell.”

Red Sparrow’s voice echoed in response through the car speaker system. “Affirmative. Do not take action. Stay in your current position until further notice.”

“Understood.”

…..

As Tasha and Jason made their way to Dalmar’s house they each noted the drastic change in scenery. The vehicle traveled through the sprawling city, a large grassy plain dotted by small farms and villages, and up a windy road on Mt. Karanaj. Finally, the BMW pulled up in front of a mansion which was located about halfway up the mountain in the middle of a forest. The house was four stories tall with a basement as well. The house was in the style of a modern mountain home as parts of its walls were made of redwoods with the other large sections being made out of stone as well as cutouts and windows of glass. It also had sloped and flat rooflines, timber and steel details, and a massive porch and deck situated in the front of the house.

A doorman walked up to the car and opened the right passenger door. Tasha and Jason each said “Thank you” to the gentleman as they exited the BMW and headed for the entrance to the house. They entered through the arched doorway into the entryway and were greeted with a crowd of people gathered in the house, the women dressed in the finest designer dresses and jewelry and the men wearing their best tuxedos.

The inside of Dalmar’s home was even more elaborate than the outside. It had high vaulted ceilings, redwood beams that stretched from one end of the room to the other, ornate gold and onyx carvings in the walls, murals, and paintings from world-renown artists hung on the walls. The floors were made of the finest marble and numerous crystal chandeliers hung throughout the mansion.

Almost as soon as they entered the home Tasha and Jason were greeted by Tarek.

“Melinda, Edward. Welcome.”

“Hello Tarek” Tasha responded.

“It’s good to see you again,” Jason added.

“Dalmar’s been anticipating your arrival. I’ll take you to him.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jason replied. Tarek led Tasha and Jason through the crowd to a gold-plated bifurcated staircase. They walked up a couple of flights of stairs and arrived at the second floor of the house. Tarek led them down a hall past several rooms and into a grand ballroom. The ceiling was adorned with frescoes that depicted famous moments in history. The walls and ceilings were overlaid with gold trimmings and carvings. A marble stone fireplace was in the center of the room and three gold and Swarovski clear crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The three of them made their way over to Dalmar who was standing by the fireplace, holding a glass of champagne in his hand. Tarek withdrew himself and headed downstairs to greet more arriving guests.

“Mr. Delucas, Ms. Tylerson” Dalmar greeted them.

“Dalmar” Jason acknowledged him.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again Dalmar,” Tasha added.

“Davit. You can call me Davit” he smiled.

“Only if you call Melinda.”

“For you my dear, that I can do.” He outstretched his arms “So what do you think of the place?”

“It’s amazing…Davit. Certainly one of the most elaborate and beautiful homes I’ve ever seen.”

“A man that can do this well for himself…it shows even more that we partnered with the right guy.”

Dalmar smirked and took a sip of his champagne. “Who am I to argue with that?”

Jason sensed an opportunity and spoke. “Speaking of our partnership. Melinda and I have been giving our deal a great amount of thought and we feel since we’ve supplied you with firepower we are entitled to be given some more information.”

“Information?” Dalmar furrowed his brow.

“Yes,” Tasha responded. “You’ve kept your plans for this operation rather close to the vest. Overall strategy. Location or locations of your armaments. We’re not in the habit of partnering in operations we know close to nothing about.”

“Trust me, for the sake of our success I can’t divulge much. My secrecy has been the only way I’ve gotten this far. What I will say is that you will be handsomely compensated. Whatever money you want. Whatever position you want. It will be yours” Dalmar took another swig from his glass.

“What do you mean by position?” Tasha pressed for more details. “A high position in society? To be honest we had our eye on a little more than that.”

Dalmar chuckled to himself. “I must say Melinda you are quite—”

“Determined? Resolute?”

“Very persistent.”

“It’s how I’ve survived in this business as long as I have.”

“That I can respect. Likewise, I think you and your associate can understand my hesitancy to disclose sensitive information.”

Before either Tasha or Jason could respond Adrian came up to Dalmar and whispered in his ear. Dalmar whispered something to Adrian in reply and then turned back toward Tasha and Jason.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment there is an urgent matter I must attend to.”

“Of course,” Tasha replied. Dalmar exited the ballroom with Adrian by his side, leaving Tasha and Jason alone. Tasha slightly shook her head and sighed. “I should have known a man like Dalmar would try as far as possible to keep things close to his vest.”

“At least you tried.”

“Thankfully, we have the rest of the evening. Though I have a feeling it’s going to be a very long one.”

“I’m going to go get some sparkling water to drink. Do you want any?”

“No, thanks. I’m fine.”

“Okay, then. I’ll be right back.” Jason made his way out of the ballroom and down to the first floor of the house. He walked through several rooms trying to find the bar. He then heard a voice from behind him. “Lost?” He turned to see Scarlett.

“Is it that obvious?” Jason laughed.

“Don’t feel bad it happens all the time to first-time guests. It is a pretty big house.”

“I was just looking for the bar.”

“Walk to the entryway, pass the staircase and go all the way to the back of the house, turn left and you’ll find it next to the kitchen.”

“Thanks, Ms…”

“Scarlett is fine.”

“Thanks, Scarlett.”

“Of course.”

Jason then left, followed Scarlett’s directions, and arrived at the bar. As he waited in line to get his drink something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Through a window in the back of the room, he spotted two of Dalmar’s security guards, talking to each other in hushed tones. Jason walked closer to the window to get a better look, careful not to draw any attention to himself. He saw the two guards talk for a few more moments before they started heading towards the woods. As they walked they stopped every so often to look back towards the mansion, He assumed to make sure no one was following them. Jason stood there going over in his mind what he should do.

Tasha said we should get the info from Dalmar but so far he’s been nothing but…cagey. It’s not like we have a guarantee he’ll give us the necessary info. This could be our only opportunity to get the intel we need. I could also prove myself to Tasha, to Donovan, to the Agency. Show them I actually have what it takes as an agent. The last thing I want is my first mission to be a failure. Sure, it’s a bit risky, but this is a great opportunity. Who knows it might be our only chance of getting the information we need.

Jason saw the two men walk farther and farther away in the distance and knew it was now or never. Pushing all remaining doubts out of his mind, Jason glanced around the room to make sure no one had noticed him watching the two guards. No one had. Jason quickly exited the room and walked back to the entryway. He discreetly slipped through the crowd and made his way outside.

…..

Tasha leaned against the railing of the wooden deck, taking in the majestic view of the mountainside and night sky all around. The views reminded her of the times she and her parents used to go camping in the woods together when she was a little girl. They’d all snuggle up by the fire, tell scary stories, and roast marshmallows. At night she and her parents would lie on the ground and gaze at all the stars. Tasha would point out to them and name all the constellations and stars she knew, which was a significant amount. Her parents would laugh and joke that she spent all the time they stargazed talking her head off. Tasha smiled to herself as she thought of the memory. Suddenly, she saw two men walking in the distance near the edge of the woods. She then spotted another man sneaking behind them. Tasha recognized the outfit the first men were wearing as the uniform Dalmar’s security wore. The other man wasn’t wearing a uniform, rather a tuxedo. Tasha soon realized the man was Jason.

“Enjoying the view,” Dalmar remarked. Startled, Tasha quickly turned around and saw Dalmar standing on the deck. “Sorry I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Tasha forced a smile. “No, it’s all right.” Dalmar walked closer to her. “The views here are…stunning,” she said as she looked over the landscape.

“Yes, they certainly are,” Dalmar replied, though Tasha noticed that he wasn't looking at the view but at her.

“In the ballroom, I couldn’t help but admire the portrait of Tigran Hakobyan above the fireplace. It truly was a lovely piece of art.”

“General Hakobyan huh? So you know your Krudian History.”

“Some, though I’d be the first to admit that I’m no expert.”

“That portrait is actually part of a collection by the famous Krudian artist Garine Sargayan that depicts famous Krudian generals and leaders. I just acquired the collection for tonight.”

“I would love it if you could show me the other portraits. You could tell me more about the men and women depicted. Their lives and conquests. I’ve always been fascinated by history. Besides I have no doubt that one day we’ll be adding your portrait to that collection.”

“I think I can manage that.” He offered her his arm. Tasha took it and the two of them began making their way back inside the ballroom.

As Tasha and Dalmar walked through the doorway she quickly glanced behind her and saw Jason disappear in the distance. She was relieved Dalmar hadn’t spotted him while on the balcony yet she still had an uneasy feeling she couldn’t shake. All she could do now was stick to her plan and hope for the best, though she expected the worst.

#aio #aio fanfic #AIO Fanfiction #jason and tasha #jason whittaker #tasha forbes #Jason #Tasha #Adventures in odyssey #adventuresinodyssey #It's time for the gala #the gala scenes are some of our most favorite moments we've written

2 notes · View notes

sol1056 · 4 years

Note

What are your overall thoughts on Castlevania season 3? So far the season, particularly the last two episodes (especially the 9th episode), have been controversial.

Well, that penultimate episode definitely put me in mind of the famous quote…

Obiwan: “I feel a great disturbance in the force…”

Half of which was probably screams into the void over this seeming betrayal, and the other half was shrieks in delight about confirmed OT3 potential.

On a more serious note, I’ve got a bunch of asks about S3, so I’m covering them all in this one response, because my thoughts come down to one thing.

This season was all about trust.

If we can consider this season (much like S1) to be setup, these episodes are for getting characters into the places and mindsets that the following act will require. So whatever we get in S4, it’ll require that Sypha be accustomed to Trevor’s life as an outcast demon-hunter, that Trevor accept his choices impact more than just him, that Alucard repell intrusions on his solitary guardianship, that Carmilla has a bound forgemaster and solid plans to grow an army, and that Issac has a full-sized army of his own.

A pedestrian approach would have been all plot: a whole lot of running from one place to the next while shouting exposition. It could’ve ended up a truly jarring tonal shift between what’s basically four separate storylines: Alucard and Cho’s former prisoners, Sypha and Trevor and Saint Germain, Isaac’s journey to find Hector, and finally Carmilla and Hector. Though given they hardly interact after the first episode, we could treat this as two parallel storylines: Carmilla and her sisters, and Hector and Lenore.

(Spoilers behind the cut.)

Instead, Ellis uses these four (or five) storylines to explore different issues with trust, betrayal, and isolation. Sypha and Trevor recognize that St Germain’s unexpected willingness to trust wasn’t born of seeing them as trustworthy, so much as a symptom of St Germain’s overwhelming isolation and loneliness – and they even remark on the similarity to someone else, implied to be Alucard. Who – after his highly guarded and distanced interactions with Sypha and Trevor in S2, followed by a month (or a year, Alucard’s lost track) of total isolation – has come to the same place as St Germain.

In both cases, those finales pivots on whether this third, isolated person can be trusted, as well as whether that person can trust the pair that claims to be helping. St Germain isn’t a fighter, and goes into the finale clearly terrified as to whether Sypha and Trevor can even keep him safe, while Sypha and Trevor have to take it on faith that St Germain’s intentions are good. (If you take Alucard’s animation to indicate that he has no experience as a lover, then the parallels are even more stark.)

Meanwhile, Isaac – as the captain so insightfully points out – remains fixated on the offenses done him, easily dismissing the kindness of an unexpected gift from a stranger. Hector’s issue, on the other hand, is too much trust, given too easily, with no questions ever asked (as Lenore drives home, first through interrogation and second through manipulation). Isaac’s determination not to trust anyone makes his way more difficult, while Hector’s determination not to question his immediate trust in the latest authority figure is what eventually traps him.

Even the four vampire sisters (an element I really loved, almost making up for the first two seasons’ near-dearth) pivot around issues of trust, but in their case, it’s whether they can trust that Carmilla’s grand vision is feasible. They don’t distrust Carmilla, or her ideas – they distrust that they can fulfill her visionary plan to its fullest extent. But they’re also intrigued by the idea, and clearly competent enough to make it happen – and despite a few times where it seems there might be fractures (more of Lenore’s diplomatic manipulation, in hindsight), the four really do trust each other pretty firmly.

There’s a secondary theme threaded through the storylines, too, although we only hear it stated explicitly in the Isaac and Trevor/Sypha storylines.

the captain: “If you don’t have your own story, you become part of someone else’s.”

The context here is whether one’s motivation comes from an external source, or is internal to the person. Isaac’s motivation (at least at the midpoint of this season) is clearly stated as revenge on Hector – that is, to rectify Hector’s wrongs that undid Dracula’s story. Alucard, too, is trapped in someone else’s story, as his motivation first is that he thinks helping two lost souls would please his mother, and later that training new demon hunters would please Trevor.

Sypha’s motivation is simpler: action! adventure! excitement! And in not stopping to consider the source (or the results) of her motivation, she ends up being accessory to not one but three stories (with Trevor along for the ride). The Trevor/Sypha storyline could be seen, in this light, as one in which they’re tools in other peoples’ stories. They fail to warn/assert/react fast enough to prevent the mad priest’s actions, they learn of (and then tackle) the church problem due to the town mayor’s need, and they learn of (and then tackle) the thing in the basement due to St Germain’s need.

In the end, St Germain (like Dracula) goes onto the next chapter of his story, with Sypha and Trevor left to handle the aftermath (like Isaac). They don’t even reclaim their story with the final discovery of the mayor’s depravity, as they end up (if understandably) destroying the evidence, as the mayor had requested.

When Trevor echoes the captain’s words (which could be Ellis wanting to drive the point home, or could imply that at some point, Trevor also met the captain), Sypha deflects his point. She’s quite certain she’s been living her own story, and enjoying it immensely. In the aftermath, Trevor turns the point around, saying that for the past few months, they’ve been living Sypha’s life, all action and adventure.

Trevor: “And now, we’re living my life.”

Trevor’s origins, after all, lie in the destruction of his family – but that destruction wasn’t at the hands of the demons they fought. Instead, it was at the hands of the church, its people, and the larger community. His storyline in S1-S2 was of someone who’d seen the worst of humanity, and ended up deciding to fight because he chose to, not because humanity deserves it.

With the possible exception of St Germain (which is more of an open question than a certainty), they trusted and discovered their trust wasn’t misplaced, so much as… that taking everything at face value meant they remained blind to what lay beneath. Their story halts with Trevor reminded of why he originally kept people at a distance (through snark and alcohol), and Sypha now enlightened as to how sometimes humans are far worst monsters.

That blindness is also present in Alucard’s story, when he takes the two young prisoners-turned-hunters at face value. He opens his house (well, most of it) to them, trains them, and tells them secrets of how to hunt his father’s race. It’s a radical shift from his original reaction to the Belmont hold, as a museum dedicated to the extermination of his race.

Which brings me to Ellis’ choice to have the finales as parallel battles, but he manages to have them reflect each other, as well. For Isaac, Sypha, and Trevor, it’s an external battle against an overwhelming foe. Sypha ends with literal blood on her hands, and other than St Germain’s departure, the rest of their victory is literally pyrric.

For Hector and Alucard, their storylines peak (ahem) at what should be a moment of trust and connection, which is why I can see the choice to have those storylines turn sexual. (Honestly, I thought the two young hunters were just going to cook Alucard dinner in return, or something – I had zero expectations that any story would ever go there.)

First, five separate battles would’ve been just a lot of chaos, compared to the contrast of apparent happy-endings (or happy-middles). Second, it drives home that Alucard has defenses all over the place, but none to seduction, while Hector simply clings to whomever is willing to call the shots, and only thinks to question later. They’re in the stage of their story that the captain raises to Isaac: after you’ve achieved this goal, what next? What is left for you?

Which is why I think their parallel endpoints – Isaac’s final battle, Alucard and the hunters, Hector and Lenore – all come to a head at being bound in some way. They’re still playing out someone else’s story, so they run headfirst into situations where that tunnel-vision can be used against them. Isaac may be the least trusting of the lot, but even he shows a remarkable tendency to take things at face value: to trust the gift from the seller, to listen to the captain, to sit and converse with the old witch who tells him about the possessed city. With as little foreknowledge as Alucard or Hector, Isaac rushes in, eyes too fixed on achieving someone else’s goal to see the trap ahead.

None of the bindings are shown as simple, easy to break, or without lasting effect. At the same time, it’s striking that Isaac and Alucard do manage to force their way free, while Hector can only flail about in pain. To me – given the theme of trust – that implies that somehow, both Alucard and Isaac do have the potential for a balanced trust. That is (unlike Hector) knowing when to take it away, even if both struggle with learning to give it.

Oddly, that’s why I think the season managed to position things beautifully for a next season, because we’ve come full circle.

It’s a curious thing about Alucard: when we first meet him in S1, he’s recovering from his father’s betrayal (of attacking humans); in S3, he’s recovering from the grief of loss (his parents, his only two friends) – and S4 ends with him shivering in pain/hurt over the betrayal of two people. Gotta wonder how much more Ellis will see fit to break this character down.

In S2, Hector was a valued lieutenant, if terribly blind to the implications of what Dracula wanted. Now those illusions are gone; he’s enslaved, wanted only for his skills (in the forge and in bed) – and the deal is quite explicit. Lenore has the grace to say that Hector should be getting something out of the deal, but that doesn’t change that Hector can’t pretend there’s no deal being made.

Isaac begins cast out, grieving Dracula (not entirely as a mission, but more as a friend, I think) – and ends with the resources and experiences to go in a new direction. He doesn’t have to take out Hector, who could be seen as small fry, anyway. (Especially given Hector’s now just a shell of a controlled man.) If Isaac chooses to go after Carmilla in S4, that’ll be the first step towards making his story his own. Note also that although Isaac may seem alone, he’s accompanied by a host of creatures. He has allies.

It’s the trust in those allies that seems to determine who ends well, and who does not. Although Trevor and Sypha (especially Sypha) were dealt an emotional blow by the post-battle revelations, they always had each others’ backs – and they leave the town behind, relatively unscathed. Isaac ends victorious, with a few of his army intact and the material to make more.

But the storyline that ends in the ascendant position is Carmilla’s. With her visionary ideas and her sisters’ abilities to make those visions real, Carmilla is positioned to go exactly where she wants. Which is why it’s also striking that (other than Lenore’s sex scene), neither Carmilla nor her sisters really have a ‘final’ battle. They’re effectively a season ahead of everyone else – the trust between the four is already established, solid, and reciprocated equally.

So you could say that being foolhardy about trust will land you in hot water – which pretty much covers all the central protagonists. But the story’s not that bleak, despite its final scenes, because it’s also saying that sometimes, to get where you want to be, you do have to take that leap – as illustrated by Isaac and St Germain. Or even that you trust, and if betrayed, you deal with the consequences, learn the lesson, and move on, like Trevor and Sypha.

Or you learn a different lesson, one preached by dear old dad: put the bodies of your conquests out front on stakes, and lock the doors, and trust no one. Which is a legitimate reaction to betrayal, don’t get me wrong, but one that S3 seems to be firmly saying will only end badly.

#castlevania #season 3 #sol thinks about stuff

154 notes · View notes