#black women and black men cant even breathe without being killed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

safia123 · 3 years

Text

Bang Chan Oneshot- So Far

Warning: Angst, She/Her pronouns, death, mentions of suicide and self harm.

There are a lot of twists and honestly, I cried at the end because I didn't expect my fingers to type what they did.

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

A/N- This is my first post and first fic (after a few long time). If you have any suggestions or improvements, I am all ears :) Also, I hope to write more gender neutrally in the future when I am able to do so properly.

____________________________________________

Sometimes life pushes the people you need to the deeper ends of the ocean. The more you swim, the harder it gets.. but the more you crave them.

In a world where riches ruled over morals, the Bang family were at the top. They were known for their lavish lifestyle. Just being in their presence could make warriors fall to their knees.

Mr. Bang inherited a successful trade company for weapons and warfare goods being sold all over the world. They were expensive and gold branded, just a touch of a bullet could slice a whole finger. Only the top, wealthiest people could afford to take even a few of the weapons. But they were never disappointed with the results. The weapons could turn pacifists into soldiers.

Whispers on the street claim that the family would use poor people to test the weapons, offering their families money in exchange for a life.

This wasn't helpful for the youngsters of the family. Their family's reputation proceded them.

The Bang family's eldest son, Chan, craved to be accepted.. to be befriended and not just used or feared for his name.

His mother was a poor woman, who had captured the heart of his father at a very young age. Sadly for the couple, his father was to be married to a rich businesswoman to maintain their familys reputation. She was stern and refused to look Chan in the eyes.

Chan never got to meet his mother. He was left with his father while his mother escaped before his fathers family could kill her.

Chan was always taught to never mention his mother and to pretend that Cilla was his biological mother. He was taught never to be curious, so he hid away his emotions at a young age so they would never get the best of him.

It was 9 in the morning and like every other day, Chan had to go to school. Rich kids need to be educated too, apparently.

He felt like the days were repeating themselves. Instead of his usual route, he decided to dress down, wearing a cap and a mask to stop anyone from recognising him. Of course, this meant that he would have to sneak early so no one would notice how he wasn't dressed in his uniform.

"One day off school wouldn't hurt. It's not like I will be missed." He thought to himself.

Today was the day Chan had been planning for weeks. He knew exactly what he was going to do. Exactly where he was going to go.

He could take a private plane to Rome or Hawaii ... but no. He just wanted one day where he could just breathe and live like a normal kid.

He took the first bus downtown. He wasn't sure how buses work so he just walked right in and the driver didn't say anything. He remembers hearing the kids at the back of the class- the ones that were too afraid to even look at him- mention an arcade. He had never been to one before. His father was too dejected and found it too painful to look at him without thinking of his mother and Cilla refused to accept him as her son.. so natually he had no one to go with. He had trouble making friends too, so that didn't help.

"Another shift?" He heard the bus driver ask the girl at the front. He seemed genuinely concerned and this caught Chans attention.

"Yeah. It's fine. I can do it." Smiled the girl at the front.

She looked quite scruffy and her eyes looked tired, but her brught smile seemed to fool everyone. She played it off pretty well. Once she stressed her lips across her face, the brightness would outshins the dread.

He watched as she sat in an empty spot towards the front of the bus. Her head rested against the side of the bus and she seemed as though she was fall into deep sleep within any second.

Something about her fasinated him.

When the bus had come to the 4th stop, the bus driver called out, "(Y/n) wake up, kiddo. You're going to miss your shift."

Her droopy eyes fluttered open and it took a few seconds for her to quickly pick up her bag and run towards the exit. Before she left, she started walking back as if she had forgotten something, "Thanks for waking me up, Steve. Have a great day!" She said with a smile and then ran back out.

Chans feet moved faster than his mind and before he knew it, he was off the bus and following her.

She walked into a restaurant.

"Bro, you need to hurry. He looks pissed. I don't know if he will let you off this time." The boy at the front warned (y/n).

"I know.. I'm sorry if he let it out on you." She apologised before rushing towards the back.

Chan had gone too far to stop now. Maybe (y/n) could be todays mystery. And all he had his mind on right now, was solving that mystery.

He approached the front desk and gestured "table for one". After the male had ignored him, he just walked right into the restaurant and sat at a fancy table, where he sat eagerly looking for (y/n).

It wasn't long before a tired-looking (y/n) walked out, in uniform, with a pen and pad and a fake smile to fix it all up.

She took the order from the group of girls two tables away from him and walked back to the kitchen. Not long after, she walks out juggling two plates. She seems steady until another waiter unexpectedly walks infront of her, catching her off guard and making her drop the dishes.

The whole restaurant went quiet after a loud SMASH and everyones eyes were on her. The kitchen staff ran out and you could feel her anxiety from across the room.

She didn't know where to look so she kept her eyes on the shattered pieces of glass on the floor. She was looking directly at the floor but her face seemed to became more and more disengaged with the situation.

The manager smiled at the customers reassuring them that everything was fine as he dragged her away from the scene.

Chan got up and walked towards the kitchen, pretending he was on his way to the toilets. He could hear shouting and crying.

A tired, tear stained (y/n) walked out soon after looking defeated. She walked to the toilets and was there for a while.. until she came out, still looking down, headed to the door. Chan followed her to the bus stop and sat next to her guarding her from the other men at the stop who were oogling her in her skirt and ripped tights.

Chan noticed little drops of blood on the floor and his eyes followed the trail to (y/n)'s legs, where there was a huge gash and as he kept searching, he noticed her sleeves were completely soaked in blood. He was surprised that he didn't notice before. It seemed as though (y/n) had passed out and before he could call the ambulance, the man next to him had already called.

When the ambulance arrived, Chan rushed into the ambulance with (y/n), eyebrows furrowed as he eagerly hoped to see her (y/e/c) eyes once more.

The paramedics were putting pressure on her wound and he heard them mention her blood pressure dropping.

When she was taken to the hospital, she was taken to the Intensive Care Unit and the paramedics explained the situation to the doctors.

He was too caught up in what was happening to ask the doctors if she would be better. He sat outside the room where they were operating on her and felt bad for her. He kept thinking about her pained smile and her tired eyes.

They seemed so familiar. So important. But he couldn't pinpoint why.

Her sleeping body was taken to a room, where he sat by her side. She was attached to a machine but he didn't pay attention to it. He kept wondering where he knew her from.

He was watching her and taking him her features when her eyes started to flutter open.

"Thank God, you're ok!" Chaan gushed. He then realised how weird this would have looked. He was a steanger to her and she was most likely about to freak out.

"Chan?" She questioned. "Huh? How do you know my name?" His head spinning with questions.

"You... you came back. I-where have you been? I waited. I waited for so long. And you lied. You said everything would be better. It is not better. She is still sick and they still constantly fight. Oh my gosh- my work. No. I- i cant lose it. I have to go back and beg. I can't lose it. How would I afford anything? I can't go back home and tell them that I lost the job. The other 2 jobs aren't enough. I- omg what do I do?!"

"(Y/n). Breathe. Its ok. Start from the beginning. I need you to tell me... how do you know me?" Chan had to clear his questions. Was she delusional? No. That cant be it. How did she know his name?

"Chan. Are you serious, right now? I haven't seen you in 10 years... your face still engrained in my head and you dont know who we are to each other?" (Y/n) looked betrayed. Her eyes started to water and he felt guilty for pressurising her.

He closed his eyes and inhaled. He slowly exhaled and for once he felt like the world was catching up with him.

He remembered a small park and two kids. A cute little girl and tiny Chan. The little girl was crying and Chan held onto her tight. He reassured her that everything would be fine. Surely it was normal for 8 year olds to be worrying about finances. He was approached by a pale lady with sad eyes. She looked just like him. Or maybe he looked like her.

"Mum? Where were you?" He gasped. Tiny Chan let go of the little girl and held onto the older women. "I'm sorry I had to leave but I am here now. I won't leave you again." She held him tight, the way he was holding the little girl.

The lady held his hand and led him away. "Chan!" The girl cried behind him. "I will be back. I promise! This is my mum. I need to go now. Everything will be fine."

And then it turns black.

"What happened next???? Where did we go??" Chan jumped up, frantically. This scared (y/n) a little.

Nothing made sense.

"You.. I thought.. they said that you died. Your father mourned your death and your mothers. I didn't believe them. You said you would be back. And here you are. They must have set up a fake grave for you and your mum. Maybe the bodies by the truck were a lie. It can't be true.. how else could you be here?" And then (y/n) went silent.

No.

He was dead? That can't be true.

So he wasn't being ignored? He wasn't feared? All those years he spent hating himself for not being noticed.. no one saw him. He was dead?

Reality hit him too fast to process. He didn't understand. Why him..? Why was he still there, then?

"Why can I see you..? Am I..?" (Y/n) whispered. She turned to the machine next to her and looked down at her sleeping body. The numbers were dropping and she felt like there was a countdown for her life.

Reality wasn't kind to her, either.

"This time, come with me. I am not leaving you behind." Chan held out his hand to (y/n). She stepped back.

"What? No. They need me. I can't just go. They will all suffer because of me. I should have neved even thought about doing what I did. I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WAS THINKING! I JUST WANTED IT TO STOP. But not like this..." she whispered the last part.

"Life goes on. What's done is done. We can't change it. It will all work out and everyone will move forward. Trust me. I've seen it." He comforted her.

He reached out once more.

"I'm sorry I had to leave but I am here now. I won't leave you again."

She took his hand.

- BEEEEP-

#bang chan oneshot #bang chan #christopher bang #stray kids #stray kids oneshot #kpop angst #kpop #stray kids angst

20 notes · View notes

bakuyonce · 4 years

Note

not trying to defend her but i saw people say 'what poppy did wasn't racist. she only targetted zoey because she's the closest to mc' and I'm sort of confused?? it'll be great if you could explain since i love you and you're someone i trust to answer this confusion properly 💙

Before I say anything else: FOR ANYONE WHO SAYS “WHAT POPPY DID ISNT RACIST”, IF YOU ARE NOT BLACK YOU DO NOT GET TO CLAIM WHAT ISNT ANTI BLACK. STAY IN YOURE LANE AND STOP SPEAKING OVER BLACK PEOPLE!

Ok so there are several reason why what Poppy did was racist:

-Poppy brought up Zoey’s living situation as if it was something to be ashamed of. There has been many instances of black people being made fun of and stereotyped as living in the ghetto

- Poppy downplaying Zoey’s fathers job. It’s also another stereotype that black people either are lazy, have low income jobs or don’t have respectable jobs

-Poppy main beef was with MC not Zoey. Yet she humiliated Zoey far more than she did MC. Zoey is the innocent one in this situation yet her mugshot gets pulled up for everyone to see. This tactic happens far too many times in real life where the media will pull up pictures of black people portrayed as thugs or their criminals record even when they are innocent in the situation they are currently whereas white people will be put in a good light despite commuting murder. Here’s a prime example from earlier this week:

Now this is not a mugshot however my point still stands. The media digs up anything that may make a black person the bad guy even when they were almost killed in a hate crime while cleaning up the image of a white person who murdered protestors.

- The line this is “all you’ll ever be” from Poppy is extremely harmful due to what I stated above. Black people cannot make one wrong small mistep without it being held over our heads for the rest of our lives while white people can do every bad thing under the sun and still have a opportunities that black people cant even dream of unless they’re perfectly squeaky clean. And even when a black person is squeaky clean this opportunity are still harder to obtain.

- Again Poppy humiliated Zoey, a black women, far more than she humiliated MC. To this day, black women will get mistreated, abused, and forced to be humbled for even breathing the wrong way. We are treated less than non black women by both non blacks and black men. Poppy, an Asian woman choose to humble the black woman and tell her that she was nothing more than a thief and a social climber and allowed her to get food thrown all over her. Meanwhile MC (the one that coded white bc lets be real any customizable character is white coded) who was actually worse to her gets at worse a video of her hog calling. Absolutely nothing thrown on her, just a remix of MC hog calling.

Poppy may have not said any slurs but her actions where completely racist and as I said before non blacks should not be speaking over black people who have said this is racist. Stop speaking over black people.

#playchoices #qb #queen b #i usually dont put my asks in the main tag but some of yall clearly need to read rhis #*this

85 notes · View notes

starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Operation Steel- Eye,”

This is probably the last bit I will be doing on this particular thread because I want to do more with it in the book version, but hopefully this will get you guys interested in how things turn out.

They had gone through another attack. The rundi chairwoman had not been expecting it, but all of a sudden there were voices, and shouts, and people running this way and that, she had been hurriedly bundled into a truck and driven for over an hour in the opposite direction with no idea what was happening, and no one that seemed to want to tell her what was going on. When they finally stopped she was told there had been another attack, and they were trying to get her as far away from the fighting as possible.

They waited there for over half a day, and only began their return journey when a spotty call came in over their radio to drive them back. When they reached camp, a good portion of it had been damaged, especially alone the suwards side, though, as she got out of the truck, she was told they were lucky, and the ashfall cleared enough that their long range weapons became more effective, driving the Drev off for a time.

“However, I don’t think I need to tell you how imperative it is that we get operation steel-eye up and running.” The admiral was saying leading her through the camp, as the soldiers scrambled to repair and re-supply themselves for an attack that could happen at any moment. Ever since the supply ships had been able to get through the atmosphere, thing in camp were looking a little less bleak.

The wounded were better cared for, and the soldiers were receiving more rations.

Though the ash was still a heavy nuisance, and kept the days mostly dark, they did have occasional times of clearance that allowed them to see the sun.

She moved into place behind the admiral, who had led them to the new medical tent, less of a tent now and more of a pop-up shelter, with reinforced siding, and an actual door. Stepping inside, she couldn’t help but gawk at the difference just a few days of supplies had made. The floors and walls were a uniform steel grey, and proper decontamination equipment was brought in to rinse ash from their bodies. Instead of suits to put over themselves they were washed off and given entirely new sets of clothes.

Stepping onto the ward was a much greater relief. The place was spotless clean, bright white lights shone in from above, and instead of rolled mats on the floor, there were cots, clean bandages, and monitoring machines hooked up to each of the wounded soldiers beeping away with their vital signs. Instead of moaning and pitiful whimpering from earlier, they were silent most of them asleep, all of them heavily drugged under vast swaths of pain killing medication. The first half of the room housed newly injured soldiers lying on cots their missing limbs bandaged and properly cleaned.

But the back of the room, well the back of the room was where things changed.

The fruits of operation steel- eye. At least twenty soldiers, this being the first medical tent, she was told there were twenty more soldiers in the second. They did not lay on open beds, but instead hung from the walls in various states of unconsciousness, pinned there by the thick metal contraptions welded to their bodies. A main rod of the metal was riveted down their backs curving around onto their hips and then locking at the knees, similarly with the arms.

Metal protrusions connected to the underarms and over the back of the hands.

It was a strange sight, and made her rather nervous as she somehow felt the wrongness of the steel next to delicate skin and bone.

Theadmiral stepped forward to examine the sleeping soldiers, “We lost 20% of these brave men and women after the first few hours out from the operation. Bacterial meningitis, and the occasional paralysis. A few of them just stopped breathing, but that could have been a reaction to the medication. This is all we have left.

The rundi chair woman stepped forward looking up at the sleeping humans their eyes close, their faces so much more peaceful now. As per usual she was drawn to one human in particular, the only human that she actually knew on sight based on their history together, or their acquaintance.

From her reports, this human had been the first human ever to meet nonhuman life, and had been instrumental in language acquisition for their linguists, and now here he was reduced to nothing more than a piece of hardware to be upgraded and augmented for the purposes of better battle strategy

The thought made her sick and uneasy. The more she thought about it, the more she was coming to realize that the humans and the Drev had more in common than anyone else on this battlefield, both of them were unwaveringly brutal, the Drev with tearing off limbs…. And the humans continually asking their soldiers to give when they had already given so much. With this thought her eyes shot down towards the human’s new robotic leg still and silver in the painful overhead lights.

No other species had ever considered such a thing as an alternative option, adding machinery to bioology….. As far as she knew there was nothing human’s couldn’t replace, and that thought made her wonder…. How far could they go before there was no more human left before the machine took over completely?

As she thought looking up at the sleeping human the admiral came to stand next to her looking up at the face of the sleeping human.

Her eyes drifted downwards, noting a strange dissimilarity in one of the human’s arms. With one hand she pointed out, “What is that.”

He glanced towards, “Oh, well, that is a drug port.”

“A drug port?”

“He nodded, unfortunately due to our time constraints we cant let their injuries fully heal, which means we will be mainlining morphine during combat, but due to the nature of the side effects of morphine, we are going to have to pair it with a drug classified as a stimulant to keep alert during battle.”

The rundi chairwoman shifted nervously, “I… not to question your methods admiral, but havent you asked enough from them. First they lose their limbs, then you splice them with robotics, and now you are keeping them drugged.” The admiral looked down at her with a cold unreadable expression, “You wanted us to win this war, and sometimes we have to do things that don’t make us sleep so well at night.”

There was an awkward pause of silence between them, but she let it go.

What did she know.

The humans probably knew what they were doing.

***

Lieutenant Adam Vir woke slowly, but he did it without pain.

In a somewhat drowsy haze, he floated upwards towards consciousness like one would float upwards through a pool of warm salt water. lights , beginning as big fuzzy circles, soon condensed themselves downwards into sharp points of light. The buzzing in his ears followed suit morphing and churning before turning dowards and sharpening out into a baseless echo. The echo that soon turned and warped again until, “Lieutenant, Lieutenant, can you hear me.”

The light jumped first to one eye and then the other.

He blinked past the pain squinting as he tried to make out the room ahead of him.

His fuzzy surroundings condensed, contracted, and then finally sharpened out, to the face of a woman. She was small petite, with black hair pulled up in a bun, and large, thick framed glasses. She had one hand on the side of his face as she flicked the light between his eyes.

He groaned slightly and shifted.

“There were are, that's good, can you focus here on the light and follow it please.” It took him a moment to comprehend what she was saying, but finally followed the little pen light with his eyes. She clicked it off andplaced it in her pocket, “Very good.” Reaching out she felt the side of his neck and up under his jaw, “Turn your head to the right…. Now left…. Now open your mouth…. Tilt your head back.” He did as told, though somewhat groggily. As he tried to tile his head back, he felt something strange flexing with him, “Very good, now can you wiggle your fingers for me.” He did as requested tilting his head down to look at his body, which he now realized was hanging upright instead of lying down.

He blinked again, trying to push a haziness from his eyes as he squinted past his hands and down towards his legs. They were bare mostly, which is how he noticed the metal prosthetic so quickly.

He missed her next couple of words as sounds and images came flooding back to him. Ashfall, a dark silhouette looming over him, the sharp point of a spear, and terrible horrible pain.

Something was beeping frantically off to his side.

A hand rested on his arm, “Come on back to us Lieutenant, you’re safe here.” He opened his eyes again looking over to find the admiral standing next to him, “There we go.”

He blinked again.

“How are you feeling?” The man asked

“Not… in pain.” He responded thickly

“Try flexing your toes.”

He did as told looking downwards. His left foot flexed just fine, but the right remained still. He grew sick felt his stomach churn.

“Hm that…. Wait, hold on there kid, we need to power it on.” A sudden relief washed over him as the woman bent down to engage the limb. The Admiral patted his shoulder, and suddenly his eyes widened, he could FEEL his leg, could feel the woman’s fingers as they moved across the metal, could feel it as if it was his own skin.

He shivered, and then shuttered goosebumps erupting across his entire body. She looked up at him, “Can you feel that.”

He nodded dumbstruck, eyes wide.

“That's good, now do what the good lady says and try to raise your arms.”

He did as told, and nearly clobbered himself in the head as his hands and arms flew upwards. He jolted in confusion, staring down at his arms in shock. He flexed hs fingers watching as tiny metal bits flexed with him clicking softly. He flexed his arm again and it felt as if he wasn’t even moving it, instead being dragged along by the metal frame which held his body.

He dropped his hands again.

“Reduce the response time on those,” the admiral ordered, “Let him get the hang of it first.” The woman adjusted something on the leg. He shivered again, feeling her fingers, the sensation was so real, he expected to look down and see his leg back, but predictably it was still metal.

“Go ahead and flex your toes now.”

Nervously he did as asked,and this time the toes of the prosthetic twitched and then curled inwards. He moved one, and then the other and then rolled them tilting his head back and closing his eyes, feeling as if he was in ecstasy.

“Good.” All around him, the other soldiers were doing the same. Across the way, a soldier, who was missing three of her limbs had tears spilling down her face as she flexed her new arm.

Another was blinking through a robotic eye and speaking for the first time…. With a mechanical jaw.

“Lets lower him down slowly let him feel the ground. They rushed to do as told racing over to the wall and slowly lowering him towards the ground. His feet made contact with cold metal…. He could feel it, the cold through the soles of his feet, the only difference was that…. Without skin, he didn't feel that subtle deflection as skin puckered and flatted about objects.

He tried lifting the knee of the new leg, and it came as told. He flexed the ankle, and the foot moved seamlessly with it.

“Wow.”

It was almost as if his leg was back, almost as if….

Embers fell from the sky, and that dark shape moved closer to him fro the darkness.

A hand rested on his shoulder and he jerked away, “Stay with us lieutenant.” The admiral moved forward taking him by the shoulders, “Look at me.”

He did.

The other man’s eyes burned hungrily, “This is your chance…. For revenge, to make them pay for what they did to you.”

Adam nodded, but at the same time, something inside him felt very uneasy. IS revenge what he really wanted…. But of course it was… wasn’t it, that roach had taken his leg..? But shouldn't he feel more?

“And, you will help win the war, no more casualties, no more pain. You do this and it will all be over, you’ll have served the UNSC, the GA, and earth….. Can you do that for me?”

Of course the admiral was right.

“Yes sir.”

435 notes · View notes

bibelothug · 4 years

Text

Black Lives Matter

Hi, nice to meet you!

My name is Ayumi Konno, and I am the founder of Bibelot, an online shop selling apparel, picture books and miscellaneous goods. I am also the mother of a 10 month old baby.

After hearing about the death of Mr. George Floyd, I started to learn more about racial discrimination against black people in the United States and began to wonder what I personally could do to fight against racism. I decided to collaborate with artists to create T-shirts that will spark discussions and bring awareness to this issue.

History and current status of discrimination against black people in America

In America, black people have suffered discrimination for a very long time, and this racist oppression continues today.

Forced into slavery in the 17th century in America, black people continued to experience racism even after slavery was abolished in 1865.

After that, Jim Crow laws did not recognize black people as having the same rights as white people, and separated black people from white people in public institutions (schools, buses, toilets, etc.).

Image reference: zinnedproject.org

In America’s history, there are many instances of black people being murdered. As a new parent, learning about the following injustice of the murder of Mary Turner in particular left an impact on me.

The murder of Mary Turner, who lived in Georgia in 1918.

On May 18, 1918, a man named Hayes Turner was murdered by a mob of white people after a white landowner was killed.

His wife Mary Turner denounced the mob who killed her husband and in response was murdered brutally by the mob. Despite being 8 months pregnant, she was lynched, her body strung up on a tree, set on fire, and her unborn child murdered.

In 1865, Article 13 of the US Constitution was passed, abolishing slavery. However, violent racism persisted and mob lynchings and burning of black people’s houses by the KKK (white supremacist organization) was rampant.

The Jim Crow laws that enforced racial segregation continued until the Civil Rights Law was enacted 56 years ago.

Discrimination is not a thing of the past, it continues today.

Image reference: humanevents.com

Today, many black people in America live with the fear of being arrested for no reason and beaten by the police, even in the midst of their daily activities whether it’s going out to take a walk, or even sleeping at home.

Article 13 of the Constitution abolishes slavery, but does not apply to those sentenced to prison.

Even innocent people or those who have been arrested for misdemeanors and who cannot afford bail are sentenced to work jobs receiving hourly wage of the equivalent of 15 to 150 yen, not eligible for social security benefits.

Percentage of population living in poverty (2018): 8.1% white, 20.8% black

Wealth disparity (2017): Median wealth of white households is 10 times that of black households

According to the statistical results from 2013 to 2019, although 76.3% of the American population is white and 13.4% is black, black people are three times more likely than white people to be killed by police. Of those killed by police, black people were 1.3 times more likely to be unarmed than white people.

Reference Reference: Mapping Police Violence｜Mapping Police Violence

And systematic racism afflicts black people today.

Please see this video for a summary of this project and institutional discrimination in below.

Discrimination in Japan

Many people may think that this has nothing to do with Japan and that racism against black people does not even exist in Japan.

However, it has become clear that across generations in Japan, stereotypes and prejudices against black people exist.

It’s theorized that in the wake of the second world war, one of the ways that Japan sought to bolster its reputation amongst Western countries was adopting America’s racist attitudes towards black people. In essence, they joined white America in viewing black people as the common enemy.

To this day, that affects how black people are portrayed in Japanese media, which all too often is via racist stereotypes and caricatures.

Why I decided to start this project

The murder of Mr. George Floyd on May 25th by a white police officer was the incident that moved me to do something.

After learning about George Floyd’s murder, I contacted a black friend, watched the video of the incident and read to try to understand what had happened and why.

Ashamed that I did not know about the suffering so many people experience at the hands of systematic racism today, I thought that I could do something and started planning this project.

If I want to help my black friend, I understood that I have to be part of systemic change.

I felt that systemic change requires the power of many, not just of a minority, not just of those in the United States, but many people all over the world, including Japan.

What I want to achieve with this project

For racism to be abolished and for our world to be one where no child or adult experiences discrimination or discriminates against anyone in any country.

With that in mind, I want to start by understanding and learning, and talking with others more.

So, I made a T-shirt with two artists to help start the conversation.

My hope is that through this project, through these Tshirts and artworks, people can discuss, share and learn.

Massage from Friend

I am so encouraged. Friends around the world are rising up. My friend Ayumi said when she started learning about systemic racism she was ashamed she didn’t know before. But by googling, watching movies, reading books, talking to friends, she is an example that we can always learn. It is never too late to learn. I am grateful, too, that she has so eagerly joined in doing the work, and sharing what she’s learning with others in her community esp those who are mostly Japanese-speaking.We shall over come!

Use of funds

T-shirt production cost: JPY 1500-2000 depending on the number of orders received

Transportation costs and tariffs from the UK: Approximately 20,000 yen

Return shipping cost: Approximately 20,000 yen (when 100 pieces are shipped by mail)

Kenzo's design fee: 25,000 yen (500 yen x 50 pieces)

All other proceeds will go to the Black Lives Matter movement.

Schedule of delivery

September 1 Preorder begins

September 30 Preorder finishes

October 1 Final order of T-shirts

Estimated shipping from Bar One Clothing in England in late October

As soon as Tshirts arrive, they will be shipped out in November

Donation made to the BLM movement after completing shipping of Tshirts in late November

We will announce the specific BLM organizations and report the total donation amount on this note, Bibelot's instagram account, and YouTube Hug Fuku Channel.

I will be placing the final order on October 1st, so please complete payment by then. Please transfer money to PayPal.

Collaboration T-shirt with Kenzo

￥3500

Collaboration T-shirt with artist Kenzo

After George Floyd's murder, I contacted my black friends, and was introduced to Kenzo, a black artist living in Ogasawara. A pointillist artist, Kenzo’s artwork is amazingly painstaking.

Only the stippled area is printed on the silk screen. Both men's and women's Tshirts will be printed on organic cotton Tshirts called Earth Positive, which are produced using only renewable energy. The material is very soft to the touch and comfortable to wear.

From KENZO This picture holds a lot of meaning for. I have never thought so much about a single drawing. It stirs up a lot of emotions in me.

The importance of black life does not mean that black life is more important than anyone. A symbol of unity, and solidarity. It’s about standing up for someone who is suffering. The person who cried "I CANT BREATHE". A person who is treated like an animal rather than a human.

This is not just an American problem. It affects the whole world.

Can you imagine a world in which you are afraid of the people who are supposed to support and protect you?

Even when they are victims and should be the ones receiving protection, they must fear their own lives from those who are supposed to protect them.

This is the world in which we, people of color, have to live.

But there is hope. People all over the world are standing up with us. With Black Lives Matter they are standing up for the right thing!

This drawing is meant to shed light on those who fought for us and keep fighting with us! It has a little history and represents what I think #blacklivesmatter represents.

With this, I hope you share it with your friends and help them get out of it. It takes a total of 139 hours to complete and is made entirely of dots. With each dot I thought of all the people of color who are suffering from oppression.

Collaboration T-shirt with NAO HIGA

￥3500

I asked HIGA NAO (Bonmu) to design the women's T-shirt.

NAO-san wanted to donate her work in support of the movement.

Nao's paintings depict brown-skinned women. For Nao, brown is the color of nature and is very beautiful.

NAO HIGA (Bonmu)

Born in Miyagi

After 10 years as a graphic designer and illustrator in Tokyo, she moved to Kumejima, Okinawa, and expresses the inspiration that she received from the natural scenery and life of the island through silkscreen.

She shares, “Currently, I am engaged in daily production activities in Yanbaru, where the rich nature of the main island of Okinawa remains.”

✴︎ NAO's thoughts on the project ✴︎

“While I have lived so far, I have witnessed scenes of discrimination, of varying severity, in various places.

My world started to move little by little as a result of these incidents.

I think the world will definitely change if each one of us can pay attention to what is happening.

And I want to leave a peaceful and bright future without discrimination for future children! With these feelings, I resonated with the aim of the project and so I wanted to participate.”

How to preorder Tshirts

If you would like support this project and reserve a Tshirt, please e-mail [email protected] (Please be sure to add this address to your contacts so that you can receive emails) If you do not receive a reply within 3 days, please check the settings again and resend.

To make your reservation, copy and past the following text:

① Kenzo or Nao Higa (Only write the designer whose Tshirt you would like)

②Size (Please choose from MEN’S: Small, Medium, Large or WOMEN’s: Small, Medium, Large) ③ Color (white or black)

④ Your name

⑤ Address

⑥ Phone number

⑦ Message of support for this project (optional)

(Please note that we may anonymously share your message on SNS.)

I will be placing the final order on October 1, so please complete payment by then. Please transfer money to the following account; Paypal

If you have any questions, please feel free to contact us.

Finally

I grew up in Japan and still live in Japan. I just quit the company and started a shop, so I can't afford it. But I thought there was something I could do for this problem. Nowadays, there are many people who do not have black friends around them, so many of them may not be able to catch themselves.

I think this is a story that is relevant to you when you think about the future, not the fire on the opposite bank.

During the internationalization, my child may marry a black man and his grandson may have dark skin.

I want my children and grandchildren to be rewarded for their efforts to avoid discrimination when they go abroad.

There are many social problems, but let's start from what we can do.

And many black people are still being treated badly and unable to get out of a difficult environment.

Analyze how you feel, investigate, talk to people, share on SNS, make donations, buy.

I think there is some courage in what you think of. I want you to be brave and take a step forward.

Many people have cooperated since the end of May. I've been working for this project, and I'm really happy to hear that I'm in agreement.

We hope that you can participate in the change in the world by empathizing and supporting us.

Self-introduction

Ayumi Konno

Born in 1991

Born in Hitoyoshi City, Kumamoto Prefecture Up to 6 years old Shizuoka City, Shizuoka Prefecture 6 to 18 years old Raised in Omihachiman City, Shiga Prefecture

I have a childhood friend with the blood of Brazil and Japan, and I want to talk to people from various countries who have an interest in multiculturalism by studying abroad in China in the first year of high school and have an interest in multiculturalism.

Going to Toronto alone at the age of 19 to study the dream of wanting to be a used clothing store

Worked for a secondhand clothing wholesale company in Toronto, but after being shocked by a discriminator, he left the company.

After returning to Japan, I want to go to a place with nature

Worked at a hotel on Iriomote Island in Okinawa, or settled in the mountain of Hakuba in Nagano

Volunteer in 2012 to visit Miyagi prefecture and meet her current husband and marry in 2014

Worked at an apparel company since 2013 and experienced recruitment with a store manager and personnel department.

I was planning to return to work after giving birth and taking childcare leave in 2019,

Decided to retire in 2020 and set up my own store in May

We are struggling to communicate social and environmental issues through clothes and books so that we can become aware of them

undefined

youtube

#blacklivesmatter #racism #discrimination #blacklivesmatterjapan

1 note · View note

fics-not-tragedies · 5 years

Text

Vanishing point: Chapter Two

prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight

We’re in the second chapter folks. Also Santino gives a guest appearance because I’m a hoe for him his character is the plot fuel.

Words: 3399; Warnings: some sexual tension and few angsty bits; Summary: Juliet and John decide to visit one of her oldest friend, so they can form a plan on how to assassinate Santino, but the man himself surprises them with his visit.

Readers tag list:

@mikaneonox; @keanu-fics; @spookier-than-u; @sparrowsparrow; @wickedlangdon; @bodhi-black; @derangedcupcake; @oreofenyloetyloamina; @geostarr; @catsmieow; @bugalouie; @onebatch--twobatch; @fandom-lover-4; @drunkonyellow; @semtempoirmaoo; @spadesandaces2342; @harrisongslimited; @a–1–1–3; @hhighkey; @lunilate; @i-cant-remember-my-old-login; @sgt-morgan; @coloursunlimited; @childrenofthegun; @weminiaturestrawberry;

The sun was peeking through the curtains and when ray of sunlight hits her face she’s awake. She’s not immediately aware of her surroundings but she feels the warmth of another body lying close next to hers.

She turns over as slowly as she possibly can, worried that her movement could wake him too soon. The sight of the man curled into the white duvet next to you pulls something in her stomach. He is so still but she can see how his chest rises with every breath he takes, she can hear his little snores. His mouth hangs open a little, his lips parted against the pillow. His hair lays round him forming some sort of blackened halo and it makes Juliet want to run her fingers through it. His nose crinkles a little when he inhales.

There were many years in which she wasn’t that intimate with anyone. Of course her greatest asset was her body and how she doomed every man that decided to fall under her charm, but this: the sight of John curled up close to her felt more intimate than anything she’s ever done full naked.

As she slowly shuffles closer to him, pressing her body against his chest, her hands touches his bare skin, feeling how his chest rise beneath her fingertips. His skin is warm, gives her this feeling of finally being in a place she could call home, after all of those years of being homesick. With little kisses pressed gently to his collarbone she wakes him up, but only a little, the mist of sleep still all over his mind. Few groans of approval fall from his mouth and it feels like he’s inching his still tense body closer to her.

John tilts his neck a bit, giving her a better access. She moves her lips across his neck, leaving little kisses in all those places she can reach.

“Can you remind me what we’ve done last night?” he breathes out after a moment, his voice still a little bit hoarse.

“Well… we got drunk. I tried to fuck you, but you just fancied sleeping more, so I gave up that idea and went to sleep too” Juliet shifted away a little, so she could look at him. His hair was an absolute mess and half lidded eyes were the indicator of how tired he still was, “We need to get shit done tonight, Jonathan. And also we still have to question that bitch who tried to kill us, remember?” upon hearing her question he mumbled few incoherent words and turned to the other side.

She sighed, moving closer to him, her hand firstly brushed against his ass, making him whiter a little, then she placed it on his hip and as she began to move it onward, he turned around to face her.

“What do you want?” John asked her, his eyes scanning her features wrapped in his white shirt, an imprint of her lipstick pressed into its collar, “Are you wearing my shirt?” he already knew the answer, but enjoyed the way she nodded her head crawling closer to him, “Keep it.”

When he stood up from the bed she let out a sigh full of disappointment watching him put his trousers on, getting ready to leave her room.

“How much time do you need?” she was lying on her stomach, her ankles crossed in the air. There was something in her eyes he couldn’t name, but it seemed like he saw this gaze in Helen when they were still dating.

“How much time do YOU need?” he fixed his belt and leaned closer to her. Juliet lifted her body a little, inching closer to his figure. Wick brushed his hand over her hair and she closed her eyes for a moment.

“Few hours, I need to eat something first. I’ll ring your room or I’ll ask Charon to do it for me” his hand stopped on her cheek and he cupped it just for a moment without leaving her room in silence.

This man still felt like a mystery to her.

- - -

After shimmying into the transparent material, smoothing it down her curved body and looking back at herself in the mirror while fixing her hair into a neatly formed up do, she coated her lips in the universal shade of Russian Red. There was nothing else to fix, since she did the rest of her dark evening makeup beforehand.

John was standing by the door, waiting impatiently, holding his breath when Juliet stepped out of the room, the doors swinging close behind her, with eyes shining brightly, the view of her taking hold of him instantly, his gaze flickering down her body.

At first glance, it looked like she wasn’t wearing anything at all. It was simply a shiny transparent fabric that made up what was actually on her body but for the most part, it looked like someone hand painted crimson colored roses right onto her soft skin, accentuated them with shimmer silvery parts, covered the shape of her breasts beneath those flowers, the dress itself barely covered anything, left too little to the imagination, her entire body was right on display.

He sucked in a breath he didn’t realized he was holding since the moment he walked from her suite,“I thought I told you to get ready” he stated, his eyebrow raised in irritation, his lip stretching slightly.

Juliet’s eyes widened, “I’m ready” she said, tilting her head slightly as she slowly approached him, her sandals muffled by the carpet. Probably a new pair, black with outrageously high heel, sprinkled with silver dust and sharp studs in matching shade placed around the heel, “This is my favorite, I love to get things done in this one” she added, twirling around as she moved closer to him.

“Oh yes, I can tell which things you have in mind, but…” he scanned her figure with his gaze again wetting his lips, “No.”

She furrowed her brows, swallowing. The appreciation in his face when he looked at her when she walked out of her room was too obvious. Of course he liked the view he had right in front of him, all he had to do was to reach out with his hand and he could graze her skin with his fingertips. His eye twitched slightly, his hand balling into a fist, “I told you that you were supposed to be a distraction, but that’s not what I meant.”

Her lips parted slightly, then closed, a big smile forming on them and she took a small breath, biting down on her bottom lip, “Am I too distracting for you, Jonathan?”

“Yes, you fucking are” his jaw was tense, eyes still glued to her figure, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to wear… this type of… dress.”

Her gaze darkened and he licked her lips again, taking a step closer to him, “What’s wrong with it, Jonathan? Ti piace ciò che vedi?”

John swallowed hard, his skin stretching over his Adam’s apple and he pressed his lips firmly together. There was no way he was going to take her out in public the way she looked now, not because he didn’t like the way she looked, but because he liked it too much, and he was too scared it could lead to many other things he wouldn’t like to do, simply for Helen’s sake, “Everything… I mean, uhm-” she took one final step closer to him, pressing her body closer to his and he stumbled backwards, his back hitting the wall.

“I know that you like what you have in front of you” she touched his thigh and he flinched, “credimi, Helen wouldn’t mind you doing things to other women, I know how much you want me, amore.”

He looked her in the eye and there was a fire burning in them, her gaze dark, lustful. His mind was spinning, but he couldn’t find anything clever to say.

“I’ll wait downstairs then” she stepped into the elevator, checked her lipstick in the tall mirror, then pressed the button for the doors to close, a satisfied smile spreading all over her lips when she saw that John finally moved and caught up to her, standing by her side. He was glancing at her from the corner of his eye, trying not to get caught on staring too obviously, but she knew he was doing that and the smile on her lips appeared yet again.

The ride downstairs passed in silence, the Concierge gave them a nod of acceptance as they were passing him by, the only thing audible on the way to the car that was already waiting for them were her heels clicking loudly on the entrance steps, and Wick just simply couldn’t help but look at the dress now, as he was walking behind her.

It was the only thing he could see and think of since the moment she appeared in the hallway dressed in that mirage. He tried to maintain his composure, to not give in to her lethal charm, but in fact he had a really hard time doing so. He was taken aback, not by the way he looked, because it was too clear, but by the way she was so sure of herself, it was almost unbearable now, and he couldn’t form a coherent thought without being distracted by the dress. Everyone at that damned place would be distracted too and it all will probably end with men killing each other just to lay their hand on Juliet’s body. And it seemed like he would be the first one ready to drew his gun out.

John opened the passenger door for her, “Grazie” she spoke in her sultry tone and he couldn’t took his eyes from her when she gracefully slid inside his car.

Juliet could feel how tense he was when he started the engine and she touched his arm that was carefully gripping the steering wheel. She outlined the visible veins with her fingertips, causing a shiver that ran down his spine. They both were surprisingly silent, the air between them filled with electricity.

He was afraid to look at her, because the sudden urge to kiss her pouty lips was clouding his mind and he’d much rather keep his eyes on the road. But she was close, too close, the musky scent of her evening perfume overwhelming his senses and for a moment he thought that someone bought her those fumes, that it was the scent HE picked up for her.

Was he getting jealous? No, he couldn’t be...

Even though he was still mourning his wife, there was something hypnotic about Juliet, something about her magnetism that led his thoughts to her, even when Helen was still in the back of his mind.

“We’re here” his voice was emotionless, even if deep inside he was at war with himself. She waited for him to open the passenger doors, then gracefully as she always was, she got out of the car with the helping hand of his, which she held onto.

The bouncer just nodded when he saw her and let them inside. The lights were dimmed, but she noticed that the interior design changed. Few good years have passed since the last time she was here. They have re-decorated it all; wallpaper on the walls seemed darker now. They've changed all the lights and the bar's now down the side with a set of neon lights placed behind glass cabinets filled with various liquors.

Juliet could feel all of the stares that were piercing right through her. She felt more fierce than ever and this see-through dress was only adding up to her self esteem. Everybody was looking at her and her only, no one else counted in that moment.

They sat by the bar and ordered two glasses of bourbon, “Is Marco here?” she asked the waiter that was serving them. He only mumbled barely coherent ‘no’ and moved back to his duties. She looked at Wick, giving him a questioning look.

“I’ll look outside then” he said, patting her back lightly, his hand burning her skin even though it wasn’t hot. It was the feeling she got every time he touched her.

John walked away and she could see how the bouncer closes the doors behind him. She finished her drink in a hurry and tried to follow him, move outside to breathe some of the fresh air, but someone was quicker and didn’t let her go.

It was Santino who grabbed her arm, stopping her from leaving. She spun around and looked at him with tears in her eyes, “Please don’t.”

“Please stay with me mi amore” he almost begged her, it seemed like he could fall onto his knees, clinging onto her legs, not letting her walk away.

“Don’t hurt me again, Santino… you’ve already done it and that one time was enough, trust me.”

“But I know you still love me, Julietta.”

“Santino, please” a single tear rolled down her cheek and he wiped it with his finger

There was only one thing dancing around his mind. Only one thing that he wanted in the whole world was to simply hug her. To wrap his arms around her waist tightly, press her close and feel the warmth of her soft skin. That was all he wanted now.

She looked around, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of John’s face, but he was nowhere near to be found and the Italian man notices how she was scanning the crowd with her eyes, “He’s too busy right now, he won’t save you like you saved him, mi amore.”

“Santino, please” she focused her gaze on his face, “just let me go” her soft tone was desperately trying to plead him into leaving her alone.

“Talk with me, Julietta, that’s all I want from you bella.”

He led her to one of the booths, watching carefully as she slides onto the leather settee placing one leg atop of the other. Then he moves close to her, pressing his thigh onto hers, leaning his whole body in her direction.

“I don’t know what on earth you want from me after all of those things that happened in our past…” a waiter placed a bucket filled with ice at their table and she stopped for a moment, waiting for him to pour the champagne in two glasses then place the bottle into that bucket. Her hands were shaking a little when she took the glass into her hand, gulping down all of its contents in one try. She recognized the very familiar, but almost forgotten aftertaste of wild berries with the chocolate hit. It was her favorite one. The one he always bought for her, the one they bathed in together.

With this one glass everything she thought she forgot came back and she was consumed by the sinking feeling that made her heart collapse under its own weight.

“I want you to come back, principessa” she snickered hearing his words and placed her glass onto the table with a loud clinking sound. Twitching a little, so she could face him and stare directly into his eyes, she cupped his face in her hands and he melted into her touch, pressing his face further into the warmth of her hands.

“Last time I saw you, Santino, you were one hundred percent sure that I’ve betrayed you, making one of your henchmen cut my back open, almost ripping my spine, because how you’ve said then I needed di imparare una lezione. And now, surprisingly, you think I still love you. No one with a normal functioning brain would love another person if they did something similar to them.”

D’Antonio was looking at her with eyes wide open, mouth slightly agape. She caught him in a crossfire with her words and he had no idea how to respond to them.

“I’ve made a terrible mistake, amore” he spoke after few moments of silence and she let go of his face, leaning back onto the settee.

“You can’t turn back time and undo all of the wrongs you did, Santi” the pet name made his gut turn and he took a sip of champagne from his glass, “and my love… my love to you won’t change anything, mi hai fatto male.”

“Principessa please, come home with me, I will make it up to you…” he tried to grab her hand, but she flinched it away from his reach.

“I’m sorry Santino, I don’t have home anymore” Juliet got up with the intent of walking around the table and leaving the place, but he stopped her again, gripping her waist tightly.

“Ti prego, non lasciarmi” he plead, with puppy eyes, almost begging her not to go. For the first time in years she felt like somehow she was finally over him, over his lies, over all of those things he did to her and how he hurt her. But she still wanted to get her revenge.

Then suddenly John storms back inside.

His face is bruised and cut in severe places, his hands look like he just beat the shit out of at least a dozen of men. He was furious, she could see it in his walk, in the way the lines on his forehead were too clearly visible when he approached their table. Juliet was afraid he could took one step too far and kill the Italian mobster here - in a place where his associates hang out and if he’d done it they wouldn’t get out of here alive.

“Oh, Jonathan! Is such a pleasure to see you” in a sing sang manner Santino greeted Wick, gesturing for him to sit with them, his one hand still gripping Juliet’s waist.

“No, thank you, we’re leaving. Right now” he grabbed her arm, trying to steal her away from D’Antonio’s reach, but he clung onto her tightly not letting her go.

“Haven’t you been taught that it’s rude to steal other kids’ toys?” the mobster asked him, making John let go of her arm and clench his fists together, like he was more than ready to beat the shit out of him as well.

“So that’s what I was to you, another toy, nothing else… E sono stato così stupido di amarti” she mumbled, leaning her head closer to his ear, so he was the only one that could hear her words.

“Did she provide you with her servizi already?”

“Her services?” John returned the question then moved his eyes to Juliet. Her jaw was tense, teeth gritted, both of her hands clenched tightly into fists. The dark look on her face meant that either way she wanted to punch him or strangle him right at the spot.

“Did you fucked her, Jonathan?” he opened his mouth to say something more, but before a single letter could leave his lips her hand met his cheek with a furious manner. His head dropped backwards and she slapped him again, before he could react to what she did.

“Bastardo!” Juliet shouted, brushing his hands of her body and walking around the table, so he could be free of him once again. But she walked over to Santino, not close enough, so he couldn’t grab her again, “After all of those years you treat me like a fuck toy?” she raised her hand like she wanted to slap him once more, but stopped it mid air when she noticed how Santino flinched in his seat.

He was rubbing his cheek with his own palm, trying to ease the stinging feeling from her slaps. A giggle left his lips making her jolt forward to him, but John’s arm wrapped around her body stopped her from moving.

“You don’t own me Santino” she pointed her finger towards his face, “and I owe you nothing! Siete un idiota senza valore che non merita di vivere!” her scream filled the whole room and every person turned their head towards them, wanting to see what’s going on.

Juliet broke away from Wick’s grip and ran out of the club, leaving the two men alone. Santino just raised his glass like he was presenting a toast to John, then took a sip from it, “Good luck with her” he spoke calmly, pouring himself another round of champagne.

53 notes · View notes

nctrenjunie · 5 years

Text

Posessive~ Haechan(M)

Author: Sera

Pairing: Haechan x Reader

Warnings: If you have any problems wit mature content written about the nct 00liners, just don´t read it.

Comment: I don´t know if it turned out that well since it´s late and i´m not in my right mind to really understand what i wrote… i´m tired sry. Also i´m really conflicted like I like cinnamon Chewinggum but it can also be to spicy but I still prefer it more than mint Chewinggum because it tastes like cinnamon. Well I need sleep..bye

Request: Can you do a “Hate fuck” with haechan???

You weren't surprised by the decisions your parents made. It was pure business. Not only for them but also for you. Someday you have to take over your family's business, like everyone else in your kind of world. Arranged marriages between different mafia groups weren´t unusual. You just wondered why it had to be him.

Loathe. It was the first feeling you felt for him. More likely resentment. The car races you attended weekly before you had to learn more about the business, came back to your mind. You remembered the day clearly. The familiar smell of gasoline and asphalt entered your nose, unusually accompanied by a light scent of cinnamon. Forgetting about it, the car races started. You felt high. The feeling of speeding up and racing through the finish line made you feel unreachable. Everyone was gone as the morning started to show itself. You were about to race one last time alone, before going home as a black car parked next to yours. You haven't seen it around, darkened windows so you couldn't see who was driving.

“What about a last ride babygirl?”

You couldn't even see him but his cocky voice made you boil with anger and the want to win became bigger. Trying to stay calm you answered with a quick chuckle, as you turned on the motor. Starting at the same time you started to laugh as you noticed the difference between both of your cars, yours being way advantaged in comparison to his. Your thoughts, sure that you would win by now didn't notice his car speeding up, passing yours. He took you down from your euphoria, shocked at his speed you started to concentrate again. You took advantage of the place you had to nail the curve, speeding up again. Ramming his car a tiny bit as you pass him you are the first again. Staying concentrated you speed up to the limit. You pass the finish line, turning around once again. You were angry, someone really could win against you. You rode straight ahead, making a full break before both of your cars would hit.

Getting out of your car you walked to his car, putting your hands on the cars hood. You still couldn't see anyone because of the darkened windows. Suddenly the door opened. He looked handsome. His tan skin looked like it got kissed by the sun while the tips of his hair, falling on his forehead were a little wet. Still, you needed to hold your composure. Yes, it was resentment what you felt for him, a big smirk plastered on his face as he knew how angry he made you, even tho you won.

“Who are you?”

“Everyone calls me Haechan, but you babygirl, can call me Donghyuk if you want.”

“What a pleasure.”

The sarcastic tone in your voice could be clearly heard. You were too tired to deal with some guys bullshit now as he already made you pissed enough. Without any words you were about to go back in your car and drive home, as Haechan grabbed your wrist, pulling you to him. Your chest bumped against his while his other hand went up to take your chin in it. Pulling your head closer to his, only now you notice. It was him. The smell of cinnamon that came through breathes out of his mouth bringing you back to the start of the night, remembering the smell. He kept on chewing his gum, not breaking the eye contact between both of you.

“ You know Y/N, the moon goes down so the sun can rise.”

Confused by his words, you stared at him perplexed, trying to figure out what he meant. Haechan loosened the grasp around your wrist, looking you deep in the eyes before he turned around, driving away in his car.

And now here you were. At your own engagement party, more seen as an event to get contacts between the families, with your most hated person that was also your fiance.

You couldn't forget his satisfied look that day, he pulled you out of your own euphoria, from winning. His sassy attitude, allowing himself to act like he could do what he was pleased to do. Even tho it has already been some years since that day.

The second time you met him wasn't as worst as the first time, nevertheless you felt the urge to jump on him, to choke him to dead. Yes, the first time you found out you would be marrying Haechan you were angry but thinking about the time that has passed after your first encounter, you thought both of you could behave normal and just marry without any problems. You thought. But the second time you met him, he behaved the same way he behaved at the car race. The smell of his cinnamon chewing gum getting into your nostrils, as he approached you. Your hopes for a normal arranged marriage splattered, as you saw him walking over with the same annoying sassy attitude as last time. Even the conversation that was only meant to get to know him or just for paperwork tired you as he commented everything with some annoying worlds.

To summarize it, you hated him. Still it made you feel something. It was the third time you met him now, at your own engagement party. You were sitting at the bar, exhausted from greeting everyone as you spotted him in the crowd. You didn't notice at first, thinking he was just talking to god knows who but as you looked clearly he talked to a group of women. It bothered you and you didn't even know why. You kept staring at them, trying to figure out what you felt. His eyes met yours for a millisecond before you turned around asking the bartender to fill your glass again. Jealousy, no it can't be. Pushing away your thoughts you gulped down your wine.

The party kept on going, now and then some of the guys around sat next to you, telling you boring stories as you tried to look interested. You sipped from your wine glas as another men sat next to you. Trying to stay polite you greeted him and both of you started a conversation. You didn't expect it but he was kept you entertained since he wasnt as boring as the other ones. The conversations kept on going, the thoughts about Haechan already forgotten as you suddenly felt an arm slip around your waist.

You looked back. Haechan pulled you closer to him, intertwining one of his hands with yours as he glared at the guy in front of you. His head wandered down so his lips went down to your neck, leaving a light kiss making you shiver by his touch. Haechan pulled himself up again, looking deep into the other mens eyes.

“Sorry to interrupt your chat, Sir but my fiance and I have something important to talk about.”

He got the hint. Awkwardly bowing down before both of you he turned around, leaving you both alone. You were about to ask him what all of this was about when he interrupted you.

“ I think we have to talk a bit, babygirl.”

He sounded angry. Pulling you through the crowd both of you entered a bathroom. Locking the door behind him, Haechan pinned you against it, holding you deep in his grasp. He looked you dead in the eyes. He looked pissed and you didn't even know why. After some seconds, Haechan still didn't let you go, coming closer to your body. You lost your patience starting to resist against his grasp.

“Why are you always so annoying Haechan? Just let me go.”

You kept on telling him to let you be as you started to grow impatient. Haechans head fell back in his neck, eyes closed. His head got up again, landing on your shoulders. He started to breathe loudly, the smell of his cinnamon chewing gum getting back in your nostrils.

“ Cant you for one fucking second shut up Y/N, or is that too hard?”

Shocked by his words you stared blankly in the room for some time. Haechan pulled you by your wrist, throwing you against the bathroom counter. Putting your arms around his neck, he seated you down on it. Positioning himself between your legs, you tried to pull away. Haechan took hold of your wrist while pulling his face even closer to yours.

“ Possessive Y/N. Im fucking possessive. Do you think you can just talk to every men on your own engagement party in this tight dress while your fiance is watching you. You look fucking hot and imagining you with another men makes me want to kill them all.”

His words made you wetter than you would like to admit while Haechans hands touched over your whole body, trying to feel every piece of you. His hands went up to your face, taking your face in them fixating your eyes on his.

“ Fuck you Haechan, you did the same. Do you think I didn't notice you talking to those womens earlier, I just...I.. I hate you.”

You were confused, your mixed feelings driving you crazy as you started to touch down his body. You wanted to talk it into your head. That it was just desire or maybe you drank too much, it doesn't make sense, having feelings for Haechan. You hated him and he hated you right?

Haechan smirked. You let out a yelp as he started to touch over you pussy, feeling how wet you already were. Loosening his tie and unbuttoning his first three buttons, Haechan started to sip his finger under your underwear, touching over your folds.

“ If you hate me that much babygirl, who are you so wet for?”

Haechan started to slip one finger in your core, his lips leaving traces along your neck. Your hands went down from his shoulders pulling his jacket off, letting it fall down on the ground. The moans that slipped out of your mouth started to grow louder with every move he made. You looked down on his crotch, his big boner in his suit pants clearly to be seen. His finger pulled out of you as he entered you again. You let out a loud yelp as he started to finger you with two finger while you pulled your hands over your mouth. Controlling your moans you pulled him closer to you. Your hands went down, working fast on unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down with your underwear. You started to move your hand up and down his shaft, sweet moans leaving Haechans mouth. Precum leaking out of his tip landed on your fingers. You pulled your hand up, Building eye contact with Haechan as you licked your fingers clean. His hand went up to your mouth pulling your fingers out of your mouth, bringing your hand back down to his dick. You started bobbing your hand up and down his dick, his hand on yours, putting pressure on it. You looked at his plump lips, taking the hint, Haechan started kissing you into both of your moans. Going down with your lips you left hickeys on his neck. Suddenly Haechan pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing. Getting closer to you, you felt his dick sliding up and down your folds. Your hands went up into his hair, pulling lightly on it.

“ Im gonna fuck you like the little whore you are baby.”

Sliding his dick into you, both of you started to moan out loud. He didn't let you adjust, already starting to ram in a fast pace into your tight pussy.

“Oh my god baby you are so tight...fuck..”

He didn't stop. Sad about the already approaching orgasm, Haechan pulled you even closer to him. His thrusts started to become sloppier still ramming hard into your pussy. You started to moan out his name making him laugh into his moans.

“ Call me Donghyuk..baby... fuck i'm so close.”

Both of you were already on the edge. Moaning out his name Donghyuk pulled you up from the counter leaningyou against the wall, ramming deeper into you. You were about to cum and your walls clenched around his dick.

“Oh look at that babygirl… your pussy is recognizing its owner. Nobody can fuck you as good as I can baby...No one will ever treat you as well as I will babygirl. Now...cum with me.”

You screamed out his name as you came around his cock. Still ramming into you, Donghyuk spilled his seed in your pussy, trying to catch his breath. You feets touched the ground again, Donghyuk catching you by your waist as you almost fell down. His forehead fell against yours, the prominent cinnamon smell mixed with the scent of sex filling your nose.

“I hate you Donghyuk.”

“I hate you too Y/N.”

#nct smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct 127 haechan smut #nct dream haechan smut #nct haechan smut #haechan smut #nct smut blog #nct hard hours

420 notes · View notes

minichedders · 5 years

Text

st.valentines day massacre 0.1

mobster!bucky barnes x reader

February 14th, 1929.

Gang warfare rules the streets of Chicago, anyone who was anyone knew that if you even whispered the name Al Capone, it wouldn't be long before you were shot or deemed crazy. He was rising to the top of the mafia, he was gradually taking down his enemies, along with the probation, helping him to build his empire, he grew to be a ruthless king. The passage of the 18th Amendment in 1920 meant that all the mafia groups increased earnings through bootlegging, speakeasies, gambling and prostitution. Capone’s income raised well over $60 million a year, he was one of the richest and powerful men in America.

Since 1924, Chicago had been a lawless and violent place; it was called the ‘reign of Scarface’; he was ruthless and did anything and everything to get rid of his enemies and rivals, all except one. The Irish gangster George ‘Bugs’ Moran…

10:25 am.

Your heals clicked along the street, impractical for the cold weather you thought, though your long fur coat was keeping some warmth, under it your favourite green dress. Your dad had convinced you to go round to the Michaels for brunch, however, opposed you where, he practically shoved you out the door, Mr and Mrs Michaels where both pushovers who were pushing you and their introvert son to get married, and apparently your opinion doesn't matter.

10:30 am.

You head tilted back as you admired the white sky, hoping that small snowflakes would soon fall. You loved winter, as it gave you an excuse to stay inside by the fire, and not have to socialise with men and their mothers that boasted about them, or the snobbish wives that had foolishly agreed to marry only because of the money benefits. You believed you were the only person in the city, or world, who wanted to marry for love, not benefits. Before your thoughts could carry you away, a speeding car drove past, abruptly stopping outside an old looking warehouse; what confused you where the three men who exited in police uniforms, and another 5 that stepped out of another car in black suits. Your interest was picked and your walking slowed, you had not yet reached the warehouse, but you could already hear muffled shouts, and a few seconds later, gunshots.

You stood still, mouth agape, even though you shouldn't be so shocked, crime was basically unstoppable in this city. But never would you think that you would have to encounter something so closely. As you where regaining your breath, a man from across the road, someone you had not seen get out the vehicle, even though he was leaning against the bonnet, started walking towards you and calling for you. You froze, not knowing what to do; there was no point in running, not in these heels, plus, he has already seen your face, and knows that you had just seen their faces. Oh, you were so screwed.

“Ma'am?” He called again, his deep voice digging into your skin, making goosebumps crawl along your arms, shivering as they formed. Your head turned back towards him, seeing his face close up, almost losing your breath again; he was beautiful, dark hair, chiselled face, and a tall lean body which looked perfect in that pinstripe suit. If you were in any other situation with the man you would've jumped to joy, finding the perfect Valentines to the day.

Your ears began ringing, buzzing at the sheer closeness of the attractive man, and for a split second you felt as if the rest of the world blurred around him; that was until multiple gun firing in the etching warehouse tore your body limb from limb, panic coursing through your veins like a drug.

“Um, yes?” You said, trying to act as innocent and normal as you could muster, you couldn't die, you couldn't leave your father, not like this. You noticed his gaze drop down your figure, which was noticeably shaking, whether it was from the coldness of winter or the terror that currently ran through your body and soul you were not sure; he looked back into your eyes, the blueness of his reminding of when your father took you to the ocean when you were younger, they almost filled you with warmth, until you heard more calling and shouting.

“Buck! C’mon!” One of the men exiting from the warehouse shouted, making the man in front of you turn his head back, giving them a wave of his hand.

“I’m sorry about this miss, but you are going to have to come with me,” He said, taking a hold of your forearm, gently tugging you to the car; you were too cold and shocked to fight back, and the fear of not knowing what he might do scared you more. Stupidly, you let him push you into the passenger seat, and when he ran round to the driver seat, the three men shoved in the back began clapping, you already felt sick but their whistling and dirty comments made your stomach twist; until than man called Buck told them to shut up, which made you feel less queasy, only just.

11:22 am.

After driving in silence and tension, you arrived at a large house in the forest; the abundance of cars and bikes at the door already told you that this was obviously the mafia house, which only heightened your fear, all the worst possible scenarios where running through your head. You knew that they weren't going to kill you, not yet at least, they wouldn't have bothered to bring you to the house if they were, they were probably going to use you, which terrified you more than a bullet between your eyes.

As the men poured out of the car, you stayed still. The idea of moving seemed almost impossible as you just stared at the big blue house, envisioning all the dirty old men that lived in there, and the possibility of young girls being held unwillingly. A tear started to sting your cheeks as you let out a sob, not noticing the door beside you opening and Buck wrapping his arms around you, lifting you up and carrying you in the house, purposefully avoiding all the busy rooms and corridors. You were still in your dress and coat, which was now slightly damp from the frost and the tears that had fallen on the front, and you could feel your heels slightly slipping off the tips of your feet, although you were now too tired to adjust them. Buck turned into a room, large and messy, and placed you on the bed, slipping the shoes from your feet and neatly placing them on the floor. You both stayed in silence, apart from every so often when your sobs would unwillingly break past your dry lips.

The sight of any women crying made Bucky's heart twinge, but growing up in a ruthless world and business, he knew that if you wanted anything, you took it with no hesitation. And Bucky wanted you from the first moment he laid eyes on you.

"Why am I here, please, I won't tell anyone," You said in between broken cries, bringing your knees to your chest, curling yourself as small as possible; trying to remain an unwilling victim, too scared to look into the man's eyes in case you might slip into a lustful teenager.

"Because you are a witness, how am I supposed to trust a woman that walks the streets of Californa by herself. You are obviously reckless," Bucky replied in a rather harsh tone. He was lying. He just wanted you, to hold and protect forever; he knew he was foolish, how was she ever supposed to love her captor? Bucky sighed deeply, sitting beside her figure, watching as she winced at the gentle touch of his cold fingertips against her back, even with the layers of clothes on, you could still feel the jolt his touch sent to your body. you weren't supposed to react like this. But the longer he kept drawing small patterns on your back, the warmer you felt towards him, relaxing only slightly as the tears stopped flowing down your face. You understood why.

"How long are you going to keep me here?" You asked, hesitantly, scared of his answer as he took minutes to reply, his fingers now still.

"Until I can trust you," He replied.

"Please, Please, I need to be with my father, he's ill, he can’t live without me," You said, lying. Your father wasn't exactly ill, he was just old, but you were true when saying he relied on you for everything.

"I'll have someone look after him don't you worry princess," Shivers. There it was. The wrong reaction to being nicknamed by a member of an infamous Mafia. You watched his dark, muscular figure rise, walking out the room, leaving with a distinct click, clearly locking the door. You ran around the room, checking the windows, all locked. No weapons, unless you smashed his head with a lamp. But anyway, you knew there was really not any kind of escape. You were in a house full of Mafia members, ruthless and dirty ones at that. You hated to admit it but this room was probably the safest place for a couple of miles. As well as that, if you did manage to escape, you know Bucky would probably go through the ends of the earth just to find you again, and possibly kill you.

Happy Valentine's day to me.

353 notes · View notes

ain-t-bovvered · 5 years

Text

14x15 Commentary

Special episode where a bunch of tired and caffeinated Europeans ( plus a sleepy American) scream together, and then die and try to get on with their day ( lol AS IF)

Hello and welcome:

@purpleskiesandcherrypies (Nat)

@dean-winchesters-bacon (Kat) good night babe

@waywardbaby (Zee)

@ain-t-bovvered (Giulia)

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Giulia: Oh the music is the stupid episode kind of music

Nat: awww

Zee: Baby dean

Giulia: THE WHIMPERING

J: I didn’t want to leave it there. And I didn't want to just kill it.

M: I’m looking for a new home

Giulia: I can be your new home bb

Nat: NO

Giulia: I DON T TRUST IT

Zee: Bamf Jack!! Two words I never thought I’d use In the same sentence

Nat: We're in Lawrence aren't we

Zee: In what year?

Scooby doo matinee 2$ . WHAT

oh look a Metallica poster. I still have that CD

Giulia: oh look My aesthetic

Giulia: That James Dean vibe tho

What’s this stupid music.

Zee: Charming acres???

Nat: "Where Everybody's Happy" Are we in Pleasant Ville?

I don’t trust shit.

Zee: Splash

See..?

Nat: Brain-mush

Giulia: CLEAN AISLE 3

Nat: Well, good morning to my breakfast

Giulia: TRUEST REACTION on supernatural EVER

Giulia: he loves that snake

Nat: SNAKY

C: *knocks* Hey Jack?

J: I’m good Castiel. [OMG DAAAAD stop breathing on my neck]

C: [sigh, semi-soulless teenagers]

Giulia: What’s up with the all black

C: How's the snake?

J: I don't think he's feeling well. He won’t eat.

well...doesn’t snakes eat rarely tho? like....once a week or something?

Zee: He misses his previous owner

LOOK AT THAT CUTE FUCKING SOFT SMILE . FUCK YOU MISHA

C: He's been through a lot of changes in a short period of time. I guess that's something you have in common.

Nat: He's going dark

Zee: Concerned dad

C: Jack, you killed Michael. You consumed his grace.

Giulia: I. DON T. TRUST. THIS. DID HE THO?

but also.....right now I’m that granny that mistook Cas for her 3rd husband , : “you are so pretty Charles”

Nat: I feel different now.... YA THINK

J: You want to know how much of my soul I had to burn off to kill Michael.

Yeah fuck I wanna know ok.

Nat: How could he know?!

Giulia: can’t cas look it up

Nat: He could stick his hand in there.

Giulia: HE COULD

Nat: That sounded wrong

Giulia: IT DID.

Zee: Deep inside. There I made it worse

J: I try not to think about it.

BAD.

I don’t like that hollow stare Jack, I swear to fucking god Imma slap your soul back into your body.

so I’m listening to the ep with my headphones and BOOOOOOY DID I HEAR THAT SIGH [cranking up the volume to the max and goes back]

Nat: I could eat him alive. And the sandwich

A wild Castiel appears.

C: Oh. Thought you, uh, were gonna sleep until the cows dragged you home.

D: That's not the -- Never mind.

THE *claps* DOMESTICS *claps*

AWE Cass asked about Rowena. [ what was the ship name again? Rostiel?, Caswena?Witchywings?

AWE CAS ASKED ABOUT SAM. [SASTIEEEEL]

D: I think they're both full of crap.

Of course they are, this is Supernatural. Cue painful montage!

*jazz hands*

Giulia: Poor sam

Zee: PTSD

Nat: Sammy :(

Giulia: They were his people

Sam and his fucking trembling lips

Nat: Aw Baby let me hug you

[Dean eating]

Giulia: Das me

Nat: I'm still hungry

Zee: Damn that mouth. It’s big

Giulia: What does it do tho ? wiggling eyebrows

Zee: It eats!! Everything

S: Yeah, well... I'm leaving in ten.

C: Maybe I should go with him. And you can stay with Jack.

me : GASP YES

D: Why do you think he'll talk to me?

hE ‘S YOUR SOOOOON!

C: Well, because he looks up to you.

Dean don’t you roll your eyes at your hub. It’s impolite.

D: I was not great with Sam, you know, when he was, uh...

STOP right there. Don’t give me flashbacks

D: Well, how am I supposed to figure that out?

Cass, your Misha is slipping out, put that voice back into the cave it came out of

C : Just talk to him. Get him to open up.

Audience : * SNORTS * yeah riiiight

C: Sleep until the cows come home.

D: There it is.

C: That's the saying.

*CLAPS* DOMESTICS

Nat: I'm hungryyyyyyyy

Zee: We’ve established that Nat

Nat: I mean.... APART FROM THIRSTYYYYYYYYYYY

Giulia: I’m eating nuts

Zee: I bet you are

Nat: Nut juice. Food against hunger and thirst. New Bumper sticker

Awe Cas is driving BB. [but where is the pimp mobile]

S: I'm good, honestly

C: YEAH I KNOW EVERYBODY IS GOOD

UUUUUH Cas baby, get me all tingly with your sarcasm

Also write that under the series main title as a warning really.

SUPERNATURAL : EVERYBODY IS GOOD

Listen Sam, baby, I can hear your voice breaking, stop with the bullshit.

C is like....you can fill so much bullshit in that moose body

S: we don't have as many Hunters as we used to.

OUCH

Zee: Cas learnt how to use his badge

Giulia: Lame

Nat: "We're FBI..."

Look how cute my baby is...look at him *sobs*

C: Was it more "Scanners" 1, 2, or 3?

OH WOW, IS CAS BEING DEAN RIGHT NOW? (because I’m all for it.)

Giulia: I bet dean made him watch that.

Nat: Charming Acres

Nat: I don't wanna live there

Giulia: I DOOOOO

Zee: It’s creepy ffs

Nat: It's all shades of fucked up. I mean, look!

LOVE IT

C: It's like we're stepping into a Saturday Evening Post. I look at them sometimes after you fall asleep at night. They're very soothing.

I had to google that , not gonna lie. Also....HOW FUCKING CUTE IS THAT?!

Giulia: DEM HAAAAAIR THO.

Giulia: FOXY WIFE

Zee: Foxy wife

S: What was that?

Giulia: i love that time, minus the racism and patriarchy and the war.

Nat: What is wrong with these people

Giulia: Living my dream ok

Zee: Oh shut up babe

Nat: I don't like perfect

Giulia: Cas and his bed hair

Giulia: DEM MILKSHAKES. I BET THERE IS SOMETHING IN THERE

Zee: Something fishy, lass

Sammy likes them milkshakes tho

Is it just my impression or Cas is running out of fucks this season?? I love it.

FLATFOOTS

Zee&Nat: We take care of each other.

mmm, don’t like that

Zee: Don’t like the way that sounded

Giulia: suspicious

Mayor: They said something about an aneurysm or something?

Zee: His head exploded

Nat: His head exploded

Giulia: OH NO HIS HEAD EXPLODED

Zee: Gotta love Cas

Giulia&Nat: Like a ripe melon on the sun

Giulia: GOTTA LOVE HIM

Sam panicking.

S: "Like a ripe melon on the sun"?

C: It was an apt metaphor.

As I said : Angel out of fucks

S: Okay, well, maybe next time try to be a little less...apt.

C: The entire town is so strangely picturesque.

Giulia: I KNOOOOOW! , Can I go there?

Zee: NOOOOOOO

Nat: We wouldn't let you

Giulia: Dat dress.

Nat: Bonding time

Jack just gave the snake the cookie crunch , sobs so pure....for now

J: I think he’s sad

Nat: Have you tried bacon

Bacon....the solution to everything. I mean....not wrong, it’s delicious.

Giulia: so dorky

Sniffs Chinese food

D: Well, anyway, you and the, uh, snake...want to go for a little dri-ive?

gets mice .

Nat: mice scare him?

ok but Dean is that squeamish sometimes . It’s hilarious.

...because the mice scared me and I need confort. Also I’ll probably avoid Chinese food for a month so there’s that.

Nat: Ahhh... Jack really talks to that thing

Woman: Not people. Men. I only rent to young men. It's not proper -- young women living alone?

Nat: MORALS. GOTTA HAVE MORALS

*looks at Castiel*

Woman: You know.

...C i like....what

me: sHe fLirtS

Nat: Ya still wanna go there, @Giulia

Zee: She’ll say yes

Giulia: YEAH. Y’all can’t stop me

Zee: See? I’ll tie you down bitch just watch

Nat: Ya CAnT LiVE oN YOuR oWn

Giulia: I’ll work at the diner

Time for some SNOOPING

Giulia: So much hand porn for me

C: - they're...surprisingly passionate.

Sam with a tiny ass cup ready for some gossiping: Passionate how?

Castiel without a speck of blush: She spends, uh, quite a bit of time talking about the -- the shape and the heft of his --

Zee: Such a tiny cup

Please tell me there a DICK PICK in there lol

S: It's getting late, Cass. And you're right. I-I probably need some rest.

oh noe

C: You want to stay here?

S: Why not? Ms. Dowling's making pot roast.

OH NOE

Nat: I can smell head explosion

Zee: I can smell the bleach they’ll use

Nat: And there you go

Giulia: NICE I can live in that fantasy idc

Nat: You won't have us

Giulia: I wouldn’t know

Zee: Impossible. We’re seeped in your bones

Giulia: You can’t miss what you don’t remember

Nat: Yo head's going to explode when you remember, Giuls

D: Why don't you grub up? We still got another couple hours.

J: I'm not really hungry.

I DON’T LIKE IT

D: Give him one of these. I bet he's never had that before.

DEAN NO

J: I don't think you have a firm grasp on what snakes eat.

Zee: Uncomfortable dean

D: Yeah, I always thought they were kind of cool, though.

Nat: Aww...adorable Dean

Giulia: I thrive out of these moments

Zee: Road trip with dad

D: Mm. Well, it's not the snake that's dangerous. It's their...bite.

J: Is -- Is that a saying?

D: It is now.

Nat: hahah... is Dean looking with one he's going to pick?

Nat: Dad move

Giulia: Was that really a way to test jack? With CAKES

Nat: Dean move

Sam’s room is empty

Giulia: Weird Sam time

Zee: Not good

Nat: I told ya

Giulia: Das me jamming

Giulia: He so awkward

Giulia: HALLO!

Giulia: No i don t eat.I'm looking for my partner.

Mrs B: Oh. The very nice, the very tall fella?

Castiel angel of the lord? more like Castiel angel of I’VE RUN OUT OF FUCKS

Mrs.B: Hm. He said he's going for a walk. [pause ] And a milkshake.

Giulia: Still me jamming, ‘He’s got tan shoes with pink shoelaces’

Nat: yeah i mean, what's with her. all of a sudden a new husband?

Nat: My partner

Giulia: I’m looking my partner

Nat: The tall man - yes the very tall man

Zee: The very tall. Man

Giulia: I WOULD HAVE DIED. CAN HE GRAB MY HANDS TOO

Nat: Mr smith is gone long live Mr smith

Giulia: I would like a martini yes

Zee: I was waiting for this

C: Hair? ---He has beautiful hair?

Giulia: HE HAS

Nat: he has beautiful hair

Giulia: BEAUTIFUL HAIR

Giulia: THIS IS COMPLICATED . Cas is like...... WHAT IS THIS I WAS NOT PROGRAMMED FOR THIS. PEOPLE . PEOPLE SKILL. NOT FUNCTIONING .

Giulia: OH LOOK THAT’S MY MOM

Nat: what

Nat: the

Nat: fuck

Giulia: i’m loving this cas

C: I'm so sorry, but last night, his head, um --

Giulia: he had to pause

Giulia: That laugh was creepy

Nat: How about that martini?

Mrs. Smith : No...my husband he’s good.

[ SNORTS ]

Nat: OH god... no I need a drink

Nat: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Giulia: ...

Nat: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Giulia: EW

Nat: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Nat: That pony tail

Zee: I don’t like this

Giulia: THAT’S SWELL

Nat: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO JUSTIN NO GOOD

what’s up wITH THE FUCKING POT ROAST ?

Nat: Honey, make me one too! Dammit

Giulia: SAME I NEED 5

Zee: A round of martinis please

C: This is not your house.

Justin!Sam :

Justin!Sam : You're right. This is my wife's house. I am simply living here.

Giulia: OH YOU

C: Something terrible's happened.

you right, those hair happened

Justin!Sam: I'm feeling adventurous.

Nat: Rawr ?

Giulia: NO

Giulia: I CAN T

Zee: I can’t process

Justin!Sam : So that's a no-no on the hooch?

I think Jared had too much fun in this. I WANT ALL THE BLOOPERS PLEASE PLEASEEEEE

Giulia: I’m laughing so much

Nat: You watch your mouth

Giulia: SIR U WATCH UR MOUTH

Zee: Skedaddle

Nat: I don't wear a hat , dammit I.... uh

Zee: Bitch

Giulia: WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT

Justin!Sam : Sir, using language like, uh, "H-E-double hockey sticks" --

Nat: Wash your mouth out with soap?

Giulia: GUYS, I haven’t had this much fun on spn in a long time.

I can’t breathe

Zee: I’m dying here

Nat: Double hockey sticks?

oh....OH.....I GOT IT NOW....GOLLY...WHAT THE HECKIE

Nat: STILL WANNA LIVE THERE?

Giulia: YEAH SHUT UP

Nat: ZETa

Zee: What?

Nat: Giuls is willing to leave us and go live there

Giulia: I LIKE THE AESTHETICS

Zee: As I said. Not possible. The amount of the insanity that she has shared with us won’t let her

Donatello : Ah, I am just the picture of health. Except for my prostate. It's shaped like a papaya.

...THANK YOU BB

also...do you guys think the Winchester get their prostate checked? or do they call.....Doctor Novak? (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)

Nat: Dena really doesn't like snakes. Dean. Not Dena. Well, maybe Dena too. I wouldn't know

Giulia: We don’t judge

Zee: Never

Giulia: I LOVE HIM

Giulia: God sister snacked on it

Giulia: That’s a big ass cup

Nat: That's a big cup

Zee: Black hole

Giulia: ...

Giulia: This succession of texts is cursed

Nat: Not going there, Giuls

Zee: Again. I concur

Giulia: I ain’t said shit ya pervs

Zee: YET

Nat: You were thinking it. That's enough

Zee: ABOUT TO SAY IT

Giulia: You two were thinking it too , get off that high horse

Zee: offended gasp

J: And when it was gone, how did you -- how'd you feel?

Donatello: Like...the galaxy. You know, Jack, our galaxy's all bright and shiny and spinny, but in its center lies this very large black hole.

Donatello: I'm all bright and shiny, obviously. Not so much spinny But inside? Empty.

Donatello : Losing your soul doesn't make you bad It doesn't make you anything. It's, um... an absence of...of pity, of empathy...of humanity.

J: I know I don't feel...nothing, but I don't feel the same, either. And maybe I just don't know what nothing feels like. Mostly, I just don't want Sam and Dean and Cass to worry. I just -- I need time and space to figure things out on my own, but everywhere I go, there's someone looking over my shoulder.

Giulia: I get that boo

Nat: MAKE ME CRY JACK

J: Sam and Dean are the best men I know.

Nat: FUCK YOU. I'M CRYING

Donatello : whenever you don't want them to worry just think "WWWD" -- "What Would the Winchesters Do?"

Giulia: Pew pew pew pew pew pew. That’s what they’ll do. Sex stares. Bitchfaces. Bacon. Rocking off. Kill monsters. BOOKS.

Zee: Kicking asses, taking names

Giulia: Kick names , take ass

Nat: there goes giuls

Zee: Oh babe!!! Right there

Nat: I should not engage in this convo because it's going to be dirty

Zee: He’s not like you?!

Donatello : I suppose the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a soul?

D: Donny.

Donny: What?

Nat: He seems ok

Nat: SEEMS

Donny: Jack's probably the most powerful being in the universe. [Creepy music starts to play....I sweat] I mean, really, who knows what's going on inside his head?

Giulia: I like donatello

D [ with the anxiety of a thousands suns ] : ...thanks

Zee: Erotic musings

Giulia: Cas saying “steamy” and “erotic” is making me tingling

Zee: Rip it from your ...

YOU KNOW WHAT HE CAN RIP OFF ME THO?

Nat: BAMF CAS

Giulia: And this too

Nat: Of course it's him

Zee: What are you ?

Nat: Sam's so tall

Zee&Giuls: The squint

Zee: Giuls shut up

Mayor: and no matter what I did, people would turn to drink or drugs, they'd move away.

Giulia: Oh boo hoo .Let me do drug in peace.

Mayor: ...And you know what happened next?

C: No, but I have a feeling you're gonna tell me.

[I’m all out of fucks anyway ]

Giulia: THE SNARK

C: I won't hurt you, Sam.

Justin!Sam: Golly, I told you my name is Justin!

Giulia: GOLLY

Nat: Justin!Sam is this a thing now?

Giulia: i hope

Zee: Giuls. That’s all for you. Cas kicking ass

Giulia: I know I’m sweating. Look at this shit

H O T

Giulia: NO IDC ABOUT THEM LEMME SEE CAS

C: Fight this!

J S: Why? I'm happy in Charming Acres.

Giulia: THAT’s US

Nat: That's us against Giuls

C: Sam, I know you want to be happy. And I know what it's like to lose your army. I know what it's like...to fail as a leader, Sam. But you can't lose yourself.

You have to keep fighting.

You can't lose yourself, because if you do, you fail us. You fail all of those that we've lost. You fail Jack. Sam, you fail Dean.

Nat: make me cry

Giulia: omg I’m crying

Giulia: I’m cryiiing and I’m tired of seeing Cas and that fucking blade like that ok.STOP IT. [ going into MOC Dean ptsd ]

Zee: Lool

Nat: OH no no brain explosion please

Zee: I’m god

Giulia: We met god. God has a beard

Zee: God has a beard

Giulia: God is ma dad

Nat: NO

Giulia: YAS QUEEN

Zee: I like her now

Giulia: make his head go splat

Zee: Vegetable

Giulia: Psh lame

Nat: hey, not bad huh?

Giulia: Laaaaame

Zee: You needed the splat!

Nat: you know lame when you get there giuls

Zee: Nat. We’ve established we won’t let her

Giulia: BuT ThE dREsSeS

Giulia: God dean

Nat: Dean stop being adorable

j: It was...illuminating

D ... the fuck, stop talking like your angel father.

D: Heard you wore a cardigan.

C: Yeah, I told him about the cardigan.

S: Great. Thanks.

D: And the wife.

Giulia: What about the ponytail

Giulia: Wait, Cas and dean talked about it on the phone [dies]

D: Well, not a lot of happy goin' on around here.

Nat: Wow, Dean feel a stab in his heart

S: I hate this place right now. I hate it.

S: Everywhere I look, I see them. I see Maggie. I guess that's why, uh -- why I was so desperate to get out of here, why I kept running us ragged. But I got to stop that. I-I can't keep running. I -- This is my home.

This is our home.

Dean, I think I just need some time.

Giulia: Yeah same

Nat: Sammy babe

Zee: How couldn’t they have

Giulia: Awe this is the hurt Sammy season. Again

D: Okay.

Giulia: STAPH

Giulia: WITH

Giulia: THAT

Giulia: LOOK

Giulia: JARED

Zee: Sam needs a million years in therapy

Nat: You need help

Giulia: NO

Zee: Oh no

Giulia: I DON T LIKE IT

J: Sam and Dean would help you, so -- so I'll help you.

Nat:. Nah, Dean wouldn't

J: I'll help you see your friend again.

Giulia: FUCKING

Nat: No

Giulia: NO

J: In Heaven.

Nat: What

Giulia: JAAACK

Nat: Jack

Giulia: THank god cas saw it

Nat: Wtf

Zee: Yeah. That wasn’t good

Giulia: Oh shuttttt uuuup

Giulia: PROMO

Zee: Dean in a suit. Alien vs predator

Nat: Creepy, me likey

Giulia: Eh

Nat: OK babes, i gotta go. Nat: See ya! it was a pleasure.

Zee: Always

Giulia: Go have some milkshake

If you want to get tagged in the future ones send an ask HERE or to @waywardbaby or a smoke signal, idk whatever I’m tired af.

TAGS: @wayward-angelgirl @destiel-honeypie @mariekoukie6661 @dragontamerm @closetspngirl @rainflowermoon @mattiecat @bunnybaby121115 @aliaitee2 @jacks-word-of-the-day @4evamc @dammitsammy @legendary-destiel @winchesterprincessbride @destielhoneybee @castiellover20 @jacks-word-of-the-day @ravenhg @evvvissticante

#14x15 commentary #spn 14x15 #14x15 spoiler #peace of mind #14x15 peace of mind #Episode commentary #spn episode commentary #spn commentary #commentary

37 notes · View notes

the-marvel-imagines-blog · 6 years

Text

Madness | Chpt. 1

Requests are Open

Chapter Title: “The Warrior”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Word Count: 4,795

Warnings: mentions of character death, drinking

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer”

A/N: I had my fun with this and took a lot of liberties while creating this story. You will need to suspend your disbelief as I have taken some stuff from (mainly) the cinematic universe but also the comicbook universe as well as stuff from my own imagination. Please note, also, that this story has some original characters and that the beginning takes place before the events of Iron Man 3. I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it so far.

I stood with a glass filled to the brim of Hjalmar’s favorite Asgardian ale. I never enjoyed the taste, but it was strong enough to get a man three times my size drunk, so I was going to need it. This was what we did after a battle. We had grand feasts and told stories of the battle we fought. Most of us would falsify how many we killed or exaggerate how graceful we were on the battlefield. Hjalmar was no different. He had stood taller than the God of Thunder himself, yet he was no God at all. Hjalmar was a simple warrior, but he was one of the best. The battle on Vanaheim claimed a few Asgardian lives, but none had been greater a friend than Hjalmar was to me. The drinks I consumed during the feast would be in honor of him.

As soon as I rose from my seat, Thor’s eyes, blue as Midgard’s oceans, landed on me. As he became silent, the entire room died down. Normally, I didn’t have much to say, but the prince-with hair as gold as the King’s throne-always knew when I had something on my mind. When everyone’s eyes followed Thor’s to land on me, I began to speak, “tonight, we sit at a table with places set for absent friends. Each battle that claims a life of one of our own also claims a piece of ourselves. Hjalmar was my closest friend, and his heroics on Vanaheim will be remembered by those who loved him...as I did,” I smiled in fond remembrance as my eyes lowered to my drink. The energy in the room was buzzing, even in the silence. I could feel the life surrounding me, and it gave me the strength I needed to gaze around at the faces in the room. I raised my glass, ale spilling out and trickling down the side, “so, brothers, I urge you to drink heartily for the fallen, and take pity on those they will conquer in Valhalla!” I exclaimed.

Cheers erupted from the half-drunken men. They shot up from their seats with glasses raised high and cheered before drowning their own sorrows in drink and celebration for the lives of our friends. Before I could drink, my eyes met those of my prince and childhood friend. Thor’s eyes were filled with understanding because he was one of the only people to truly understand just how much Hjalmar meant to me. Even in my darkest moments, when I felt completely isolated, I still had Hjalmar. Now, that security was gone. He raised his glass to me, and I did the same to him It was a mutual understanding. Aaldir-the man who raised me as his own-took in Hjalmar when he was just an orphan boy, roaming the streets of Asgard. He raised us both, and I saw Hjalmar as a brother and best friend. Hjalmar and Thor trained together during their childhood and fought at each other’s side in battle. My heart broke for Thor just as much as it broke for my own loss and sorrow, Hjalmar had been with me through my darkest nights, and now...he was gone. I didn’t know how I could face the only father I ever knew when I felt so much shame over the loss of the closest thing to a son he ever had. And Thor. The sorrow in those blue eyes cut me like a knife. I wanted to sob into my drink.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I tipped my head back and chugged the ale that left Hjalmar on the floor some nights. There were times when the massive drunken man would be held steady on my shoulder as I led him back to the house after a night of feasting and drinking. Tonight, I would have no one to carry home. Just the thought of it brought tears to my eyes, and I finished my glass of ale, tossing the empty cup to the side. I walked away from the noise and out into the fresh air. As I stared out into the vast universe, I wondered if he could see me. I wondered if he could understand that I hated him for leaving me to live the rest of my life without him. I wondered if he could understand that I still loved him with every fiber of my being because he was the only family I ever had. The thoughts clouded my mind so heavily that I almost didn’t hear the soft footsteps behind me. However, I was always aware of him. Thor. There had only been two other people I was more in tune with, and I couldn’t even bring myself to say their names anymore.

As I leaned against the railing of the balcony, Thor stepped beside me and copied my stance. I felt his gaze on the side of my face, almost like he was trying to read me like a book. I shook my head, strands of hair falling from behind my ears. My heart felt like it was being torn in two, “none of this feels right. Valhalla wasn’t ready for Hjalmar, and I’m not ready to let him go,” I confessed, tears filling my eyes once again, “I just...can’t close my eyes without seeing it,” I added, turning to face the golden-haired God of Thunder.

Thor’s hands cupped my cheeks, and I leaned into his warm touch. The only other man to make me feel so safe was...him, and that comfort died when he used his power to torment and murder the Midgardians without a hint of guilt. I fought back the tears, never wanting my prince to see me as just another hopeless maiden. Asgardian women were meant to be strong. We gave life to the God’s, so were we not stronger than them? I could not show my weakness to Thor, not now, not when he lost so much, “you should not worry yourself with things outside the realm of your control, my lady,” he spoke, stroking my cheek with his calloused thumbs, “Valhalla received a great and glorious hero when Hjalmar walked through those doors. He will continue to fight and drink and eat as he always did in life, and there will come a day when we’re all together again. I understand he was one of your closest friends, but he died a valiant death, and you will see him again in Valhalla someday,” he reassured me.

I pulled away from his grasp and stared down at the streets below where I was beaten and abused for defending my prince. Not Thor. Him. I shook my head, my bottom lip quivering and, in my eyes, resurfaced unshed tears for a man that died long ago, “my sorrow is not only for Hjalmar. I think of-” my breath hitched in my throat, and I swallowed back the sob that threatened to shake my body. I swallowed and grimaced, fighting back the need to shed tears on behalf of a man who caused so much destruction but tried to protect me from it at the same time, “I think of how your brother was dragged through the streets of Asgard in chains...like he was an animal.”

“I do not enjoy seeing this, either, but I’ve tried to think of it like a hunter coming back from a successful hunt. He will speak of it for weeks after. While my father may be taking this too far, he does it out of pride for our accomplishment. You, me, and the heroes of Midgard brought my brother to justice, and this is my father’s way of rejoicing” he tried to explain. Thor always did his best to soothe me. Seeing that his words did nothing of the sort, he continued, “his treatment will not upset you so much if you can remember what he did on Midgard.”

“How could I forget it?” I snapped, suddenly angry that a man who knew me so well assumed that it would be possible for me to forget something so tragic and so deeply disturbing. I could remember seeing him on Midgard. I could remember the pain and fear in his eyes when they met mine. He still wore green, and a part of me resented him for it. The man I knew was still alive beneath the hatred and anger he felt. What could one do when the person that holds the largest piece of their heart poses the biggest threat to all they hold dear? Life. He destroyed so much of that while on Midgard, and I could not forget it. It would be a my most haunting memory for the rest of my days. My eyes lowered as I realized how wrong it was for me to be upset with Thor when I did not feel any true anger toward him, “it all seems like...like a nightmare that I should be waking up from. None of this seems real anymore,” I explained.

He reached down between the two of us and grabbed my hand in his much larger one. His long fingers intertwined with mine, and, as I looked up at him with concern for the sudden motion that would undoubtedly draw attention to the two of us, he smiled down at me, “come with me” he urged, giving my hand a gentle tug in his direction. We began walking, the sleeves of my dress and his black robe that draped over his broad shoulders hid our hands from the prying eyes of the warriors who were still feasting. There had already been whispers of who his queen would be when he assumed the throne, and the moment he was seen with any acceptable woman, it would be scrutinized. I did not wish for my relationship with one of my greatest friends to be jeopardized over something so trivial.

As we walked out of the sight of the crowds, he pulled me closer to him. Soon, I found my arm looped through his, and we walked together toward the forest. I glanced up at him, taking in the view of the man before me. I couldn’t deny his beauty. Each day I knew him, he grew more and more beautiful, and there was a small piece of me that wondered what it would be like to be the object of his deepest affection. Still, I could only entertain the idea because an even larger part of me would be...his. I shook the thought from my mind as we made our way to a small clearing in the forest. At the very middle of the field of green was where I would sit most days, my back leaned against the most beautiful and unique tree of them all. We all knew it as “Life’s Tree.” The trunk was as brown as the earth with flowers lining the branches overhead. I glanced up at Thor, “why did you take me here?” I asked.

He smiled down at me as he sat against the tree as he had so many times before. I would bring him to that very spot so many times in our childhood, and I would sit with him. As we grew older, he would find his moments of peace and solitude in the forest with me, but nothing compared to the moments I shared with him underneath that tree. They were moments of pure peace and beauty. It was when our lives were much simpler, when it was no worry how long we were wrapped up in each other. He was no prince in the eyes of Odin, but he was my prince, “these woods are your home” Thor answered, breaking me from my train of thought, “in over a thousand years, do you truly believe I haven’t noticed you singing to the trees? Odin claims time and time again that this forest is healthier now than ever before, that your presence has helped it thrive,” he stated.

“The king...your father has always been more poetic than most,” I exclaimed, smiling down at him before I lowered myself onto the ground next to him.

He chuckled to himself as his gaze flickered up to the flowers on the tree. The red and white petals caught every hint of starlight, and it spilled down onto the two of us, specks of light illuminating his face to me, “I asked my father the story of this tree once, especially why the leaves do not fall like the rest and why it is unlike the other trees in this forest. He told me that a long time ago, this used to be a simple meadow. No trees and no life could be found here. Then, one day, Death itself planted this tree beneath the biggest star in the night sky, and her tears watered the sapling. No one touched the sapling from that moment on, but it still grew and brought up the most beautiful forest in all the Nine Realms with it. The red flowers symbolized the violence and bloodshed of death, and the white represented the purity and innocence of all life at the beginning. The reason why it never withers is because these two forces have danced together since the beginning of the universe, and it will continue long after you and I cease to exist,” he murmured, recalling the story with fond memories of this place. He stared down at his hands that were folded across his lap, “your problem is not that my brother was taken through the streets as much as it is you cannot visit him.”

I shook my head in disagreement even though my heart knew his words to be true. For so many years, I tried to pretend that I didn’t care about him. When he betrayed Asgard and tried to kill Thor on Midgard, I tried to forget the man he was before. When he fell from the bifrost, I tried to forget the joy he brought to my life. When I saw him on Midgard, I lied to myself-told myself that I didn’t want to save him. I still did. I wanted to do it for myself and for him...and for her. My sorrow grew, “there is no part of me that wishes to see your brother. I care not of him but of the safety of Asgard,” I lied.

Thor saw right through me and challenged me, “then why does Odin’s treatment of him trouble you?” he asked, his hand grasping mine as he often did when he could feel my sadness. Too many people believed Thor to be a lumbering oaf, but he was so intelligent and so intuitive. He could read me like an open book most of the time. He was so compassionate and pure of heart. His mere existence made me want to cry tears of joy as he was one of the most selfless and heroic men I knew. In every moment I felt unsure of myself, his support was something as small as squeezing my hand, or it could be as extravagant as lifting me up off the ground with shouts of celebration. He was not only a hero to the Midgardians. He was mine, too.

His gentle squeeze of my hand was all it took for me to come up with the right words to articulate what I truly felt, “locking away someone like...him is dangerous, especially when he is given no time to visit with others. Think of how much hate and filth is in those dungeons. A man like your brother is sitting in that cesspool, soaking it all in. He’s listening and calculating. That anger within him is festering, especially when he has no one to put out that raging fire in his heart. He’s becoming more and more dangerous the longer he sits down there. I only fear for the safety of my home and the safety of my people,” I explained.

“The people of the Nine Realms are safe because of his sentencing. He hasn’t tried to break out of his cell thus far, but if he does, we’ll be ready for it. And may the gods take pity on any being who should go up against the likes of you,” he assured me with a soft chuckle to lighten the mood. Upon seeing that I couldn’t even muster a smile, he frowned,“you have a heart too kind for this world and all others, Lady Eva. You are a beacon of light that people look to, and you have lightened the darkness in my own life time and time again. I know that you seek to find good within my brother, but after all he has done, after all the destruction he has left in his wake, he deserves none of that compassion. Deep down, I think you know it’s true. That’s why you have not spoken his name since the battle of New York. I love my brother, but I cannot forgive him for what he has done to both the population of Midgard as well as what he has done to you. He has caused you so much distress and sorrow, so much pain and misery. I cannot trust him with the people of Asgard, and I certainly cannot trust him with you, my lady”

“Do you know what it’s like to feel lonely, my prince? Do you know how it feels to walk through the forest with the trees being your only friends? Do you understand how it feels to sit next to the water and listen to it splashing against the rocks because that’s the only way to drown out the voices of those who have hurt you? Do you understand what it’s like to wish for a table full of friends and family who love you? I do. Your brother does, too,” I explained, trying to make Thor see that before he tried to take over the throne, his brother was gentle. He enjoyed causing mischief, but he needed some way to release his sorrow and grief. I continued, “you think that he pushes people away to hurt them, but he does it because he’s afraid of hurting them. He has been told all his life-since we were children-that he is an abomination, that he’s no good, that he doesn’t belong here. What do you think he sees when he looks in the mirror? He knows what he is, and he knows he’s capable of hurting others, so he pushes them away before that can happen. He has tried to protect us just like you’ve always tried to protect me. The man we knew before is still alive inside that man we saw on Midgard. I know it, and I’m going to bring him back,” I added.

“You have enough hope for the both of us, my lady. You’ve always had a heart big enough for every living thing in the Nine Realms combined. I just wish to see you at peace. You have worried for him long enough,” he stated, recalling the many times in the past when I would fret over the raven-haired God and how the Asgardian people treated him. I worried about him more than I ever did myself. When we were on the battlefield together, I would put myself in harms way for him, but he did the same for me time and time again, so I owed him, “will you be okay with just your own company tonight, Lady Eva?” he asked

I saw the reflection of my green eyes in his blue ones, and it made my heart ache even more than before as I thought of the countless moments the same thing happened between myself and him. His eyes were the purest shade of blue, brilliant and deep. I nodded my head, suppressing some of my most beautiful memories to keep myself from feeling the pain of his absence, “the trees will watch over me through the night. Like you said before, this forest is my home,” I answered.

“Sing a song for him tonight-for both of them, as I know you miss her just as much,” Thor suggested, knowing that I needed some way to process. I couldn’t go home to face Aaldir, and I would isolate myself for the time being. Singing to the trees had always been something that I used to soothe myself, and it helped lift the sorrows of death from my heart.

My fingers brushed against his hand. The only thing I desperately wanted in that moment was to feel the touch of another, and if I had it my way, I would’ve been speaking with the man who was the polar opposite of the God of Thunder. If I had it my way, I would be sitting beneath that same tree, braiding his black hair away from his face. Instead, for that moment, I had to settle for the possibility that I would never see him again. I glanced up at Thor, “will you be listening?” I asked in reference to his suggestion.

He smiled and stood up from the forest floor. I followed him, my deep green gown straightening itself as I rose. His eyes softened as he gazed down at me, “I’m always listening,” he assured me, leaning down and brushing his lips against my cheek. I felt like crying. I loved Thor with every inch of my heart. He was one of my greatest friends, and I wouldn’t trade him for the world. However, I needed him. I needed him in that very moment. After all I had lost that day, I needed to know that I wasn’t losing him, too.

When Thor pulled away and leaned his forehead against mine, I felt the familiar trembling in my knees that I did before he first kissed me in our younger years. It was not the first time I had been kissed, and it was not the last, but it was a moment of clarity the two of us shared with each other. As he smiled at me, I couldn’t help but allow my sorrow to melt away just in that moment. I was brought back to a simpler time, a time when I didn’t know as much of the cruelty in the Nine Realms as I did now. I was oblivious to so much of the pain that humanity experienced. I didn’t know true sorrow until I gave my whole life away. Now, I was clouded by the pain and suffering so many living things experienced in their lives, and it tore me apart. However, as I stood there with Thor under the light of the stars, I was brought back to the simple moments, like when he told me that he could see all Nine Realms in my eyes or when he traced the constellations on my skin in the silence of the forest. Or when she first smiled at me.

After Thor’s silent retreat back to the castle left me in the forest alone, I gazed up at the white and red blossoms of the tree before resting my palms against the trunk. The energy from the tree flowed through me, and I passed my own energy into the tree. I closed my eyes and felt the essence of the whole world at the tips of my fingers. I felt her sorrow as if it were my own, just as I felt her joy as if it were mine. To me, the world was alive, and there had never been a day when I took her gifts for granted. She was mystical and wonderful. She sustained each of us, giving of herself every single day for thousands and thousands of years. I mourned with her when she grieved for those lost in battle, for she provided for them until their last day, and she didn’t like saying goodbye. Just as I mourned with her, she did the same with me, too. It was as if we were one and the same. I knew that a part of her felt sorrow and grief for the same strange reason I was. It was because of him.

As I thought of the other beautiful moments of simplicity in my life, the moments of purity, he was in so many of them. Even though he had been stripped of his innocence so long ago, there was something that held him together. Even though he experienced so much prejudice and cruelty in his early years, he maintained his positivity through our childhood and early adulthood. My prince, my prankster, my friend. Malevolence surrounded him the last time we saw each other in New York. I saw a man who killed my best friend and took his name and face. He wouldn’t even look at me during his sentencing, but I couldn’t help but wish he had. My peaceful moment with Thor was meant to be with him. Every single moment of my life was meant to be spent with him. I did not hate him for the hurtful things he said to me on Midgard. I did not hate him for pushing me away time and time again. I hated him for taking away the one thing that made my fight worth it. I hated him for making me care so deeply for him, that the rest of the Nine Realms disappeared when he was with me. I missed him with my whole heart, and I made up my mind in that moment. I would save him even if he didn’t want me to.

*Loki’s POV*

As I sat in the dungeon, books strewn across the floor, I dared to close my eyes. Every time I did, I could see her green ones staring back at me. I could still see the fear and anguish that struck her when she saw me on Midgard, and I wished for her to simply kill me. The pain became more and more unbearable the more I closed my eyes. I could not sleep without dreaming of her, without contemplating how my actions ruined her. My mind was no longer my home, and I wished for her to just put me out of my misery. Every time the dungeons fell silent at night, I could still hear her whisper my name under her breath. I was brought back to Midgard, and I could still feel the pain my actions caused her.

The dungeons had not fallen silent just yet, but I hoped that the guards would come down soon to quiet the other prisoners. I clenched my jaw, a piece of me wishing for the noise. I could not bear to hear her disembodied voice anymore, the sound of her cries still echoing in my mind. I had not seen her shed the tears, but I heard them on our way back from Midgard. The guards had pushed me along, and she stayed behind me, comforted by my older brother who deserved someone like her. I certainly didn’t. I knew that if the silence fell to leave me with her voice in my mind, I would fall into the pit of madness I knew so well. The cell I was imprisoned in had already seen enough of my fury.

Suddenly, a soft melody cut through the shouts, and my heart dropped to the floor. Everyone became still. The prisoners stopped banging on the walls of their cells, the guards stopped speaking with one another, and everyone stopped yelling. Everything fell completely silent-so silent I could hear the guard from across the room shift his weight onto his other foot-and we listened to the song.

“Now, the stars shine brightest wherever you are, and they will shine on me no more.”

It was her.

The voice, the beautiful melody, the sorrowful lyrics-it all pointed to her.

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes to welcome sleep for the first time in days. Still, I could not fall asleep. When I closed my eyes, I saw hers, and they were filled with tears. They twinkled as they fell from her green eyes, like stars falling from the night sky. She was in mourning. I could feel it. I felt the way her heart was breaking, and there was nothing I could do about it. There had been so many moments that I would run to her aid when I felt her pain and anguish, but this was one of the many moments when I wanted to be there with her, but I couldn’t do it. She didn’t need me, anyway. I was a monster, and she was...not. She was my friend, my princess, my love.

My Eva.

71 notes · View notes

zu-daba · 5 years

Text

A Great Cry in Zul’Gurub

This is war.

And so, Alliance, I understand what you have done. War is ugly.

Some of you chose to let us leave. Some pursued us across the seas.

But you let us live.You let us return.

And so you must understand what we are going to do to you.

We will bring to bear horrors beyond your imagination.

We will kill your friends, your family. Your young and your old.

There will be no surrender, no quarter, no mercy for the injured or captured.

There is only escape, or death. I pray to my loa some of you will be wise.

I pray to Lukou those of you who are not will receive respite..

But mark my words, Alliance. This is war..

And if you stay in my city, I will paint it red with your blood.

“Oi, lad, sod off!” The ashen dwarf growled at the elderly human standing before him. “I’ve got work tae do. It’s a logistical nightmare out here, we’ve got trolls chargin’ back into th’city an’ reports are sayin’ we’ve lost the old infirmary.”

“My SON was in that infirmary, you heartless Dark-Iron..” The human’s grey brow furrowed as he spoke, “If my son has died to those savages, then--”

“Save it, before ye say something you’d regret.” The Dark Iron eyed him critically; pointing a finger towards the north across Zul’Gurub. “We just sent another group in. A good group’ve ‘em, so don’t go givin’ up yet, lassie.” The dwarf waved the human away, kicking back in his chair and grabbing a tankard from nearby to quaff of. The air out here was awful and far too humid, but having a good ole pint Grim-Guzzler style was welcome reprieve and reminder of home.

It was all just noise to Captain Curtis. A veteran from the 2nd war, the knight was one of Stormwind’s finest. He’d seen the atrocities of the orcs during their rampage, as well as the wreckage of the internment camps during their various rebellions. The antics of trolls weren’t much different, especially up north nearby Zul’Aman. Zul’jin’s forest trolls were simply another breed of brutes, and while he’d heard plenty of horror stories of old Zul’Gurub, the human knew that its present residents were not the trolls of yore. They were not Jin’do, or the Blood Lord Mandokir. They had no blood god or the high-priests of their faith. They rolled them over on their first trip through the city, and they’d do it again. For good, this time.

“Captain!” The elderly gentleman called out. Curtis sighed and turned towards the fellow, his gravelly voice responding quietly. “Yes, Thomas?”

“When did we agree to start getting bossed around by dwarves?” He asked, earnestly, with a hint of subtle humor. It was a ploy to hide his worry and fear.

“When we came to this accursed jungle to help take revenge on some tusk-apes, I imagine.” Curtis replied with a gentle chuckle. “Getting cold feet, soldier?”

“You know I don’t do that, Guard-Captain.” Thomas replied shortly. “Withersfield might have died in that crash, but we of Lakeshire stand strong. We don’t hide from any monstrous ilk.”

The man was jolted by Curtis slapping him on the shoulder and steadying him there, “Ain’t that just the truth. Listen, Thomas.. I know the dwarves aren’t much comfort, but soldier-to-soldier, I bet your boy’s fine up there. Best in his barracks, studying with the Church of the Holy Light.. What’d the clerics tell you?”

“A few broken ribs,” Muttered Thomas.

“A few broken ribs? Soldier, we both took worse from sparring matches. He’ll be fine. We’ve got our finest healers up in that infirmary helping Skaldrean’s medics. He’s in good care.” Captain Curtis offered a reassuring smile, then fished a flask from his side to offer towards the soldier. Side-eyeing the stern dwarf nearby, he snickered when he heard Thomas taking a generous gulp.

“It’s hard not to be worried... He’s my son-- He’s all I’ve got left.” The man murmured, “You think Withersfield would be ashamed right now?”

“You want my honest answer?” Curtis murmured.

Thomas nodded in response, his expression listless.

“I think he would’ve left by now.. I mean, all this for a kodo charging over a bridge--” “More for the rest of them.” “-- Fair.. But, every day, this feels more like the Commander’s conflict.. Not ours. We should be in Kul’tiras, or on Zandalar. Fighting the Horde.” He held out a hand to retrieve his flask from Thomas, putting it back on his belt.

“You’re not a bad Guard-Captain yourself, Curtis. I think he always wanted you to succeed him. When we get back to Lakeshire, I owe you a pint--” A thick drop of water fell onto Thomas’ brow as the elder’s wizened gaze drew skywards. “Ah, another rain storm. Wondrous.. Just what these old, aching bones needed today.” He spoke with a careworn tone.

“You’d figure we’d get used to it after a few months, wouldn’t you..?” Curtis peeked betwixt the verdant canopies above, then frowned softly. “Quite a storm.”

A great shadow loomed over Zul’Gurub as the clouds rolled in without warning, suffocating the comforting light of the stars and moon as phantom winds coiled about his body. Curtis shivered and canted his head, observing how the sky above almost appeared to glow green. He’d seen similar storms before - Such clouds heralded monsoons or hurricanes. Whirlwinds, for the most intense of them. They could normally predict these storms..

Both of the men startled as lightning coursed along the blanket and then struck downwards around the city; almost as if it were aimed by divine providence. Fire spread outwards from their points of impact, turning garrisons and barracks into beds of chaos. Startled soldiers ran from their shelter into the waiting, malicious night; gathering the rain waters and tossing it onto the flames. Yet they did not cease, the sheets of falling rain causing the ground to quickly turn into an impossible mire. Muck stuck to Curtis’ boots as he looked desperately to his comrade, attempting to shout over the wind.

But to no avail. It howled like an unholy beast. The thunder from above was like the roar of a thousand drums, the cacophony interspersed with the cries of those who were torn from the central lake’s banks and plunged into its depths to drown. The pair hunkered down, clinging to the weighty log as the storm raged around them. Their very allies, their very structures, were as deadly an obstacle as the storm itself. This was no regular tropical storm.. This was vengeance.

A loud thump - The log shifted. Something bounced from Curtis’ shoulder..

He kept still, sliding his gaze over towards Thomas. The man’s gaze was fixed forward, and he could see a shadow out of the corner of his eye. It was heavy, and lay half-buried within the mud.

Don’t.

Thomas crawled out from cover, his knees dragging across the cobblestone pathway. Wrenching the object from the muck, he turned it over in his hands and stifled his breath. Blood flowed down his fingertips as dozens more landed nearby, and the lightning flashed above.

“L-liam..?”

Curtis recognized the boy. He’d seen him grow up on the farms in Redridge.. He’d seen him hold the line against orcs and worgs. His eyes had been dredged from his head, and his mouth was twisted open into a scream while the tattered remains of his neck drooped against his father’s palms. Yet the cruelty did not end there. A seed lay within, and it sprouted the moment the father’s hands pressed against his son’s jaw. An eerie, terrified scream lashed forth from the fallen soldier’s maw; stretching to an almost impossible length as his father trembled in fear and sorrow.

“THOMAS!” Curtis shoved out from behind cover, scrambling as the smell of rot reached his nostrils. He felt practically drowned, hardly able to breathe in the thick downpour, and his lungs labored for breath. Yet still he pushed forward, mere inches from grabbing onto his friend’s shoulder before lightning struck nearby; sending him flying from his feet and back against the ground. His ears rang, but he stood back up and limped forward, calling out again. “THOMAS, WE NEED TO GET TO SHELTER, NOW! SOLDIER, THAT IS AN ORDER!”

No response. The storm was becoming white noise now.. He was growing used to it, accustomed to it. Over the din, he heard something else..

Songs.. No, chants. Chants, whispers, gleeful laughs. Silhouettes flowed around him, fluttering through the air with vague and twisted faces. Men, women, children.. Soldiers both young and old. Ancient shades, older than even himself, that doubtlessly dated back to the age of the Soulflayer. They were black as night, with eyes of blazing coal. The boldest among them lashed out from the impassive fog; clawing at Curtis’ heart as the weakest crawled along the ground. They moved as sludge, pulling themselves with drooping and stick-like limbs as their unhinged and ectoplasmic jaws opened to exude hollow sighs of hunger.

Curtis dropped his sword and shield, trembling as they drew in closer. He could see them swooping through the air nearby, towards those he’d not even noticed hiding prior. They were hoisted up into the thick of the monsoon, screaming as if their souls were being rent apart. Blood spattered the ground from above, tainting the rain and letting the sanguine roll on through the puddles. He would be next, if he didn’t think fast. There was nothing more he could do for Thomas. Despite the efforts of the young spirits and their furtive grasp, he wrenched away; leaping over their lines and dashing for his life towards the nearest structure. He needed shelter - ANY shelter.

Kicking and crushing heads as he dashed, he let adrenaline take the wheel. His need to survive took over his sense of fear. His focus turned upon what lay before him, not what chased mere inches behind him. His lungs burned, and he barely kept aloft with all of the destabilized dirt and unearthed roots. The whispers of the spirits got louder, he could hear them in his mind.

“You killed us..” “My child..” “My mother..” “My HUSBAND..”

“You let us burn!”

“The Veil hungers.. We hunger.”

“Do not run.. Join us in the clawing dark..”

He shook his head wildly as images passed through his brain..

A great tree, once worshiped and exalted for shelter, had burned and fallen upon families in the district below. Women, children and simple tradesmen taking shelter.

Striped worshipers being shot into ditches at the foot of their own temple.

A slew of trolls falling from zip lines, mere minutes from their salvation while being shot by planes and dwarves on the great wall above.

Curtis pressed on, centering his mind.. And as he calmed, as instinct set in, the voices seemed less interested. His vision became more clear, and his shaking, clammy fingers found the door of his barracks. Opened, unlocked. He could hear the screaming of his allies nearby, but they were oft cut short. Fear.. Fear must attract these beasts! All the more reason to remain calm. He stepped into the structure that shook steadily in the rain, slamming the door behind him and barring it. Curtis’ muscular, aching back slid down against the coarse ironwood before he slumped against the floor; panting and centering himself.

Things were finally calming outside..

Until the door shook. Violently.

“Please-- Let me in, let me in! They’re coming for me, I’ve seen them.. They’re speaking to me, they want to take me off into the darkness in the north!”

Curtis spoke tiredly back against the door, but it was in his authoritative tone. He hoped it might appeal to the soldier’s sense of order. “Private.. I recognize your voice. Calm yourself-- I can’t let you in until you are calm.”

“S-sir, they’re here, I c-can’t s-stay calm.. There’s so many, they’ve killed everyone, and taken what remains..”

“You must, or I can’t let you in here.” Curtis peeked open an eye.. The roof was bent inwards from the heads striking against it. Even still, he could hear their sickening thumps and cracks as they landed nearby.. Then unleashed that ghastly and bone-chilling scream. “They feed off of fear.”

“PLEASE, LET ME IN!” The private shook the door as Curtis grit his teeth and closed his eyes. He wanted to hold his ears, but he couldn’t. The soldier’s breath was catching in his throat as he seemed tearful. “Don’t leave me out here.. I’m so scared, I can’t stop.. Go away, GO AWAY! PLEASE! I HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING!”

He could hear their moans, their savage sounds of delight as they took hold of their prey. He could hear nails scratching against the doorframe as shivers ran down his spine, but all he could do was keep his mind center. Opening the door now would be suicide for himself and any other fool who had stumbled inside.

“PLEASE, CAPTAIN-- LET ME IN! LET-- LET GO! LET ME IN! LET.. ME... IIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH..!” His soul splitting scream rang in Curtis’ ears before it was replaced by silence. He was gone - Gone with the rest of them.

The Captain shivered and nodded to himself. He spoke, but was unsure of his own words. “Just a nightmare, Curtis.. Just sleep.. It’ll be gone when you’re up.”

It was not. For Curtis, and all of Skaldrean’s misguided soldiery..

The nightmare had only just begun.

7 notes · View notes

nightcoremoon · 5 years

Text

I think part of the reason why I hate horror movies is because of the overreliance on jumpscares and shock value and BWAH SUDDEN LOUD NOISES rather than on atmosphere, believability, tension, fear.

here's a list of horror movies from google and the reasons why I hate them, or why I love them, or that they're not actually horror movies.

A quiet place: haven't seen it yet but it's a thriller more so than a horror. thrillers can be scary though but then again so can comedies. and romances. 50 shades is definitely scary: it is psychological abuse after all.

Halloween: slasher film, automatically boring and shit. I'm including the entirety of the franchise here, by the way, and I'm also gonna be including Friday the 13th, nightmare on elm street, etc. They're all the same brand of sensationalist garbage. maybe the very first in each series could be redeemable but the mass volume of shitty and terrible CGI gorefests have ruined them forever. "oh no the scary unkillable monster is coming after us and he's gonna kill us in overly violent ways" 💩

Hereditary: I don't even give a shit it looks trite EDIT maybe it's okay but I don't give enough of a shit to bother to ~give it a chance~ because hey. that's what fucking horror games are for.

Insidious: boring, not scary, 0/10

Get Out: haven't watched yet but will because it's a cinematic masterpiece that defies genre conventions

Bird Box: IM SO FUCKING SICK OF HEARING ABOUT FUCKING BIRD BOX SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT BIRD BOX HOLY SHIT. It's just the goddamn happening by shyamagofuckyourself and it's an excuse to profit off of sensationalist suicide. oohh so spooky. eat my ass, boggart

It: too much bad cgi makes it a comedy. plus a bunch of kids say fuck a lot. good movie that's technically horror I guess but is it scary? nah.

Suspiria: I've never heard of this movie

Annihilation: same

Split: M NIGHT SHYAMALAN IS A SHITTY FILMMAKER and also it's ableist as fuck so

Mandy: google you suck none of these movies have any mainstream appeal

The Conjuring: 💩💩💩

Hush: ??? you know what fuck it I'm skipping the ones that don't matter

The Vvitch: 🙄 my mom's a witch, my best friend's a witch, I'm a witch. hey yeah maybe let's not buy into christian colonialism please? scary witches are boring as shit. gimme something actually scary. like Catholics.

The Nun: wait shit not like that! and by that I mean BORING AS HELL aside from the jumpscares. which are shit

The Babadook: clearly an LGBT movie, not horror

Cabin in the Woods: a parody and an excellent one at that. at least the gore is in homage, or hilariously over the top

Sinister: the fucking epitome of shitty jumpscares and shock value and lack of atmosphere and bad acting and bad plot and jesus fucking christ this is one of the worst and most boring movies I've ever had the misfortune to see DONT WASTE YOUR GODDAMN TIME

Saw: it's actually a thriller with Cary Elwes, Danny Glover, Michael Emerson, and Tobin Bell. it's a campy cheesy low budget true to form horror film with adequate writing, good acting, AMAZING MUSIC BY CHARLIE CLOSER, and isn't over the top with gore considering it's all practical effects. top fucking notch but spawned a dozen terrible sequels.

Shaun of the Dead: it's a touching and heartfelt romantic comedy... with zombies, EXCELLENT CINEMATOGRAPHY, excellent acting, and sad parts that will rip your fucking heart out, stomp on it, and grind it to dust. literally one of the best movies ever made of all time, eat shit tarantino.

The Ring: eh, the original Japanese was better (Japanese horror is its own genre and not a part of this criticism, I actually really like original Japanese horror unfucked up by american audiences as long as it doesn't just gratuitously glorify suicide as Japan does), but this was still a really good mystery thriller with some really cool effects, and is the only movie that has ever actually scared me for real. even now I hate that there's a tv with a vcr right at the foot of my bed.

The Sixth Sense: shyamalan made a couple of good movies. this was one of them. but it wasn't a horror movie and if you didn't know the twist IT WAS A FUCKING AMAZING ONE. like, goddamn empire strikes back levels of supreme and god tier plot twists. it went a little overboard on shock value but compared to the rest of the COMPLETE BULLSHIT on this list (AND IN HIS OWN MOVIES) it really could've gone way further.

The Descent: goddamn claustrophobia. too much horribly cgi'd gore and terrible decisions to be truly enjoyable though. would've been a much better movie without the mutants and the middle finger to physics throat stabbing and the JUST FUCKING KICK IT YOU GODDAMN IDIOT and oh yeah the subtle misogyny. the first half was good tho

28 days later: shitty remake of a merely ok movie EDIT I was thinking of 28 weeks later, 28 days was actually okay I guess

Scream: did not age well but it's okay for being meta, despite the fucking torture porn of drew barrymore at the beginning. allowed for scary movie 1 though, so I'm glad it exists.

Paranormal Activity: PARANORMAL FUCKING ACTIVITY CAN EAT MY ASS, ITS SUCH A SUBLIME FAILURE OF EXECUTION. I WANTED IT TO BE GOOD BUT IT WASNT. oh well at least it inspired five nights at Freddy's. I'll go ahead and throw all shitty found footage movies under this one, including unfriended.

Blair Witch Project: a fucking pioneer of its time. a genre definer. truly scary. good movie. I'll go ahead and throw all good found footage movies under this one, including cloverfield.

The Shining: a thriller, not horror. but goddamn is it the scariest not horror movie ever made. Stephen king you magnificent bastard

Alien: goddamn fucking alien. science fiction masterpiece. director's a little creepy but eh, sigourney weaver kicks ass, and alien isolation is such a good game (despite its many flaws), and it's just so iconic in terms of sheer scope of concept. it's the same horror movie as anywhere else but in space, and I still can't fucking believe this was made in the 70s. this and Star Wars were FUCKING AMAZING, and the xenomorph? THATS ALL PRACTICAL EFFECTS BABEY. NO OVERRELIANCE ON CGI GUTS AND SHOCK VALUE HERE, ITS JUST PURE HORROR AT ITS FINEST. good movie. aliens was better. everything else... eeehhh...

The Thing: same as the descent but with men instead of women, and EVEN WORSE DECISION MAKING. IT IS UNBELIEVABLE JUST HOW GODDAMN STUPID EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM COULD POSSIBLY BE. and in the remake yeah the practical effects were mind blowingly fantastic and inspired dead space which I believe is one of the best horror games if not just best games or horror pieces of media if not just best pieces of media constructed. but the prequel? 🙄 no thanks

The exorcist: masterpiece of practical effects without an overreliance on jumpscares and gore

Jaws: it's Stephen fucking Spielberg in the 70s and one of the most influential horror films and just films in general

Hellraiser: okay I'll give all works by clive barker a pass here because goddamn is he a demented fucking genius if ever I saw one. if only Jericho was actually a good game, it could've been the next doom 3

Poltergeist: an actually good horror movie that depends on atmosphere and effects more so than jumpscares and gore? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP

Evil Dead: campy but misogynist. the sequel was a comedy so it's okay. the next sequel is also a comedy AND ARMY OF DARKNESS IS ONE OF THE BEST MOVIES EVER FUCKING MADE. FIGHT ME. and fuck the remake. sam raimi should've retired after spiderman 3. maybe even before that.

Texas Chainsaw Massacre: honestly not bad. it was actually freaky and believable. rednecks really are fucking scary with all their inbreeding and terrible music and hatred of black people. I refuse to acknowledge the original and the sequels.

Psycho: eh, hitchcock's worst is still better than most of the shit on this list.

The Wicker Man: OH GOD NOT THE BEES! AHHGUBLAHH MY EYES! AAAAAHHHHH!!! fucking excellent comedy. but it doesn't have any naked ladies in it like the original did. oh well, can't please everyone.

Night of the Living Dead: THOSE ZOMBIES ARE BULLSHIT. ZOMBIES CANT USE WEAPONS AND THEY SURE AS FUCK CANT TURN YOU INTO A ZOMBIE BY STABBING YOU WITH A TROWEL. THEY HAVE TO BITE YOU. FUCK YOU GEORGE ROMERO. Also, dawn of the dead was just sensationalist garbage. "They tore apart a real pig carcass tho so it looked like real intestines" what? the fuck??? who gives a shit????? I watch movies to escape from reality, dumbass. I don't beat off to chopped up human carcasses. If I want a zombie movie I want the walking dead sans the soap opera bullshit and the racism and then "no one is safe and everyone will die" boring mentality propagated by twd and got and other things I used to like but no longer care about (because why should I give a shit about it if everyone could die? I can already be sad enough about all the real people I know who die. enjoying the pain of the deaths of those important to us is a privilege the cishets have). the walking dead seasons 1&2 was pure horror and the very best kind. don't give me boring contrivances. "but sheena, night of the living dead was a trope definer! everything in it was original!" yeah, you know what else is original? *farting noise* George Romero is just rob zombie without a rock band. his best work was fucking call of duty. that's pathetic. "maybe you just don't like gore" HEY YEAH SURE I DONT WANNA SEE UBER REALISTIC INTESTINES AND ORGANS IF THEY ARENT PART OF A MEDICAL DEAL SO IM JUST A BIG DUMB HATER. I'm the one in the wrong. fuck me, right?

Don't Breathe: A FUCKING TURKEY BASTER FILLED WITH SEMEN. THATS SO STUPID I FORGOT IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SCARY. BEST CRINGE COMEDY OF THE YEAR :D

Tremors: legitimately great movie with a hundred shitty sequels. like saw but your faves win so you walk away filled with determination rather than sad and disappointed. enjoyment of tragedies are a privilege awarded to those who are neurotypical.

Zombieland: gore done right. the only casualty is mindless zomzoms and bill murray. good. granted it counts as a romance and a comedy but honestly last time I watched it I cried at the part where you find out buck isn't tallahassee's dog. god I love that movie. AND FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS IS THE MOST BADASS MOVIE OPENER EVER.

The Fly: Jeff fucking goldblum. amazing effects for good reasons. need I say more? the original doesn't exist because 1950s horror movies are all bad because all 1950s movies are bad. the 1950s should just be purged from america's records except for pleasantville.

All other Stephen king movies: hit or miss but mostly still good. although very few are actual horror.

10 cloverfield lane: more of a thriller like above's misery but still an amazing movie.

Peeping Tom: literally a movie about how creepy it is to fetishize the deaths of women WHILE LITERALLY FETISHIZING THE DEATHS OF WOMEN. like, come on man. how do you miss your own point so completely?

Invasion of the body snatchers: it's not horror and if it's made to be horror using gore it's shit. the whole thing is just an allegory to the joe mccarthy communism witch hunts anyway.

Cube trilogy: the ultimate b movies. so bad they're good. and it's such an interesting concept too!

Killer Klowns from Outer Space: fucking alien clowns come to earth to turn us into cotton candy by killing us using carnival fare. THIS IS THE GREATEST BAD MOVIE EVER MADE.

All horror movies based on horror video games: either irredeemably bad, or action movies

All creepy Netflix horror movies: wow any idiot with a camera and basic cgi skills can throw shit together to make a movie these days, huh

The Slender Man: I am literally too pissed off about this movie to insult it.

Marble Hornets, Tribe Twelve, the Slender Man movie on YouTube: triumphs of meta, editing, found footage, proof of concept, and story. Slenderman is such a malleable entity for a perfect horror experience, HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY FUCK THAT UP? YOUD HAVE TO BE INTENTIONALLY SABOTAGING YOUR WHOLE MOVIE TO FUCK IT UP AS BAD AS SOMEone who exclusively directs remakes... oh... oh no.

Wrong Turn: one mediocre movie and a dozen loathesome snoozefests coasting by on shock value

Troll 2:

oh god

they're eating her

and then

they're gonna eat me

...

oh my gooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-

(Troll 2 is literally the worst movie ever made and I have to respect it for that at least)

but yeah, horror is just bad for movies. but for video games, though...

#long post

6 notes · View notes

thepineapplejuicer · 6 years

Text

Z nation fanfic- Z Fighter

(None of the znation character belong to me, only Maren)

I will be posting regularly on my Wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/leesh54_C

Part Two:

With dead Zombies around me I was convinced that the group would move on, yet there he was, cruising next to me. "You sure, Miss? Its dangerous out there." he asks again. I glare at him, to familiar with that phrase. The woman next to him offering me a smile. In all honesty I wasn't sure if they were genuinely nice people or just looking for a victim. Either way I wasn't interested in group activities, "Don't worry, sideburns, I can handle myself."

He just frowns and shrugs his shoulders, zooming faster, but slow enough that if I changed my mind he would stop.

I didn't.

I just glanced over to see the three figures, a women and two men, one younger and one older looking me over from the trunk of the pick up. Soon enough he sped ahead until they where out of sight. Thinking of what he said I chuckle to myself, "I am the danger."

**************************************************

I sit quietly on a dried up fountain, somewhere in New Jersey, Zs beat to a pulp at my feet. The popping of my knuckles sound gruesome, as if they should be broken. My throat clogs up with the saliva I keep forgetting to swallow. I keep getting lost in my own head. I unwrap the bandages around my hands and forearms, laying them down on my jean jacket. Scratchy fabric numbs my finger as I graze it. I glace down at the patch, yellow and white with the logo of a kangaroo.

"This logo is great! This place will be packed in no time!" I remember saying.

"Of course, sweetheart! Who doesn't want to learn how to box?" his voice is different, for some reason I cant remember it being sweet or meaningful. It is distorted, deep and angry, but it doesn't match the memory. Suddenly the memory changes, beautiful beige and orange turn into greys and whites. The sweet sounds of encouragement and laughs turn into shattering glass and pathetic tears. I remember the exact moment my own father's footsteps became my biggest fear.

An empty gym with one member, forced to train day and night.

One member who paid the bills.

One member who got beat close to death dozens of times a week.

The only one who cared enough.

The only one to convince herself she was helping.

I still remember the feeling of his old gloves, the smell of old leather, the rusted brown with 10 year old dreams sewn within the stitching. I still remember the last thing he said to me when I burned them.

His voice was clear as day, but interrupted immediately.

I am pulled back to the abandoned city as an enormous explosion shatters all silence for miles. I swing my head behind me and watch the cloud of smoke rise above buildings wondering what had caused it. I quickly grabbed my jacket and bandages, running the opposite direction.

********************************************

Along the rooftops I keep an eye out for cover, sunset will be creeping up on me soon. Its been harder to keep my mind from wondering ever since I got to New York, nothing seemed real. Maybe I am finally realizing that all this....

I jump over the ledge onto a new building, shorter than the last.

All this is pointless.

I stop and take a breath.

You don't live through something like this, the apocalypse, you survive and so far surviving is getting more fruitless for me. I've seen families together, protecting each other, but me? I've lost that long before the outbreak. Love is as extinct as world peace at this point.

I sit down on a fuse box, covered by a rusting green cover.

I chuckle dryly, "I've got nothing to loose."

Feeling this way, it comes with survival, thinking that there is nothing out there but death. God, it's nothing like the movies or games. I can't go one day without asking myself what the point is, yet at the same damn time I'm to much of a coward to pull the trigger. Two years of suffering alone, two years of killing and starving. I've never felt like I had absolutely nothing, but this was it, a human's breaking point. The songs about how strong we are, God were they wrong.

I cant stop laughing as I cry, playing with the mask in my hands.

Our breaking point was just hidden behind all the things that kept us going.

In the corner of my eye I see something black and woven. Suddenly I gasp as I am pulled down.

I turn only to be greeted by a hidden face with heavy hands over my nose and mouth.

********************************************

My eyes slowly peel open, breaking the layer of crust that sealed them. A familiar roar of cheering jolts me up and I find myself in boxing gear, my baton next to me. I look down at the black, blood stained sports bra and shorts and then at the clean bandages around my arms and feet. My jean jacket hugging my body loosely. "wake-y wake-y!" a male voice yells over a loud speaker. I look up and see cage bars all around me, through them a crowd of people, standing on the ground and on cars all screaming chaotically. My eyes land on the woman in the corner, face purple from bruises and bursting with cuts.

"In this corner we have the Tattoo Madame!" he drags the name loudly as he points at me. I scrunch my face in a baffled expression, "Tattoo Madame, what?" I mouth, still in awe.

"And in this corner we have Itty Bitty Betty!"

My eyes follow his arm as he points to the woman in front of me, jumping around like an amateur fighter, punching the air. "what the-"

"LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!"

A loud dong sends the crowd into a frenzy and like someone unclipped her leash she catapulted herself toward me. "Whoa, hey!" I grunt, ducking to the side. She turned, and I couldn't tell if her face was permanently angry or me dodging her was like insulting her mother. She came at me again, sloppy but with intense speed. Her footing was wrong and improvised, like a mix of fighting styles, but none of them pairing well with each other. I duck and send her in different directions, trying to buy some time to look around for a way out. "BORING!" the man yells, his voice traveling to megaphones in the corners.

That's it.

I'm sick of dancing.

The moment she comes in for a blow, I offer a decoy punch and launch my bare foot into her jaw, feeling her bone pop out of place against my toes. The crowd gasps and 'oos' in unison, watching her go down.

"It's unbelievable! Incredible! One hit people! She went down with one hit! She didn't even need the Taser! Gents, give it up for our new champion!"

"Champion?" I whisper looking around the cage.

"Who will be her new challenger?" his voice calms down as the crowd does, that's when I yell at him. "What the hell is going on?!" I scream.

He looks at me and smiles, "Really shouldn't have been lost in thought, little girl."

My eyes widen, "Did you knock me out?!"

He ignores me and pumps up the crowd.

"Come on you wimps! Whose going to join this lovely lady in the ring?!"

The crowd goes quiet until one voice blurts out, "I will."

I turn and feel the air leave my lungs, "Sideburns?" I whisper.

He simply winks as the cage door opens. I don't know what his plan is, but I'm ready to run for it-

A loud gunshot stills the crowd and we all turn to the announcer whose head is punctured with a single bullet. Before everyone looks back I turn to see the man from the pick up truck signaling for me to follow. I scoop up my baton and rush out the cage, several people grabbing us. A second gunshot drops a random spectator, spiking fear in the others. I tase those around me, creating an electric shield as I run into the dark street. Some of the men and women come after us. I stop in the middle of the road, refusing to run anymore, but suddenly two light beams blind me, running over those who chased us. I hear a woman's voice, rushed and enraged, "Get in!"

#z nation #10k imagine #10k x reader #murphy #fanfiction #fanfic #z nation fanfic #z nation fanfiction #doc z nation #z nation imagine #10k znation #z nation x reader #pineapple juice original

43 notes · View notes

insaincat · 6 years

Text

Bluer than the ocean. Pt 1

Sidlink.

Siren Au. World where the Champions lived. Some Gore. Murder Mystery. Romance. Mythology. Link is a hoarder. Sidon isn't the biggest thing out there, or the scariest. Don't know if I’ll finished this. Wrote this randomly with no idea where it was going them BAM, plot happened and I was like ‘shit this was supposed to be a fluff without plot’. Sidon is a love struck puppy. This all happens with in the span of a month.

Sidon is sent to Lurelin village to help eradicate a water monster that the villagers can't quite catch. Except it isn't a water monster doing the killings. In fact, said water monster is quite innocent. But now Sidon has to find out who or what is killing the men in the village.

The Village Chief then introduces him to a quite small Hylian, who seems to hold just as many mysteries as the ocean. He wants to help too, but he kinda scares Sidon. And yet there's just something about him that intrances him. Maybe it's his soft song like voice? Maybe it's his sun kissed skin speckled with dark freckles? Maybe it’s those gem blue eyes that glow in the sun? Or that smile that made his insides flip in unison? His laugh, oh his laugh. Sidon could listen to that for hours, and it would never fail to turn his brain into mush and have his heart sing...

Oh Hylia.

Bluer than the ocean around them, the gems seemed to twinkle. If only they were real gems, Sidon would have taken them home and gifted them to his sister. But the gems had an owner, so he could not take. Instead, he watched, frozen in place, his heart mesmerized by the gems that twinkled in the little sunlight around them. His mind, however, scream danger at the being before him.

He didn't know what he was. It was too shrouded in darkness to tell. All Sidon could see was those gem-like-eyes that it had, but he did not fail to catch the glittering of pearl white teeth. It sat under a rock at the seabed’s floor, almost as if it had buried itself there, and by the low growl coming from it, it didn't want him coming any closer.

This likely was its home, its territory, and Sidon had been intruding.

Sidon wasn't used to this salt water indruding in his gills as he struggled to breath through his sudden wave of fear, though he took it much better than some of the zora that accompanied him. Might be due to his sub-type.

He and very small army had traveled from Zora’s Domain to Lurelin Village after a member of the Village came hands and knees, begging for the zora’s aid. Sidon’s father had thought it would be a great opportunity for him to see the world and to practice military command. The chief of Lurelin Village had asked them to discover, and hopefully eradicate, whatever was lurking in Aris’s waters.

It originally had been full of monsters, for which they had been gathering a small troup for, but then something moved in and the monsters disappeared. However, instead of being relieved, they quickly found out that something, likely bigger, just ate them.

A few men from the village had gone missing, there had been several mentions of some giant fish being spotted in the water, even near the village, and everyone could hear singing at night. While the tune would lull children to sleep and relive Women of their stresses, the men seemed to be entranced by it. Sidon had experienced this himself one night when stayed in the village.

It was beautiful. Something so sweet yet sorrowful swept the air that night. It had been sung in an unknown language, but was slow so maybe he just couldn't tell by the way the vowels were drown out. It was masculine, he could tell that much, but there were parts of it where the voice sprang to a high note, one that seemed impossible for any sort of male creature to do.

The voice so velvety seemed to soothe every part of his body, as his mind seemed to distance itself from reality.

When he came to, he was lying face up on Aris Beach. He didn't know how he got there but it had been morning already. And when he got to the village, they had found a dead body, shredded and torn apart, face completely gone. The body was unrecognizable, but from the point that there was another man missing, this was likely him. Sidon had thanked Hylia that day for not being this man when he was put under that trance.

But now he was. He was just floating there like a sitting duck, his brain not even remembering the spear in his hand. It stayed there too, hidden in the darkness of the depths. It looked like it considered him enough of a threat to not dare to move just as he did. But then there was movement.

It wasn't his, or the creature before him. It was off in the distance, towards the beach. It caught both of their attentions, enough to have them tear their eyes off each other. A boat. It was a boat coming closer. The creature sunk further into it’s rock cave and Sidon lowered himself the the sea floor. The boat obviously spooked the creature. But why would it? If it had the ability to take out men and monsters, why did it see the boat as a threat?

As the shadow of the boat loomed closer, Sidon tried his best to keep in the shadows. And the closer it got, the colder the water seemed. It stopped a few feet away and just sat there for a moment. Then, something large fell into the water and the boat started back towards the beach.

The creature returned, but instead of seeing those blue gems, Sidon saw pitch black that reflected the sun in an ery way. Every part of Sidon screamed to swim, swim as fast as he could, no, faster than he could, away from that monster. But Sidon kept control of himself. Besides, the creature was no longer looking at him. It was looking at the floating thing in the water.

Whatever it was, the creature seemed infuriated by it. It shook it’s head a few times, as if it was trying to override the sent of something. Then, Sidon smelled it too just as he heard the words echo in his head. ‘Blood’. It was time to go, and this time, Sidon went with his instinct to swim as fast as his body could possibly take.

Right before he did, he caught a glimpse of an unhinged jaw and oh so many teeth.

Sidon had swam right back to the beach and was near wheezing when he arrived. All of the zora had poked their out of the water, a few coming to check on him.

“Get everyone out of the water, now.” He rasped, as he tried to catch his breath. The guard at his side stood and the words of their Prince, and everyone did as they were told. Few questions were asked as they all headed back to the village, and Sidon was thankful for that. He needed to get his thoughts in order.

It was near sundown when Bazz, the guard captain, approached him. His father had instructed him to go to keep an eye on Sidon’s actions and advise him when necessary.

“My Prince.”

“Hello Bazz.” Sidon turned from the ocean to face the captain.

“Might I ask what you saw? You seemed fairly... upset.” Bazz seemed to choose his words carefully, as most should around royalty. But Sidon wasn't going to sugar coat what he saw.

“Terrified is more like it.” He gave a smile to his older friend. “But yes. I can hardly blame you for being concerned.”

“Its my job after all. Your sister would have my head if not.” Sidon laughed at his dry humor. “Care to tell an old friend?”

“Yes. Well... I admit that i'm not sure myself.” He faced the ocean again, memories of what happened earlier that day surfaced like a new scar. The terror he felt was real, and it made him shiver. “It was odd. I cant really... understand it.”

Bazz sat next to him, showing that he’s lending an ear as a friend rather than a captain.

“It was...” he breathed a moment. “It was beautiful, at first.”

“Oh god. Please don't tell me about your sex life, my prince.” Bazz smirked.

“Oh no. Dear Hylia, no. Especially with...” The thought of an unhinged jaw made him shiver again. “...That. I mean, its eyes. They were beautiful. I originally thought that they were a pair of gems just sitting at the ocean floor but....”

“Goddesses! You mistook eyes for gems? My Prince! I must inform Muzu about this. He’ll make you re-read the book about minerals!” Bazz gave a snort.

“Please, anything that~!” Sidon leaned to the side and drape an arm over his crown and let out a dramatic sigh. “Why do you take so much pleasure from my pain?”

“Because its something to gosip over. Now, please. Continue about how you almost plucked a poor creature’s eyes out.”

“I’ll have you note, I very much didn't.” He straightened. “But yes. As I got closer, i noticed it was clearly not what I thought, for, believe it or not, had very large teeth. And it was growling? I don't understand how it could, as many animals cant, but it was.” Bazz nodded for him to continue. “I... I was terrified. I couldn't even see all of it, and I knew that I didn't have much of a chance at winning hand to hand.” He looked to the sand between his toes. “I had a feeling even Mipha and father wouldn't be much a match for it alone.”

“How? Your Sister is one of the best warriors in the domain, not to mention the King.”

“I don't know. But I knew that this creature was something that would terrify even a lynal.” He rubbed a hand over his face. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, he felt exhausted. “It didnt attack me. It seemed to be just as alert as I was though, it kept its distance.”

“Maybe it saw this giant red thing made of pure muscle while holding a poky shiny stick a thing not to be messed with.”

“Well, when you put it like that, I even I would be terrified of me!” Bazz grineed when Sidon lightly jabbed his side with his elbow. “But it really didnt feel that way on my side. So we were just staring at each other, and then a curious thing happened.”

“Things got weird?”

“Very. A boat from the village approached us. It hid, and, well, so did I. And before it left, it dropped something heavy into the water.” His fists clenched. He had been lucky to swim away when he did. If he had stayed a second longer, he likely would have been torn apart by the creature. Or worse. He could have gone into a blood frenzy. “It recked of blood.”

The air was stiff and silent, unspoken words easily translated in Bazz’s mind.

“Bazz.” The black zora looked to him. “I think... I think there’s a killer in this village. It clearly isn't that creature. It seemed very territorial, but it didn't seem to wish for unnecessary death.”

“Your highness, you’r likely right about a killer being here, but I cant say about the creature not being aggressive and helping lure these villagers to the killer. We should eradicate the creature as a unit and return home. That is what I think.” Bazz stood from his spot, dusting off his behind and legs of sand and Sidon pursed his lips. He had a feeling that the creature was just an innocent bystander like everyone ells.

“We were asked to kill the creature hunting their people.”

“We were asked to kill the creature hunting their shores.”

“Then we find out what is really hunting it, because when I found it, it was much too far from the shores to be considered a threat.” And Sidon stood.

“What?”

“I found it by a cave far up north. I had originally gone there to find a gift for Mipha and my father, but I found it instead. There was plenty of food there, it has no reason to travel this far out. And I will admit that I should have brought a guard, yes, that was stupid of me. But I stand by in believing it is not the one at fault.”

Bazz vissibly clenched his jaw, trying to refrain from scolding this child before him and sighed to relive some of the stress. “What of the song we heard?”

“Likely just an echo. The place I found it was close to the mountains and had a few trenches and cliffs.”

“What do you suggest we do, Me Prince? Need I remind you we were given only a month to do this.” And now Sidon was talking to his guard captain, rather than his friend.

“First we have one of our medics look at the body we’ve found so far. See if they can find any hints that the man was killed in an unnatural way.” Bazz nodded. “Have some of the guards comb the beaches for blood or weapons. We should also have three or four of our people integrate with the locals, see if they can find anything out through there, rumours or otherwise.” He paused and looked to Bazz, who was expecting him to add more.

“Oh, and, increase the amount of guards at night, females only. Who ever is doing this is using the lull to it’s advantage.”

“We’ll have another guard accompany you to places outside the village.” Bazz added, and as much as Sidon wanted to complain, he was the Prince and this was just protocall.

“Good. Now I think I’ll be retiring for the night.”

...

The sun had already set and people had started to light their torches for the upcoming darkness. Sidon was sitting on the floor, writing to his sister at his desk, when came a knock.

“Sire, the chief would like a word with you.”

“Let him enter.”

The door opened and in slowly walked the village chief, Rozel. He was thin and old, his hair having turned silver and his eyebrows seemed to nearly cover up his eyes. His beard and mustache was more welkept than his hair whiched seemed to seemed to want to defy gravity at all costs. But he wasn't the only one who walked in.

Blue eyes like gems locked onto his, and for a moment, his brain stopped working and his body stiffened as his instincts tried to figure out if he was friend or foe. He felt afraid, but not terrified. Though eyes the same, this was a hylian, but shorter than any he’s seen before.

“Good evening, Prince Sidon.” Chief Rozel smiled. “Looks like you noticed my little suprise.”

“Surprise??” Sidon blinked a few times before looking to Rozel.

Rozel nodded with a hum and presented the young man next to him. “This is Link. I had thought you would need some help, so I sent word to the young Master.”

“Master?” Sidon’s eyes looked over Link. He was shorter than the average hylian, bit baby faced, but from the sharpness of his eyes, he was fully grown. Blond hair only seemed to be partly bundled together in the back as over half of it framed his face and draped around his neck. Full lips and a well defined brow, and as if to wrap his charming looks in a bow, he had blue piercings in each ear. He was dressed loosely, but enough covered him to wonder if what he was seeing was baby fat or toned muscles.

“Yes. Master. He had worked as Queen Zelda’s knight at one point, but I believe you are retired now.” Rozel looked to Link who only nodded in confirmation.

“Really? So young?”

“Yes, I do believe it only happened due to an emergency, but what do I know.” the elder stroked his beard. “He is very skilled in combat and very witty. I think he’ll prove useful to aiding you.”

“Ah. Thank you for the offer but-” Suddenly, that terror that made his senses tell him to turn and run returned, just as it did in the water this morning. He looked to Link who looked as if... It was if he was looking down at Sidon. As if Sidon wasn't twice his height, even sitting down. And those Gem like eyes felt cold, unlike earlier. It seems... as if Link doesn't want Sidon to send him away. Like he knows what's happening and he won't take no for an answer.

Link was threatening him, and every part of him said to obey.

He coughed to cover up the sudden pause and restated himself. “But dont know if there is more you can do. I will, however, be happy to accept your offer.” The glar softened and Sidon no longer felt that he was about to face something fierce.

The elder just laughed, as if he knew what Link was doing, “Go easy on him Link.” He gave the hylian a pat on the back and Link smiled. Wow. When he wasn't busy threatening to take someone’s life quietly, he was really handsome.

“Now. There is another reason I came by.” Rozel said. “I heard a rumor that you went up north and saw something.”

Sidon nearly jumped up. “Really?! How? I thought I told Bazz to keep quiet about our talk.”

Rozel just waved him off. “Children see things they shouldn't and tell their mothers. And women often like to gosip around each other.”

Sidon sighed. “Yes. Its true.”

“Please, do tell this old man.” He leaned closer, as if he was about to hear gosip himself. Link just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“I doubt you’ll believe me. I hardly believe me.”

“Try me.”

“Well...” Sidon began and Link leaned on the wall, not looking very interested in his story. “I saw this creature up north, near a cave. It didn't seem aggressive, but territorial. Quite sharp teeth.” The elder hummed. “But it did have these eyes... I admittedly mistook for gems, and while I was a bit... startled by what I found, it’s eyes were stunningly beautiful.”

Link made a sound, maybe it was a squeak, as he suddenly lost footing under him (somehow) and nearly fell, only catching himself on the wall at the last second. He tried to play it cool by straightening himself and leaning back on the wall with a stoic face. But Sidon did notice a faint blush on his face and ears, which were pointed down in embarrassment.

The elder just laughed again. “Sounds like you saw the God of the Sea.”

“Pardon?”

“God of the Sea. We don't really have a name for him, but he’s been around as long as the ocean itself. He’s to take on many forms, but no one has really seen his true without being completely covered in darkness. All we know as that his eyes are like gems, and he protects the sea and those that dwell in it.”

“Really?” Different cultures had always been fascinating, but experiencing them was something else.

“Yes, Really. He’s known to be territorial, however. When I was a young lad, our village would go to the cliffs and send him gifts. My sister once gave him a flower crown, and unlike everyone ell’s, he took it right away. Saw a clawed hand snatch it and drag it down while my gift waited a day or two before it was accepted.” he chuckled at the fond memory and Link and Sidon couldn't help but smile as well. “She never let me live it down. Always said the god liked her more than me.”

Sidon’s smile faded. “Do you think it’s possible that the Sea god is the one responsible for what is happening?”

Rozel’s eyebrows shot up, and Sidon saw his eyes for the first time in his life. Dull brown, but still there. “Dear goddesses, no. He’s much to kind for that. Not even if he was angry. He’d just eat all the fish. He’s sassy, but he’s not evil.”

Link gave a tisk and rolled his head to the side in an over dramatic way, as if he’d been the one who was just spoken bad about.

Rozel eyes him and muttered “Dramatic too.”

“Thank you for this information. I’ll be glad to chalk the Sea God as impossible suspect.”

Rozel nodded. “Its time we take our leave, then. Good night, Prince Sidon.” He turned towards the door and Link pushed himself off the wall to help the elder leave.

But before he closed the door behind him, he spoke in barely a whisper, eyes brighter than the moon, “Yes. Good night, young Prince.”

And Sidon was alone.

#sidlink #botw #prince sidon #link #the legend of zelda #siren #siren au #au #zelda #the legend of zelda breath of the wild #the legend of zelda botw #loz #loz botw #the legend of zelda link #link botw #botw prince sidon #botw sidon

65 notes · View notes

jobone123 · 4 years

Text

#report story time ON TOUR was painfully interrupted BY A SAT TECH TEAM eger to find out about my raw netWORKing IS HE HAVING SEX OR NOT databreach was making a killing of bad sat techs SO I WAS PAINFULLY STOPPED TO HAVE A INTERNATIONAL SATELLITE ALL TUNE IN TO WATCH ME TAKE A SHIT ON MORE THEN ONE OCCASION I can imagine sat tech sent out the text see see oil vs turd HIS HAIRS STILL BLACK whoops

Fame Vs desperation TOO MAKE ME A FOOL IN FRONT OF DATABREACH DAUGHTERS N SAT TECH WIVES too watch me take a shit IN FRONT OF MILLIONS OF SATELLITE NETWORKS who’s the real fool n loser

Databreach to have the union WATCH ME whistled blew I DIDNT EVEN SAY THAT

In all honesty I may of been called to ice because a weak vowel son vs hot pussy daughter WAS FALLEN FROM BLACK HAIR TO WHITE dead son Theory I KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO ICE SUNRISE JASON Climate s climax theory

This blonde male followed me everywhere to revenge blonde Jason unseccess from my gem NOW PICTURE MY GEM BLACK ish theory add lmao FUCK YOU MOM VS THANKS MOM

If you remember the black man with all white hairs THAT WOULD BE WHAT HAPPENED TO JASON OF ICE SUNRISE we should blame racist Florida NEXT ROUND I WANT FLORIDA DEAD WE WILL START BY THE WHISTLING VEGAS Vs California body’s I want from sunrise MY PICK WAS TEXAS VS MISSISSIPPI VS ATLANTA but Florida n it’s SAFTEY clause of Vegas California for SAFTEY I DONT KNOW WHO IS CONSTANTLY CHALLENGING THE RANKS OF A SCARED FLORIDA SUNRISE from 48 other sunrise s in the world OF CALIFORNIA VEGAS but it needs to stop I SAW N SEE THE AIRPORT ARRIVALS n never has it once said California Las Vegas SAT TECH IS A DEAD COWARD

Come to find out Florida maybe protecting its NORTH ice territory s VS WE DROVE THE BUS ALL THE WAY north n ended back in sunrise Florida DEBUNKED but handing my success to Vegas California vs Cuba IS MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS I maybe really n originally from California?

Brings up the next topic

Sat tech goes around the world via satellite WHOOPS to point out accidents GOV SHOULD REALLY MIND ITS OWN BUSINESS vs makes one needed Jayson to save or concur them all nobod in life would ask to beat a successful brothers BUISNESSes from an unseccessful gov of hater children without jobs Mind Your Own BUISNESS gov FOR THE LONGEST TIME NOW I HAVE BEEN BATTLING A SOCIAL CAMPAIGN FROM ABANDONED ICE FORTS N LAND LOCK PEOPLE to sabotage my brothers success #haters I never choose to ever say one bad thing about Jason but was forced to become characteristic n funny to keep an audience HOW I DIVIDE BLONDE JASON Vs black haired Jason was for my sanity to not hate on my brother or cut his throat IVE BEEN TO THE CITYS HEs built n couldn’t say one bad thing about him or the city BUT HIS PEOPLE SURE DID oh the brown eye crackers n black filth of downtown BLONDE GEM BETTERISM was enough to set a birthright land sat tech rule of betterism myself to separate the boys n girls that followed me from a hunting hatred sat tech orders AND THEY DIDNT EVEN KNOW WHAT A SLEEPING BABY WAS OR A COMPUTER BABY WAS “a sat tech” yikes n ouch don’t even get me stearted on food processing NOBODY WOULD OR WILL STOP Miami Florida turning on or off air conditioning SO DONT HAVE SAT ON MY TOURS tell me what’s wrong with other states THE NERVE TO SAY ICE WAS AN ACCIDENT FOR GIVING PEOPLE FREE AIR TO BREATHE Vs not making sense again HOW BOUT NEXT WAR FLORIDA GOV MINDS ITS OWN BUSINESS N DOESNT INVOLVE ITSELF IN BETTERISM SUNRISE VS JASON having me pay govs vacation bills

Back to topic GOV NEEDS TO MIND ITS OWN BUSINESS betterism gov vs people A BLIND GIRL SEX KILLED GOV or black vs white argument betterism or house vs downtown apartment SEX KILLED ALL OF YOU! Mind your own business GOV IS BETTER THEN PEOPLE my son my son wert werrt SOMTIMES I THINK IF ONLY I WERE BORN CHINESE!

Turns out gov n people s only “job” was socialism wert wert BUT THE CONTROL TO BREAK MY HEADPHONES n be told or alter my post FROM HIDING MY MANTRA NUCS so shitter countries men would have an advantage over me girls HER WALLS SHE KNEW at one times 24/7 reached an overload DEADFAMILYDEADDAUGHERPEDIFFI databreach to hide sexy from a dead daughter witnesses union AS IM BEING EXPANDED N BRAIN SURGERY RIGHT NOW aka sat tech female found me n her husband databreachers me again NOW PICTURE HER ON LAND N HER HUSBAND DATABREACH ME FROM INTERNATIONAL SATELLITE Florida will not be able to protect its own daughter with this president set!

Anyways turns out socialism n not free trips was the jealous of my fame n success BUT IT WAS IN A ME AGAINST THE WORLD ACT of sending my intial thoughts on a subject around for everyone to post before me A DATABREACH OF WHISTLEING BLOWERS that had the worst databreach brain surgery of people of union following me to REPEAT WHAT MY MOUTH WAS SAYING OUT LOUD lip readers TURNS OUT LOOKED LIKE MY LIPS WERE EATING PUSSY to stop the men from EXPANSION N BRAIN SURGERY thanks bae your a genius for that one ADD THIS WHOLE SUNRISE SCHEME OF HOTTER STATES DOWNTOWN Vs ice blood sweat vs expansion IS A BAD JOKE WHEN IT COMES TO COMPETITION trap island vs land YOUR DAUGHTER S FATHER DOESNT HAVE A BOAT wert wert

This tour databreach was worst of all time AS THE BOY GOT OLD ENOUGH TO TRAVEL but still couldn’t tell what a sleeping baby was TO FOLLOW ME WITH THE ONE LINER he doesn’t have a girlfriend wert wert TO INNOCENT GIRLS that just thought I was sexy THIS TOUR WAS THE WORSE YET sat tech sons ruined life n the game IM BEING SICKENED BECAUSE TAKE YOUR SON TO WORK DAY TOUR n he’s sicker then the old wrinkly white man PRAY FOR THE GIRLS no woMAN TREATED WORSE

Back to gov mind your own business AND TEACH YOUR LOSER SON WHAT A SLEEPING BABY IS n not just another target from the house THAT CAME INTO OUR DOWNTOWN

Speaking of gov mind your own business IMA KILL EVERY BLACK persons in this city FOR THE EVERY DOWNTOWN HAS A SUNRISE more so in fact any city she goes I WILL FIND HER because any downtown has the same black persons LIKE IF ONE BLACK MAN KILLS SOMEONE they all did it Theory ADD OF YOUR FROM LAND DOWNTOWN your not what it’s saying NOBODY CARES ABOUT WOMEN FROM LAND LOCK DOWNTOWN that’s what started this war MY DAUGHTER S BETTER THEN YOUR DAUGHTER trap land to trap island theory JOKES let’s be clear the only reason any downtown she goes is because of Jayson YOU NIGGERS WITH THESE ENABLING WHITE CHEERLEADERS had started a betterism Jayson war that enabled me to be able to divide the families SEPERATION OF POWERS ACT jokeing BUT BLACK PEOPLE NEED TO STOP WITH THIS ANY DOWNTOWN I will call my identical brother AND SAME RULES THREAT BECAUSE YOU ALL LOOK THE SAME it’s trouble some add Jayson has been to more downtown s then any of your blacks following him WHY HE FLYS NOW cant drive a bus to many land sites or to any islands THE BETTERISM OF BLACK MEN N BROWN EYE CRACKER MEN has involved me from an unadvantage your BLONDE MEN CHEERLEADER S network is better then Jayson s brown eye before he black gemed ADD BLONDE MEN HAVE NO BUISNESS IN MY BUISNESS it’s what technically shot blonde Jason BLONDE MEN thank u mom vs fuck u mom NOT KNOWING THERE PLACE when black gem women are prettier n smarter I DIDNT WANT TO SEE THISE BLONDE MEN KILLED BUT IT FELT BETTER like sex but better I CAMe TWICE THAT DAY when revenge murder is better then sex with your daughter ITS A WIN WINi can tour for ten more years BUT WILL BLACKEN TO LOOSE THE LOSER BLONDE GEM next tour I HAVE TOO BEAT THEM ALL for not minding there own business LETS BE CLEAR WHITE N BLACK PEOPLE I’m her son n your father MONEY TALKS BULLSHIT WALKS

0 notes

kaoruyogi · 7 years

Text

How to Win Wars and Influence Nobles (Ch. 18)

Rating: E for Explicit/NSFW Content!

Check it out on AO3!

You’d think a video game lawyer could just drop into a pseudo-medieval universe filled with magic and demons and be totally okay with it, right?

Nah.

In the wake of her brother, Spencer’s, disappearance, Belle dropped into Thedas with luggage, but without a clue. After a brief but memorable panic attack, she resolved to be the best goddamn lawyer Thedas had ever seen. Even if she was the only goddamn lawyer Thedas had ever seen. And even if that obstinate asshole, Cullen, wouldn’t stop giving her the side-eye every time she walked into a room…Or every time he walked into a room with her in it…Or every time they walked into a room together…Or–Fuck it. You get it.

Chapter 18: The Blood of the Wicked

Hauling Samson from the Arbor Wilds to Skyhold was proving more problematic than Cullen had anticipated. The first problem was the limited cadre that would allow them to travel fast enough to get to Skyhold before any of Samson’s information became useless to the Inquisition. Due to their diminutive ranks, the soldiers alternated watch and guard shifts with the members of the inner circle who had not gone into the Temple of Mythal with Max. Not only was it a logistical complication, but Cullen was constantly forced to intervene when Sera decided she was going to kill Samson after he ran his mouth during her guard rotation.

And Samson did run his mouth. That was the second problem. It was all too likely that the man sought to get himself killed by one person or another before reaching Skyhold where his knowledge of Corypheus’s plans would be plucked from his skull by whatever means Max deemed appropriate. Samson pecked and gnawed at everyone around him, and was spat on an punched more than once for his efforts.

He focused particular attention on Cullen. Samson knew Cullen could hear the red lyrium running in his addled and glowing veins. Samson knew it sang to Cullen in tones that were less dulcet and inviting than they were cloying and demanding. Samson knew Cullen had stopped taking any lyrium altogether. Samson knew too much, and it took every ounce of patience Cullen had not to engage him. Samson’s presence exacerbated Cullen’s withdrawal symptoms. This made that every ounce of patience that much harder to muster. Had Cullen been in the earlier phases of his withdrawal, he might have punched Samson, might have killed him for all he had done. Had he been in the earlier phases of his withdrawal, he might have killed Samson just to suck the lyrium from his marrow. It was a notion that plagued him day and night.

Samson’s harassment doubled when he realized Belle was Cullen’s romantic partner. Samson leered and made obscene gestures and catcalled her. Much of the time she seemed too lost in her own mind to notice. She would stare at nothing, unblinking as they rode and as they ate and as they dressed and as they undressed. She would find her way back to Cullen when he touched her, and she would smile as if nothing at all were amiss. She would laugh if someone said something humorous, and she would engage in conversation to add her perspective, often redoubling the laughter in the air. To the casual observer, Belle was relaxed and normal, jovial and unabashed as ever.

Cullen was not a casual observer. He had held Belle under his magnified scrutiny since the day she fell into Thedas. He noted the way her brow furrowed and her jaw canted after she laughed from time to time, pensive as she chewed the tip of her tongue between her back teeth. The frequency of her sighs after she spoke had increased from her standard brief periods of agitation. Her hands had ceased their fidgeting, instead floating about her face to rub her eyes beneath her glasses. She stirred more in the night, her sleep restless and fragmented.

His attentiveness to her subtle shift in behavior drew his eyes away from Samson more than he should have allowed. On their second to last night on the road, Cullen watched Belle smile while Josephine told a story he could not hear next to a campfire he could not feel. It was his time to guard Samson, which drew him away from the pleasant dinner he might otherwise have been enjoying with Belle and the other advisors and members of Max’s inner circle. Samson had to be kept away for the sake of everyone’s sanity, they had all decided.

“You don’t deserve her, you know,” said Samson, leaning in close enough that Cullen could smell the ancient rot in the man’s mouth.

“There are very few things on which I would find myself inclined to agree with you. But, in this case, you are correct. I don’t deserve her.”

“You don’t deserve any of it.”

“Right again.” Cullen was loath to continue his concessions. He was loath to continue this conversation. Every time Samson opened his mouth, Cullen’s nausea grew. The scent of dead teeth and dying organs wafted out on Samson’s breath, mingling with the screeching song of the red lyrium that seemed to grow louder in an attempt to drown out his words.

“I was a better man than you, Rutherford. I am a better man than you.”

“For a time, you were a better man than me, but I did not poison and kill hundreds of Templars and bind them to a darkspawn magister simply because I was disillusioned with the Chantry and addicted to lyrium I could not obtain by other means.”

“No. You burned mages souls from their bodies, instead. You followed the Chantry like a blind, dumb dog. You enjoyed the hateful shit they fed you. You gobbled it down. Even after you claim to have turned your back on the Chantry, you stayed their dog. Helping Hawke stop Meredith and leaving the Order didn’t change a thing. You joined the Chantry’s Inquisition so you could keep mages locked up forever. That you travel with them and that you work for one of them must really twist your guts.” Samson’s voice had an edge and a viscosity to it. Every word he spoke was like a venomous and creeping ooze. The chains around his wrist jangled with his every weak gesture.

Cullen turned to look Samson in his jaundiced red and blue eyes. “I will not continue to argue with you about the quality of our characters. My reasons for joining the Inquisition had nothing to do with locking up mages. I sought to stop a war I helped start. One that threatened to destroy Thedas. You have chosen the wrong side, Raleigh, and you took good men and women down with you. I am proud of my work with the Inquisition, and I am proud to call the Inquisitor—a mage, as you so thoughtfully mentioned—my friend.”

“Hey.” Belle’s voice rang like a soft chime from nearby. Cullen turned to see her approaching with Sera by her side. The campfire behind the women made Belle’s long curls glow around her shadowed face like the sun eclipsed by a moon. As his eyes adjusted, he saw that she wore a strange kind of smirk that pinched the left side of her face together, marking the equal measures of her concern and amusement. “Don’t feed the trolls.”

She came close enough to put her cool hand on the back of Cullen’s neck. Sera stayed a bit further away, squinting at Samson with her arms crossed. Belle’s fingers pressed and massaged Cullen’s tightened muscles, and he felt his fists relax until they were hands once more. “I just wanted to let you know I’m headed to bed. I know you have a couple hours left on douche duty.” Cullen nodded.

“I bet your cunt tastes like cherries,” said Samson. Cullen’s hands became fists again.

Belle’s eyebrows lifted and she shook her head. “And I bet your dick tastes like a dead man’s toe cheese, but some questions will just never be answered.”

Samson let out a dark chuckle. He must have been quite committed to dying before reaching Skyhold. In all the time Cullen had known him, and in everything he’d ever heard about him, Raleigh Samson had never been a lecherous or prurient man. Despite his blatant self-interest when it came to his lyrium addiction, he was not the kind of man to hound women. Before he had been removed from the Order, he had always been respectful toward women, mage and Templar alike. Even as they removed him from the Temple of Mythal, several women lay among the dead and defeated Red Templars around him.

“Anyway,” said Belle, “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in a bit.” She left a brief kiss on Cullen’s forehead before walking away. Cullen watched her hips sway as she went. Her waving curls had grown down to the inward curve of her back, and her longer hair swung the opposite direction of her hips, like a pendulum.

Sera stayed behind, arms still crossed over her chest. She jerked her head toward the campfire. “I need to talk to you, Commander Fuzzy Shoulders.” Samson snorted, and Cullen looked from Sera to Samson and back. He could not leave their prisoner in favor of a private conversation. She sighed. “Right, you listen, Crotch Rot.”

“I’m all ears.” Samson’s sneer was audible.

“No horses near you. Nothing ‘round for a hundred miles. Try anything stupid, we catch you. And you’ll get an arse full of arrows. Just your arse. Won’t kill you, but will hurt. Lots.”

Cullen watched as the sneer melted off Samson’s face like ice in the spring. He said nothing in answer, but it was clear that he understood. Cullen stood to step away with Sera. The two of them both stood with Samson in their periphery. He was a nebulous cloud of red and black and sickly flesh out of the corner of Cullen’s eye. “What is it?”

“You noticed Belle being all…droopy, yeah? She’s laughing and happy, but it doesn’t get in. Doesn’t get to her eyes.”

Sera’s observation left Cullen taken aback. “I have noticed, yes. I had not realized anyone else had.”

“Pfft.” The blonde elf rolled her eyes and her head in unison. “Course I noticed. Dorian too. Josie might, hard to tell. She’s good at playing her cards close. Leliana definitely. If Bull or Varric were here, they’d see.” Sera took a breath to squint at Samson again before continuing. “She won’t say what’s wrong. If I ask, she smiles and pretends right’s right. You’re her Cully-Wully. She’ll tell you what’s got her all floppy when she thinks we’re not looking, yeah?”

“You know as well as I do that Belle cannot be made to do anything. I have two hours left on my guard shift, in any case, and she’ll be asleep by the time I can speak to her.”

“I’m taking over for the rest.” Sera tapped her foot in the tamped down grass beneath their camp. She reached into one of her pouches and withdrew a weathered and perforated sock. “Got a gag for Crotch Rot, so don’t worry about me killing him. More fun to aim for his arse if he does something stupid, anyway. You ever see a grown man with an arrow in his arse? Good for a laugh, that.”

Cullen’s stare was circumspect. He scanned Sera’s body language for signs of deceit or mischief and saw none. Her blue eyes, ever alight with a thousand simultaneous ideas, were at once clever and troubled. She held his gaze for as long as she could stand before rolling her eyes and her head in unison again. “Go on.” She clapped a hand on his arm and shoved him as hard as a person that much smaller could shove a person that much larger. He abided, listening to her soft footsteps and her sunny voice saying, “Open your mouth, Crotch Rot,” as he made his way toward the tent he shared with Belle.

She had her back to him when he entered, her long fingers plucking away at the laces on the back of her pale gray corset. The wings of her shoulder blades jutted out from beneath her dress that was gauzy and blue as the pre-morning sky. Were it not for the red curls draped over her shoulders and the harried manner in which she tugged at her corset, she would have looked to him as the skies over Honnleath while he fed his family’s livestock as a boy. She would have been the nimbus fog and the crisp, wet air that dampened the barley just so, the way the sheep and horses liked it best.

Cullen had not startled her. She peered over her shoulder and around her firestorm of loose curls, and he saw her eyes smile at him. “I should have known I would spend two hours futzing with this corset,” she said as she turned away. “Out of the seven fucking hundred million I have, I had to bring the one—” She held up her index finger, then brought it back down to the tangle over her spine. “—that doesn’t have clasps along the side.”

He tugged his hands free of his gloves, tossing the soft leather onto the table he installed every night in every one of his tents by sheer force of habit. As the cool evening air hit the sweat on his naked palms, he thought of how feckless that small table was with all its ungainliness and parts and pieces. Purposeless so much of the time. A waste of space.

Belle had managed to loosen the knot for the lower half of the corset, and had moved onto the upper knot. She spat out a fricative half syllable that might have been a curse when her finger was ensnared by the mess of cords. Cullen joined the fray, working faster in light of his clear view of the battlefield and its gangly soldiers. “Sera took over the rest of my watch.”

“That’s weird. You’re not worried she’s going to kill Samson?”

“She brought a sock.”

Belle’s responding laugh was like a spring. It had a bouncy quality to it that very nearly made Cullen forget the reason Sera had relieved him. The fabric of Belle’s corset sighed open when he loosened the final knot. “Ahh, thank you. I could feel the bones digging into my ribcage. Riding in a corset sucks a bag of dicks. I should have brought better clothes.”

Cullen doffed his mantle, speaking as he unfastened his pauldrons from his cuirass and his cuirass from his breastplate. “Sera is worried about you.”

Belle still had her back to him. She slid the corset down past her hips, stepping out of it and setting it on the table beside his gloves. Her bare toes flexed in the grass beneath their feet. “Why’s that?”

“I have been worried, too,” said Cullen. Belle slipped out of her breeches, finally turning to help him with his breastplate. Her lips pursed and moved to the left side of her face. “You have not been yourself since we left the Arbor Wilds.”

“Oh? And who have I been?”

“Maker’s breath. Please don’t be glib.”

“Then you don’t be precious. Tell me what you mean.” She took his breastplate from his chest while he held the backplate.

“You have been…pensive.”

“I’m usually pensive.” Belle turned away again. She pulled her dress up over her head, revealing her shimmering scar and a myriad of red indentations from her ribs to her hips. She ran a finger up one of the painful-looking marks and hummed out her displeasure. Her nightdress covered everything in short order. “I think a lot. For example, right now I’m thinking about what you’re trying to ask me. But you’re being oblique and it’s making deciphering your meaning difficult.”

Cullen crossed their tent in one stride. He spun to sit on the bed so he could look her in the eye. “Please don’t be so evasive.”

“I’m not being evasive.”

“You are. You have been distant and silent at the oddest moments. You’re being combative with me, and I’m only trying to figure out how I help you feel better.”

Belle sighed through her nose and leveled her gaze with his. “I’m fine. That’s what’s bothering me. Okay? I fucking killed a guy. A guy was alive and now he’s not, and I have absolutely no qualms with that.” Her voice wound itself tighter and tighter. “I’m just one hundred percent fine with the fact that guy is dead. I’m really fucking struggling with that. Like, does that make me a stone cold killer? Am I just…” She threw her hands up and shook her head. Her eyes went wider and wider. “Like, am I just totally cool with killing whoever now? Am I evil now because I don’t care that that douchecanoe is dead? Am I going to Hell? Is there a Hell here? It’s a lot to process. I get quiet when I’m processing. So, yeah, I’m fine, and it’s freaking me the fuck out.” She became more and more animated right up until her mouth clapped shut. She sat down beside him with a thud. Her head came to rest on his shoulder. “And now I’m getting even more confirmation that I’m a terrible person because I snapped at you for asking me what was wrong.”

Cullen looked down at her. The pin straight part in her hair was all he could see. “You are not a terrible person,” he said. She looked up at him, her neck contorted in a way that must have been uncomfortable. “You’ve given your good nature away simply by asking these questions of yourself.”

“I tried telling myself that. I can’t convince myself to believe me.”

“Can you convince yourself to believe me, then?” He ran his hand from her alabaster part to her alabaster chin. He let his fingers splay over her crooked neck. “I have known every type of person. Some days, I’m certain I have been every type of person. An unscrupulous killer, while she might not concern herself with the fact that she had taken a life, would also not concern herself with the morality of her actions. She would not have to find a way to justify it to herself because she would not give the virtue of her reasons a moment’s thought. The killing would be right to her simply because she had done it.”

“Well, that’s a whole lot of circular reasoning.”

Cullen twisted at his waist, holding Belle’s face in his hands. “Precisely. And you are not a woman who indulges in circular reasoning.” He knew she hated circular reasoning. She’d once ranted about it for fifteen minutes after a meeting with a very self-indulgent Bann.

Belle puffed out a laugh. “Uh uh.”

“We can then surmise—” He kissed her left cheek. “—that because you ask yourself these questions, and do not engage in circular reasoning—” He kissed her right cheek. Her nose scrunched up when she giggled. “—you are not an unscrupulous killer, correct?”

She beamed at him, and the heart she made beat for her warmed in his chest. “Have I ever told you that you’d have made a great attorney?”

“I don’t believe you have.”

“Well, you would’ve. Except the kissing. Can’t go all kissing on your clients and your jurors and shit. That’s fraternization. It’s frowned upon.” Belle’s moon face always looked so small in his hands.

“I suppose I should be happy that you’re not one of my clients or jurors, then?” Cullen kissed her smiling lips. A brief thing, like a punctuation mark.

“I suppose you should.” She dropped her forehead against his chest. “I concede. I’m not an unscrupulous killer. That’s not going to stop me from dwelling on it for another tiny eternity, mind you. But I’m really tired, my spine has turned to gel-oh, and my ribs feel like they’re going to cave in.”

Cullen focused his hearing outside their tent. Several soldiers chuckled and whispered around the nearby fire. Night birds and insects chirped far from the circle of tents and carts. Sera was not murdering Samson inasmuch as she was talking mindlessly at him. Knowing her, she was simply trying to yammer him into submission. Talk him to death.

Gently, Cullen laid Belle down on their cot, taking his place beside her in the manner he determined least likely to jostle her tired body. Her back was flush to his chest, her head resting on her pillow and his bicep. From where he lay, he could just make out her eyes. He watched them blink and roll lazily in every direction before they closed. Her breathing was deep and even the moment her lashes grazed her cheek.

Cullen’s eyes remained open for a time. His mind remained active. His ears remained vigilant. He could not name the moment he fell asleep, though he would later recall drifting off to the sound of Sera mulling over the intricacies of raisin use in cookies.

*****

Cullen may have given the appearance that he was working when the guards brought Samson into his office. He had certainly been attempting to work. Knowing that he was expected to extract information from his former cohort—the man with whom he had once shared a room—made the words on the reports before him impossible to decipher. It was one thing to ask Cullen to capture and transport Samson. It was something else entirely to ask him to rekindle an obliterated relationship under the misbegotten pretense of mutual civility and humanity. Samson had been correct during Max’s judgement. Cullen did not believe there was anything worthy left in the man.

The former Templar and former Red Templar both had their heads down when the door opened. They looked up simultaneously, each catching flashes of contempt in the other’s eyes. This would be no easy task. Samson was unchained, though he was flanked by two rather large Inquisition soldiers. He squared his shoulders before walking through the door. The soldiers saluted and closed it behind him.

“Cullen.”

“Raleigh.” Cullen stood at the curt greeting. The first way he could think to remind Samson of his humanity was to remind him of his given name. He told Max that he was willing to give the Inquisition his knowledge, but from one look at him in this moment, Cullen doubted whether that would happen. “Are your quarters sufficient?”

Samson took another step forward as Cullen rounded his desk. “Better than a jail cell. Not by much.” He shrugged toward the door.

“Surely you can understand why we need to keep you under guard until—”

“Until you’ve got everything you can get out of me.”

“Until we can trust you,” said Cullen. “Once I can report back to the Inquisitor that you and I have built a good rapport, we will decrease the guard.”

“And how do you suppose that’s going to happen, Commander?” Samson stepped forward again. He had learned long ago that proximity an intimidation were among the best weapons at a Templar’s disposal, as had Cullen. Again, Cullen could smell the formidable reek of decay. “We never built much of one, even before I was cast out of the Order.”

Cullen stood firm, unyielding even as Samson loomed before him. The bedraggled man was two or three inches shorter than Cullen, but he continued to wield menace like a blade. He would have been ominous to someone who did not know him so well as Cullen once had. Samson’s prolonged proximity did, however, set Cullen’s head and gut to spinning. It was all he could do not to back away to evade the wailing emanating from Samson’s blood.

The sound of a door opening might have startled them had they not been fighting a silent battle of stony stares. “Hey, Cullen, how many sol—Oh.” On the boundaries of Cullen’s vision, he saw a mass of red hair and ivory skin that could only have been Belle. “I didn’t realize you were…doing this right now. I’ll come back in a bit.”

Samson broke his gaze, turning to look at Belle. “My lady.” There was a slowness to the way he said it. A thickness. A sludge. He pivoted to aim an exaggerated bow at her. “The Commander and I were just getting started.”

Cullen’s eyes flicked to Belle, who stood expressionless just inside the doorframe. The natural downturn of her mouth gave her a sternness that perpetually walked the line between anger and annoyance. She glanced at Cullen before fixing her glare on Samson.

Samson took her silence as invitation to continue. “I was just about to ask the Commander what he already knows about Red Templars. Perhaps I should ask you, my lady. What do you know about Red Templars?”

“Enough.”

“Is that so? I wonder, what constitutes ‘enough?’ For instance, did you know that ordinary lyrium is essentially a poison that Templars build a tolerance to?”

“As so many narcotics are.” Cullen could hear Belle let out a slow sigh through her nose. “I also know that red lyrium is worse, before you feel the urge to ask me about that, too.”

“And did you know that red lyrium attacks the blue stuff? Tries to destroy it in order to replace it?” Belle remained silent. “You didn’t know that, eh? It’s like a sickness destroying another sickness. It burns up the lyrium in your blood. Boils it till it’s gone.”

“Sounds painful.”

“Oh, it’s excruciating. If a Templar gets it on his skin before he has his first philter, it’ll try and burn right through to get at the blue stuff. Would you like a demonstration?”

In an instant, Samson reeled back and spat in Cullen’s face. In an instant, the bridge of Cullen’s nose and the top of his cheek were set aflame. In an instant, Cullen cried out his agony. He moved quickly, using his sleeve to wipe the tainted blood and saliva from his skin.

“Hey!” was bellowed from where Belle stood. Where she no longer stood. She appeared through Cullen’s blurred vision as fire and ice carried toward him on the wind. But she was not coming for him. She grunted as she swung her crooked arm at Samson’s face. The bony blade of her lightly clothed elbow connected with his nose, and it was his turn to cry out in pain as fresh blood poured from within and without. She rocked back, fist poised to strike the bleeding man again.

Cullen snatched her up before she could swing. His arm wrapped around her waist, and he tugged her back. Her feet lifted off the floor. Her whole body lurched and flailed. He worried for a moment that she might escape his grasp.

“I’m gonna fuck you the fuck up! Piece of fucking shit!” Belle’s leg swung out, narrowly missing Samson’s head. She spat at him while Cullen hauled her out of the open door. “Fuck you! Motherfucker!” The adjacent door opened to reveal the two guards just before Cullen shut himself out.

Belle groaned and hollered and thrashed until they reached her doorway. She began to fidget and ramble through her adrenaline surge the moment he set her down. “Fucking asshole. Are you okay? Holy shit. I actually connected. I didn’t think I would. I only ever went to that one Krav Maga class. But I watched a shitload of Muay Thai and Em-Em-Ay. Maybe that’s why. Are you okay?” She was all but vibrating.

Cullen’s anger bubbled deep in his chest. He held her arms to still her. “Why would you do something so reckless?”

“Reckless? I’m fine. It’s okay, he wasn’t going to hurt me.”

“You might have destroyed any chance I have at getting information about Corypheus’s plans. Why would you let him provoke you like that? Why would you hit him?”

“What? I might what?” Belle’s brow furrowed in confusion and in fury. “He attacked you! He hurt you! So I hurt him back! He knows the fucking score.”

The anger bubbling in Cullen’s chest rolled up and growled through his throat. “He was testing me! He was testing you! He is testing everything!” His voice left his lips loud and harsh. Her eyes that were like armor and like the sea went wide. “He wants his last chance to die fighting. The red lyrium is killing him. He wants to die before it can. I will not have you or anyone else giving him the idea that he is entitled to that kind of relief!”

Belle looked as though she wanted to hit him or scream at him or cry. She shrugged his hands from her arms. She turned and walked through her door, closing it behind her. He heard the door to the other side of the battlements open and close, and saw her march off toward the kitchen. Her head was down and her hands were clenched tight into furious fists.

With yet another reason to despise Samson tucked away his mind, Cullen re-entered his tower. Samson sat in a chair that had been dragged from beside the wall into the center of the room. Two large hands belonging to two large men rested on either of his shoulders. Cullen dismissed them, reassuring one of them that he would be fine and reminding the soldier not to question orders.

“She’s a spitfire, your Belle.” Samson chuckled that dark chuckle. His tongue darted out to stop the blood running out of his nostrils and over his lips and down his chin. He winced when he sniffed, and he chuckled again. A serrated cut over the bridge of his nose gushed more blood. Even the man’s blood looked viscous and heavy—too thick for human veins.

“An interesting choice of words.” Cullen perched himself on the edge of his desk. His hand found the pommel of his sword, and he was grounded by the cool metal and rough cord there. Has skin felt raw, but there was no need for a healer. The red lyrium in Samson’s blood had not been as concentrated as that of the Red Templar Cullen slew at the Shrine of Dumat.

“I can’t help but notice I’m still alive. Even after attacking the Commander of the Inquisition in his own quarters. Your lot must be desperate.”

“Not as desperate as you, apparently. Do you want to die so badly that you’re willing to throw away any chance at redemption?”

Samson scoffed. “There is no redemption for me. There’s only madness or the end of a blade. Both, if your Maker sees fit to cast me out in the most fitting way. The longer I wait to die, the more the red lyrium kills me. As I said on my knees before your Inquisitor, Corypheus could only delay my corruption.”

“And as I said, you were part of something larger than yourself once. Why did you become a Templar?”

“Same as you. I wanted to help people. Just not the same people as the Chantry wanted me to help.”

“Do you think you’re helping anyone right now? The bulk of your Red Templars have been wiped out. The Templars left alive and untainted by red lyrium have nevertheless been tainted by your actions and by your leadership under Corypheus. Do you honestly believe that the mages would benefit in any way from his success?”

“I don’t believe anyone can benefit from anything happening in Thedas right now. The Chantry’s in chaos, looking for anyone they can blame for all of it. Templars have become just as hated and distrusted as mages. No one can seem to stop killing each other. At least Corypheus was able to unite Thedas, even if it meant uniting against him.”

“If he wins, everyone will be subjugated. As I recall, that was one of your—how did you put it—your ‘philosophical differences’ with the Order and the Chantry. If you help us defeat him, the Inquisition will have sway with the Chantry. We could have a say in the selection of the next Divine. The world can change, if you help us keep it alive. Men can find redemption. Perhaps even some of your own men.”

Samson went silent for what seemed like a lifetime. His head hung looser on his neck, much of his will to fight having fled his body. He was exhausted. Cullen understood that kind of exhaustion. It was the kind that left a man feeling less than a man after fighting for too long for a cause he knew she should not have supported. Cullen felt it in Kirkwall. Each night, he sat at the edge of his bed with his head hanging loose on his neck, his body protesting every move he’d made throughout the day, his mind praying for the clarity and the strength to understand and to do what was right. The weight of a thousand lives crushed him, as it crushed Samson now.

“Alright.” All the viscosity and sliminess had left Samson’s voice. All that remained was the same voice that had once asked Cullen about what it was like in Honnleath before the Blight. It was the same voice that had comforted mages and Templars on their worst days, and it was the same voice that decried the Order’s treatment of its charges. “What do you want to know?”

It was deep into the night when Cullen called the soldiers in to escort Samson back to his quarters. The former Templars made arrangements amongst themselves for the timing of their next meeting. Cullen made no promises of a merciful death to Samson, and Samson made no promises to remain alive until the madness ripped his mind from his will.

It was too late to approach Belle that night, and Cullen was still vexed at her rashness. He wished he had not shouted at her and he wished he had shouted louder. He had been unable to compose himself enough to find the words to make her understand. He resolved to find those words before he slept as he ascended the godforsaken ladder into his loft. He could no longer think of the word “ladder” without his mind adding “godforsaken” in Belle’s voice.

His ire faded as he lay over the blankets on his still tidy bed. It faded into gentle sorrow at his inability to hold her close and murmur his explanations and apologies into her hair. He would speak with her the next day, though it may very well have been the next day by the time his eyes drifted shut. The Fade was cruel and unmerciful when it finally took him, and in his nightmares his own cruelty was reflected on the backs of his eyelids.

The blood of the wicked would always flow through his veins, refusing to be forgotten, refusing to release him, refusing to allow him to be a better man.

*****

#cullen #cullen rutherford #commander cullen #cullen x belle #belle dolan #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #fanfic #mgit #modern girl in thedas #self indulgence au #htwwain

47 notes · View notes