#but it will be so difficult to overcome if the accusations towards him are true too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anghraine · 1 year

Text

Here's the rambling Hunsford/letter post I've been talking about:

I've often thought it interesting that Austen fandom doesn't seem to share many Austen critics' visceral discomfort with Darcy's letter.

Of course, trends among literary critics and among fans often are very different. It doesn't necessarily signify much that Austen fans don't tie themselves into knots trying to undercut the letter in some way. Various critics have argued that it's out of character for Darcy to write the letter, or anti-feminist, or unfair to readers, or a relic of over-revision, etc. Even critics who don't do these things tend not to engage with it all that closely.

A lot of Austen fandom, by contrast, shares my affection for the letter, at least in a general way. I very rarely see fans arguing that it's inconsistent with Darcy's personality, say, or forced by Austen to tilt the scales towards him. There's a lot of affection for the letter as an object, at the very least.

Something I've noticed, though, is that in fandom/pop culture, the double whammy of Elizabeth's rejection-Darcy's letter is pretty overwhelmingly reduced to Elizabeth's rejection.

This isn't necessarily done to attack Darcy as is frequently the case in the lit-crit. In fandom, it's often to praise him for paying attention to Elizabeth's righteous excoriation in a difficult situation and actually shaping up.

But it's very rarely the case that I see anyone praise Elizabeth for reasoning her way to accepting the painful truth of Darcy's letter. There's not much talk or appreciation about her efforts to overcome her vanity and intellectual self-indulgence. And it's not easy for her. She struggles with the letter, despite Darcy's attempts to soften the later parts of it. It's hard to accept that it's true and that she was misled by her own pride, and afterwards, she still sometimes slips into similar kinds of mistakes and has to keep working at it.

The thing about Elizabeth's rejection is that it starts from a place of absolutely righteous, justified indignation and seems entirely appropriate to Darcy's shitty proposal. She did treat Mr Collins's shitty proposal much more gently, and I think that's significant, but that fact doesn't make her wrong to be angered by Darcy's proposal or to call him out for it. So the fandom treatment of it as this piece of spectacular righteous indignation is right in the sense that she does start with that.

And then she keeps going.

She is right about his proposal. She is at least somewhat right about his general behavior—she has tended to cast it in the worst possible light it can be seen in, in a way which paved the road to greater mistakes with him and others, but he can certainly be an asshole at times. She is at least somewhat wrong about his motives for interfering with Bingley and Jane, but right that he did so. She is utterly wrong about his supposed crimes towards Wickham and thus his basic moral character.

That is, she believed him a terrible enough person to actually ruin the life of a man raised with him from infancy as a dependent of Darcy's family—a man who had virtually no other resources while Darcy is extremely powerful and wealthy, and that Darcy did it with no excuse and no reason except petty childhood jealousy. It would take a genuinely awful person to do that, especially in those circumstances.

With the Wickham thing in particular, it's not just that Darcy is in fact innocent of all Wickham-related accusations in the sense that he didn't do them. He didn't do them and Wickham is a predatory monster to boot and Darcy appears to actually be Wickham's primary intended target. Wickham will use anyone for his own benefit, but the only person he seems to make repeated, calculated efforts against is Darcy.

So Elizabeth's rejection includes throwing Wickham's baseless accusations in the face of one of Wickham's victims, and one who is also the devoted brother of someone even more victimized whom Wickham trash-talked to Elizabeth earlier. Elizabeth is entirely capable of judging and behaving better, but just didn't, because Wickham told her what she wanted to hear. That's ... bad, actually?

She feels righteous at the time of the full rejection, but that doesn't make it true, and once she does realize the full truth, she never seriously shrugs it off. Her most lingering feeling about the scene between them seems to be shame. Her entire sense of who she is as a person is shaken, just like Darcy's. They both realize, in response to each other, that their bad behavior in this one incident is connected to a wider pattern in how they think and engage with the world, even though both are wrong about some particulars with regard to each other.

So the revelations of the letter are, IMO, critical to understanding the ethical concerns of the Hunsford scene. If it were actually this sequence of uncomplicated righteous glory for Elizabeth, as it's so often seen, there would be little of significance for Darcy to say in the letter, and Elizabeth would not be shocked into character growth. The only growth that would seriously matter would be Darcy's. And there are clearly people who do see their dynamic that way.

But to be blunt, that is not the novel Austen wrote. Darcy's growth, his struggles with himself, his pain, are all experienced offstage and only revealed afterwards. Instead, Austen shines the spotlight on Elizabeth. It's Elizabeth who is shown processing what Darcy says in the letter. It's Elizabeth whose shock and horror and shame are made the turning point of the novel, and whose recurrent sense of guilt for her part in the Hunsford scene is most fully explored.

It's not because Elizabeth is more at fault. It's because they are both at fault, but Elizabeth is more important to the novel and its concerns. The narrative cares more about her, whether it's in her moral failures or triumphs—because she has both.

I don't just mean that she's the most central character, by the way. All of Austen's novels have clear enough protagonists, but some of them are much more dominated by their protagonists than others. Mansfield Park splits the spotlight between the core cast quite a lot, for instance, so it can feel less focused than, say, Emma. As for P&P, Darcy is more prominent than many Austen love interests and often considered one of the most compelling ones (I certainly find him so), but it's still very much Elizabeth's show and wouldn't work nearly as well if she did not so thoroughly embody so many of the concerns of the narrative.

So it makes sense that the writing of the two halves of the central set piece basically gives Elizabeth her moment of glory, then immediately undercuts it by pulling out a significant portion of her moral ground and having Elizabeth's epiphany center on her faults, which plainly mirror Darcy's. And I do feel like this is lost in the sidelining of the letter vs the rejection.

So I've wondered where this tendency is coming from, especially considering how literally and figuratively central Elizabeth's epiphany after the letter is to the novel, to her characterization, and retroactively, to the Hunsford scene.

I was thinking it might actually be a fannish version of the same discomfort that so many of the literary critics feel over the letter, even though the push-back against it takes a different form. Maybe fandom downplays the entire second half of this central sequence for the same basic reason—it undercuts the glory of the rejection in a way that people aren't comfortable with.

But I've also considered the idea that maybe it's less that and more that fandom frequently prioritizes the arcs and the pain of male characters over female ones, even when they're more marginal. Maybe fandom is more invested in Darcy's offstage arc than Elizabeth's onstage one for the usual reason, especially given that Elizabeth frequently gets treated as an audience proxy more than a character with her own arc and choices. I do see quite a few takes about how P&P is about masculinity in this or that way because Darcy blahblahblah, and it's like ... Elizabeth whomst??

I do not have any gripe, fwiw, with individuals being more engaged by a given male character (marginal or not) than a female one, or less interested by protagonists, or whatever. But the trend is pretty unmistakable, so that could be at work.

I've also wondered if the heavy impact of adaptations plays some part, since they tend to pretty thoroughly disrupt the structure, dynamic, and contents of the letter and of Elizabeth's response to it.

I mean, I don't know. But at the end of the day, my firm opinion is that the Hunsford scene can't be fully understood without the context of the letter, and that the letter is in fact a good artistic choice. Consequently, I think that Elizabeth's behavior in the Hunsford scene is flawed at best—not more than Darcy's, but in addition to Darcy's. And this does strike me as weirdly absent from how it's talked about.

#anghraine babbles #anghraine rants #ish #long post #austen blogging #otp of otps #it may not seem like an otp post! but.....the mirror hurts #elizabeth bennet #fitzwilliam darcy #elizabeth bennet critical #for an 'elizabeth has significant flaws and an actual arc that is the most important one in the book' value of critical #anghraine's meta #general fanwank #austen fanwank

142 notes · View notes

kingkyks · 4 years

Text

i can't wait for the whole alvaro/neymar situation to end because this is a nightmare

#so stressful #i don't know who to trust and how to be unbiaised #i'm sure that neymar has been racially abused #but it will be so difficult to overcome if the accusations towards him are true too

3 notes · View notes

ddarker-dreams · 4 years

Text

🎀 scarlet ribbons.

ITS SELF INDULGENT FRIDAY BOIS !! time for scarlet ribbons headcanons that i’ve been working on in between commissions, this is essentially just a reverse harem ... there’s no yandere here for once, just some vibes... click here for an explanation ! the reader described here is the same in all the scenarios. i’m using she/her pronouns for this reader.

Bruno Bucciarati;

He forms a special kind of attachment to you, seeing as you’ll be the second person to join his team. You won over his compassionate heart, preventing a much crueler fate. As a foreign exchange student, you had taken out a loan with Passione to complete your education. The problem is, the egregious amount of interest being too much for you to pay back on time. Bucciarati had been ordered to collect your debt. Instead of following through with his orders, he used his favor with Polpo to let you pay back your debt by working for Passione under his leadership.

Appreciates the dynamic and resolve you bring to the group. While he tries his best not to show favoritism to any members of his team, you’re someone he always looks out for extra much. Not because he thinks of you incapable, but because his care for you runs deep after knowing you for years. He’s definitely going to catch onto the others holding similar feelings for you though.

Acts a bit different towards you in one on one scenarios, versus when the others are around. He’s more relaxed when it’s only the two of you, speaking of matters not relating to work and checking up on your well being. Bruno realizes he could listen to you for hours, enjoying your unique perspective. He also finds your foreign accent endearing, and has mentioned it to see how you blush at the compliment.

Super sweet with you, always has looked out for your best interest. He’s your go to when you feel stressed about your situation, providing the support you need, since he’s the only person aware of your circumstances. Bruno is reassuring, helping you in the moments the debt to the organization feels impossible to overcome. He’s offered to help pay for part of it, but you always refuse, feeling grateful enough to him as is. It pains him to see you hurting, but he does anything he can to make you feel better. Always pays for your meals though, no matter how much you raise a fuss about it.

Giorno Giovanna;

There’s a certain warmth in you that he wasn’t sure what to think of at first. Giorno is an astute individual, making observations from afar, watching you joking and smiling with the rest of the team. He eventually comes to the conclusion that your presence fills his stomach with butterflies, seeing your more lighthearted approach to life. There’s something intoxicating about it, and he’ll jump for any opportunity to spend time with you much to the annoyance of everyone else, they already had enough competition wtf.

He’s a coy little shit at times. Giorno sees how the others look at you, especially how obvious Narancia and Mista are. When they get defensive over how much Giorno is talking to you, he’ll just flash a faux innocent smile and ask what the problem with it is. It’s more effective on Narancia, who just ends up sputtering before slinking away in defeat. Mista can kinda deflect the accusation better, though there’s still a blush on his face. Giorno knows what he’s doing lmaoo

It infuriates Abbacchio how obvious he is with you, like, the audacity of this man. Just swinging into Bucciarati’s team, trying to woo you away. Giorno is always asking for your opinion on how to proceed with certain things, even if his mind has already been made up. Anything just to talk to you. Most likely going to receive Abbacchio’s scorn the most for this, especially since Giorno will lean closer to you when you’re answering his questions. Giorno is just going :) , meanwhile Narancia is furiously taking notes. (”Okay, so if I ask [First] about this, I have an excuse to get closer to her...!)

He did strongly in school, maybe not as well as Fugo but is definitely academically gifted. So that means when he enters the picture, Fugo has some Competition for the English speaking buddy role. Giorno can understand most simple phrases and is capable of following the conversation, occasionally interjecting when he feels confident enough. Fugo might try and make his conversations with you more complicated because of this, since he’s petty and wants all your attention. You’re meant to be his English speaking buddy >:( !!

To be honest, Giorno’s not really sure what he’s doing, despite the suave impression he gives. Giorno has charisma, sure, but this is all very new to him. He’s still learning as he goes, and pays very close attention to how everyone else interacts with you. Anything to see your preferences, so he can use it to his advantage later. Has a large mental file on you, that comes in handy. He isn’t so much flirty, but more seeking out your company and thoughts on things.

Guido Mista;

Poor Mista almost friendzones himself in a way... he doesn’t mean to, but he wants to warm up to you in his own way!! And that way is through joking around and a lot of “friendly” banter. The friendly banter is more like thinly veiled flirting. He tries so hard to act cool and mysterious around you, like a Clint Eastwood character. Ends up being super goofy, though it works in his favor since he gets to see your cute smile!!! Victory!!

Mista has no shame. He’ll show up outside your apartment, food in hand, saying he wants to come over and hang. He even lets you pick the movie if that’s what you want to do!! A true honor, since Mista is willing to sit through stuff he wouldn’t normally be interested in all for the sake of winning you over. <33

Probably tied with Narancia for the most Unfortunate Mishaps to occur when attempting to woo you. Some favorites include, but are not limited to: when he tried giving you flowers but they kept making him sneeze, that time he was leaning against your door frame and fell over, and basically anything that happens when the Pistols come out. They wanna be his lil wing men, but they keep screwing him over... :<

“[First]!! [First]!! We’re bored, come hang out with us instead!!!!” You’ll end up with a flurry of Pistols swirling around you very often, putting Mista’s affection for you on full display. It irritates Fugo the most, he almost wants to smack them away like they’re flies lmao. They might start sweatin’ when they see Fugo’s eyebrow twitch, the Stand often interrupting your conversations with the blonde. Mista tests his patience for sure.

Pannacotta Fugo;

A bit of a typical tsun towards you at first. He’s all acting high and mighty, huffing about the newest member of the team not being as bright as him. In reality he just thinks you’re vvv cute, and doesn’t know how to process it. You greet him and his brain just kinda short circuits, and he gives a standoffish insult before running off to hide his blush. Bruno would find it endearing if not for his feelings for you lmao.

How he gets over this initial stump at the start of your relationship is by acting like you need his help. Especially if you stumble over any Italian words, namely Naples lingo being more difficult to master. He takes it upon himself to help you out... in reality he just really wants to spend more time with you. Also, seeing you stumble over words is precious, he tries not to tease you about it though. Does occasionally...

You end up being roommate at the start!!! To save money, but it’s whatever, who cares about the practical reasoning behind it. What matters is that he gets to spend even more time with you than the others. The problem is that Narancia and Mista make a point to come by often, which he finds to be very irritating. They even crash at your shared apartment at times, but because of how messy they are, don’t get an invitation to live permanently. Fugo is smug about how you picked him due to his cleanliness >:)c

English speaking buddies !! He might not be fluent in it, but he’s better at it than everyone else. Also a lot more capable of learning it, just for the sake of impressing you. Gets this very pleased look on his face when you two speak in simple English, Narancia staring over, pouting for being left out. It’s like a special connection or something, not that Fugo would ever admit to saying that to you. He’s flexing his academic muscles.

Narancia Ghirgha;

Anyone could look over at Narancia and see his huge heart eyes for you. You like the same foreign music as him!! You can speak another language!! He wants to learn English from you, and keeps asking. Sometimes butchers the pronunciation but god it’s so cute who cares. Teach Narancia one phrase and he’s gonna be saying it nonstop for the rest of the week. Fugo, the only other member to understand English on a decent level until GioGio, is gonna be miserable whenever this happens. That’s his thing with you! Why can’t Narancia get something else, smh ...

If you recommend him a song he will not stop listening to it. Also expect a lot of discussions about different artists, mostly hip hop ones when Narancia is leading the conversation. He thinks it’s so cool you understand what they’re saying!! Is gonna ask you to translate them a lot. He kinda just stares at you, mouth agape when you’re singing along, like woah!! His crush is so talented.

His most treasured moments with you, is when you recommend one another music, and share headphones. Sometimes you just bob your head to the rhythm, or sing along. Whatever the case, he gets to be close to you, and his brain is practically turning to mush at the fact your thighs are touching.

Fugo did him dirty once in the past. Before Narancia realized he had Competition for your affections, he went to Fugo, asking how to compliment you in English. He should’ve known by how Fugo was staring at him with the most malicious smirk that he made a mistake. The next day, when meeting up at Libeccio, he came up to you. Chest puffed out, proud after a night of practicing his phrase. Then proceeded to say to you in English, “I am a fucking idiot!!!!” looking all smiley and excited. Needless to say, you almost spit out your food and laughed about it for a long time. Narancia has been planning his revenge on Fugo ever since...

Narancia follows you around like a lost puppy at times, but he’s a lot of fun to hang out around!! He’ll buy you gelato, and even lets you have a bite of his food if you ask. No one else has this special privilege. There is a time you offered to let him try a sip of your drink, and he almost melted. All his brain could think of is, indirect kiss, indirect kiss!!!! One of the best moments of his life tbh.

Leone Abbacchio;

Abbacchio put a lot of effort into distancing himself from you. Why do you smile so much?? It makes him uncomfortable being around you, someone who is basically sunshine stuffed into a human body. It reminds him of all his shortcomings, which he feels he has no shortage of. But when you make the initially irritating decision to keep speaking to him, only giving space when you felt he really needed it, it won over his little grinch heart.

He’s been wrapped around your finger ever since. Unlike the other bumbling buffoons who are tripping over themselves to get an ounce of your attention, he plays it cool. More of a Bucciarati approach to things. Asking about your interests, letting you do most of the talking so he has no chance to embarrass himself (like *cough* Narancia *cough*).

Next to Fugo, is most likely to call other members out on their nonsense. He wouldn’t dare do so for Bruno, but everyone else is fair game. The main victim to this treatment is Giorno. Abbacchio might even offer some “advice” to him, giving false information all under the guise of assisting Giorno’s pursuit of you. He takes a more hands off approach on everyone else.

He doesn’t want to invite you over to his place because of how dreary it is, so he has to find other ways to get one on one time with you. This mostly happens by talking about things no one else finds of interest to you, namely makeup or other fashion things.

You are the only person who gets to call him any nicknames, the one you lean towards typically being Abba. Narancia once made a mistake of calling him this, only to earn a very threatening glare. When you do it though, he has to push down the urge to smile. How cute!!

Trish Una;

Gay rights time . Trish looks at you and immediately thinks wow, perfect girlfriend material right there. Still acts a bit reserved at first, considering her complex situation and how she’s still piecing it all together in her heard. Since you’re the only other girl on the team, she gets the benefit of Bucciarati assigning you to be extra close to her. All according to plan heheh >:)

When she flirts, she goes all in. Asking about what kind of perfume you wear, your favorite shade of lipstick, what kind of outfits you like the most. All of it is under the pretense of getting to know you better, and while she does enjoy that aspect of it, she might start adopting some of the things you find appealing. She is 100% gonna ask to borrow your shirts and makeup, and extends the same offer to you.

Trish is far more playful with you than the others, who all just kinda stare at the interactions like ??? When you were her bodyguard, she always subconsciously went to sit down next to you. No one else on the team can say anything, since she’s the boss’ daughter after all !! She considered you more of a distraction from her anxiety inducing situation at first, seeing as you had shared interests to speak about. Over time, your doting nature over her won out.

Would be pissed if you ever got hurt trying to defend her. You might joke around about how you’re her bodyguard, not the other way around. Trish just can’t bear the thought of losing someone important to her, after all she’s already lost.

Her phone background is a selfie the two of you took, even after she eventually distances herself from Passione to advance her singing career. Expect lots of texts messages, checking up on how you’re doing!! Trish unfortunately has a busy schedule, that requires a lot of traveling for her concerts and other bookings. Though anytime she is near Naples, she’s messaging you and asking to meet up. <33

753 notes · View notes

k-s-morgan · 3 years

Note

Hi! In this fandom we tend to analyse things from Will’s perspective mostly, very rarely we tend to try to understand the plot from Hannibal’s.

That being said, do you think Hannibal knows Will loves him/is in love with him/aches for him as well? To me, personally, he doesn’t know or is very insecure about it. Up until the cliff moment when they hug and almost kiss, it seems to me Hannibal is always trying to “win Will over”, to make Will his own and that he’s smitten with Will but unsure if his feelings are reciprocated.

I personally think that Hannibal is very insecure in regards to Will’s romantic feelings towards him and that’s why he acts out so much on S3 especially. What are your thoughts?

Cheers!

Hello! True - I think most metas are focused on Will. He’s such a strange and complex character, understanding him is extremely difficult at times. In comparison, Hannibal seems so simple :D

I think there are definitely several perspectives possible here. In my eyes, I believe Hannibal *is* certain that Will loves him for the most part, and this certainty helps him keep his faith and overcome even seemingly impossible barriers. Throughout the show, it is portrayed like Hannibal knows Will better than anyone else, including Will himself. He sees right through him during their very first meeting and afterward, and he’s certain of Will’s darkness and true desires before Will accepts and understands them himself.

Hannibal seems like a huge optimist to me. He’s so confident that WIll is going to want to be a father to Abigail with him, that Will is going to Become, that he’s not going to freak out at Hannibal’s direct approach of “Murder must feel good to God, too. He does it all the time, and are we not created in His image?” So I think Hannibal knows that Will loves him way before Will understands it himself - that would be consistent with his other knowledge.

That’s why Hannibal is so certain that Will is going to forgive him for framing and Abigail. He’s waiting for him to accept it, and to his delight, Will seems to be doing that sooner than expected. But then Mizumono happens and Hannibal is heartbroken. His knowledge of what is and what isn’t became a mix of confused feelings and thoughts, so he could no longer be objective.

In Europe, after he had time to calm down, I think he started to understand what motivated Will again, but he wasn’t sure. He continued to be torn up, alternating between hope and despair, until Dolce. They reunited, and in that moment, Hannibal got a read on Will again. He sensed love, closeness, and unity. But the moment ended quickly, the knife followed, and Hannibal lashed out again.

It all ended in Digestivo, where the risks of losing Will for real became too high. Hannibal watched Will attack Cordell, likely realized he manipulated Alana, faced him almost dying, and his resolution hardened again. In their break-up talk, Hannibal tries to reason with Will.

Will: The teacup is broken. It'll never gather itself back together again.

Hannibal: Not even in your mind? Your memory palace is building. It's full of new things. It shares some rooms with my own.

It’s as if he’s encouraging Will to look deeper into himself, to see and recognize what’s there. Darkness is closely connected with love in this show, so I think they two go together in all regards.

Will rejects him, and Hannibal gives himself up. I think it’s the biggest evidence of his blind optimism and frantic faith in Will. He’s certain that one day, Will will return to him. That he’s going to understand he loves Hannibal and wants the life only he can offer. Hannibal is prepared to lose years of his life for this fragile chance rather than live without Will, so he’s waiting, quietly hopeful.

Hannibal’s confidence takes some hits after Will plays his cruel games on him. He’s completely devastated after the mic drop, and he sounds so bitter when Will refuses to accept even the fact that he set up Chilton.

Hannibal: Does the enemy inside you agree with the accusation? Even a little bit?

He’s almost hopeless now, both about Will accepting his darkness and his love for Hannibal. This sounds so desperate:

Hannibal: Will... was it good to see me?

Hannibal is feeling so down, but we can see that this changes when he learns that Will didn’t leave, that Will is planning to fake his escape. Hannibal agrees to this plan, even though he knows that chances are, Will is setting him up again to kill him. He still shows blind faith: he’s firmly convinced that Will loves him enough to choose him. That’s why he looks at him questionanigly in the van - he’s waiting to see what he’s going to do, he’s certain that there must be something. Equally, he’s looking at Will when Francis is about to kill him, hoping, waiting for his intervention.

So I think Hannibal almost always knew that a part of Will loves him, but he came close to giving up on the fact that one day, WIll is going to acknowledge this. It’s not that he was trying to win him over - he was trying to convince him to accept the truth. In S4, I’d love to see Will being more open about his feelings, and Hannibal’s vulnerable delight and happiness at being proven right.

That’s how I see it.

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #meta #will graham

142 notes · View notes

ffangirlingsince2001 · 3 years

Text

End of the Tunnel: VIII

Description: It’s almost been a year since Freed Weasley was lost to the Battle of Hogwarts, and for George Weasley it might as well be an eternity. He is lost in the dark, no color to be found. Until suddenly there might be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Warnings: ANGST, self deprecation, language

A/N: Hey, if you enjoy this series, please be a doll and vote on what you want my next series to be here. Descriptions of the five options available are there and I want to write what the people want to read. Thank you for all your support!

MASTERLIST

***

George though that making it through May 2nd meant he was home free. He thought he was better, he thought that with Hannah by his side he was unstoppable. He had come to terms with being what you might call friends with Draco fucking Malfoy. He was on top of the world, and he was sure nothing could pull him down.

He was so fucking sure, until the anniversary of Fred’s funeral.

He woke up to an empty bed, Hannah had gone to work early, leaving a draft in her place. The one morning when he was sure he needed her more than anything else, she was gone. He shouldn’t blame her; she didn’t know the day. They had both been so sure that the storm had passed after May 2nd.

With a great effort he rolled over and groaned. He told himself he should get up and go to work, but he couldn’t bear it. His body ached and his heart was heavy. He could imagine the funeral, the number of people that patted him on the shoulder and the pity they had all offered him. He hadn’t wanted any of their pity, he had just wanted his brother back. While he hadn’t shed any tears that day, when they lowered him into the ground his whole world had shattered.

The world was ending all over again.

He couldn’t believe he hadn’t talked to Fred’s painting at the event. He knew it wouldn’t be the same, and he had been a bit distracted by other matters at hand, but that was the problem wasn’t it. He was distracted from his own brother, his best friend, and the one person who had really understood him.

When Ron had first attacked him, he had been indignant, sure that being friends with Malfoy was important to overcoming the prejudices that had been formed long before he was born, but now he wasn’t so sure.

What would Fred think? Would he agree or would he be just as angry as Ron had been? The pit in his stomach sunk lower. Not only that but he was dating a girl, who Malfoy would have wanted to kill little over a year ago. Was Ron, right? Had George pinned the execution notice to her door and led her to the guillotine. He might as well pull the rope too, clap with the crowd while her blood stained the sidewalk.

NO! He would never, he wasn’t, he couldn’t. She had been friends with him first, and she had been fine long before he showed up, amazing even. They had lived together, she had helped him, and he had helped her. If Malfoy had wanted to kill her, he would have done it long before George came along. She was safe, he would protect her before he would ever hurt her.

George allowed himself to relax a little through the sadness, but then sorrow turned to rage as an evil thought wriggled its way into his mind.

Had she loved him? Malfoy said he loved Sloane, but had she just been an accident along the way of a different tragic love story? Malfoy had killed for her, would he do that for someone he didn’t love in return? Had they ever drifted around each other while cleaning up late at night, fingers ghosted as they washed and dried the mugs? Had their eyes met and then had she let him kiss her? His mind drifted further and before he could put a stop to it, he could picture them in bed, rolling around beneath sheets while she made noises that he had once felt lucky enough to hold privately within his memory.

She would have told him.

He sat up, slamming his fist into the wall as he stalked towards the bathroom. He had reinstalled the mirror a few weeks ago, but now it seemed like a foolish idea. Fred was staring back at him, so disappointed George threw up in the sink. Wiping his lips, he returned his gaze to the exhausted looking face in the mirror. If he imagined an ear where the was none and put on a big smile it would have been the same picture they used at the funeral.

“What am I doing?” he muttered but no response came. “Fred, what the fuck am I doing?” he screamed but no response came. He yelled again, slamming his hands against the porcelain of the sink, knuckles turning white as he held it for support. With a sudden thrash of his body he punched the mirror. It shattered and his hand was bleeding, not that he could feel any of the wounds. It was so difficult to notice trivial things like pain when anger was so overpowering.

It felt wrong to be so angry, so lonely and numb when everywhere he turned there was love. He was loved by so many, but when only silence mixed with his heavy breathing, he had never felt more alone. Pain grabbed his heart and squeezed until he found himself sitting on the cold floor of the bathroom, drowning in thoughts that would have seemed impossible the night before. The disappointment Fred would feel, the sound of Malfoy and Hannah interlocked in something he couldn’t understand, and the overwhelming loneliness that seemed to be sitting on his chest.

And that’s where he remained until later that evening when Hannah opened the door. By the time she returned he had rehearsed, and rewritten, and scrapped everything he wanted to say. Fear had accused, but love had sacked the idea. Now all he was left with was anger, about both things that he couldn’t control and things that he was not sure had even happened.

“George?” she called, and he stalked out of the bathroom, fists clenched by his side. She hadn’t seen him yet, her head in the fridge as she put away the few groceries she had picked up after work. He tried to collect his thoughts, to decide what to say before she noticed him, but he wasn’t fast enough. “Oh George, you look awful are you alright? Did something happen at work?”

“Did you ever shag Malfoy?” She flinched away as if he had slapped her, eyes wide at the accusation. He can’t believe those were the words that had managed to push through everything he was feeling. A fleeting thought hours ago, and that’s what he greeted her with.

“Excuse me?” He was going to apologize, but that’s not what he ended up saying.

“You heard me. Did you ever shag Draco fucking Malfoy?”

“No, I never shagged Draco. And I never will shag Draco. Where is this coming from?” she approached him but he jerked away. That seemed to hurt her more than the accusation. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not fucking okay.”

“Come here, let me help you,” she pleaded, hand outstretched in front of her. He pushed it away, turning to stare at the wall. “George, please.” She rested her hand against his back, words soft and comforting, and rational George wanted to fall into her arms. Rational George was begging to cry and let her lead him to bed. Rational George fought tooth and nail against what happened next, but angry George easily tossed him to the side as he turned around, malice in his eyes.

“Stop trying to be him,” he yelled but she only looked confused.

“Who?”

“Fred.”

“I’m not trying to be,” she replied, and she wasn’t but that didn’t stop him from laughing maliciously as he advanced, fists by his side.

“You’ll never be as good as him.”

“I’m not trying to be,” she screamed in response, tears streaming down her face.

“You’re just someone to make me feel loved, but you can’t even manage that can you?”

“How can you say that?” she cried, vigorously wiping away tears as she tried to remain strong.

“Because it’s true. You’re never here when I need you, for all I know you’re out with Malfoy, wishing you were Sloane while I’m stuck at home waiting for you.” It was all bullshit, he didn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth, but that didn’t stop him from continuing. “And I’m sick of waiting.”

“What are you saying?” she managed through the tears. Rational George screamed one more time, begging him to apologize but the wrong words were already out of his mouth.

“I’m telling you to get out.” The world stopped, and while it had felt like it was ending earlier that morning, it seemed that was only a ruse. She burst into tears, falling to her knees in front of him. Rational George begged him to hold her, but he only watched stoically. He was so angry at the world that he couldn’t bring himself to fight for her, especially when he was the enemy he was trying to defend her from.

“George-.”

“I said, get out,” he growled and with heavy steps she dragged herself away like a kicked puppy. She glanced over her shoulder one more time as she pulled open the door. A final plea rested on her tongue, but she couldn’t bring herself to beg when he was staring at her so coldly. He had never been so cold, always warmth, but it was hard to remember she had ever felt heat from him when he was staring at her like that. So, instead of begging, instead of crying, instead of refusing to leave she took the dreaded step into the hallway.

“You know where to find me.” And then the door clicked shut. He stared at him, heavy breathing the only thing that filled the room as her sobs slowly disappeared from earshot. Then, the room turned into a rampage.

He flipped the table, allowing the remaining groceries to fly across the room and crumble into small heaps against the wall. Rational George and angry George worked as one as they mourned their loss. He flipped chairs, their legs burying into the drywall before falling to the ground with a clatter.

He swiped dishes from the counter and to the floor, not even bothering to wait for the satisfaction of hearing them shatter against the floor. He ripped a cabinet from the wall and hurled it away. He marched towards the bathroom and ripped the shelf from the wall. Products fell to the floor, shattering upon impact. The nails left holes in the wall, but they paled in comparison to the one his fist left as he screamed.

He marched towards the door. He was going to go after her. He was going to pull her into his arms and beg for forgiveness. He was going to, no force on the earth could stop him, except the wave of self-hatred that washed over him the moment he touched the doorknob.

Why would she want him back?

He had thrown her out without an ounce of remorse, accused her of sleeping with a friend without proof, and told her she would never be enough. No one in their right mind would take him back. If he was her he would never want to see him again.

His hand fell from the door and he fell to his bed, eyes squeezed shut. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he lay there, half in bed, half out. He was no better than he had been that morning, sad and wishing that the love of his life was laying beside him.

#george weasley #george weasley angst #george weasley fluff #george weasley smut #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfic #george weasley imagines #george weasley x reader #george weasley x reader smut #george weasley x reader angst #george weasley x reader fluff #george weasley x reader imagine #george weasley x reader imagines #george weasley x reader fanfiction #george weasley x reader fanfic #end of the tunnel

74 notes · View notes

pahrak-the-sinnoh-slizer · 3 years

Text

Right of Law, Section XXX

(Faced with top operatives from Odina, the Makuta have difficult tasks set before them. Zaekura has it far worse, however, as she finally comes face to face with Ekimu.)

Shadows clung to Bitil, weighing him down as he narrowly threw himself clear of Eliminator’s next bolt. Swinging his arm up, he lobbed a ball of Light at his foe, but the Odinan moved under it to kick Bitil into the pavement.

“I can’t stand it,” Eliminator said. “You Makuta and Toa command the Elements like soldiers, draw them through your body and bend them to your will. With the Keeper’s help, I’ve learned a better way.”

Bitil phased half-way into the ground and backed up a few feet before surfacing. “Please, by all means, continue.”

The darkness of the alleyway twisted as Eliminator slowly moved his arm. “The shadows always liked me. In my...past life, I took their assistance for granted--used the advantage they offered to kill as I pleased. The Great Beings quit tolerating that after I killed General Certavus. But then the Keeper took me to Odina, taught me to listen to the shadows and become true allies with them. Now, we fight together to repay that lesson.”

Essentially, Bitil thought, he’s able to control Shadow without actually channeling it through himself. That’s why my Light attacks don’t bother him all that much. So, now I know why he has such an advantage against me...but I’m not sure I see a way to overcome it.

“And the shadows hate you much more than I do,” Eliminator said, the darkness around him deepening. “You’ve totally rejected them for your precious Light. Thousands and thousands of years might’ve passed...but the shadows will always remember.”

The darkness surged towards Bitil. He turned invulnerable, hoping he could hold on until he spotted an opening. Mid-way through the assault, however, Eliminator struck him with another bolt, and Bitil could feel his strength drop sharply. He couldn’t hold his invulnerability, and the tide of shadows slammed him into the wall. Dazed, Bitil tried to call upon any of his powers to defend himself, but none came.

“Your arrogance ends here,” Eliminator said. “There’s no one left for you to command.”

His talons sparked as he took aim. Bitil pulled on his errant focus, preparing to dodge as best he could, when Eliminator turned his head sharply. A second later, he leaned to one side, and Azin lashed out from the darkness, swiping a dagger through Eliminator’s aura of shadow.

“Azin?!” Bitil exclaimed, now finding the strength to drive himself to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

Azin gave a short hiss as he leapt back, avoiding Eliminator’s talons. Eliminator launched a bolt at him, but it swerved before reaching him, instead striking the street about a yard away. While Azin moved back in, Bitil realized that the alleyway was beginning to brighten--the process was slow, but he could soon see three more Rahkshi on the battlefield.

“What--I said I would handle this! He’s a dangerous foe!”

Azin’s daggers locked against Eliminator’s talons. The Odinan’s whole body could be seen now, a towering, ebon-armored giant with four appendages on his back holding Kanoka disks. Straining, Azin shouted to Bitil.

“Well…” The Makuta paused a moment. Then, remembering he was still in a fight, he sent Eliminator sprawling with a burst of electricity. “...Thank you.”

Eliminator was up immediately, only a few faint shadows wisping around him now. “Hmph...more soldiers at your disposal? Are you going to leave them to fight your battle while you retreat?”

Bitil took a few steps forward, using one of the strips of fabric hanging from his armor to polish his sword. “Odinan, you gravely misunderstand who you are dealing with. Firstly, my children came to aid me of their own free will, not because I ordered them here. And second...I’m offended you would so much as imply that I would ever abandon them.”

Eliminator fired a bolt. Again, it flew wide.

“Oh, you needn’t bother with that.” Bitil motioned to a blue and purple Rahkshi. “Meet Imis. They are a Rahkshi of Accuracy with inverted powers, meaning that they can force all of their target’s attacks to miss.”

Imis twirled their staff with a chuckle.

“You’re already acquainted with Azin. He’s a Rahkshi of Chameleon, so skilled in stealth that it seems even your friends the shadows couldn’t detect him until he was right upon you.”

Azin stayed low, his eyes fixed on Eliminator. The Odinan rushed forward, but Bitil parried him and held him in place as Azin darted to the side to strike at his back.

“Tsk, tsk, I haven’t finished introductions yet. If you’re wondering about the abrupt change in lighting, that would be the handiwork of Daleer.”

Standing at the edge of the alleyway was a black and red Rahkshi. He trembled subtly, but kept a firm grip on his staff as he held it upright.

“He’s a Rahkshi of Darkness...but that’s never been the most accurate term for the power. Put more precisely, he can control how much light is in a given area, usually by reducing it...but also by increasing it.”

Eliminator backed off, projecting another force field to block Bitil’s follow-up attack. Shifting his weight, one of the appendages on his back moved, throwing the disk it carried right at Daleer. The final Rahkshi intercepted the projectile. White-hot sparks crackled over xyr light blue armor as xe reached out, and the disk broke into hundreds of tiny pieces on contact with xyr hand.

“And xe,” Bitil said, “is Kerba. One of the first power inversions I attempted: a Rahkshi of Regeneration turned to a Rahkshi of Molecular Disruption. There’s nothing in this world xe can’t break.”

“I almost pity them all,” Eliminator said. “Mutant freaks, because you had to force your will on them before they were even born.”

Bitil stabbed Eliminator’s shield. His blade may not have pierced it, but his glare easily did. “Gross misinterpretation is one thing. But insulting my children is another altogether. Accuse me of subjugating them if you wish--I know for a fact I have not. Ones such as yourself, leveling baseless disdain at them, are the ones seeking to bind them by your selfish will! Yet you say you ‘pity’ them, you repugnant worm? What makes you think you are worth enough to bestow pity upon them?!”

Eliminator dared not break eye contact, his instincts convinced that it was the only thing stopping that glare from smiting him where he stood. The shadows whispered something, but he couldn’t make out what. He realized Azin was behind him only as the Rahkshi tackled him to the ground. Bitil used his Slow powers to give Kerba enough time to get close, destroying Eliminator’s remaining disks, and Azin locked his limbs around the Odinan in a tight hold. The shadows tried to push him off, but they were far too weak.

“Rrrgh...impossible!” Eliminator said as he struggled. “I’ve never failed the Keeper before, and I won’t start now!”

Bitil crouched down in front of his prone foe. “No one likes a sore loser, Odinan. Accept your failure.”

“No...the Keeper doesn’t accept failure…”

Bitil scoffed. “Listen to you, going on and on about how much you hate us for ‘commanding’ the elements, when you’re a slave to the will of your beloved Keeper.”

Eliminator said nothing.

“I’ve always been curious: what is it about this mysterious Keeper that drives you all to follow him so fervently? What sort of being commands such sheer devotion from those who previously couldn’t devote themselves to anything?”

Still, Eliminator said nothing. Bitil began wondering what to do with him when he noticed the shadows swirling.

“Azin, get--”

The shadows swelled into a fountain of darkness, flinging Azin across the alleyway as they enveloped Eliminator’s body. Bitil thought he could hear a faint shout, but if it was truly there, it didn’t last for long. Daleer grunted. The fountain grew just a bit larger before steadily fading away, leaving not a single trace--neither of it, nor Eliminator.

Bitil tapped a finger against the hilt of his sword. “Azin, are you alright?”

The Rahkshi hissed as he climbed to his feet.

“Good.” Bitil turned to look over him and the others. “Thank you all again--I’m in your debt. While I’m not...entirely sure what’s become of our foe...suffice to say this particular skirmish is over, and we’d best be moving on. Has anyone received word from Zaekura?”

The Rahkshi shook their heads.

“Then we must assume she’s still headed for the stadium--I’ll head there. If any of you need to rest, you should withdraw.”

Bitil made for the end of the alley, the four Rahkshi hissing as they followed him. He sheathed his sword, allowed himself a brief chuckle, and then turned all his focus on his goal.

***

Brutaka kicked Ehlek aside, barely feeling his electric counterattack, and then locked swords with Nocturn and pushed against him. Pridak stood behind them, shaking slightly as he mended a wound in his armor.

“So now you realize you cannot win,” Brutaka said, sending Nocturn sprawling with a jab. “I possess the ability to absorb antidermis to increase my own power. It isn’t permanent, but it lasts long enough for a single fight, at least.”

Pridak growled, clutching his wound.

“It is hopeless. With every injury you sustain, I grow even stronger. Heheh...I see it’s enough to make even a Makuta tremble in fear!”

“You think this is fear?” Pridak mumbled. “You are mistaken, Odinan…”

Pridak looked up. His eyes were ablaze, face twisted into a scowl so hideous his Kanohi became unrecognizable.

“I am simply unable to contain my fury.”

Pridak made a reckless dash towards the object of his ire. Brutaka stabbed his sword out--an easy move to dodge, but one that would allow him to guide Pridak into a deadlier follow-up. But Pridak did not dodge. Allowing himself to be run through, Pridak pressed forward without flinching, leaving Brutaka too shocked to avoid the Makuta’s own swords and earning him a tremendous gash running from his shoulder down over his chest. He could still see Pridak’s hideous scowl burning through the rising plume of antidermis, the blood from his wound painting one side of his mask.

“You…‘born to defeat Makuta’. Your existence alone is defiance of our holy will. How dare you? How dare you exist?”

Brutaka stumbled back. After making it only a few steps, Nocturn grabbed hold of his ankle, making him trip over backward. Ehlek pounced instantly, gouging Brutaka with his talons. Despite the sharp and sudden pain, Brutaka refused to cry out.

“Taking my essence for your own…” Pridak ripped Ehlek off of Brutaka. “What makes you think you could ever be worthy?!”

Brutaka made a gateway just in time, escaping as Pridak plunged one sword into the sand he had laid upon. He re-emerged behind the Makuta, taking in the cloud of antidermis there, and then moved a considerable distance away. “Haven’t you put it together? The Great Beings gave me this ability. They knew a day might come when you Makuta would become a threat, so they set about crafting a countermeasure. If you Makuta are ‘holy’ for the gifts they’ve given you, then am I not as well?”

He retreated into a gateway as a huge stream of plasma came his way. Opening another above Pridak, he fired a beam of his own, only for Pridak to turn invulnerable, spring up through it, and grab Brutaka by the neck. “When did I say the Great Beings bestowed our holiness upon us?”

Brutaka pulled back in an attempt to escape Pridak’s grip. Pridak yanked him out just the same, pressing his mask against Brutaka’s and activating a Power Scream.

“IT IS OURS, AND OURS ALONE!”

The shriek left Brutaka’s ears ringing. He took in more of Pridak’s antidermis, hoping to use its power to break free. This time, however, something else came with the rush of strength. It was a voice. A voice he could hear all too clearly despite his damaged eardrums.

Retribution...retribution...retribution...

He quickly realized it was Pridak’s voice. And it was growing louder.

Retribution...retribution!

Pridak punched Brutaka in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. “You have committed a grave offense against me, Odinan. There will be no mercy for you.”

Brutaka managed to push free, falling into a gateway and trying to clear his thoughts. “What is this...it’s like he’s inside my head!”

Retribution! Retribution! Retribution! Retribution!

It was then Brutaka remembered something he had forgotten a long time ago. Visions of his earliest days came to him, days when the Great Beings watched him experiment with his powers, absorbing vast quantities of antidermis.

“That’s right...if I take in too much at once…”

RETRIBUTION! RETRIBUTION!

He clutched his head. It was too late to do anything about it now, and his wounds needed serious attention to boot. Much as he hated the idea, he knew retreat was his best option, and so he opened up a gateway.

“I’ll come back. This isn’t over…”

As he crawled out of the gateway, something grabbed him. Looking up, he realized with horror that it was Pridak, still burning with rage.

“What?! But I should be--gaah!”

RETRIBUTION!

Pridak hoisted him up. He realized his mistake: forming gateways required a great deal of focus, and that was something he had virtually none of at this point.

RETRIBUTION!

His thoughts were no longer his own, with Pridak’s essence within him now taking reign of them. Given that was where his thoughts lay, it was no wonder he had only been able to deposit himself directly at the Makuta’s feet.

RETRIBUTION!

Pridak stabbed Brutaka once more for good measure before dropping him in a crumpled heap. “You cannot possibly suffer enough for trying to consume me, Odinan.”

RETRIBUTION!

“However...I think I know a punishment that at least seems fitting.”

RETRIBUTION!

Brutaka couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. All he could do was watch as Pridak stepped back and threw his arms apart. Light erupted from his chest, molding into a long, tentacle-like arm that wrapped its fingers around Brutaka and immediately began to pull. In what fraction of his mind was still his own, Brutaka realized what was happening.

RETRIBUTION!

As his last act, he finally screamed.

RETRIBUTION!

Energy filled Pridak as he finished absorbing Brutaka, immediately using it to restore his armor and replenish his lost antidermis. He flexed his claws, then his arms, and then reared back to shout into the sky.

“Are you watching, O Great Beings? This is the fate of any who would try to deny me! I don’t care if the foe was made to kill me, or even if they made me! Stand against me...and perish!”

He exhaled loudly. Holding out his arms, he waited as servants came to take his swords. Then, he gestured to Nocturn and Ehlek, turned towards the city, and marched.

***

Brandishing a fragment of a railing she had found on the side of the road, Zaekura beat her way into what remained of the stadium, fighting with more than she realized she had against the current of Skull Spiders in relentless pursuit of its source. A group of Toa controlled by the creatures came into view. Even as they raised their weapons, Zaekura was too furious to slow down.

“Move!”

She acted without thinking. Elemental powers came flying towards her, but the compromised faculties of their wielders slowed them considerably. Zaekura tumbled through an opening, stayed low as she knocked the Toa’s feet out from under them, and then sprang forward without a second thought, knowing the Rahkshi were already incapacitating them. Soon she reached the room where the spiders’ pen was kept, and finally she stopped. Up ahead, back to her as he surveyed the ruined arena, stood Ekimu.

“You.”

Zaekura stalked forward. Ahkmou, still under the thrall of a Skull Spider, stepped towards her, but she batted him aside without missing a beat. Halfway across the room, she collided with something--an invisible wall keeping Ekimu safe. She began to bash her makeshift weapon against it.

“C’mere you coward! I’m gonna make you pay for this mess!”

Ekimu slowly turned to face her. “You aren’t getting through.”

Zaekura swung harder.

“Look at you. You think emotions are going to win this? Pathetic. Here we thought you were evolving, and you’re still nowhere near us.”

“Shut up! You call giving up your sense of decency ‘evolution’? What idiot would actually think that’s an improvement?!”

With her next swing, the metal rod she was carrying snapped in two. The broken piece smacked into her head, opening a small wound. Adjusting her grip, she continued with the part she still had, jamming the broken end into the barrier.

“You’re bleeding,” Ekimu said.

“I know!”

He shook his head. “See? You’re getting carried away, raging against me instead of trying to solve the problem. How stupid.”

Must as she hated to admit it, he had a point. Reluctantly, Zaekura tore herself away from the barrier, examining the pen as thoroughly as her rage would allow. “...Well? Great Beings love talking about their work, right?”

Ekimu took a few steps closer. “What’s there to tell? You’ve seen what they can do.”

Zaekura crouched next to the pen. “Right, hyper-aggressive mind control bugs. But like, why? Why specifically that?”

“I like masks. Always trying to do something new with them. Heard about masks that could be used to control others, so I wanted to put a spin on it.”

“...Okay, not sure what I expected. The heck kind of stasis field is this--how did they all fit? Does it distort space?”

Ekimu didn’t say anything.

“...There’s got to be a failsafe. A recall signal. How do I trigger it…”

Hearing Ekimu’s tools jangling, she looked over her shoulder to see him drawing a switch from his apron pocket.

“...Right. That makes sense. Cool.” Zaekura ran her hands over her face. “Ugh, so that’s no good. Rahkshi already tried Rahi Control and that didn’t work. How am I gonna do this…”

She flinched as a sudden headache came on. After watching her a moment more, Ekimu said, “How about this. I’ll make a deal with you.”

Zaekura rose to her feet. “What?”

“Do what I tell you, and I’ll recall the Skull Spiders. It’s one thing, something easy.”

“...And that would be?”

Ekimu gestured. Zaekura followed to see Ahkmou, the Toa of Stone still laying where she had sent him flying.

“...I don’t--”

“Kill him.”

Zaekura’s eyes widened. “W...what?”

“Kill the Toa, and I’ll recall the spiders.”

“No way! I’m not a killer, you sicko!”

“It’s the only way to save the people of Civitas Magna. You have to pick one.”

Zaekura clenched her teeth. “Why? What do you get out of this?”

Ekimu shrugged. “Curious, I guess. Want to see if you can make this kind of decision. That should tell me exactly where you are in your evolution.”

Zaekura walked up to the barrier, jamming the broken railing into it once more. She then turned to Ahkmou. After a long, long pause, she walked over to him. Stopping just over the Toa, Zaekura glared down at him and tightened her grip on her weapon. Ekimu craned his neck as she stooped, her back blocking his view.

“...There,” she said after a moment.

Ekimu came closer. Zaekura stood, leaving his view unobstructed--as far as he could tell, Ahkmou was unchanged. He turned back to Zaekura, seeing she held a tablet in her hand. It was the same tablet Ahkmou had used to release the spiders in the first place.

“This has loads of information on the spiders,” Zaekura said as she began typing. “And it’s connected to the pen! There must be a way to…” She shut her eyes tight, putting one hand to her forehead. “Not now...not now…”

Ekimu crossed his arms and watched in silence.

Trying to ignore the pain, Zaekura dug through the tablet’s files in search of something she could use. She could only skim over the vast quantities of information--Skull Spider physiology, dimensional calculations for the holding pen, records of behavioral patterns--but there was no time to waste. She paused once more as her headache grew, but pressed on until she had seen every bit of data stored. Lowering the tablet, she stared ahead blankly, and Ekimu waited to hear her say it.

“...There’s nothing,” she murmured. “Nothing here for recalling them. There’s nothing I can use to stop them…”

Ekimu held up his switch. Zaekura turned and stepped away, dropping the piece of railing so she could clutch her head.

“No, I’m not...that isn’t...I...can’t…”

“Those headaches are terrible, aren’t they?” Ekimu said. “That’s the price of accelerating evolution, though. I’d say it’s worth it.”

Zaekura faced him. The rage was all but gone from her eyes, replaced with a curiosity. “...That’s really what they are? We thought so, but…”

Ekimu nodded. “Mm-hm. Surprised to see it’s happening to you, though. I thought it was just that ugly creature that made it happen. Guess it’s something a little different after all.”

“Creature? What are you--” She grunted as the pain grew even worse. Looking at the tablet in her hand, she remembered what she was here to do--how had she forgotten? She lamented again the fact that the device was useless to her, full of nothing but page after page of raw data. Zaekura looked up. “...Huh. I only took a glance, but...I...”

Skull Spiders were omnivorous. They could adapt to any climate, though they thrived in temperate conditions. A handful of specimens possessed enhanced senses--the remnants of an abandoned feature Ekimu planned to reimplement in the next generation. They were aggressive even towards their own kind, hence why they had to be stored in stasis, though in the presence of other creatures they would put all in-fighting on hold. And for some reason, despite how quickly she had skimmed over all of this, Zaekura could recall it all perfectly.

“Their mind control ability...it’s a targeted link psionic function, with the framework doubling as a way to coordinate the swarm. Interesting…”

Ekimu raised an eyebrow.

“Hang on. Doesn’t that mean--” The next flash of pain brought her to her knees. Zaekura shouted through her teeth, “No, no! I’ve got it! I just...just need...haah!”

She turned the tablet over. Using the broken end of the railing, she was able to pry off the outer casing, and took a moment to note the placement of all its components. To Ekimu’s horror, she then ripped them out.

“This’ll work...this will work!”

The pain in her head was constant now, but she worked anyway. Leaving only a few wires directly connected to the tablet, she began to arrange the components on the ground and made her way over to the pen, feeling down one of the metal posts at its corners until she found a removable panel.

“Yes, perfect!”

She yanked a small gadget out of the post. The field sparked, wavered, and blinked out, leaving only the skeleton of a box behind. Zaekura tossed the gadget alongside the rest, and then jumped up and grabbed the top of the post with both hands. It bent as gravity pulled her back to the ground, and with the help of a kick at its center, she snapped it in two. She felt like her skull was being ground into dust. Dropping down on all fours, Zaekura disassembled a few of the components she had laid out in a flash before reassembling them in a new configuration. Arranging it alongside the remaining components, she grabbed the wiring and linked them all together, finally picking up the broken post and taking it back to where the tablet lay.

“Almost there...almost there…”

The pain intensified. Zaekura curled up, digging her fingers into her head, and whimpered. Her brain was a boiling puddle, and the fire that had melted it was starting to spread down her spinal cord. She extended one shaking hand, clawing at the floor, dragging herself over to the tablet.

“Al...most...there…!”

Zaekura pushed herself onto her knees, then onto her feet. She thrust the piece of post into the ceiling, waiting a moment to be sure it would stay, and then breathed deeply and reactivated the tablet.

“I see,” Ekimu said. “Those parts will do what you’re aiming for, but you’d need to--”

“Shut up!” Zaekura yelled. “Just...shut up...already!”

The screen lit up. Zaekura adjusted one of the wires. Static briefly covered the screen, and once it stabilized, she opened a window and began typing.

“This...needs to do that...and then...this...to that...and...uh…”

She shuddered violently as the pain continued to spread.

“Th-this...uh...do...that…and...”

She could barely see the screen right in front of her eyes, but she was sure of what she had typed. Zaekura took another deep breath as she fought to stay on her feet. Keeping her finger as steady as possible, she reached for the button to execute her new program.

“Done!”

Power surged through the web of components, ultimately erupting in a bolt that shot from the tablet casing up to the post in the ceiling. With a high-pitched whine, the energy shot outward in a quick-moving pulse, passing through the walls and spreading out over the city. Then, for a moment, all was silent. Ahkmou stirred. The legs of the Skull Spider controlling him snapped open, and the creature peeled itself off of the Toa’s face.

Zaekura grinned. “Yes…”

The spider then scuttled off, leaving the room and heading down the arena wall. Ekimu asked, “Where is it going?”

“The Maze,” Zaekura said. “I changed the...recall coordinates...they’re all headed...for the Maze…”

Ekimu blinked. Turning to look out the balcony, he saw hundreds more Skull Spiders rushing in the same direction, leaving behind any Toa or Matoran they might have held. “...Huh.”

Zaekura fell back to her knees. “Ha...haha...I did it…”

Looking at her, Ekimu said, “That...shouldn’t have been possible. You can’t be that evolved.”

Zaekura said nothing--she was panting too hard to form a single word.

“...Well, you’ve made a more pressing issue for me. Heremus won’t be happy if those things show up at the Maze in force.”

She glared at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her collapse.

“Too many disloyal Makuta here, and the Odinans are down...alright. You win.” He paused to snap his fingers. “I’m leaving. But on my way, I’m razing Artidax to the ground for sheltering you.”

His words were distant, muffled. Zaekura watched as a winged figure materialized next to Ekimu, and in the next instant, they were both gone. She waited a few more seconds to be sure of it. Then, her consciousness finally succumbed to the pain.

“Zaekura!”

She started awake. A dull throbbing still filled her head, but compared to what she had felt earlier it was nothing. Blinking a few times, she started to process what she was seeing: Bitil and a handful of his Rahkshi were standing over her.

“Lady Zaekura,” Bitil said, “are you alright?”

“Y...yeah,” Zaekura mumbled, gradually sitting up. “Sorry to worry you. I’m alive.”

The group collectively breathed a sigh of relief. Gently grabbing her shoulder, Bitil said, “Are you sure you should move? It may be better if you rest until we can get a doctor here.”

“It’s okay, really. Uh, how long was I out?”

“Can’t have been more than ten minutes.”

“Really? I wouldn’t expect to feel so well-rested after just that.” She let Bitil help her up. “I got rid of the Skull Spiders. What’s our status otherwise?”

Bitil nodded towards the wall. A cracked viewscreen was hung there, the damage minor enough that it still functioned. Displayed on it was Gaaki, the Ga-Matoran standing behind a short desk as she spoke to the camera, doing her best to keep her voice clear despite her audible fatigue.

“I repeat,” she said. “Lord Ekimu unleashed a swarm of some strange creature upon the city, one capable of taking control of the minds of beings who wear Kanohi! At this moment, they seem to be retreating, but exercise caution! From what we’ve seen, control is absolute: you will be unable to protect yourself from danger if one claims you! We will provide updates as they become available. Until then, I implore Lord Ekimu to take control of this situation he has caused! This--”

As she continued, Zaekura turned back to Bitil. “That seems good. Assuming people believe her, I guess…”

“Many already do,” Bitil said. “All resistance has stopped. If the spiders are truly taken care of, then we should be able to leave here unimpeded.”

“Oh. Great! Let’s go, then, we…”

She faced the exit and stopped. Krika and Yarion both stood waiting for her.

“Uh...hi.”

“No need to worry,” Krika said. “Yarion, this is Zaekura. Zaekura, this is Makuta Yarion, Guardian of Civitas Magna.”

Yarion bowed. “It’s an honor to meet you, Miss Zaekura. I’m afraid I have much to apologize for.”

Krika glanced about. “May I ask what happened to Ekimu?”

Zaekura grinned and gave a thumbs-up. “Kicked him out. He’s running home to the Maze right now.”

“Ah, that must be why Vamprah left in such a hurry.”

“Probably. Anyway, Yarion...we don’t want any trouble.”

They shook their head. “Nor do I. I’ve had quite enough of carrying out the Great Beings’ dreadful orders. If at all possible...I was actually hoping to negotiate terms of surrender.”

Zaekura inclined her head. “...Huh? Really?”

“Yes. It’s quite clear to me--and perhaps most of Civitas Magna now--that the Great Beings do not have our best interests at heart. You, on the other hand, have given us every reason to trust you. As Guardian of this city, I declare Civitas Magna to be yours, if you will have it.”

Zaekura stared at them. After a gentle nudge from Bitil, she said, “Oh, uh...yeah. Sure. Or, um, I accept. We’ll, uh, discuss terms shortly--I want to round everyone up first, if that’s okay.”

“Of course. I think I could also use some time to…” Their eyes fell to the blasters attached to their arms. “...ah, compose myself…shall I await you at my office?”

“Sounds great.”

Yarion excused themself then. Zaekura said, “Hey can someone get in touch with Pridak? Immediately?”

“I took the liberty of dispatching a messenger while you were still unconscious,” Bitil said.

“Thanks.” She let out a breath as she sat down on the ground. “I’m gonna take, like...five minutes, if that’s alright?”

“Worry not, Lady Zaekura. I’ll gather everyone together while you recuperate.”

“I appreciate it.”

As Bitil departed, Krika said, “Well. Things took quite a turn, but you indisputably came out on top.”

Zaekura chuckled. “It’s still processing...but, yeah. We control Civitas Magna now. Huh.”

“And we’re allied with those controlling most of Bota Magna, as well as Aqua Magna. Not to mention the powerful claim we’ve staked on Bara Magna.”

Zaekura nodded, then rested her head in one hand. I can’t believe we’ve come this far. I mean, there’s still a lot more to do, but...man. We actually came this far.

#Bionicle #fanfiction #Right of Law #Melding Universe

2 notes · View notes

prrplwtch · 4 years

Note

Angst hc request??? How would the brothers react to MC (gender neutral pls) breaking up with them for different reasons?? 😭😭😭😭 (Like, for lucifer it could be feeling like diavolo comes first, asmo bcos u think he might cheat, satan for anger issues, etc, etc??

Hi :) Thanks for the ask 💜

Lucifer:

Lucifer does not see the breakup coming. To him everything is normal and he does not even suspect that his s/o might be unhappy.

Though if he was completely honest with himself, there probably were signs. But our boy is too proud to acknowledge that something is wrong.

When MC asks to have a talk Lucifer cannot even imagine that it would be the break up convo.

When MC informs him that they are breaking up with him, he feels like the ground is gone from under his feet.

He does not show his distress of course - and tries to not show his anger as much as he can. He tries to act as “icy” towards MC as possible

When he hears that it is because of Diablo, he wants to scream - his devotion, the deal he made so many years ago literally took everything from him.

He’ll never show it of course.

After the break up conversation, he does not talk to MC, unless absolutely necessary, and even then acts “icy”.

On the inside, Lucifer is not sure if he wants the exchange program to end immediately so that he never has to see MC again, or if he wants it to last as long as possible - because he is still hoping against hope that MC will return to him.

Internally very sad and though he tries not to show it his brothers know. His temper becomes worse, his punishments harsher.

Lucifer finds himself losing all hope of ever having another meaningful romantic relationship - because he is still deeply in love with MC and because he thinks that whoever else he meets would probably also not deal to well with his devotion to Diablo.

Mammon:

Mammon had been sensing that something was off for a while, but whenever he asked, MC would simply brush it off.

Then one day when MC tells Mammon that they want to talk, Mammon acts all confident, but on the inside he is super anxious. Cue a lot of “The Great Mammon” mentions leading up to the fateful break up conversation.

Even though he was worried for a while that MC wants to break up, when MC actually says it, it hurts. And hurts a lot.

He tries not to show it of course, but, unlike Lucifer, he does not have the best poker face, so he is pretty sure MC can see that he is about to cry.

When he hears that the reason for the break up is that MC finds him unreliable, his heart completely shatters.

Mammon does not even finish the conversation - he runs out of the room, out of the House of Lamentation and is not seen for at least a week. His brothers are worried, but he does not respond to texts or calls - he simply cannot be in the same house as MC or around them at all.

Eventually, Mammon has to return to the house. It hurts a lot to be back, and he tries his best to avoid MC. The best way he can think of is to either be locked in his room or to go out.

Trying to distract himself from the pain of the heartbreak, Mammon gambles and goes out a lot. He does not even care what others think - if even MC called him unreliable, there is no hope for him now.

Mammon cannot wait until the exchange program is over - every time he sees MC, it hurts so much, that he can hardly bear it.

Becomes more depressed as time passes, since MC was an important source of emotional support for him and one of the few people who treated him well.

Leviathan

Levi still could not believe that someone like him could have landed a s/o like MC, so when they initiate a break up conversation he reacts surprisingly calmly.

During the break up conversation, a lot of self deprecating comments like “of course I knew you didn’t actually like a yucky otaku like me”.

While he is putting up a brave face, on the inside he is hurting. And it hurts even more when he learns that the reason for the break up are his interests - such is anime and video games.

Levi feels kind of betrayed - he shared everything that he loved with MC and he thought that they genuinely shared his passions, but as it turns out they did not.

Wants the break up conversation to be over as soon as possible.

Gets really sad and sulky after it is over and does not leave his room for a very long while, spending all his time on his anime and video games, feeling that they are a source of stability in his life, as they would not leave him.

During a particularly bad evening thinks about getting rid of his games and anime, since they seem to be the reason that MC left, but does not because then he thinks he would be left with nothing.

Misses so much school and so many family gatherings, that his brothers are legitimately worried.

Refuses to leave his room or go to class until the exchange program is over and he does not have to see MC everywhere ever again.

Still keeps the picture he took with MC where they are both in cosplay and happy. Often finds himself holding it and crying.

Does not really get over the break up, even after MC has long left the Devildom.

Satan

Satan was surprised that he had met such a lovely person who was able to handle his temper. However, in the last few weeks he definitely noticed MC pulling away, especially after he lets his temper get the better of him.

So when MC asks to have a conversation, Satan knows that it is probably about his anger issues.

What Satan does not expect, however, is that instead of trying to work something out, MC chooses to leave him. Although, if he was being honest, he does not exactly blame MC, as he knows his temper can be difficult.

Still, the break up stings, and Satan would try and avoid MC for a while. Luckily it is easy - Satan likes spending time in his room reading, and MC now has no reason to come by.

Though Satan acts unaffected, on the inside he is hurting and feels angry with himself. He should have been better at containing his temper, he should not have allowed his rage to overcome him.

Strong feelings of self-loathing, since he knows that being angry is part of his nature and there is nothing he can do with himself.

Still, he knows that he cannot hide out in his room for all eternity, so eventually he goes back to spending time in common areas of the house.

Whenever he interacts with MC he is always pointedly polite, but it still really hurts him on the inside to see MC.

Feels that despite his best efforts, his temper is getting worse. Things that used to not provoke much reaction out of him now cause huge rage storms. The more he rages the more he hates himself.

After MC leaves the Devildom, he is equally sad and relieved. He does not think he will ever meet anyone again, but he also does not think that he deserves to be loved because of his temper.

Asmodeus

Asmo has a vast experience of being in different relationships, so he can sense early when something is off, even despite MC telling him that everything is fine.

Still, when the break up conversation happens, Asmo is really hurt - MC is the first person he really opened up to, the first person with whom he felt truly intimate on more than just physical level, and having that taken away is quite hard.

When he hears that the reason MC is breaking up with his is because they fear that he may cheat on them, his heart completely shatters.

Asmo is naturally flirty, as makes sense for the avatar of lust, but he had never cheated on MC and was never planning to do.

Asmo tries to act light hearted about the break up, but on the inside he is really hurting from MC’s accusations.

So once he is a free man once again, he does the only thing that makes sense - goes to the club to try and get with as many people as possible. The pain doesn’t go away, of course, but that does not mean that Asmo would stop trying to figure out just how many one-night stands it takes to heal a broken heart.

Even his brothers are worried for him - though it is common for Asmo to sleep with many different demons, he had never slept with just SO MANY demons in such a short period of time.

The more time Asmo spends in the arms of his temporary lovers, the less time he has to run into MC.

Asmo realizes that after having true emotional intimacy with someone - the relationships build on purely physical intimacy are not fulfilling anymore. But he does not get emotionally intimate with anyone - in part, because he does not feel like anyone can give him the love MC did and in part because he does not feel like he deserves it due to his nature.

When MC leaves, Asmo takes it really hard because there is still a huge empty space in his heart and no amount of temporary lovers was able to fill that.

Beelzebub

Beel does not even suspect that MC is unhappy. To him everything is fine, because MC acts like everything is fine.

So he ends up completely blind-sided by MC’s request to have a serious conversation about their relationship.

Beel’s heart shatters, when MC tells him they are leaving him - and shatters again when MC says that his eating is the problem. Beel had no idea, but as it turns out, MC is tired of their entire dating and daily life revolving around food, so they don’t want to be with him anymore.

Beel is very sad, and he shows it. After MC leaves Beel does what he usually does when he is feeling upset - goes to the kitchen and eats. The more he eats, the more self resentment he starts feeling.

He saw MC as this amazing person in his life, who loved and cared for him, and now he lost them simply because he could not control his appetite. Beel feels pathetic.

Thus starts the vicious cycle where the sadder he gets, the more he eats and the more he hates himself. It does not take long until Beel feels completely depressed.

He tries to avoid MC, but he still wants to see them because a part of him still cares for them. Luckily avoiding MC does not seem that hard, since they never venture into the kitchens anymore.

Beel really wants to get back with MC, but he understands that they will not take him back because his eating is out of control, and that makes him really sad.

When MC leaves Devildom, Beel finds himself falling into despair, and even Belphie cannot quite help him get out of it.

Belphegor

Belphie, just like his twin, also did not realize that MC was unhappy with their relationship because to him everything seemed fine - they spent plenty time together in the attic room, napped together and talked.

However, he feels suspicious when MC asks to have a conversation with him - he can feel that something is off.

When MC says that they want to break up, he is sad, but definitely tries to hide it. He becomes especially sad when he learns that MC wants to break up because they feel like he is not putting enough effort into their relationship.

A part of him is angry - he thought that MC enjoyed things they did together, such as their naps and conversations, and he lets MC know that he is upset. It is not a pretty break up.

After that, he makes it his mission to avoid MC. It is very easy, since the break up made him so sad that the only thing he seems to want to do is stay in his attic room and sleep.

His brothers get worried when he does not show up for meals for a few days, but when they go to check on him, the door is locked.

Belphie is feeling mostly two emotions - sadness and anger. Inside him, resentment towards MC starts to brew. Nonetheless, he knows that he would not act on that resentment because a part of him still cares for her.

Belphie does not really see MC after they broke up, maybe only on a couple of occasions. Because he mostly spends his days sleeping he does poorly at school and gets in trouble with Lucifer because he has to repeat a year.

Belphie once again finds himself feeling hatred towards humans.

When the MC leaves Devildom it’s a relief, but Belphie still continues with his self-destructive habits.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

180 notes · View notes

arlome · 4 years

Note

prompt: baby, Phrack, Phryne's bedroom

Well, my darling nonnie, you’ve come at a very good time... Hope you approve.

And to the rest of you lovelies - unplanned pregnancy-related issues ahead. So read at your own risk. I mean it.

It takes her an entire fortnight to finally acknowledge that something might be... wrong. At first, she ascribes the whole thing to stress - not enough sleep, a difficult case, Aunt P and her countless luncheons - those notoriously tiresome tea parties can do that to a body, after all. She laughs it off and sleeps in later than she plans and acts as if this unnatural delay doesn’t bother her; but when she nearly faints at a crime scene, rising from a squat over the murder victim, she starts dreading the natural conclusion. When she starts bringing up her breakfast in the mornings, she finally gives up and seeks out Mac.

One compassionate look says it all. Phryne starts crying.

“What will you do?” Mac asks gently, handing her a soft, checkered handkerchief. It’s a lovely pattern, the same as Mac’s waistcoat. Phryne wipes her nose, dabs the sodden cloth under her swollen eyes.

“I don’t know,” she answers truthfully, angry at herself for the uncharacteristic waterworks. She’s usually much more held-together.

Mac stares at her in disbelief.

“You’re not actually thinking of keeping it?” she mutters, frowning. They’re at the morgue, there are people outside. This is hardly discreet. “Phryne, you were always so adamantly against the very idea - “

“I know,” Phryne sighs, worrying the handkerchief in her hands, “but this...it’s... it’s Jack’s, Mac; there’s a lot at stake.”

Mac nods and bends to kiss Phryne’s forehead in a quite uncharacteristic move of her own.

“Don’t wait too long,” she urges quietly, pressing Phryne’s shoulder with gentle fingers. She doesn’t say anything explicitly, but Phryne understands all too well.

Time is of the essence.

***

She waits another week to tell him.

Her days are spent in sickness and not much health, her nights are spent in steadfast insomnia. She’s on edge - a raw nerve, a frayed wire - ready to ignite and split and fall at any given moment. The thought of telling him - of seeing his face at her confession - has her retching over the bathroom sink.

When he finally comes to her, she’s in bed with a book she’s not really reading, her fingers shaking with anxious trepidation. He takes one look at her and smiles that thrice-damned half-smile of his, leaning in the doorway, with his hands in his trouser pockets.

“In bed by nine, and no cognac or D.H. Lawrence in sight,” he quips. “Are you ill, Miss Fisher?”

She’s got a whole speech planned - her reasons, her plans for the future, everything, detailed and explained, right there on the tip of her tongue - but what bursts forth is a choked “I’m pregnant”, gasped into the suddenly stifled air of her boudoir. She watches as the smile and colour drain from his face, follows his stagger into the bedroom, after he barely manages to shut the door behind him; her eyes mist over as he stumbles to her side of the bed, as he lowers himself awkwardly to the edge, by her hip.

“How?” he asks, his voice no louder than a rasp. He’s shaken, too; she can tell by the white-knuckled grip he has on the edge of her bed. She doesn’t dare look up at him.

“It happens,” she says, shrugging, the book slipping down her crossed legs, “these devices are not fool-proof, you know, and we have been rather... prolific in our bedtime activities.”

She feels his hand settling over her doona-covered thigh, squeezing softly.

“Phryne...”

The gentle timbre of his deep voice makes her tear up begrudgingly. She turns her head away, swiping angrily at the unwelcome droplets, not wanting him to see her tears. With her eyes averted, she feels, rather than sees, his body shifting forward. His arms encircle her, his chin resting at the top of her head, and she surrenders, and buries her face in his solid chest and trembles.

“How long have you known?” he asks quietly and kisses the crown of her head.

“I’ve missed my courses this month,” she mutters into his waistcoat, “I suspected. Mac confirmed it a week ago.”

He exhales loudly enough for her to hear.

“Christ, Phryne; why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

There’s no accusation in his voice, no judgment; this is so much worse than she expected it to be.

“I can’t keep it,” she cries, her fingers digging into his arms, willing him to understand. “Believe me, Jack, I wish there was another way... this was not a decision I took lightly -”

Jack kisses her cheek, her nose, brushes his lips over hers, tastes the salt on her skin.

“I know,” he mutters against her forehead, “I know.”

This dear man. This dearest man.

“You’re not angry?” She lifts her face to look at him. “You’re not cross that I’ve decided to - ?”

He shakes his head, blinking slowly. His eyes are soft, moist, full of compassion and understanding, and her heart tightens. She loves this man, oh how she loves him. It doesn’t frighten her. Not anymore.

“Phryne, I will support whatever decision you make. You know that.”

“Even if it involves the illegal abortion of your child?” This is not an easy question, but it needs to be asked.

He reaches for her clammy hands and brings them to his lips. His mouth is cool against her skin.

“Even so,” he promises truthfully, but seeing the sceptical look on her face, he sighs, and adds, “Yes, it’s true that once, eons ago, I wished for a traditional kind of family. A wife, children, climbing up the ranks – but, Phryne, it all changed with the war. I’ve everything I ever wanted, with you, and that’s enough.”

She reaches for his face, ghosts her fingers over his cheekbones, kisses him desperately for good measure.

“Jack Robinson,” she whispers brokenly against his lips. “You are the best of men.”

He scoffs and pulls her to him, his arms tight around her waist. She can feel his heavy breath against her neck, knows how overcome with emotions he is. Her hands thread into his hair, her lips press into his temple.

“Promise me you’ll be careful,” he mutters hoarsely into her skin. “Let Mac help. That’s all I ask.”

She buries her head in the crook of his neck, presses herself against his solid body. She wants to feel his heart thudding as wildly as her own, wants to cling to him until nothing else in this world matters.

“I promise,” she kisses his Adam’s apple softly. He shudders in her arms.

***

Dot cries when she confides in her; big, genuine tears for the sake of her soul and that of the unborn child she reluctantly carries.

“And nothing can change your mind, Miss?” she wails, her almost full cup of tea rattling dangerously in her shaking hands. Phryne sighs and shakes her head.

“Afraid not, Dot,” she smiles sadly at the younger woman. “You know my view on the subject.”

Dot falls silent for a few moments, only sniffling loudly every now and then.

“Will... will it be as horrible as Alice’s -?” she asks, at last, unable to finish the sentence.

Phryne reaches for Dot’s hands, squeezing them softly, feeling incredibly grateful that Jack’s name stayed out of the conversation.

“No, absolutely not,” she promises, smiling reassuringly. “Mac says she’ll take care of everything. We trust Mac, don’t we?”

Dot nods, a little heartened by this piece of information, and Phryne sighs inwardly in relief. After all, there’s no need for both of them to worry.

***

She rouses from deep, heavy sleep to the sound of hushed voices and clinking glasses. A rather rancid scent of antiseptic permeates the air, combined with the strong smell of spirits - her best single malt whiskey, if she’s any judge - and a lingering sickly-sweet trace of ether in her nose; it all makes her rather queasy. Her eyes are still closed, but she can tell that the room - her bedroom, she remembers - is dimmed and peaceful; the window is slightly ajar, there’s a fire burning. It’s over.

“Do you think me a hypocrite?” a man’s voice - Jack’s - rasps from somewhere to her left. She frowns a little at the question - why would she ever think that - but before she can further contemplate the nature of the soft demand, she hears liquid being poured into glasses - two, by the sound of it - and drops the matter.

“Why?” another voice - Mac’s - inquires matter-affectedly. “Because of the procedure?”

Phryne can hear the glasses shifting, a soft, clinking sound; there’s another silence as the two other occupants of the sickroom take their respective sips.

“Well, it is illegal, and I am a servant of the law,” Jack breathes a little hoarsely; if for the drink or for the subject, Phryne doesn’t know, “and yet I didn’t hesitate - not for a second, Mac - if it meant that she’s - “

“Jack,” Mac interrupts him, and to Phryne’s growing astonishment, her voice is soft, gentle, “nobody can blame you for wanting the woman you love to be safe and healthy.”

Phryne stops breathing for a few precious seconds, awaiting his response.

Jack doesn’t disappoint.

“If anything were to go wrong, Mac... God, I would have never forgiven myself.”

This dear man. This dearest man.

She stirs deliberately in bed, announcing her presence as best she knows, loudly and extravagantly. They’re by her side in seconds; Mac taking her pulse, Jack tracing the lines of her face with cold fingers. She opens her eyes to see their relieved faces.

“Hello,” she croaks, smiling indulgently. “Are you two having all the fun without me?”

Mac laughs almost hysterically, Jack sags onto the bed and looks away from her. Her fingers snake towards his, gripping tightly. He takes a ragged breath and hangs his head.

“I’ll leave you two alone for a few minutes,” Mac says, wisely reading the room. “I’m pretty certain there’s a slice of pavlova cake with my name on it, awaiting in the kitchen. I’ll be back to check on you a little later.”

The soft click of the door closing sounds loud and clear in the sudden silence of the room, and Phryne reaches out to run her free hand over Jack’s back.

“Are you alright?” she asks him softly, and he nods, keeping his head low and his eyes away from view.

“Jack,” she whispers, “I’m here.”

His fingers in her hand tremble a little, and she tries to rise to embrace him, but he senses her intent and leans over to bury his face in her hair, instead.

“I was worried,” he confesses, his voice on the verge of breaking. “Phryne...”

“I know,” she whispers, her fingers brushing at the soft, short hair on the back of his head. “I know, darling.”

“Are you alright?”

She smiles, kissing his cheek. Dear, kind Jack.

“I will be sore for a while, but it will pass,” she divulges with surprising willingness, and he raises his face to look at her. She brushes the stray curls from his forehead, smooths the deep worry lines with her fingertips. “Jack, I want you to know... that the decision was so very hard to make.”

He blinks slowly, trying to clear his eyes, and turns his face into her palm, kissing the soft skin sweetly.

“I know.”

There’s no judgment in his eyes, no regret; only worry for her well being, and love - a lot of that.

“I do love you, you know,” she says quietly, her eyes growing heavy; she’s exhausted, and sleep beckons.

He kisses her lips so softly it might already be a dream, and rises to lie on her right, next to her. His mouth presses her shoulder softly, his large hand rests on her abdomen. She feels almost ridiculously safe.

They’ll be alright, her and him.

“Sleep, Phryne,” he whispers gently.

And she does.

#prompt ask #phrack #mfmm fanfiction #my fic

40 notes · View notes

astyle-alex · 3 years

Text

[FanFic] Start with Why | the Old Guard

You’d think, eventually, the excitement of posting a new chapter of something would simmer down a bit, especially when the chapter’s already live on other platforms, but nope. I’m still hyped up to share it here!

Start With Why

Fandom: the Old Guard Pairings: Background Nicky x Joe Characters / Focus: OT5 + Copley, reacting to Booker's betrayal Rating: Gen Audiences Warnings: None (well, language, because the team are all quite colorful) Total Word Count: 10,288 Chapter Word Count: 1,757

Summary:

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

-----

|| Read on Patreon | Read on Ao3 ||

Part III :: Nicky

Nicky holds the middle ground.

He provides a more ranged variety of support.

It is the role he’s always had, the one he’s always volunteered for.

He can be cold and objective when he needs to be, no matter what’s at stake.

But this is a test like no other that he’s faced.

He hurts for his little Family, for every member of it.

Booker is his brother and yet he hurt the rest of them— hurt them acutely and intentionally in a way that he had to know would sting like nothing else ever could.

And yet… Book is hurting so much as that and more, so lost in the despair as he was to have been unable to see things with any hint of clarity.

Andy says he truly thought it would help.

Nile says he never thought the others would be grabbed, that he’s worried for Nicolò and Yusuf’s future and the potential pain they’d face when the Almighty that brought them together eventually tore them apart.

Joe is still too hurt and heartbroken to say anything he truly means.

And Nicky doesn’t know where that leaves him. Where that leaves them, both the two of them and the four of them… and even the five of them, to be honest.

Eventually, the argument lapses into silence, weighted and thick with too much grief to sort through the varied points of origin.

Nicky stands.

Joe nearly falls out of his seat as he stands to step in front of him— bodily barring his way toward Booker with a kind of heart-broke desperation that makes Nicky nearly crumble.

And yet…

Nicolò di Genova does not back down.

Such is not a trait within his nature. His gaze is filled with sympathy as it meets Joe’s own despairing and betrayed one, but he does not back down.

Yusuf is Nicolò’s heart and soul, his whole reason for being better than he was— for being a person who could overcome what Booker had not— but Yusuf is not all he is. Yusuf is not the piece of him that defines the limits of what he can be, but the start of his potential. He and Yusuf are still discrete entities, even after eons, they are their own people bound by Fate and love and history, but not merged in any way that makes their love banal or any less miraculous.

They are not two halves of one whole.

They are two hearts that beat in sync, two souls that sing in harmony, two minds that see and feel and know enough to teach each other— to show each other new things and new perspectives even after centuries of being in this world together.

Joe cannot see what Nicky does, and Nicky won’t let his place at Joe’s side determine his ultimate loyalties without his own past-due evaluation.

Nicky stares Joe down, implacable, until his lover deflates enough to sag back into his seat— heaving Nicky’s pseudo-betrayal off with a huff as he keeps his back firmly to the window.

Nicky rests his elbows on the rail beside Booker and waits in silence until Book looks over at him— having heard the door open and braced himself for something louder and more final than a quiet conversation with Nicky.

Nicky doesn’t deliver final verdicts.

He’ll explain them if the initial delivery doesn’t get the message properly across, but he does not report the sentence first of all.

If Nicky has a verdict for you, you’ll find it out when he’s put a bullet in your brain.

Nicky also doesn’t ask. He demands the answers he seeks when he knows who has them.

But here, he doesn’t know any questions that he actually wants to have answered, yet.

He just wants Booker to explain, wants in turn to explain himself to Booker… because they are a Family, and none of them can possibly exist in true isolation.

Book is the one who made the bad decision, but the rest of them are not absolved of all responsibility, as they were all party to creating what bleak circumstances Booker faced, to creating what dismay he believed was enough to push him into making his horrid choice.

Nicky waits for Booker to speak his Truth, waits with his eyes on the restless sea.

“I am so sorry, Nicky,” Booker says, looking at him with imploring eyes.

“I cannot give you absolution, Basti,” Nicky tells him, gaze still on the ocean. “And I cannot yet bring my own self to forgive you, no matter what reasons you bring to bear.”

Booker falls silent, defeated like a kicked dog.

“We failed you too, however, in letting you face your despair as we did,” Nicky tells him after a long moment of solemn contemplation. “We failed you in how we brought you into our Family, failed you every bit as much as we’ve ever failed the civilians that we cannot save. But we also did not pull the trigger on this, as you did, and I am finding it difficult to reconcile such divisive and complementary guilts.”

They always think of Joe as the one to give the pretty speeches, and his Yusuf certainly deserves the epithet, but Nicky appreciates those speeches not because he is incapable of wielding words himself, but because he is more economical with how he states his feelings.

He pulls no punches, leaves no ambiguity.

When he is confused, he says so, and when he’s not he states it clear.

“Yusuf is my heart, my soul, my mind’s only true peace,” Nicky tells his little brother with the cool detachment of age and sympathy. “We have let you bear 200 years of misery and let ourselves forget, nigh even then, how truly young you still are. Nile helped me to remember it, her saying how you had called her so young. A ‘neighbor with a dead pet’, she said. It goes for comfort, too, Basti— it goes for certainty and calm.”

“You’ve never been a father, Nicky, even as old as you are,” Booker pleads, half frantic to have his reasons reconciled. He wants to be clear, to give himself over unto the others’ understanding, to be heard and truly listened to… He is desperate for it, desperate to be understood, in a way Nicky has, unforgivably, realized he hadn’t the patience to fully see before.

“And you’ve never had a love grow warm inside you over eons, to feel the Faith in Truth it brings,” Nicky replied, not ceding any ground.

Booker bites his tongue— cutting off what was sure to be a sour retort, a snap of love turned too bitter to bear. Of trust that feels betrayed as what he feels should be a valid point is just summarily dismissed.

“You loved them very much, your wife and children,” Nicky states, confident that his words will not be taken as any kind of understatement. “You loved them until it consumed you like a fire, as you believe Yusuf and I love. But you are still so young in how you see things if you think the love either of us has could ever die with the ones to whom we give it.”

Booker blinks, equal parts surprised and hurt, Nicky thinks.

“Your family hurt you at their end,” Nicky goes on, “They levied accusations, and you have let yourself descend to meet them. This man beside me is not the one they loved while living, and you do them disservice by believing you could become the monster that they made you. Their love is pure and powerful, tainted only by mortal concerns that I have Faith their immortal souls regret. But if they were first to meet you now, they would not be able to abide it.”

Booker is retreating, sliding away from Nicky, inch by inch, along the rail.

“If Yusuf dies, I will despair,” Nicky confesses. “I will ravage lands and wreck vengeance on all villains I can find, killing countless in his name. But the grief will ebb in the face of what good I can still do in his name, what good I can lay claim to having had his heart inspire. It will hurt, and I cannot bear to think of what horrors I may commit at the apex of it, but I cannot believe I will forget the goodness of my Yusuf, the good-work he had, in all his life, strove to create. I cannot believe I will dishonor my own love for him by failing to carry his work on.”

“ ‘This is what we do’, you say,” Book says with a keening sort of hollow voice. “It’s a mantra, not true belief. You want to believe it, but you have no proof and you want it.”

“You say Copley has proof, say you’ve seen it, yet you do not believe any more than I that what we do day to day affects things,” Nicky counters. “It is a mantra, and it is belief. The belief is more robust on some days than on others, but there is nothing that will break my Faith. I am a thousand years old, Basti, and the world has been awful for every single one of the years I’ve lived. But there are people who have lived longer lives because of my presence in the horrors of their worst moments, and I have found a way to let that be enough.”

Booker doesn’t speak— can’t speak.

Nicky turns his gaze away, looking back to the violent roll of the ocean waves.

“Tell me why, Booker,” he demands, voice soft and smooth and inescapable. “Tell me what it is you want. Tell me what will help you, or will help me see you.”

Booker half-collapses.

“I don’t have excuses left,” he manages eventually. “I don’t have good reasons, or bad ones…. Or anything. I don’t have anything. Just the grief and the regret.”

“You have us,” Nicky promises simply. “I cannot forgive you yet, but I can promise you that my inability is due only to the freshness of this hurt. You will be forgiven and welcomed back into the Family with no further stipulations, once you have paid your penance.”

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you.” Booker knows Nicky cannot disagree.

But he feels his test of faith has been suddenly decided.

“Love does not care what you deserve,” Nicky says pushing off the rail to return to where the others wait inside for his assessment.

- - - - -

|| Read on Patreon | Read on Ao3 ||

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

4 notes · View notes

ask-the-clergy-bc · 4 years

Note

hey, i love what you do, youre amazing! i wanted to know, according to you, what are the papas and copias best quality? what is the best thing about them? thank you!

PapaThank you so much!!

They all have such amazing qualities, so it was really difficult to pick just ONE! So I picked the ones that I feel are the most in tuned to their characters or how they are as Papas/Cardinal.

Also been kinda going back on formatting for these. I want to do more bullet points instead of just paragraphs- so I hope it reads better!

Papa Nihil:

~Nihil has always been a go getter and has had a huge drive for his work. Especially in his youth, Nihil has always went out of his way to accomplish whatever he put his mind to. Sure, he had his fair share of partying and slacking off. But one thing is for certain, he made this Clergy what it is! there is a reason the Grand Papa is still respected and even feared. Nihil worked to make this Ministry everything that it was, along with Sister Imperator.

~ Nihil has always been a strong leader for the clergy. Yes, it’s true Imperator does carry a lot of the weight of the Church- but Nihil does just as much! He has done everything for the Ministry and been steadfast through all of the troubles they have faced. From complications with the Ghost project to the failures of his own children. Nihil provides and has remained a strong and steady leader, even in his older age. It’s another reason why he’s reluctant to hand the baton over to Copia- he’s not sure the Cardinal is ready for the weight of responsibility.

~ Papa Nihil prides himself on having a sense of humor. We’ve all seen the man during his frontman years AND on screen. Granted, he’s not as outrageous as his youngest son or the Cardinal- but Nihil has a fun side. He will insist you have to have a sense of humor to run something so serious or you’ll just wind up going mad! There’s a time and a place for seriousness, but the stage is not one of them! It’s why he’s so open about promoting his old record or playing the sax during tour. All work and no play, right?

Papa I:

~Papa is one of the most powerful Papas to grace the Ministry in both mind and sheer magic. The only reason he hasn’t over thrown Nihil for Grand Papacy is that he doesn’t make a move without Lucifer’s unblessing. If he was so inclined, he could rule the Clergy longer and more proficiently than any one Emeritus before him. But he does not. Papa is just happy to be a humble instrument for the Dark One’s will.

~ His is incredibly loyal and dedicated, almost to a fault. Papa would do anything for the Clergy, if only to see their faith prosper and grow. Not just to Lucifer, who is his life and light- but his flock and even family. Lucifer takes immense pride in protecting and embracing all of His followers- from every outcast to every high member of His court. Papa values each follower to their Legion as Lucifer would. And we all know the man dedicates his life to their teachings AND plans of taking over the world all for Him.

~All of the Emeritus men are passionate in way way or another. But Papa I is passionate to the point of almost fanaticism! If you’ve ever seen him give a performance or sermon you know that he gets very into it. No matter what he’s doing, he puts all of his effort into it. Papa gives sermons like a possessed man with lots of energy and genuine love for what he preaches.

Papa II:

~Papa is iron willed and strong, and is a formidable force of nature when need be. He is not an easy man to knock down physically, spiritually, or even emotionally. Nothing can break him, and he will fight to keep it that way. Papa refuses to be a push over or beat down by the world! His willpower alone to get anything done or overcome any obstacle is borderline legendary.

~ One of the most articulate and well spoken of the bunch. Papa has always prided himself on how well he communicates with others. A lot of people are afraid to talk to him due to both his grumpy look and many rumors of how ruthless he is. Rightly so, but he is still always a gentleman first! Papa doesn’t put people down without reason. When you talk to him, it’s like talking to royalty. Papa speaks like a proper noble man- thoughtful, observant, and always polite. This also translates to when he speaks about the Clergy, to his followers, or offering prayer.

~ One of the most confident and self reliant individuals you will meet! Papa always wants to be able to count on one person no matter what; himself. As a leader, you have to be. You need to trust yourself and know you can get ANYTHING done. Papa has no time for self pity or weakness. He’ll carry his head high and be self assured he is the best at what he does.

Papa III:

~Papa is very personable and friendly with anyone he meets, no matter who they are. He could be meeting people who outwardly hates his guts and he would still be well mannered, crack jokes, and want to take a picture with them. It’s why he’s so popular, since he is easy to approach and not as intimidating as past Papas! Papa is too social of a being to stick to strict etiquette and stuffiness!

~Despite a lot of selfish and arrogant traits he has, Papa has always been vocal about respecting everyone. You’ve seen him at concerts- warning people to be mindful of children, yelling at someone harassing a person who was disabled to get out, and out right saying do not grope the Sisters of Sin. It’s one of the teachings of Lucifer he needs to preach more often. Papa loves to flaunt his own status, but he knows to respect everyone and treat them with acceptance and basic human decency. (Granted, this might not always apply with ghouls but... he tries.)

~He’s actually incredibly intelligent, even though he doesn’t come across as it sometimes (we’ve all seen the kazoo and goofy stage antics). Papa is just very picky of when and where he wants to display his wit and natural clever nature. Intellectual pursuits are not the only way you can express how smart you are! He is actually very good at his job when he sits down, and if you were to have a conversation with him you’d be surprised how grounded and thoughtful he could be!

Cardinal Copia:

~We all know for all his awkwardness- but Copia is genius levels of smart! His intelligence is not only with his scholarly pursuits and knowledge of faith, but he is a master strategist! There is a very good reason he has come so far! Copia knows how to navigate any challenge and work towards his goals. Honestly, probably an absolute BEAST at chest!

~Some might have accused Copia of kissing Imperator’s ass to get to where he is, but it’s actually not true. Copia is a hard worker! There is a reason he’s second most employee of the month! Ever since he was a meager Brother of Sin, Copia worked his ass off in everything he did. From studying, to chores, to teaching himself entire languages. The man built himself up from the bottom and is now reaping the rewards!

~The most notable quality he definitely has is that he is super ambitious! Copia has huge plans, it’s why he works so hard. He’s hungry for the position as Papa and to run the clergy! Copia has big plans for when he is in office, and will do whatever it takes to get there. Copia wants to do many things to boost the Church and their message. So many papas failed for not push their agenda, but not Copia! Copia will execute everything perfectly.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #Ghost headcanon #papa nihil #papa emeritus i #Papa Emeritus II #papa emeritus iii #cardinal copia #character analysis

60 notes · View notes

365daysofsasuhina · 4 years

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Forty-Two: Taking Chances ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, gun ] [ Verse: Of Monsters and Men ] [ AO3 Link ]

She was never really the type to take chances, but then, well...Uchiha Sasuke came into her life, and nothing has been the same.

Hinata had been trying all her life to just be a normal girl. She went to school, never skipped, got good grades. Maybe not enough to be top of the class, but close. Bookish, introverted, and shy, she coasted through most of her educational years alone. Her grades did well, but...her social life, not so much. It wasn’t until college where she really began to branch out a bit. She met a few other girls her age taking what was meant to be her core classes that they were taking as electives: those relating to horticulture. Sakura took it slightly as a vanity project, given her name. And Ino’s family owned a flower shop in her hometown. The former wanted to become a doctor, and the latter wanted to study cosmetology. While Hinata didn’t consider either of them close friends...they were the closest she’d gotten to the notion in quite some time.

The changes college brought about meant changes in her, too. Ever so slightly, she felt herself growing bolder. She’d skip study hours to go with them to movies. Listen in to gossip as the pair would mull over boys in their classes or spotted on campus. None of it was really her typical style, but...she told herself she liked it. Told herself it was normal to befriend people her age, especially girls, and actually do things besides study and lurk online.

And then life had to go and make her wish she’d never stepped outside her comfort zone.

It was stupid. She knew it was stupid. But she also told herself it wasn’t that big of a deal. The odds of something going wrong were surely not that high. Her university city is big, sure...but the crime rate isn’t too high. Surely a quick jaunt on her own wasn’t going to land her in any trouble, right?

...wrong.

Walking quickly and eyes flickering, she’d found herself suddenly grabbed by an arm and dragged into an alleyway. Heartbeats soared with panic, mind screaming, “I told you so!” as a man leered down at her, gripping her neck and pinning her up against the building behind her.

But it wasn’t just any man. This man wasn’t human...he just looked the part, sans the bright red eyes and sharp teeth in his grin.

Hinata knew what he was. She’d seen beings like him since she was small. A talent - or in her mind, a curse - she’d had for as long as she could remember...one her father had insisted she stamp out, ignore, somehow cure herself of.

But for all her playing ignorant, for all her pretending not to see...Hinata could never fully escape her sight.

And even then...it wouldn’t have saved her.

No...her saving grace came in the form of another man. Another vampire. This one wielding a gun and demanding the attacker let her go. Claimed to be an Enforcer...whatever that meant.

The word had stiffened her assailant, bolting only to be struck down. Hinata was alive...and in shock. Though, admittedly, not as much as a typical human would be.

The officer attempted to drug her, to help her forget...but there would be no forgetting. She’d been privy for their world long before then.

The world of monsters...of Nightwalkers.

Awakening something long buried within herself, she’d managed to break free with what felt like a kind of...magic.

And then she fled.

She had fully expected that to be the last incident. No more taking chances - she’d just...hole herself up in her dorm when not in classes, and get through the rest of her schooling without anything else going wrong.

But Ino and Sakura were relentless, and a few weeks later insisted she join them for another movie. No matter her insistence otherwise, they wouldn’t let up...and finally she caved. The movie itself was fine, the gaggle of them heading back to the station to take the train back across the city. But little Hinata, short of stature in the crowds, was lost and left behind.

And that’s when he found her again.

Part of her had panicked, wondering if he was here to arrest her, or try to take her away. But all he’d offered was a ride back, given she’d missed her train.

Wary...she’d agreed, part of her admittedly curious about him, and his world. He’d introduced himself as Uchiha Sasuke: a vampire, and a kind of officer tasked with protecting their world from detection.

He also told her she wasn’t human. Not...completely. Hinata, as it turned out, was an odd in-between. The term varied by culture, but in Japan they were often called mikos...or in less friendly terms, witches.

It had been...only partially shocking. Hinata had always known she was different, but wasn’t aware of how rare, or that she wasn’t just crazy, but...simply something different than anyone else she’d ever known.

To her detriment, however...the rather handsome vampire was spotted taking her home, spurring rumors and begetting interrogations from her friends. Barely holding them off with his tale of being a cop (which...was true, just not the way they thought), she’d found herself at a crossroads. No longer could she keep trying to be blind to the other world, but...doing so would make existing in the human half difficult.

Sasuke kept contacting her. Kept trying to learn more about her. About her lineage. The pair grew closer. She even dared to call him a friend. And that friendship was tested when Sasuke found himself wounded nearby her campus, stopping in and asking for her help...only to end up drinking her proffered blood to help overcome the silver-inflicted injury.

...but that’s when the trouble truly started.

There was something...else between them now. The act had felt...strangely intimate. Hinata wasn’t sure what to call it. But it wasn’t long after that she found herself dragged into a political disaster.

Sasuke’s boss - the leader of his coven, and one of the most powerful Nightwalkers in the world, Uchiha Madara - had finally taken interest in Sasuke’s little project of studying witches. He had her kidnapped, dragged to one of his many hideaways...and wanted to study her for himself.

It was then Sasuke showed his true colors at last. Nearly going feral with anger, he’d been stopped only by his brother in an attempt to attack the Japanese vampiric Senator of the Nightwalker Senate. Madara, explaining more of their history, also put the pieces together and declared that Sasuke had fallen quite deeply in love with the little witch, if his reaction to her being stolen away told them anything.

...Hinata wasn’t sure what to think.

But that wasn’t all Madara wanted. Backing her into a corner, he forced (under a guise of choice) Hinata to agree to work for him: to ally her budding powers to him and his own. She was given a week to think it over, during which she consulted Sasuke...but there wasn’t much to discuss.

To refuse was to be killed.

...she’s taken a few days to - rather than mull the ‘offer’ over - simply...come to terms with it. Part of her still isn’t sure about...well, anything. But though meeting Sasuke has led to this entire chain of events...she can’t bring herself to regret it. Any of it.

She knew that, eventually, there’d be no more running. Either she’d accept her oddity, or she’d succumb to it. And if nothing else...well, at least she’s finally made a true friend. Conquered her fear. And become a person she never really thought she could be.

“...ready?”

Staring up at the doors before them, Hinata turns to Sasuke. As he’s been since Madara’s revelation, he holds a carefully blank expression. She has yet to address the accusation of his being in love with her. Partly because there’s just...too much else to think about. But mostly because she really isn’t sure how she feels, given the chaos that has ensued since learning the truth. There’s been no time to sit and think about it. Consider their history, their bond, their experiences...and the feelings they all bring.

But at the very least...she knows he’s the most genuine friend she has. No one else has ever cared about her like he does...even if the birth of their bond was an odd one.

So, with a small glance to his hand, she gently reaches and takes it. Unlike all of those silly vampire stories, it isn’t cold or hard...but warm. Calloused. Maybe just a little sweaty.

It feels so...human. Even if she knows he isn’t.

But mostly it feels...familiar. Comforting. Reassuring.

It makes her feel that she can do this...so long as she doesn’t have to do it alone.

A hint of a smile curls her lips before looking up to his face. “...yeah. I think I am. Are you…?”

“...if you can do this, so can I.”

That earns a brief laugh. “And here I was t-thinking the exact opposite.”

“Some people tell me that what I do makes me brave, but...in a lot of ways, it’s what those like me have always done. But you...you’re being far braver than I’ve ever been, Hinata. You’re taking one hell of a chance with this. For someone like you to do what you’re doing...that takes far more guts. I hope you realize that.”

Her smile just softens. “...I guess so. It just feels like...w-what I’m supposed to do. And...thank you for being with me.”

“I can’t abandon you now - you wouldn’t be in this mess if not for me.”

“...no, I wouldn’t be.” Slowly, her expression warms. “...but I think...I-I think that, as much as it’s cost...it’s been worth it...ne?” Her grip on his hand tightens.

Something flashes through his eyes for the briefest of moments. “...if you say so, then...guess it’s true.”

“...come on. Let’s...get this over with.”

.oOo.

(This is a sequel to days 35, 44, 52, 80, 82, 105, 115, 133, 159, 162, 188, 193, 289, 298, 307, 310, and 317!) I am...so behind OTL And this is really late. Like...almost 20 days late. I'm just so stinkin' burnt out and busy and blegh. So lemme just apologize for like the fiftieth time about how badly this is crumbling here toward the end. Life is just really making it difficult these last few weeks. I'm sorry. BUT, either way, I'll finish! Just...very late, ahaha~ Anyway, on to the story. A bit more of the Nightwalkers crossover. Sort of a recap kinda thing given just how LONG this one's gone on, and partly as a refresher for myself. I LOVE this accidental mini series, and have every intention of making it into a proper fic down the road, and even have the ending plotted, which is exciting! So I don't want to go TOO much further with it during the challenge. But this prompt just...insisted on being in this verse, lol I'd...say more but I'm very tired. It's 3am and I'm a doof for being so late, but...guh. Writing is a real struggle nowadays, so hopefully y'all don't mind being patient with me ;w; Either way, that's all for now...thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #gun //#of monsters and men [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

18 notes · View notes

komahinasecretexchange · 5 years

Text

Title: Don’t Listen to my “I Love You’s”

Author: @sonneka

For: @thatsrightdollface

Rating/Warnings: All the things that happen during SDR2’s Chapter 5! (Lots of angst, of course)

Prompt: What was Nagito thinking in regards to Hajime as he sets up his plan in DR2 chapter 5?

Author’s notes: I love Nagito’s POV so much!! I wanted it to be as close to canon as possible but ended up writing a few things out of it, ups. Still, this fic is full of Nagito’s thoughts and things that kind of happened in canon. Chapter 5 hits me right in the feels, sorry. I hope you like it! ♥

“Please, don’t forget. From the bottom of my heart, I am truly in love with the hope that sleeps inside you.”

Those were his words back then. He thought of them as if they were a distant memory, even if they’d been said barely a couple of days by now.

He didn’t know if Hinata even cared at that time, less whether he would’ve forgotten about it or not. Even though Komaeda asked him not to forget his words, he was the one that couldn’t erase them from his memory. It made his chest hurt, heart pounding every time he remembered.

Hinata probably thought he was lying back then, since Komaeda wanted him not to believe anything he said in the first place. Therefore, there was no way he would even stop to think the true meaning of his words; and, actually, even Komaeda wasn’t sure of what everything he said signified.

It was far too late for all of that, though. After everything he came to know… His admiration for his classmates, plus the big amount of appreciation he felt for Hinata, was utterly gone.

How could he appreciate, admire and even love or care for people who were despair themselves?

No room for hope, and that meant no room for him to care.

The night after the last trial, the fourth one, he stayed by his own inside his cottage. Laying on the bed, he had all his fingers tearing out his hair as if that would be enough to calm him down.

His bottom lip had been bitten so much that, at some point, it started bleeding. But he didn’t care, he was way too busy keeping his thoughts together for that.

Komaeda wanted to believe it was all his luck’s fault. As if it could change the past to make it all despair colored, which wouldn’t be surprising since it was just that unpredictably weird and had no explanation whatsoever.

But whether it was all the fortune’s doing or not, the only way he could think about all those successes was taking them as the undeniable truth.

A little bit of focused now, he breathed in and let his thoughts form a puzzle in his mind, hoping it would all get down together somehow.

Hoping…

Hope… That was the first piece to engage. But although it seemed easy, Komaeda still couldn’t get it.

How could the Ultimate students be able to cause so much despair when they were supposed to be hope themselves in the first place?

And, the thing that was hurting his head the most:

How could someone as talentless a Hinata be able to become hope itself? The Ultimate Hope all by himself, full of artificial talent that seemed to be enough to give him a name like that one.

Komaeda started thinking how would he have felt around someone like him. Would he have been amazed by what his “hope” meant? His memories were all lost now, but he couldn’t help thinking that, at some point, he would have believed he was fully hope and wouldn’t think otherwise.

He closed his eyes, frowning. Now it wasn’t the time to be thinking about things like that, it even seemed as if he were giving up on the puzzle he once started.

Why was it always like that when it came to Hinata?

It hurt too when it was about thinking how all his classmates, including himself, turned into despair. But with Hinata it was way more painful…

It was stupid of him to get attached like that, how wasn’t he able to control his own feelings? He knew how bad things would turn out if he didn’t, but seemed not to care at all.

At some point, he was hopeful. Komaeda felt closer to Hinata than to anyone else in a long time in his life, he even began to think that maybe things would really work out in the end if he stayed by his side.

But perhaps he spoke too soon, he forgot all the despair that followed his beloved hope. And even after all of those facts hitting him, he was denying them inside his mind… within the bottom of his heart.

“I know you don’t matter at all, so why do I care about you? You admire hope, I love hope… In some ways we are similar, but maybe that difference is what’s making me so emotional.”

At that time, just before the last trial started, he spoke his heart out to Hinata. As if that would make any difference, as if he would mind. But that wasn’t his idea at all. It only served to give him an explanation, the perfect excuse he needed to understand his own feelings.

What was he feeling? Obviously, it wasn’t hope. It hurt way too much to be hope.

Was it despair then? Maybe, no one would know.

The only thing he knew was that having Hinata on his mind was killing him slowly, not having anything at hand to fight that. So poisonous…

Poison…

Monokuma’s Special Poison were the words written on that little bottle Komaeda had on his hands.

The first thought crossing his mind wondering what would be more painful, the poison itself or not being able to express his feelings properly?

He smirked, a laugh almost escaping his lips. He knew there was going to be a great use for that poison, just not yet.

Meanwhile he’d had to fight against his feelings for a while. It wouldn’t be complicated, or so he thought.

In the end, he only had to smile to despair in the name of hope.

+++++++

Weak…

How ironic.

Komaeda had accused his “classmates” of being weak, them being all scared and shady by the fact there was a traitor among them. It was bound to happen that they wouldn’t be able to face the problem properly, they were as weak as Komaeda said they were.

However, it wasn’t as if he was able to face his own problems either. Indeed, he was as weak as them all. Not trusting anyone, not even his own words or thoughts, was becoming a stressing routine he didn’t ask to have.

There was no way he would be able to talk about his problems with anyone, somehow he’d have to get used to that matter. It was painful, despair inducing.

“That weakness is hopeless.”

Those words that he’d spat with anger at his classmates were only the reflection of his own thoughts in ruins.

How was he able to accuse them of running away from their problems when he himself was, in fact, doing the exact same thing?

Every time he got asked about what he was plotting, what had he been doing, there was no way he would get to answer directly. After all, it was way easier to just avoid the topic by being disrespectful towards everyone else surrounding him. There was no way anyone had to be able to know how he felt, how weak he truly was in the end.

No one, not a single soul, not even he himself. He had to lie to his thoughts, to his feelings, as if that were a possible escape from his problems.

At least, he was able to escape and get his mind together away from everyone else.

Komaeda knew perfectly well no one wanted to find him, no one wanted to be near him. Of course, why would they? He was being an asshole to all of them, why would they even care about what he was doing?

Those questions had been answered, keeping him calm and collected for once. Again, he had to start the puzzle in his head. Piece by piece, thought by thought.

That island, the fifth one, had to have lots of interesting things to work with, to plot with. The military base hadn’t disappointed at all, it was full of stuff that would make his plan easier. All the pieces seemed to be meant to be found and put on place, his work wouldn’t be difficult at all.

But, on the other hand, his plan was not the only thing in mind. His weaknesses: his painful feelings, the hopelessness surrounding him since the moment all those damned files were read by him, it was getting harder to ignore. Although he recognized its discomfort and tried to numb it all, it was still there. No matter how much he tried to see hope, despair was still overcoming him.

Komaeda tried to go back to what was important: the plan to weed out the traitor. The military base was so full of useful things that he didn’t know where to start. The puzzle in his head getting together all over again, one more time.

But he wouldn’t be able to get it done though. A voice calling him from behind not only froze him to the bones, also left his mind blank and with his attempt of puzzle completely messed up.

“Komaeda… ¿Can I talk to you?”

It was Hinata’s voice. No other voice would’ve made him feel that way. Control over himself completely gone, heart pounding faster and faster. He was probably going to start shaking, which would clearly indicate the anxiousness he was feeling, and if the other boy was cautious enough he could ruin all his plans. Unfortunately, thinking that way only made his heart throb harder. It hurt, air barely reaching his lungs.

“I thought that maybe we could spend some time together… W-What do you think about that?” just hearing Hinata’s voice trembling was enough to make Komaeda recover the little confidence he had on himself. Smirking, he finally turned around to face the other.

“Oh, Hinata-kun,” he replied as friendly as possible, still feeling his jaw trembling a little bit, “I’m really sorry. Though I appreciate that you want to spend time with me, I have a lot of things to do right now.”

Hinata frowned, and at that moment Komaeda’s smile started to fade away. “What’s wrong with you? Why don’t you just tell me if…?”

“I’m completely fine!” He placed a hand on Hinata’s shoulder, successfully cutting his words out. “So don’t worry about me, have fun with the others!”

“I’m being serious, Komaeda.”

No matter how much he tried, it seemed Hinata wouldn’t let him go that easily. But, even so, instead of feeling scared of being found out, he simply was upset. It was a boring conversation, and it had no sense at all. He moved his hand from the other’s shoulder as soon as he knew he started shaking again. This time not from fear, but from anger.

“You’ve been acting all weird and it would be awesome if you shared what you found out with everyone else. Because you’re not the only one trapped on this island, you know? You’re just causing so many more problems for everyone. Nobody, not even you, needs that!”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” he rose his voice, just to stay at the level of Hinata’s. He didn’t have time to argue with him. “I have some business to take care of, so go away!”

In the end, Komaeda got what he wanted. Hinata was out of words, or at least didn’t even try to continue arguing like that, so he simply went away.

But somehow, he wasn’t glad that happened. Again, it started hurting. Chest pounding and stomach feeling painfully empty. Although he did what was right, it felt wrong.

What was wrong about shutting Hinata out?

What was wrong about not telling him the whole truth?

What was wrong about him being already gone?

The answers to those three questions were all the same: “there was nothing wrong”. Even so, not even Komaeda believed in that answer.

He was lying to himself all the time, when would that pain be over? That game of playing pretend wasn’t funny anymore, he was exposing himself way too much and was barely handling it. At that point, he was afraid of looking at Hinata again in the eyes and not being able to lie to him again.

No matter how much he knew about the past they all had forgotten, all the moments and memories constructed during their time on the island were the only ones vivid and actually real.

Maybe those moments were the ones not letting him think properly and making his heart ache every time he thought about Hinata.

He couldn’t escape the past but less he could escape from the present. What could he actually escape from? Could he even escape?

Sighing, one more time, he went back to all the business he actually had to take care of, hoping he would come up with something quickly enough to let himself forget. Maybe that way he would actually escape from all his weaknesses.

Weak…

How ironic.

+++++++

It had been a really long day. And even though night came fast, everything didn’t seem to be over yet. That same night Komaeda ran into Nanami, who invited him to the lobby. At first he didn’t mind, he was pretty sure it wasn’t only her doing so he prepared himself to go and find everyone else at the meeting point.

As soon as he left the cottage he couldn’t help but wonder what could his classmates be plotting about, maybe they would tie him up again just like they’d already done once. Yes, he was ninety percent sure that was going to happen.

He started walking, but not too far from his cottage he came to a stop. Turning his head to his side, curiosity was calling him, Komaeda stared at Hinata’s cottage. Was he there? If he was, then there was no plan at all? Or… maybe nobody counted on him for the plan in the end?

He chuckled, maybe he was being way too mean. In the end, it seemed everybody else doubted Hinata as the possible traitor, and they had all the right to do so. In the end, he was just a nobody, right?

Komaeda tried to convince himself about that, since knowing “the whole truth” about Hinata left him with that bitter taste of distrust and annoyance.

In an attempt to keep all those thoughts out of his head for once and for all, Komaeda headed towards the other’s cottage door. Stood there a few seconds, hesitantly. On one hand, he wanted him to stay there. But, on the other hand, he knew perfectly well that Hinata not being involved in that “lobby meeting” didn’t mean anything at all. Then, what was he hesitating about?

Releasing a long breath he didn’t know he was holding for so long, Komaeda knocked the door. There was no way back after it actually opened.

Hinata stood still right in front of him, frozen for at least a second, which made Komaeda recover his confidence. Cynically smiling, he took a step in while greeting the other.

“Komaeda!? You… What are you doing here?” it was the question he was obviously waiting for. But… what was he going to explain his reasons?

“You sure ask weird questions.”

And he knew that was also a weird and nonsensical way to respond. In fact, he almost bit his bottom lip as if that would make him stop talking. There was no way he had to start saying things that didn’t go anywhere, he had to focus on his intentions.

Obviously, his unique intentions.

“I mean, Nanami-san invited me to the lobby so I guess everyone has some business with me, right?” the scary face Hinata made at that moment made Komaeda relax for a moment. “So, I guess I’m right… Is everyone at the lobby by now, aren’t they?”

“You even know that…” Komaeda should’ve felt bad that he had the whole reason all along. But, instead, he just was kind of disappointed. His chest started hurting again but, at that point, he was simply ignoring it.

“And, just as I thought, you were left out!” he started smiling again. “It’s understandable, since you’re are no ultimate at all it was pretty obvious they wouldn’t want you in their plans.”

Hinata raised an eyebrow and looked away. Yes, as he expected, he was completely annoyed. It was better having that Hinata than the one that wanted to see right through him. No, Komaeda wouldn’t let that happen to him ever again.

“So… why don’t we go to the lobby? I also have some business with you guys.”

“…You do?”

Avoiding Hinata’s question, he kept on talking. “I don’t know what you are planning, but I’m looking forward to it! So just let’s go already.”

He turned around to the door, hoping Hinata would be following him no matter what. Instead, he called him from behind. The pounding in his heart that he was attempting to ignore all along, became erratic and obvious. One couldn’t simply ignore that, it was paralyzing his whole body at once.

“Huh?” he slowly went back to look behind him, Hinata was staring at him with a deadpan face that only told him there was no way he would follow him as if they were close to or something. After all, they’d stopped being close a long time ago anyways…

“Are you really sure you have something to tell us?” Hinata emphasized the word “us”, or maybe Komaeda put that emphasis by himself. For a moment he thought not answering his question was the best idea, but since it seemed to only make him even more suspicious so he simply replied.

“I truly do, why would I lie about something like that?” His voice sounding as sincere as possible, with a unique peaceful tone in it. If he believed his own words, then he could make others believe them the same way. Even so, his jaw was shaking a little bit.

“I don’t know… Since you’ve already said so many lies, why wouldn’t this be one of them?”

Frowning, Komaeda fully turned to face Hinata. “What would be the point of it? I’m basically falling for your trap, the one I barely know about, and you think I’m lying about me having some things to tell you all?”

“Then why aren’t you already in the lobby talking to everyone else? Why are you even here? What then? You came to keep on telling me how talentless I am? Was that part of the things you wanted to tell me?” Hinata smirked and a chuckle escaped his lips.

Komaeda froze, speechless. Who lasts laughs, laughs better it seemed.

He had no answer for the other’s questions, less for his own. Even though he already said why he went to Hinata’s cottage for, it didn’t feel like a good explanation. It was because it wasn’t an explanation whatsoever, it was just an excuse.

An excuse for what? What was he going to win by visiting Hinata? He truly thought it was part of the plan of gathering everyone together at the lobby but… Why not knocking everyone else’s doors then? Why only his?

“You make me laugh, Komaeda.” Despite his words, Hinata was as serious as he ever was. “I want to talk to you alone and you shut me out, then you say you have business with everyone else but are speaking to me only. What do you want to say? What are you hiding from me?”

“From you?”

It hit like an arrow shot right into his chest. Why was Hinata doubting and even thinking of analyzing his thoughts? He hadn’t done that before, when he had the opportunity to make it worth it, doing it now was completely useless.

Why was Hinata making him doubt about his intentions now? Did he now have the talent of “looking right through someone” or what? It was annoying.

“I’m not hiding anything, and I don’t have anything to tell you, specifically.”

“Then, Komaeda, tell me… Why are you here for?”

Another arrow hitting his chest. Was it that hard to believe him? Had it always been like this?

Hinata was acting as if he knew better than him, which he didn’t. Or maybe, just maybe, he was actually right. Looking right through Komaeda had to be so easy, someone like him being seen right through. He couldn’t let that happen, it was way too late for that to happen.

He got ignored more than three times everything regarding his feelings, and this time wouldn’t be an exception.

“Well, are you going to let me talking alone or what?” Hinata immediately asked, still acting all too confident in a way Komaeda didn’t feel comfortable with. However, it didn’t make him fall for anything.

“Didn’t you hear what I’ve already said?” Komaeda snapped, all the nervousness he was feeling blowing away. “I have some business with all of you, and that includes you even though you’re a sad nobody with no talent at all and wasn’t even invited to be part of the others’ plan.”

In spite of his words, he knew deep inside there were a lot of reasons to be in Hinata’s cottage. In some way, he expected that conversation to happen. In other way, he knew how bad it would feel for him. But despite all the expectations he could’ve put up, he wouldn’t have thought how difficult it would be to turn the conversation around to his own favor.

In the end, it seemed he was getting what he wanted, Hinata was going to shut up forever after everything he said. Even so, it didn’t quit the fact that Komaeda himself didn’t believe his own words at all. It was going to hit him hard later, he knew. But, what else could he do? Saying out loud every thought he had in mind was a really bad idea, and he was always pretty careful not to let that happen.

“So let’s hurry to the lobby. They’re all waiting for me to be there, right? And I’m sure you’re expecting that to happen too.”

One more time, Komaeda went back to face the cottage’s door. This time, he wouldn’t turn around even if Hinata only stayed there and didn’t follow him. That silly thought hit him with a nostalgia he couldn’t help to feel…

At it, he smiled and a small laugh almost escaped his lips.

“When we first arrived to this island, we were friends who explored this place together! So let’s go already!”

Even though he’d been promising himself not to say his thoughts out loud, they went out of hand again. His bottled up feelings always found a way to set sail, not that he could help them. It hurt to have them all inside, but he felt it was more painful when it came to the fact that Hinata simply didn’t even understand them.

It was better that way, but it hurt anyways.

And they finally went to the lobby, where everything exploded. Not only Komaeda showed he wasn’t lying about anything, or almost anything he told Hinata, but also showed how little of time was left for all that despair to end.

Komaeda was feeling it near: the end, caressing him and welcoming him with a promise of the greatest hope to come.

Maybe it was way too late for him to feel hopeful, but it was never too late to end with despair.

When the whole lobby was in flames, Komaeda not only showed how much on control was on the whole situation. He could also sense and see the fear in all his classmates’ eyes, feeling the despair overcoming them such like it was happening to him.

Even so, he barely looked at Hinata. Not that he couldn’t, but he already showed himself the weakest to make him win again.

Not this time, not any time.

It was the last time he’d have a word alone with Hinata. Later, he would probably regret it. Right at the moment, it was the best he could do.

Yeah…

The best…

The best for who?

+++++++

Was it really the end? Komaeda had his plan being pure perfection and, even so, he felt empty. Overcoming despair for it to become hope wasn’t as easy as it seemed, although he could have his luck by his side.

He learned to know that, in almost every case, things wouldn’t go as he expected. This time, he was almost praying for it to be just the way he wanted.

Everything was ready: loud music, those stupid Monokuma panels strategically put so they would fall one by one like a domino once someone opened the door, a good lighter, even a damn Monokuma plush toy…

The rope, the knife, the spear…

He himself seeming tied up, cuts all over him, tape on his mouth stifling his screams and… fears.

What was he scared about? Things couldn’t go wrong, he always trusted his luck no matter what.

Even so, he couldn’t help it. The pain in his chest grew wilder and there was no way he could control it anymore. Despite thinking and even knowing the only way to reach hope was killing any trace of despair, and that being all of his classmates including himself with the exception of the traitor, something about that way of thinking didn’t feel good inside him.

Would it be true hope?

More importantly…

Would it be his true hope?

…

What was he even hoping for?

Laying there, all alone with the spear hanging above him, so threatening, left him with too much space for thinking. Komaeda wanted everything to end fast, to be successful but as fast as possible. Because he was barely standing his thoughts anymore, they were even more deadly than poison…

And yeah… Poison…

The most important part of the plan…

He wasn’t scared of it, he didn’t seem to care until the storage room’s door opened and his plan started to play. Maybe it was the smoke what clouded his mind and made his thoughts so annoying in the end.

The fear he swore not to feel, now was overcoming him. Was this really going to be hopeful? Why did it feel so hopeless then?

Looking up to the wall, there was a window he didn’t notice until then…

With all the madness of the moment, he even thought that maybe that window was a good way to escape… Or a way for him to be saved.

Could he be saved?

Did he want to be saved?

What if he actually did?

Inside his mind, not only everyone else but the traitor was the enemy, he himself was also his own enemy. Maybe things could’ve gone differently…

Maybe there was a way of overcoming despair, by not being alone…

Maybe he could actually have trusted…

He knew there was no way to change the past, and now he couldn’t change the present either. Why were past actions so overwhelming when the present seemed so hopeful and nice?

All those days in the island, the time spent with everyone… with Hinata…

Had it all been despair?

No, he couldn’t deny he felt hope shining inside him during those moments, and even so much happiness…

Why did it have to end like that? Why did he have to be the only one to be bothered about the past?

He should’ve have trusted…

At least, he should’ve trusted Hinata.

He seemed to do so, but coding his words only worsened the problem. Hinata tried to understand him in the end… And he didn’t.

No… He simply couldn’t.

He wanted to understand him but Komaeda himself didn’t want to let him in. All the things he wanted to say, every single feeling in his heart, they were kept for himself and no one else was able to see them.

At that thought… He started to regret a lot of things.

The moment his vision started fading, he knew the real poison was already coursing through his veins. Or maybe, just maybe, it was simply the pounding in his heart that now was out of control.

He couldn’t help thinking that all his plan only did was causing more despair. Left him with taste of hesitation, fear and disappointment…

The feelings he didn’t get to say now were ending him at last.

It all led to the conclusion that there was no hope left.

He wanted to believe there was an opportunity left. Even if it seemed there wasn’t…

Finally, his thoughts started to shut up, to fade.

It wasn’t a despair inducing end, less a hopeful one.

It was just an end…

…

Was it, though?

+++++++

“Hey…”

That voice… He knew it pretty well.

It was Hinata’s, right?

He felt his heart throbbing, a pain that was long forgotten until now. But instead of making him feel uneasy, it only made him feel like everything was alright.

Feeling… wasn’t he supposed to be dead already?

Was he actually dead?

“Can you hear me?”

When he opened his languid eyes and saw Hinata’s figure right above him, it was at that moment he realized that his luck always was by his side even if it didn’t seem like that.

He had the other opportunity he was hoping for…

Hoping…

Hope…

Was that his hope? An opportunity to start it all over again? An opportunity to finally say all his thoughts out loud with no shame anymore?

It wasn’t an end at all.

In fact, everything was just beginning.

#komahina #komahina secret exchange #fanfiction

46 notes · View notes

trishmilburn · 4 years

Text

An Open Letter to Starship Entertainment

Hello from America. Why am I starting this letter by stating where I live? Because it’s an important part of the thoughts to follow, as you’ll see shortly.

Since I learned of Wonho’s departure from Monsta X on Oct. 31, I’ll admit to a range of emotions – disbelief, anger, grief and finally a fierce determination to see not only this decision reversed but also a real and substantial change to how K-pop idols are treated by both a sometimes cruel public with unrealistic expectations or a desire to cause chaos and the companies to which the idols have devoted their youth, time and immense efforts.

Though I’m a writer, I’ve taken this amount of time to write this letter because I needed the time to process the situation and not lash out in pure anger. I needed to try to come at this from a perspective that was something other than solely a fan who very much believes Wonho deserves to be reinstated to Monsta X at the earliest opportunity, but it’s not possible to totally separate that desire from trying to look at the situation from a business perspective. That’s because no matter how long I think about the situation, I can’t escape the fact that I believe reinstating Wonho would be the best business decision Starship Entertainment could make. And I’m not just saying that because I believe it’s the right thing to do (though I do believe that). Starship Entertainment is a company, and companies must make money to stay in business. I understand this because I make business decisions every day for my self-employed career. That said, there are times I take a stand for what’s right no matter how it might affect my career.

It’s obvious that Starship has been trying to broaden Monsta X’s international appeal with numerous concert and festival appearances around the world, including in the U.S. (including the Atlanta concert I attended this past July); collaborations with Western artists; and songs with English lyrics without sacrificing the group’s overall Korean-ness that makes K-pop distinctive. This has been a smart business decision. I’m a product of that smart business decision. Demographically, I’m the opposite of a teen or 20-something Korean fan. I’m a 49-year-old white woman from Florida, and I love K-pop. It has made me love music more than I have since I was a teenager in the 1980s listening to Duran Duran and Bon Jovi, and probably even more than then (though I still love my ‘80s music). It quite simply makes me happy in a current world that has the ability to make a person decidedly unhappy on a daily basis. And I know lots of other fans who fall into similar demographics, both here in the U.S. and in other countries.

Though I have never met the members of Monsta X or any other K-pop group, I nevertheless feel this unusual closeness because their music speaks to me, and their interactions with fans online and during concerts creates a genuine bond unlike anything I’ve witnessed before. And though I’ve never had children of my own, I have on many occasions felt a motherly protectiveness toward these idols who are young enough to be my children. When fans press in on them at airports, when sasaengs cross the line of personal space and personal safety, when netizens post nasty comments or fan the flames of fan wars, and when the companies don’t take care of their idols the way they should, I want to go all mama bear protecting her cubs. I don’t like to see good, kindhearted, hardworking people be mistreated. It’s just wrong. And that’s what has happened to Wonho, the latest victim of a system that states in no uncertain terms that not only must idols be perfect in every way from day one of their trainee days, they must have also been flawless from the time of their birth to the when they entered the company’s doors. This is the height of unrealistic. Not one person on this earth has lived a life without making at least a youthful misstep or two. What is important is if they learn from it and change their behavior. So even if the accusations toward Wonho were true, he has led an exemplary, hardworking, cares-immensely-for-his-fans life since then. Losing his career because of those accusations is overkill. It’s an overreaction. It’s quite simply wrong.

In America, the market you’ve been working so hard to cultivate, we believe in second chances. We believe in innocent until proven guilty. We believe in overcoming difficult beginnings by working hard to find success. And we believe in being trailblazers. This is where you have a truly unique opportunity to make history in a very positive way – both socially and business-wise. If you were to reinstate Wonho to Monsta X, put him back with his brothers, making Monsta X whole again, you would signal to fans that you’ve heard our voices, our cries for justice and change, that our opinions and support for the guys matter. We would be thankful. We would admire the stance and we’d support not only Monsta X but future Starship Entertainment ventures. We would back you with our dollars (and won, euros, francs, pesos, krones, yen, dinars, rupees, etc.), which really is the bottom line for a company. You would also go down in history in a history-making, positive way if you brought Wonho back and let those who would attack your idols know in no uncertain terms that you will protect your idols, that you will prosecute slander and libel to the fullest extent of the law. Make those type of people think twice about not only attacking your idols but all artists. By cancelling Wonho’s contract, seeming to side with the accusers at the expense of an extremely popular entertainer who has worked so hard for you, you are emboldening the type of people who derive a perverse joy from attacking others and trying to bring them down. That’s a dangerous signal to send. If things are going on behind the scenes now that you’re not able to share because of legal reasons, actions that will bring about Wonho’s return and appropriate legal action against his accusers, then thank you. I hope we’re able to see those things come to fruition soon.

I wonder if you might not fully understand how much goodwill you could create for your company if you were to take this action. As you’ve seen from the Monbebes’ efforts over the past 20 days, we are a loyal bunch. The screams of love and support for Wonho and the rest of the guys at the Atlanta concert I attended were deafening. We were dancing so much in the balcony that the balcony was moving. Translate that tremendous love and loyalty into support not only for Wonho and Monsta X but also your company by doing the right thing. That would be the best early Christmas gift Monbebes could receive.

And, finally, to Wonho, Shownu, Joohoney, Minhyuk, Kihyun, Hyungwon and I.M., I know this is a difficult time for you. I hope you’re able to take strength from the Monbebes’ support around the globe. We’re going to keep fighting to see things made right.

Sincerely,

Trish Milburn, proud Monbebe

#monsta x #wonho #shownu #minhyuk #kihyun #joohoney #i.m changkyun #hyungwon #starship entertainment #kpop

6 notes · View notes

chronicowboy · 5 years

Text

Are We the Strongest? -

Fight For Our Happy Ending

masterlist

Carol fell to the floor for the fifth time in ten short minutes that felt like a lifetime. She landed next to Tony who was already picking himself up after a fall she thought could have been fatal. He shuddered as he dragged himself up and off the floor, breaths coming out as pants. She pressed her head against the ground and used all her remaining strength to push herself up.

"Stay down, Danvers." Tony grunted, rolling his shoulder with a grimace. "Get your strength back. I can hold them off for a bit."

"You know, self sacrifice shouldn't be your go-to plan. Maybe like plan H or I." She grumbled whilst grabbing his outstretched hand. His strength was surprising as she flew up to her feet. "Not as weak as you look, old man."

"Shut up and focus." He pleaded with the look of a child throwing a tantrum for something they don't really want but now they've dug their feet in and they aren't going to give up until you do. Carol shook her head and threw a glance towards their opposition.

It was an enemy unlike any other. Not the most powerful they've faced, but the hardest to fight. Attacks were useless, they were foiled effortlessly. Defence was only just sustainable, but it didn't get them anywhere. Unplanned impulses only resulted in more unwilling embraces of the floor. Reflexes could be guessed. Perhaps, it wasn't so different from one of their respective fights. Tony had fought Steve and others he knew who knew him but not his true ability in the face of saving his loved ones. Carol had fought her entire fleet before, people she'd fought with for years but who didn't quite understand the full extent of her powers. In many ways, a foe that isn't foreign to you is deadlier than one who is. The partners knew this, but didn't know how to overcome it.

"I don't know how much longer I can do this." Tony huffed, cradling his left elbow. Carol closed her eyes in a prolonged blink, she hated it when he did that. Hated it more than any other of his little traits or mannerisms others despised enough to do something about. It was a very unwelcome reminder that Tony was mortal and more mortal than most. Many would think his many dalliances with death where he came out the other side stronger but more than happy to encounter the caped figure once more made him immortal. The first time, however, Carol had encountered the man was when life was seeping out of him into the absence of oxygen around him. The left arm, the heart that had been broken over and over again, was torturous in many ways. A reminder that he might die of natural causes which he would think was in vain. A death of old age rather than sacrifice that would leave the man content but to face many more years that would inevitably be full of pain and strife. Or a grand showdown that was much more difficult than it would have been years ago.

"You need me to take the reigns so you can have a rest, old man?" She hated the nickname at times like that but she couldn't let him know that she was scared. Probably should, but couldn't.

"FRIDAY, slap her." He ordered, too weak to lift his own arm. Carol blocked the poor attempt with one hand.

"Don't turn on me now, we've got bigger problems." The pair looked at their newest adversary and another weight settled on their shoulders. "Can we call in backup?"

"Nat's off trying to find Clint, Rhodey's AWOL somewhere, Nebula and Rocket are off world- DUCK!" The pair dropped to a crouch as another missile came for their heads.

"Short answer, Stark!" She hissed.

"No backup." He panted, tapping into his reserve energy to get back up. His hand moved to his ribs, there was definitely a bruise forming there. Checking on her partner, Carol threw whatever she laid a hand on back at their opponents with the last of her strength.

"You think I can fake a heart attack and get out of this or would that scar her for life?" He nodded, glancing at the pair of goons before them. Morgan gigled maniacally from her perch on the top of her pillow podium. Pepper whispered something into her ear before launching yet another teddy bear minion at the two heroes trying to climb onto an even battlefield.

"You sicko. That'd scar me never mind Morgan." She hissed, steadying the two fo them on the handrail.

"Now who's the big softie?" He quipped, grinning. It was nice to know someone cared and not because it was obligatory. Carol had chosen to love him.

"How is this so exhausting?" She groaned.

"Stark genes. Exhausting." Pepper called over the flying stuffed animals.

"You want me to end this right now?" She murmured, eyes trained on the two women.

"God, please." Tony groaned, sitting down on the top step.

"Irondark, would you tell us your evil plan?" Carol bowed to the supreme overlord of the lounge.

"NEVER!" She screamed, chuckling at her mother as if Carol's proposal was the most ridiculous notion she'd ever heard.

"Well, you leave me no choice. It's been a pleasure, Miss Stark." She felt the comforting rush of energy through her veins and flew at the young mastermind, catching her in her arms. They fell to the sofa as the parents cheered.

"Mommy! Traitor!" She accused, glaring over her aunt's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm tired. You're too good a villain for me." Pepper collapsed next to them as Tony crawled over and placed his head in her lap.

"Why did that take you so long, firefly?" He moaned.

"Wanted to watch you fall. See how many times you'd get up." She shrugged.

"Oh, I'll always stand up. Now I've got something to stand up for." His loving gaze swept over his girls and Carol felt a pang in her heart. She thought she'd lost her motivation when she'd found ash in place of two loving souls, but she discovered a new life to protect.

@marvelficwriter @galaxy-parker @bi-marvel @theamazingschneiderman @underoosstark @jmesrhodes @confettidogs @dixiehellcat @lucious-has-heard @phoenixinferno1023 @grilledkatniss @marvelrose

47 notes · View notes

theliberaltony · 4 years

Link

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

The impeachment process has for weeks seemed headed toward an important but perhaps unsurprising outcome: The U.S. House, on a largely party-line vote, impeaches President Trump. Then, the U.S. Senate, after a fairly short trial and also on a largely party-line vote, acquits him. We’ve now had two weeks of public testimony tying the president to a scheme to pressure Ukraine to launch an investigation of former Vice President Joe Biden and his son Hunter in exchange for almost $400 million in foreign aid and a White House visit for Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky. Officials in Washington have had time to digest those hearings, talk to their constituents and — perhaps most importantly — examine the initial wave of post-hearing polling.

So, will Trump be removed from office? Will Republicans face a major backlash for standing by him? Will Democrats face one for trying to force him from office?

The answer to all three of those questions — at least so far — is almost certainly not.

The most important story around the impeachment process is what hasn’t changed. Despite lots of damning evidence coming to light, impeachment as an issue hasn’t broken through partisan lines. Impeaching or impeaching and removing Trump from office remain very popular with Democrats and very unpopular with Republicans. But on a broader scale, it has a plurality of support: 48 percent of Americans are in favor while 44 percent are opposed, per FiveThirtyEight’s impeachment tracker. This is a small uptick in support compared to the beginning of October, just after the Ukraine scandal broke, when it was 45-45. Trump’s approval rating — perhaps the best single measure of his reelection chances this far out — has barely budged during that time. The same is true of the generic congressional ballot, which measures which party people want in control of Congress.

With no evidence of a public backlash, congressional Democrats seem to be leaning fully into impeachment. At the same time, congressional Republican opposition has not softened, as GOP members see polls showing their rank and file strongly behind Trump. Perhaps the most telling moment of the two weeks of public hearings came not from the officials testifying but from Rep. Will Hurd of Texas, a fairly moderate Republican and occasional Trump critic who is not running for reelection next year. Hurd, who heard all of the testimony up close as a member of the House Intelligence Committee, declared that he would not support impeachment before the hearings had officially concluded. If Hurd isn’t going to break with Trump (and isn’t bothering to even really consider the decision), I think it’s safe to assume very few, if not zero, House Republicans will support impeachment.

But despite the likely ending of this process seeming as inevitable as ever, I do think other things have changed slightly.

First, the potential for a few more House Democrats and some Senate Democrats to break with the party on impeachment has probably gone up.

Only two Democrats — Collin Peterson of Minnesota and Jeff Van Drew of New Jersey — voted against starting the initial impeachment inquiry. It’s likely that the vast majority of House Democrats will follow through and back the formal impeachment of the president. The hearings provided more details of inappropriate behavior by Trump and his advisers that buttress the Democrats’ decision to start the impeachment process. It’s also probably easier for a House member who voted for the inquiry to follow up and support impeachment itself, rather than risk seeming like a flip-flopper. Finally, another controversy emerged amid the impeachment process — Trump, over the objections of military leaders, softened the punishments of three service members accused of war crimes. That move is likely to harden the view among more moderate congressional Democrats that the president is abusing his powers as commander-in-chief and deserves to be impeached.

That said, it will be worth keeping an eye on the 29 Democrats in districts that Trump won in 2016 who voted for the initial impeachment inquiry. Do any of them have second thoughts? If 44 percent of Americans overall oppose impeachment or impeachment and removal, that number is likely to be an outright majority in districts where Trump won in 2016. If there is a Senate trial, the obvious Democrats to watch are Doug Jones of Alabama and Joe Manchin of West Virginia. Manchin is fairly conservative and praises Trump at times, while Jones is up for reelection next year in a very pro-Trump state. I would consider both of them possible, perhaps even likely, votes to acquit Trump.

Second, the potential for House or Senate Republicans to break with the party on impeachment has probably gone down.

No House Republican voted in favor of launching the impeachment inquiry last month. All but three Senate Republicans — Susan Collins of Maine, Lisa Murkowski of Alaska and Mitt Romney of Utah — supported a resolution condemning the House’s initial closed-door investigation.

Looking at the polls, it’s hard to see any Republicans breaking with the president, either in an impeachment vote in the House or in a removal vote in the Senate. Only 11 percent of Republican voters currently support impeachment. Even the independent-minded Romney, who is not up for reelection until 2024, has to be somewhat nervous about casting a vote in the face of so much resistance in his party, especially after getting some backlash in Utah for making even moderately negative comments about Trump with regards to the Ukraine scandal.

What about the 16 House Republicans and three senators — Lamar Alexander of Tennessee, Mike Enzi of Wyoming and Pat Roberts of Kansas — who are retiring from public office at the conclusion of this term? Never say never, but I would expect none of them to back impeachment. These retiring members are likely to seek jobs at lobbying firms and other organizations where they will be paid in part for their connections and ties to the Republican Party. A pro-impeachment vote is probably not that useful for retiring members — particularly if Trump wins a second term.

Third, the nature and number of articles of impeachment has probably changed.

Democrats have been angered by Trump urging officials close to him — such as acting White House chief of staff Mick Mulvaney — not to testify while simultaneously criticizing the inquiry for a dearth of witnesses who had direct contact with the president. So I think the odds of an article of impeachment involving obstructing Congress’s ability to investigate the president have increased since the start of the hearings. (Just such an article was adopted by the House Judiciary Committee against President Richard Nixon in the 1970s.)

And finally, the odds that either the House or the Senate shifts the schedule have probably gone up.

Members of both parties know how this is likely to end — a House impeachment in December and a Senate acquittal in January. They also know where the public stands. So I wonder if either party opts to change strategy. Do the Democrats consider putting off an impeachment vote or delaying it until early next year, both to try to force more witnesses from the administration to testify and to try to figure out if there is some way they can avoid a seemingly inevitable acquittal of Trump in the Senate?

Do Republicans, sensing no real backlash among the GOP base, make the trial in the Senate fairly long in an effort to interrupt the Democratic primaries, which start on Feb. 3 in Iowa and include six members of the Senate2 who would be jurors? I tend to think that Democrats will impeach before Christmas and that the Senate will hold a fairly short trial that gives the candidates concurrently serving in the Senate a chance to spend plenty of time in Iowa. But I wouldn’t rule out something odd happening.

Overall, though, the story of Trump’s impeachment so far has really been defined by partisanship — and partisanship is hard to overcome. That impeachment has split the country mostly along party lines is itself a testament to the fact that Americans do view the Ukraine scandal as serious — many independents and most Democrats have overcome their initial reservations about impeaching Trump. But now that impeachment has become a partisan issue, it’s simply difficult to imagine it not ending as one too.

#IFTTT #Politics – FiveThirtyEight #politics #538 #Perry Bacon Jr.

1 note · View note