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thirstyforcharacters · 3 years

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Tequila (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: Every person has a soulmate. When your soulmate experiences pain, so do you, and any bruises, scars, or other markings that they get appear on your skin. Or, the story of how aliens attacking Las Vegas was the best thing to ever happen to you.

Notes: Hello! I already did a very similar soulmate AU for Sam Wilson (which you can read here), but I love soulmate AU’s so much that I decided to do one for Bucky, too! Hopefully, I made them different enough that they don’t seem too repetitive. Did I write this while I was supposed to be watching a documentary on Bach for music history? Maybe. But I think this was a much better use of my time. Hope you enjoy! (no y/n, no pronouns)

Warnings: canon typical violence, alien invasion, blood (not too much tho), car crash

WC: 1.9 k

For all of your life, you couldn’t feel your left arm.

When you started to crawl, your parents noticed you only used your right arm to pull yourself forward while your left would hang limply at your side. Your parents brought you to the doctor, deeply concerned, but when she examined your arm, she found nothing wrong. No x-rays showed broken or deformed bones, and no MRI’s showed any problems in the brain. By all medical standards, you should be able to move your left arm. You just couldn’t. Everyone hoped that it would go away, but to their chagrin, it remained unmoving throughout your childhood. You obviously knew your arm was there since you could clearly see it, but you couldn’t feel the nerve endings inside it. When you poked your arm with your other finger, you felt absolutely nothing. And weirdly enough, your family said it was always cold to the touch, no matter how warm the rest of your body was.

You had a feeling that it had something to do with your soulmate, and when you reached adulthood (specifically around 24), you were almost positive that was the reason. You often woke up with random injuries that you knew you didn’t give yourself. Gunshot wounds, deep slashes, broken bones, and large bruises were commonly branded on your skin. You were positive that if your soulmate was getting shot at every other night, then they almost definitely had some sort of damage done to their arm that affected your own. But if they had had this condition since you were born, how old were they? That was always a question that kind of weirded you out. You didn’t particularly want to be “meant to be” with some wrinkly, old person! Especially if they were somehow getting themselves into this much trouble. And now that you thought about it, none of these injuries were on your (or their) left arm. How could that be if they’ve literally been hurt everywhere else on their body?

When you weren’t in and out of the hospital with randomly serious injuries, you were quite busy cooking up a storm in Turkey, Tacos, and Tequila, your restaurant in Las Vegas. You and your best friend, Nicolás, had opened it three years ago; you were the head chef and he ran the business side of things. The two of you had talked about opening a restaurant together since you were teenagers, so both of you had moved to Vegas together after college/culinary school. Together, you found that you were an unstoppable team, and within a year of opening, you were one of the most popular restaurants throughout all of Vegas! Most times, because you were so busy, your soulmate problem stayed in the back of your mind. But every once in a while, a bruise would appear on your eye or a large cut down the length of your leg, and you would be reminded again.

Nic, as you called him, already found his soulmate. Oliver had moved in with you a year ago, and joined you side by side in the kitchen. You became almost as close with him as you had with Nic. They were adorable together, and never made you feel like the third wheel. There were some times, though, where you found yourself a little bit jealous that they had found each other so quickly, and that neither of them had ever suddenly started bleeding all over a nearly complete order of mango fish tacos.

Whenever you got a little down about it, Nic would always clap you on the shoulder and say, “You’ll find them someday. And when you do, break their nose. They deserve it for the hell they’re accidentally putting you through.”

It never failed to make you laugh. You had half a mind to do just that when you met the love of your life. You just didn’t know when that would be.

On yet another hot and dry Nevada night, you were closing up at the restaurant (or morning, you supposed, since it was nearly 1 am). Nic, Oliver, and your other employees had gone home already, so it was only you that remained. You turned off the lights and locked the door. You pushed your way through the drunken crowds and tourists on the street and made your way to your car. As you were opening the door, you could hear gasps of shock coming from the crowd of people roaming the streets. You looked up and saw an eerie flash of green across the sky, and a strange-looking, portal appeared in the sky! Shrieks of fear permeated the air as grotesque, reptilian creatures began spilling from the portal.

Frantically, you flung yourself into your car and turned over the engine, hoping to escape the clutches of these aliens. Though your apartment was in the opposite direction of the portal, as per usual, there was a decent amount of traffic, so you weren’t sure how good your chances were. But you figured you’d at least be safer in your car than exposed outside of it.

You were able to pull into traffic and weave through it fairly well, making good use of the side streets that only the locals knew about. But the creatures were overtaking the city faster than you could drive. You knew you didn’t have long before they caught up with you.

Just when that thought popped into your head, a blinding flash of light appeared in your rearview mirror. A loud bang, almost like a cannon, sounded, and through your mirror, you saw a truck hurtling toward you at breakneck speed! You attempted to swerve out of the way, but the truck crashed into your car, shoving it against a street light! The driver’s side of your car crumpled against the lamppost, and the glass in your window shattered at the contact. You attempted to cover your face with your hands, but a piece of glass still managed to make a pretty deep cut above your left eye, as well as a few pieces of shrapnel sinking into your legs. The whiplash from the contact damaged your neck as well; pain spread throughout your neck and back. All you could do was sob in agony. You had never felt this much pain in your life.

Your hand was trembling as you unbuckled your seatbelt, but you found yourself unable to leave your car! The driver’s side door was crushed, the truck was smushed against your passenger door, and there was no way you would be able to climb out of the backseat, nor lift yourself out of the broken window with the injuries you sustained. You were trapped. You waited for a little bit, until some of the chaos surrounding you died down; even in your damaged state, you knew that no one would be able to hear you even if you screamed for help as loudly as you could.

You strained your ears, and were able to hear gunfire, commands being shouted, and the hissing of these reptilian creatures. Eventually, instead of the noise of a battle, you could hear voices trying to dig people out of the rubble. Somehow, they sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place how. Well, if they were rescuing people, you figured they were your only chance.

“Help,” you screamed, “I’m trapped in my car! Please help me!”

You heard footsteps sprinting in your direction and a voice call, “Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of there!”

You watched in amazement as the truck on your passenger’s side was surrounded by a glowing, red presence, and moved out of the way! It had to be the Avengers! Who else would be able to do something that crazy? You were brought out of your thoughts by your car being dragged away from the pole, making you jump. A face popped up in your shattered window. He was gorgeous; bright, blue eyes, short, chestnut hair, and a warm smile. He took hold of the broken door and wrenched it from its fastenings.

“Hi. My name is Bucky Barnes. This is Wanda Maximoff,” the man said, gesturing back to a woman wearing scarlet, “we’re going to get you out of here, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied, relieved, “thank you so much!”

He smiled again, “Oh, it’s no problem. You should probably stay there until the EMT’s get here. Moving might make your injuries even worse.”

You nodded slightly in reply, but the pull in your neck made you groan in pain.

He winced, “Try not to move that, either. You may not be bleeding there, but I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Okay.”

“Here, let me help you with that. I can at least stop the bleeding,” he offered, gesturing to your forehead and leg.

“Oh, thank you!” you answered.

He nodded and reached for some bandages he had in his jacket with his metal arm. His left arm. Suddenly, you noticed things you didn’t notice before. He also had a large cut above his left eye, in the same spot as your injury. It wasn’t bleeding, though, perhaps because of his enhancements. You noticed him moving his neck in a circular motion, seemingly to stretch it out. He had holes in his pants and small puncture wounds on his legs, in the same spots where glass was sticking out of you. Again, though, they were already healing. Could that be why you had never felt your arm before? Because your soulmate’s was metal? It would make complete sense.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t even realize you had zoned out until Bucky addressed you. He was gently cleaning the wound on your forehead.

“Yes,” you whispered, fixated on the wound on his forehead.

His eyebrow raised, “Are you sure? You seem a little out of it.”

“I-I’m fine. I just noticed something kind of strange. I think the cut on your forehead matches mine.”

He touched his forehead, “Oh, yeah, I forgot about that with the adrenaline and everything. Only got it maybe 20 minutes ago.”

“That’s when my car crashed. And you’re having neck pain, like me,” you murmured, “and your arm is metal. I’ve never been able to feel my arm.”

His eyes widened, “Really? You think we’re meant to be?”

“Maybe,” you replied.

He nodded, “It seems likely. What’s your name?”

You gave him your name and he smiled again.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a century.”

You giggled softly, “I guess that explains why I’ve been experiencing this since I was born. I was afraid you’d be gross and wrinkly.”

He chuckled, “Well, hopefully you don’t think I’m either of those things.”

“Definitely not.”

The EMT’s arrived then. Bucky stepped aside and the medics removed you from your car.

As you were being loaded into the ambulance, Bucky approached you.

“How can I get in contact with you after this?”

“Just come by Turkey, Tacos, and Tequila. It’s my restaurant, I’m almost always there,” you told him.

“Okay. I’ll drop by sometime soon, when you’re better of course.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“Me too.”

As he was walking away, you couldn’t stop the grin forming on your lips. Sure, what had happened to you today was terrible. But you knew you would heal, and now, you had also finally met your soulmate. No wonder why you were randomly injured all of the time! If today was any indicator of what the rest of your relationship would look like, though, you’d probably need all of that tequila you were selling for yourself.

#bucky barnes #winter soldier #marvel #mcu #Bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #Bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky barnes fic #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier fic #x reader #x reader fanfiction #x reader fic #x reader fluff #soulmate au

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mc-critical · 3 years

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So I was rewatching some of MYK Season 2 and it had me thinking..do you notice the insane amount of parallels and overall similarities in character arcs between MYK’s Beyazied (Gulbahar’s son) and MY’s Mustafa (Mahi’s son?). Both had a sense of undying loyalty and love/respect to the respective sultans of their time while also meeting their demise at the sultan’s hands, both maintaining positive relationships with their half-siblings despite opposition from their enviornments, both being the only children of mothers who weren’t favorites but were extremely politically ambitious and skilled. Both being princes popular with the janissaries of their time and were seen as a looming threat towards the sultan’s power. I even feel like like Beyazied and Mustafa were similar in their disposition and sense of justice and morality. Tell me am I wrong here because I really can’t unsee it they feel so similar to me😭

Yes, MCK Bayezid and MC Mustafa share the same character archetype (hence why they have the parallels you mentioned), but that's the only thing they're similar in for me. The archetype is only a baseline for both of their characters - their development goes in a very different direction.

The thing that sets them apart the most from the start, is that Mustafa's strenghts and flaws are shaped more by sheer personality, while Bayezid is a character shaped more by curcumstance. That leaves room for more development for Bayezid where he eventually changes his stance on people around him, while despite of every hint of change, intrigue or word of advice, Mustafa's principles and beliefs stay the same.

Both Mustafa and Bayezid have a missing part of their lives that shapes their flaws, but that part is different in both of them. No matter how much support Bayezid seemingly had, he always missed his mother and wanted to see her face he's long forgotten, he wanted to see her all the more with each and every letter of hers. And once that chance presents itself, thanks to Murat, no less (good job, lad, good job, indeed....), he would surely want to see his back from exile mother in a good light, despite of all the wrongs she has done. That's why Gülbahar was Bayezid's blind spot. His love and respect for his mother goes beyond comforting her, defending her, hiding her mistakes and saving her from death, something that Mustafa would be also likely to do - with each event passing, Bayezid also begins to listen to her more and more, becomes convinced of her words that he's born in a middle of a war and sets himself even further against Murat and Kösem. Mustafa, on the other hand, has always been next to Mahidevran in every step of the way, with everyone around him avoiding their separation at all costs, hence he can be much more independent of her perspective. She can only go so far with opposing Mustafa's decisions, he always ends up choosing to do what he sees as right and just, even when his beliefs are challanged. He doesn't let his beliefs to be challanged by anyone. He doesn't want to let his beliefs to be challanged by anyone. He loves his mother deeply and he's also developed a need to protect her at all costs, but that need is based on his awareness of all she has experienced and to prevent her to suffer or worry ever again, not out of missing her whole self, which makes it a need outside of Mustafa's own predicament and decisions.

Mustafa wanting to keep his principles firm originates from his wish to prove himself to his father. Süleiman is Mustafa's blind spot. We see how much he wants to be next to him and have his attention even when he was little and since Mustafa was given a sense of purpose ever since then, too (while Bayezid has been living a life where he didn't yet see the dangers of the world in their fullest extent before Murat's complete downfall and before Gülbahar; he even mentioned to her that he didn't want the throne, even though he was constantly suspected of betraying Murat.), sure he would want to prove himself worthy and follow what SS (and Ibro and Mahi to an extent, too, but especially SS) has taught him when it came to ruling. (like when he chose justice instead of SS's order in E92, which, even though he disobeyed, wouldn't be right or just, since that person was slandered. Musti revealed that he acted like what SS has told him in the past, it being justice is most important.) Even when his father acted against him, Mustafa trusted him blindly, refusing to believe that a father could ever kill his son, even in close probability, no matter what everyone else around him said. (he wrote the letter when Cihangir told him of SS's words in E123, but Musti went to SS anyway, his trust being much stronger than his biggest inkling of suspicion.) He loved him too much, even when he slowly came to realize the growing wedge between them, never succumbing to the temptation to directly rebel against him. (except the kaftan situation, where his trust was directly put into question by a supposed action of his and even then Musti went to merely confront him and die as a warrior if it lead up to this, not kill him, and the trust became stronger than ever afterwards.) Bayezid, on the other hand, always sensed the danger Murat posed in some way, and he realized that no matter how much he proved his loyalty at first and refused drastic action at first, he would always keep suspecting him. Bayezid was allowed to see Murat in his biggest cruelty, at one point, Bayezid didn't see him as fit to rule anymore and was more than ready to dethrone him after an act too cruel by him in Bayezid's eyes. Even when he respected Murat, Bayezid didn't seem to want to prove his worth as much to him or to have gained his principles and beliefs by him and the bond between them wasn't as close, not for Bayezid. The cruelty of the world and Murat's own cruelty grew more and more, hence Bayezid became more open to criticize them and more ruthless, as a result of this. He strived to evade his wrath more than anything. And at one time, there was no turning back now between Murat and Bayezid, which also played a part in his execution.

The way Mustafa views Hürrem and the way Bayezid views Kösem are both very different, too. While I don't feel Mustafa completely hated Hürrem, per say and even in S04, he was rather done with her bullcrap than anything else, he had some resentment for her. He was aware that she played a part in Mahidevran's suffering and sensed that Hürrem giving birth hurts his mother. Still, he knew where the line was: he respected her position as a Sultana and the mother of his brothers, didn't blame her instinctively, didn't fault Cihangir for choosing his own mother in the kaftan sutuation and was willing to listen even in the peak of his resentment. (in E121, where he didn't believe that she wasn't behind the trap.) Bayezid had a more familial bond with Kösem, since she was like a mother to him when his real mother was missing. I feel he appreciated all the care she took for him and even loved her until a point. But once he turned against her, the mutual respect between them was gone completely, with him eventually discarding all she did for him and Kösem disowning him. His resentment for Kösem slowly grew through Gülbahar: the seeds were planted with the letters she was sending to him, which made Bayezid feel he didn't belong, opening a hole in his heart, and then Bayezid being open to listen to Gülbahar more and more with her setting him against both Murat and Kösem. Bayezid tied Kösem to Murat, while in truth, she acted outside of him. Bayezid eventually became convinced that Kösem was a danger. But while circumstances also helped, him standing "on the other side of the war" was bound to break them apart. Bayezid and Kösem already had different goals. The more he sided with Gülbahar's view, the more that cemented their rift. He fully stood against her once she confronted him about him hiding Gülbahar, that made him give up on her to the point he agreed to have her killed in the Eski Saray, since then it would be easier to take down Murat. Despite of Mahidevran's view and experiences, Mustafa's resentment of Hürrem grew because of her own actions: all her attempts to kill him are what made him embittered towards her to the point of him declaring that he won't have mercy on her and Rüstem. He views her actions separately from those of Süleiman- he's aware that she's trying to eliminate him with all her might and that she could maybe involve Süleiman in that, too, but still strives to see a bigger picture. All that is why his actions against her are more defensive than they're offensive and only go so far as to show her her place in some way, not to directly try to kill her, since he regards the feelings of his siblings, too. He sees her and Rüstem as a tandem in S04, but even then he would do actions more against Rüstem than against Hürrem.

I would say that Mustafa has a better relationship with his brothers than Bayezid. He truly loves them a lot and always considers what they have to say, no matter what, but his brothers themselves, even Selim, loved him, too, and never got in conflict with him, expect for the aftermath of him saving Selim from the janissaries, some side scenes with Mehmet when they made amends almost immediately or that one case where they both were little. And he indeed never stops caring about them. I wouldn't say the same for Bayezid, however. While he did share the same affection Mustafa had for his brothers at first, Kasim always had a strained relationship with him and it kept getting more and more strained by each day (even Ibrahim resented him at one point, too). And yes, truly, Bayezid did try to reach out for him many times, Kasim seeing Bayezid and Gülbahar's secret firsthand and the whole Kalika situation sealed things between them to the point of no return. He set himself against Kasim completely, turning out that Gülbahar succeeded to drive the wedge between them. (of course, Mahidevran also had this similar intent, but what I found interesting with her is that, E55 aside, she mostly tried to make Mustafa look at them merely as rivals and in E69 she did tell him that his love for them made her proud regardless; I'm preparing a whole post about comparing Gülbahar and Mahidevran I hope I'll finish some day ahahah) By deciding to take what's rightfully his, Bayezid disregarded his brothers, too. (I understand why he did, but still.) His perspective on them changed just like everything else.

I agree that both Mustafa and Bayezid have a sense of justice, but while Mustafa's justice is based more on morals, principles, nobility, familial bonds and "doing the right thing" in general, Bayezid's justice becomes more "warped". Bayezid sees many injustices done to him or his mother and no matter how much he held back from acting the way his supporters wanted him to, he comes to respond to the injustice with injustice, as well. Or worse yet, he already views the injustice as justice. He perceives leaving his previous, "purer" principles behind as what is right and since he's in a war, he's already ready to do "whatever it takes" to ascend the throne. It's like he restrained himself for too long while reality around him ensued. Mustafa was always aware of this reality, even if deep down inside, even when he was trying to deny it when it came to SS, yet he chose not to leave "his own self" behind. Despite of all the intrigues against him, he responded to the injustice with justice. He held onto this until the end. He held onto this in spite of every opposition or injustice. And yes, both of these approaches were to Mustafa and Bayezid's detriments, respectively, in their distinct circumstances.

Sure, both of Mustafa and Bayezid did "the right thing" prior to their executions (going to SS - choosing not to go to the persian şah as a way out). It was expected for Mustafa, due to his established character and flaws, but for Bayezid it has become the exception - I saw him as more irritated that Gülbahar and Sinan worked behind his back when he told them not to a while ago, but maybe when he didn't succeed to do what he attempted to get on the throne, he decided that he'd rather die, but not run. And his mother's safety was still his first priority, even in death. Even then he didn't exactly realize his mistake, rather that he would be executed for it, since he still acted high and mighty in front of Kösem. Mustafa wasn't really aware of why SS called him in the first place, he wasn't aware of the intrigue with the letter, he didn't know what went wrong, hence he didn't have a true reason to doubt all that, despite of the words of everyone else, so of course he approached the situation like he typically would. It was only Cihangir's words to him where the doubt appeared and he still didn't back down on his decision. Bayezid took a more immediate decision based on curcumstance (with one scene with him ruminating in his chambers), while Mustafa took the decision he usually would. They were both executed by their fathers, but due to different reasons and even before the executions and with their once same foundation as characters, both of them acted differently here.

Though no matter how different they turn out to be in hindsight for me, I still consider MCK Bayezid as a response to MC Mustafa anyway - what MC Mustafa would've been if he let curcumstance influence him and decided to act against his father. (I also did mention in your previous ask about Mustafa that the fandom does tend to view him as MCK Bayezid's exact copy sometimes, but that isn't quite true.) When the crippling realization that your parent could disregard you comes through and you decide not to stand by that and let your survival instinct kick in, after all. Anyhow, I find both of them very interesting to compare and contrast and I love both of their characters, so thanks for giving me the chance to delve into this topic at last. ^^

#magnificent century #muhteşem yüzyıl #muhtesem yuzyil #magnificent century: kösem #magnificent century kösem #magnificent century kosem #sehzade mustafa #sehzade bayezid #ask #stuffandthangs

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mnemo-li · 3 years

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Calebros: A Rant About My Favorite VTM NPC

I do love the newer Vampire: the Masquerade content, but sometimes the writing leaves a lot to be desired. A prominent example is - what in my opinion is - the butchery of Calebros’ character in Beckett's Jyhad Diary.

While I do love seeing the more brusque side of Calebros’ personality, I don’t think I’ve ever recalled him being this vulgar in the original Clan Novels. He was definitely not dropping the f-bombs left and right, and even his gruff manner had more to do with dry humor, sarcasm, and keeping up the dignified image fit for a clan leader. I do realize that this series of chat is set much after his whole ordeal as Prince of New York is over, so maybe the experience really changed him. However, the in-universe explanation of his drastic shift in personality is lacking– it is most likely the result of a change in writers which led to inconsistent writing and characterization.

Here are some examples of scenes that presents his characterization in a more nuanced light.

Scene 1: The Nictuku Accusation

“They would have eaten me, I tell you!” “I believe you, Jeremiah,” Calebros said in a forced, calm tone. He was tired of nodding politely, of reassuring his clanmate. Jeremiah could be a difficult person to like at times. This was rapidly becoming one of those times. “Don’t you humor me!” Jeremiah snapped. “I’ve been coming to you about this for weeks now.” Seems more like years, Calebros thought. “And still you’ve done nothing. Nothing!” Jeremiah paced around, gesticulating wildly. There was no second chair by Calebros’s desk, and for this very reason. He mostly didn’t like guests, didn’t want guests, didn’t want to encourage them to sit down, to take a load off and stay for a while. Most anyone who had reason or inclination to visit Calebros was irate, complaining, or tiresome. Jeremiah happened to be all three presently. “That is not true,” Calebros assured him. Jeremiah snorted in disgusted. “What, then? Tell me. What have you done?” “I have considered quite carefully your report.” “Ha! Like I said, nothing. ‘Considered my report…’” Jeremiah repeated contemptuously. “This is what I think of you and your reports—” he said, grabbing a handful of papers from the nearest stack on Calebros’s desk. Jeremiah made to fling them into the air— Instantly, Calebros’s hand shot out and latched around his visitor’s wrist. Talons pricked undead flesh ever so slightly. “Believe me,” said Calebros evenly. “You do not want to do that.” They faced each other for a moment, one monstrous creature restraining the hand of another. Jeremiah’s fingers, biting into the papers, were long and grotesquely thin, little more than needles of bone. His entire body was thin and hard and covered with knots, bulging masses of hardened tissue, like an old, gnarled swamp tree. Finally he stopped resisting Calebros and returned the reports to the desk. “I’m sorry,” Jeremiah said and resumed his pacing, just as intently if less frenetically.

This is from the Nosferatu clan novel. Here, Jeremiah is trying to get Calebros to believe that there truly are Nictukus dwelling in the sewers. Calebros is, frankly, tired of hearing the folk tale especially when he has other pressing matters to deal with. Yet, even with his patience paper thin, he does not lash out at his broodmate. He is shown to be deeply introverted, anti-social perhaps, but he does not let his own nature affect his duties. As the Nosferatu primogen - as the leader of the clan - he has to listen to the concerns of his family, no matter how absurd. He knows when to express his authority, and he never abuses it. Again, no f-bombs dropped.

Scene 2: The Salt Lake

“Geez, what am I, your mother?” Emmett asked. “No,” Calebros said. “You are my brother, my broodmate.” “Brood, litter, whatever. We were both chosen to suck the old blood tit, so who am I to ask questions?” Calebros sighed. Blood tit, indeed. “That’s not how you remember it.” Now it was Emmett’s turn to sigh. “Don’t do this. Don’t get all… You always do this, get all touchy-feely we’re-all-brothers-in-the-blood, when you soak your head, blah, blah, blah…” “Make light of it if you will—” “I will. Thank you very much. Got enough salt here?” Emmett flicked some at Calebros.

This is from the Nosferatu clan novel. Here, Calebros has just came up from his meditation within the mud hole / salt lake. He is shown to be introspective and even sentimental. In terms of character voice, his more poised speaking style and inner monologue is contrasted against Emmett’s rough, colloquial style.

Other Sources

In the Calebros graphic novel, a similar scene is shown where Calebros is depicted to be trying and failing to remember his past before he became a vampire, losing his mind as he mixes up imagination with false memories. His inner dialogue in the graphic novel shows him saying:

“Do I tell him that his prince, his... compatriot?, is losing his mind? Never.”

This very much reflects his true nature. In Vampire: the Masquerade, there is a system of nature vs demeanor. According to his character sheet, his demeanor is that of a “director” while his nature is a “martyr (penitent)”.

Director: To the Director, nothing is worse than chaos and disorder. The Director seeks to be in charge, adopting a "my way or the highway" attitude on matters of decision-making. The Director is more concerned with bringing order out of strife, however, and need not be truly "in control" of a group to guide it. Coaches, teachers, and many political figures exemplify the Director Archetype.

Martyr: The Martyr suffers for his cause, enduring his trials out of the belief that his discomfort will ultimately improve others' lot. Some Martyr simply want the attention or sympathy their ordeals engender, while others are sincere in their cause, greeting their opposition with unfaltering faith in their own beliefs. Many Inquisitors, staunch idealists, and outcasts are Martyr Archetypes.

Penitent: The Penitent exists to atone for the grave sin she commits simply by being who she is. Penitents have either low self-esteem or legitimate, traumatic past experiences, and feel compelled to "make up" for inflicting themselves upon the world. Penitent Archetypes aren't always religious in outlook; some truly want to scourge the world of the grief they bring to it. Repentant sinners, persons with low self-esteem, and remorseful criminals are examples of the Penitent Archetype.

All of these quotes, if feel, matches very much with the Calebros I knew from the clan novel saga. Below are also a set quotes detailing Calebros’ inner dialogue in his graphic novel.

“As prince, only I can save them, only I can keep them from looking where they shouldn’t. A force exists underneath this city, sleeping, and it must remain so, lest we all perish.

“Augustin, my sire, left us to investigate the Nictuku, and came back to me with this information. Could this be Gehenna? The Final Nights? When the Ancients awake to devour their errant children? Can it be stopped? Should it be stopped? Everything that is done is a hope of staving off the inevitable. Why?”

“My embrace into this world was a foregone conclusion, made for me by Augustin. It is no different for anyone else. Why then do we not welcome the coming Armageddon? Exchange one world for another. It sounds almost painless, except I would never accept such a course, neither would my fellow Nosferatu. Neither would my fellow Kindred, for that matter.”

He is incredibly contemplative, and determined too, willing to fight against the inevitable apocalypse of the vampires. As long as his clan and the Kindred as a whole does not give up, does not give in the the despair of Gehenna, he too will be willing to fight for the survival of others.

Scene 3: Against a Master Manipulator

The character of Hesha is... complex. I see him as sort of a sweet-talking, cunning, charismatic cult leader. Here is a dialogue between him and Calebros.

“No harm was done,” Hesha said softly, his voice still the slightest bit scratchy from the ordeal he’d undergone. “As you say,” said Calebros, not looking up and continuing to write furiously. “You concede without agreeing.” Hesha laughed quietly. Calebros’s head whipped up. Angry words were ready on his lips, but the Egyptian’s smile was not mocking. The Setite obviously realized the weakness of his position, physically and strategically, as well as the fragility of their alliance. “Candor is important between friends,” Hesha said. “Otherwise, perceived insults take hold and fester.” “I am quite accustomed to festering,” Calebros said curtly. “I fear that I’m growing so as well,” Hesha said, squeezing one of the boils that stood raised about one of his many open wounds until the canker popped, and frothy pus ran down his arm. He laughed quietly again. Calebros punctuated a written sentence with a particularly violent period. “Your woman willfully disobeyed her instructions.” “She exercised discretion,” Hesha countered. “She blatantly disregarded the safety of my people.” “If anything had gone wrong,” Hesha said, “it would be Pauline lying torn on the ground. Your people would have faded into the night, none the worse for wear.” Calebros fumed. Probably Hesha was correct—but the Nosferatu was not about to admit as much. “I will speak with her,” Hesha said reasonably. “She has not encountered those of your clan before. She’s not aware of how strongly your predilection for…” “Cowardice?” Calebros suggested accusingly. “Prudence, I was going to say. She’s not aware of how strongly your predilection for prudence runs.” Good choice of words, Calebros thought. But, then, Hesha always chose his words carefully, always seemed to know just the right thing to say. It was discomforting in a way, how easily the Setite could alleviate tension with just a few words. Go ahead, Eve. Take a bite of the apple. Adam might like some too. But it seemed that they needed one another—and that outweighed their natural and mutual tendencies to distrust one another. Just barely.

Hesha’s actions managed to get under Calebros’ nerves, as seen in his curt speech, his furious writing, his accusatory reply to Hesha. He is angry for the safety of his clan (which, as seen from all the other sources, is something very dear to him). He is even shown to be stubborn, refusing to admit that Hesha was correct. Even still, he keeps his head rather than loose his cool completely. He also realises Hesha’s smooth words for what they are- manipulation. He is willing to compromise and form a sort of alliance with Hesha too, despite of his distrust and personal feelings.

Calebros and Ramona

I found the strange friendship Calebros had with the Gangrel Ramona to be incredibly touching, and tragic due to the turns it took towards the end (which I won’t spoil). Below are some excerpts from the Nosferatu clan novel showing Ramona’s initial meeting with Calebros and his later assessments of her character.

Neither Pauline nor the other girl, Ramona, had been subjected to the full brunt of facing a Nosferatu. Not until now, that is, when they were brought into Calebros’s presence. He did not hide his true appearance from them. And he could read the dismay, the fear and disgust, on their faces. Of the two, Pauline made the worthier attempt, attempt, to maintain her demeanor of professional detachment—perhaps Ruhadze had taught her well. The Gangrel, unsurprisingly, was not so couth. She gawked, both at Calebros and at Hesha in his current condition, and she hid her revulsion quite poorly, if she tried at all. […] Ramona looked at Calebros again, a more measured look this time, trying to see through the deformities. Good girl, Calebros thought. Young and brash, but not stupid.

Ramona reached for a calendar on Calebros’s desk, but tossed it back when she realized it was from 1972. “That’s still a whole month, and nobody knows where Leopold was that whole time. He could have gone back to the cave.” Smart girl, Calebros thought. He was leading her along the same path of reconstructing events that he had followed.

He compliments her intelligence again and again, and seems genuinely fond of her. Which I believe is why, after he became Prince of New York, he allows her a private audience with him to which he offered her a safe passage out of town which she rejects, viewing his actions as a betrayal. Below is an excerpt from what I think is the Clan Brujah novel.

The hunched form stepped forward, leaning heavily against the seatbacks as he came. Ramona kept straining to pick out the sound of broken gasps that must accompany such labored progress, but the air did not stir. "You had requested an audience, my dear. A private audience. I have gone to some pains to secure a place where we might be alone. Privacy is such an indulgence here. All too often, I find myself unable to justify the expense of importing it. And there is always someone else jealous of such decadence. But you have not come to hear of my distractions. Sit here, next to me, and tell me why you have come.”

[…]

“Calebros chuckled low, a sound like an engine turning. "No, I don't imagine you would. I will miss your straightforward style, Ramona. I find it refreshing. But already you know that there is no longer any place for you here. In the midst of battle—against the Sabbat and later, against Leopold and the Eye—we could afford certain marriages of convenience. But these partnerships will not survive the challenges of peacetime. Your associates, Mr. Ruhadze and Mr. Ravana, they found themselves in much the same position. Each has already left New York.”

[…]

“Calebros was silent for a time, letting her wind down. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you with the Eye, Ramona. And I'm sorry you will have to leave us. Believe me, I would like nothing better than to find a place for you here. I will have sore need of people who can be relied upon in the nights ahead. But you know what you would be up against if you remained here— the posturing, the none-too-subtle snubbing, the outright backstabbing. You are a rarity among our kind, Ramona. But because you are different, you will be hated and eventually destroyed if you stay among the society of the damned. Know that I will remember our time together fondly. If I can be of any assistance to you in relocating..." "No, I understand. It's 'thanks for your help; here's your bus ticket.' Well, I don't need any of your favors. I don't like the strings attached to them. And I resent the fact that you think I'm so stupid that I'll let you screw me over and then thank you for it." "Ramona...”

Again, even during his tenure as Prince of New York he is so damn eloquent, I definitely can’t fathom the word fuck ever slipping out of his mouth. He is compassionate, helping Ramona perhaps for future gains too, but mainly I believe he genuinely wants to do something right, give her the happy ending she deserves for once.

Moreover, I have a soft spot for this quote of Calebros pondering about Ramona’s nature, why she’s always so angry at the world, why every word out of her mouth sounds like an accusation. It showcases well his world-weariness, a cynical attitude that hides his concerns for others.

What have you seen that makes you so angry, so bitter, little one? Calebros wondered. Family killed? Have you been betrayed? How many times, I wonder. You’d best get over it, if you hope to survive.

So... yeah. I’d pay money to see an accurate portrayal of Calebros in a newer media otherwise I might have to write my own fanfic pairing my OC with him

#vampire: the masquerade #new york by night #calebros #vtm

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pyrewriter · 3 years

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Short Medical leave

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Eliksni name pronunciation: Sovrreik (Sov-rr-ike)

Uncle was ecstatic to see that we had not only made it through the night but managed to save all those that would have otherwise been left to their fate. The Dregs who assisted me in the trench were to be promoted for valiance as well as their display of loyalty and ability. Similarly to how my brother and I these Dregs would skip the rank of Wretch but they would not yet be vandals, moving directly to Marauders was a significant honor nonetheless. Ogethres had been thinking of rewarding them and my report gave him more than enough to use as justification. The fellow Vandal would not become a Captain but would be honored for their role in assisting defend the wounded.

Deliberately I did not mention the Wretch who had earlier attempted to strike a defeated Risen's tiny machine. During the flight back in the Skiffs of a morning crew they approached me and expressed their regret, I scolded them but felt that was enough. There was no sign of deception in their words ,if there was they could not hide it from me, so reporting would be demeaning. I left them with wisdom uncle once told me once "An enemy defeated, be watched, but left well alone".

Uncle sent me to the infirmary just to be sure that I was not internally injured from prolonged combat. The medical staff asked me to lay down so they could properly examine me but when I tried my body refused to relax fully. While I was checked over I couldn't help but chuckle at the hilarity of how I most likely looked like one the old stone likenesses of humans often found in city remnants. Once the medical machines came up as normal the medics told me to avoid combat for a while just to make sure I wasn't on the brink of collapsing.

Normally I would have simply thanked them for their care and advice before charging headlong into the next mission but I decided to listen to our medical experts for once. Fortunately there was always more than enough work that needed to be done, with my engineering skills I favored more hand on jobs. Sometimes younger Dregs that had heard of or seen my work in the field would murmur in curious clicks whenever I would dive for maintenance on submerged areas of our home. I always thought it sobering for the younger in the guild and humbling for myself as it kept me from discounting the effort of others or believing myself greater because of my station.

Brykis had similar sentiments but if one were to ask him he would tell them that he simply didn't like the thought of his brother being left out. I would often find him helping process collected salvage or teaching fresh Vandals how to use and maintain their equipment. Father Pyrrhaks was always busy with political squabbles as our uncle Ogethres trusted few others with such delicate responsibilities but they rather enjoyed more menial tasks. Often in luling times both Ogethres and Pyrrhaks would wear simple robes and chat casually or help with small unofficial tasks around the coast.

A few days into our off time ,before Brykis or myself had even fully woken, our door opened, uncle's unhelmed face greeted us with a smile. "Come, relax today, little responsibility, Pyrrhaks join soon" he said nodding for us to follow him once we were dressed. During our medically required break, uncle seemed to realize just how long it had been since all five of us had been present at one time at the coast with little to keep us busy. Brother left first after wrapping himself in more relaxed cloth than our usual armor, I was still feeding on my morning Ether from Sekos-4 after wrapping myself. When I followed Brykis father was already with them so I was last but with all of us gathered now uncle revealed his intent.

"Long time since had much free-time, wanted to spend with family" he clicked with almost excited vigor, I smiled beneath my wraps and chuckled slightly. In my many years of life I had heard many recounts of the ferocity of Arkons, their amazing strength, how Risen struggled with an all but unguarded priest reclaimed from the Prison of Elders. All these stories are true yet they never tell of their lives off the battlefield or how they were as leaders. Sometimes I wondered if they were anything like uncle but from what I know of the times before House Dusk I doubted it.

Following Ogethres we waved and warmly said hello to those we passed as we walked, the casual nature of our guild on full display. I've heard from wandering gangs and our usual traders that we are strange because of our lax attitude with a thriving gathering of Eliksni so close to the Great Machine. Whenever they remarked on such things I always compared us to when our people first met humanity, perhaps weak at a glance behind our walls but every maw hides teeth. Often such words would get me sideways looks and in truth I couldn't blame them, it was a human saying.

Uncle had walked us down near one the end of the wall that bordered our home where it met the waters edge. It was a rather quiet area while still having line of sight across everything to the opposite end of the wall. There were a small number of Dregs and Vandals milling about moving aquatic animals of all sorts of shapes, sizes, and colors that they had caught. Ogethres called with a loud clack that got the attention of a more round looking Captain who raised an arm in greeting before lumbering over to us.

"Greetings my Arkon, how been, long time no talk" she clicked with a flemish voice.

Ogethres waved a hand "Been well, busy and well, apologies for little talk, much happened" he chuckled "should know, you part of that".

"Bahg, so much movement, difficult move so much so quickly, thankful for you, Ogethres my Arkon" the Captain replied with clear gratitude in her voice. Bowing her head she turned with a wave for us to follow as she showed us a spot among other workers casually chatting or humming tunes. "Four sets, as requested, told other to treat same as any" the Captain listed, adding with a chuckle under her breath "Hehe, can't stop all though" she joked

"Your effort enough, thank you friend, Great Machine bless" Ogethres told them with a low chitter and a hand over his heart. Pyrrhaks, Brykis, and myself bowed our heads slightly and rasped in thanks for the Captains effort to coalesce as well as allowing us to use their equipment for recreation. The Captain echoed the blessing before heading off to direct idle dregs to what needed to be cleaned or stuffed with coolant. "Come, let us 'fish' as it is called" uncle stated as he strode across the sand toward a set of poles with string dangling from them. I recognized such poles from movies I had stored in Sekos-4.

All four of us were absolutely terrible at using the poles which led one of us ,often uncle, getting a sharp metal hook caught on themselves. Despite this however we continued to learn both through trial and error as well as tips from fellow Eliksni around us fishing around us. Once everyone was able to get their hooks into the water with relative consistency we were fishing as a family, it felt nice, a calm that I hadn't known for quite some time. We caught a fair amount of aquatic life but nothing astonishing, patience, luck, and knowledge were what made one good at catching water dwelling creatures.

Time felt like it slipped by while we sat enjoying the presence of each other and before we realized it the sun was setting over the horizon. We had managed to spend an entire day sitting in the sand with poles in hand to help feed hatchlings and sprog. Thankfully nothing that couldn't be handled by those uncle left in charge appeared during our time on the edge of the wall. While the rest of my family went off to rest or double check the feeds for anything that slipped through I went to fulfill my nightly duties. Slipping into my work harness I chuckled at myself ,it was a completely peaceful day for our guild, still I worked through the night consuming only enough Ether to not deprive myself.

The next morning I found myself being woken by an engineering Dreg, apparently I had blacked out with my legs dangling from an access hatch. Laughing at their description of how they found me ,"Similar Arkon threw you during accession, right in hole", I thanked the Dreg before heading to my quarter. Luckily I had been awoken before most others so no one knew that I never made it back after they bedded down. Brykis did wonder what I was doing up so soon as I fumbled around trying to get my standard armor on.

"On Ether crew, morning deploy" I told him, it was no lie, I did sign on to be escort for an Ether extraction at the earliest signs of day.

He shook his head while rubbing a set of eyes with one hand "Doctor told no exertion, you against better judge?" he asked pointedly.

"Extracted before, same spot, quiet, go stretch legs, take light load" I reassured him grabbing only my dagger "Worry much, brother". Taking a moment to pay tribute to Esyra before leaving I set off to meet the other members of what would be my crew in the hangar to be told the details of our mission. During the brief I learned we were taking our Prime Servitor ,Sovrreik, which explained the larger than normal present crew. Ogethres thought it best to keep them within the safety of the ketch ever since the Risen had discovered our underground compound before.

I found it odd that we were taking the prime servitor but before I could raise the question as to why we were taking such an important figure I got my answer. "Risen damage collection servitors, as see, taking extra guard, collected sector before, near coast, safe, pack light" the leading Captain clicked tossing aside a data pad. Most were fairly new Vandals but they had enough experience with combat that I was unconcerned about any wildlife we may encounter. Boarding our Skiffs and hovering as we waited for Sovrreik.

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#destiny #eliksni #fallen #eliksni fanfic #Ellrimksyt #Chapter 10

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cthruthestars · 4 years

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compañera (a Javier Peña x Reader fic)

Summary: A series of snapshots of Javier Peña and the Reader's relationship and his fixation with calling you "compañera". Rating: M Words: 7922 Warnings: canon-typical violence, swearing, use of alcohol, mentions of sex

(Y/N - your name, Y/L/N - your last name)

Cross-posted on Ao3, if you’d like to read there or leave a review: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22268422

This is a fucking nightmare.

The words on the page in front of you started blurring together no matter how hard you tried to squeeze your eyes or rub your temples in a pitiful effort to force them to make sense again. Soon, your vision was filled with smudged black ink in the vague shape of letters and you couldn’t stand it anymore. A deep sigh escaped your lips and you allowed your head to fall limp onto your forearms.

The DEA’s task force (consisting of you, Murphy and Peña) had gotten a gift, of sorts, from the local police: reports from around the time when Pablo Escobar had been arrested briefly. The only problem was that the files spanned years and even though you knew the exact year you needed, the reports weren’t organized even remotely and you had to comb through hundreds of papers for only one small but highly significant folder, which contained evidence that Escobar was linked to the drug trade in Colombia and Miami. You knew you had to be thankful to even have this stack of files – it was more than you’ve had for weeks on Pablo – and the snitch had been rightly terrified shitless to even give you those in fear of the kingpin finding out and taking care of him. But right at that second?

You couldn’t give a rat’s ass about gratitude. All you knew was that you were exhausted and you wanted to catch some shut-eye in your own, albeit shitty, bed.

Murphy was at the desk on your left, steadily and surely going through each report he had in his stack. He had taken some smoke breaks and a couple of calls from his wife, but he didn’t look nearly as desperate as you felt. You weren’t sure if you envied him or pitied him. Peña had disappeared some time ago, presumably to smoke outside, but you weren’t sure. A small part of you was annoyed that he was enjoying cool and fresh air while you and Murphy were holed up in the small, smoke and file-filled office, drowning in despair and delirium. As soon as that train of thought finished, you realized you were being unnecessarily dramatic and you slightly hit your head onto your forearms.

“You okay there, Y/L/N?”

“Yep,” you answered, voice muffled. It was a miracle Murphy even understood what you said.

“Sure?” he pressed.

You hummed in affirmation, hoping Steve would drop it before you snapped in frustration. You knew he was just being a good partner but common sense and manners had flown out the window hours ago, when you had first sat in your god-awful chair.

“I’ve got the answer to her problem, Murphy, don’t worry.”

At the sound of Peña’s voice, you raised your head eagerly, causing a bit of vertigo to invade your senses but you ignored it.

“The report?”

“I wish,” he replied, coming over to your desk. He looked way better than when you last saw him, the familiar mischievous glint in his eye and his lips curved in a smirk. “I mean coffee, compañera.”

Amidst the disappointment that you were likely to spend the night at the office, your face lit up as Peña handed you a cup, filled to the brim with black coffee. The smell wafting from the warm mug alone gave you a small burst of energy, so you eagerly took a generous gulp. Immediately, the fog clouding your mind cleared and you looked up at your second partner with a look you hoped showed sincere gratitude.

“Thank you, Javi.”

He smiled and mock-saluted in response, heading to the desk on your right, leaving you in the middle, always in the middle between Murphy and Peña.

You were assigned to Medellín shortly after Steve Murphy, headquarters deeming it necessary to embed as many agents as possible without it becoming too worrisome for the local government. The partnership had started out rocky and unsure, mistakes were made because of unwillingness to trust and that had quickly sobered up all parties involved. Right now, you considered you had a good working relationship with both Peña and Murphy – you knew they had your back and they knew you had theirs. Work flowed smoothly after that but it sadly didn’t help much – Escobar was gaining more strength and more support by the hour. It seemed hopeless but well, that had never stopped you three.

Sipping your coffee slowly, trying to draw out the pleasant feeling of caffeine flowing through you, your gaze flitted about the office, occasionally landing on your partners, both immersed in police reports. It finally landed on the one on your right – Peña – and you wondered…

What did compañera mean?

~~~

“Vamos, compañera!” (Come on, partner!)

You were sprinting through the streets of Medellín, bulletproof vest on and gun out, chasing La Quica, one of Escobar’s top sicarios, and another one of the drug trafficker’s men, who wasn’t as important but still probably knew valuable information. Javier was running about 10 meters ahead of you.

“Right behind you!” you shouted back at him, willing yourself to go faster up the hill.

Suddenly La Quica swerved to the left into a narrow alleyway and the other goon went the opposite direction, climbing onto a rooftop. Peña immediately followed the sicario which meant you were climbing rooftops.

Fucking great.

For a chubby guy, the motherfucker sure climbed fast. Even though you didn’t hesitate, you stumbled a couple of times due to the structures being unstable and littered with trash. You sneaked a peek at the rooftops ahead and there was one that was on a taller building but there was a ladder down to a secluded alleyway you suspected led out of the block. The goon didn’t strike you as the smartest and you prayed to God he would be as idiotic as you hoped.

You stopped running and pulled out your gun, aiming at the man, when he turned his head around briefly and saw that you had halted. He laughed and shouted something in Spanish.

“Yeah, keep laughing, motherfucker,” you murmured under your breath. You saw that he was going to turn around again and you pretended to be tired and put your hands on your knees, while still keeping an eye on him. As soon as he saw that, he started climbing the wall you had predicted he would go for. You rose quickly and aimed your gun.

Son of a bitch went down like a bird.

You ran quickly to the place he fell and thankfully, he was still on the ground, clutching his bleeding knee. He was going to be fine, the wound wasn’t fatal, but he was screaming as if his leg was torn off. You unhooked your handcuffs from your belt and pulled him up with great effort while he still whined like he was dying.

“Shut the fuck up, culo (ass)!” you barked at him and shoved him forward.

Murphy was waiting for you back at the busted lab, his hands on his hips. You could see yourself leading Escobar’s man reflected in his sunglasses. You couldn’t lie to yourself – you liked the sight.

Steve nodded at you respectfully. Looking around, he asked, “Where’s Peña?”

“I don’t know, we got separated. He went after La Quica.”

As if summoned, the man in question slowly walked down the hill.

Alone.

You sighed in disappointment, yet again having come this close at catching one of Pablo Escobar’s top men. One of Carrillo’s officers passed by and you handed your prisoner off to him and gave him orders what to do. Peña had reached Murphy in the meantime and the two were talking, the former clearly frustrated, annoyed and disappointed at the same time. You quickly sent the officer off, not wanting to miss any kind of debrief.

When you came close to them, Javier turned towards you, his eyes filled with exhaustion. You were overcome with the need to comfort him somehow but you kept your hands to yourself, knowing that it wouldn’t really help. Once you got in your head about guilt, there was no getting out, no matter what anyone said.

“You got Alvarez?” he asked.

You simply nodded in reply.

The corners of his lips quirked and if you hadn't already been gazing at his mouth, you wouldn't have noticed it.

(Javier Peña was a damn handsome man and you were still a woman who had eyes, for pity's sake.)

He squeezed your arm and murmured tiredly, but sincerely: "Good work, compañera."

You turned around to watch him walk away and you couldn't figure out whether to feel proud, compassionate or disappointed.

~~~

Compañera had become a regular culprit in Javier Peña's day-to-day vernacular when it came to you.

Your Spanish had improved a bit, enough to say some simple sentences but not enough to be comfortable in a conversation with fluent speakers. You had noticed your partner's increased use of the word when referring to you, but you figured it meant something like partner or friend, supposing it was similar to the English word "companion", so you didn't really think about it much.

But then there were smirks. And winks. And it wasn't so difficult to pretend your partner wasn't using his wily charms on you to get you in bed for a night like his informants.

Now, you had the dignity to admit to yourself that yes, you may have had some inappropriate and very unprofessional dreams about said partner and perhaps sometimes your mind would wander off during meetings when he wore a shirt with a very deep neckline and maybe from time to time your gaze would accidentally land on his ass, but you were partners and Javier had a certain reputation with women you didn't exactly want to experience first-hand.

Damned if it wasn't difficult to keep your hands off him, though.

"Morning coffee, compañera."

Speak of the devil.

You lifted your head from the report you were typing just in time to see Javier place a steaming mug of coffee on your desk and hit you with the signature smirk and wink before he went over to the map of Medellín on the wall. You didn't even have time to react or say anything before you heard the Colombian officers nearby snickering. You glared at them and they quickly shut their mouths and went back to work. They were smart enough not to say anything in front of you since the time they saw you take down a guy twice your size with your bare hands, but apparently not smart enough to know when to keep their mouths shut.

Still, it could’ve been much worse.

You returned to typing up your report, pausing for a moment to gather your thoughts. In your concentration, you didn't notice Javier looking over at you and then the Colombian cops. He said something to Murphy who was also observing what was happening, and then slowly walked to the center of the room and put his hands on his hips. Peña made sure he caught the eye of every officer who laughed.

"Oh, this is gonna be good," Murphy murmured to himself.

"Escuchen," Javier began with a low voice, laced with a dangerous undertone, "Si a ustedes, hijos de puta, les gusta reírse tanto, ¿por qué no le dicen a Carrillo que no pudieron encontrar una mierda durante semanas hasta que Y/L/N nos consiguió información?" (Listen up. If you motherfuckers like to laugh so much, why don’t you tell Carrillo you couldn’t find shit for weeks until Y/L/N got us information?)

You looked up at the sound of Javier's voice, understanding almost nothing of what he said but perfectly knowing what his tone meant.

"¿Claro?" (Clear?)

The cops all replied in unison, "Claro."

Javier waited for them to go back to what they were doing before and then his gaze shifted to you, checking to see if you were alright. You smiled at him softly and mouthed Thank you to which he nodded and smiled in return. He walked back to Murphy who had an unreadable expression on his face but the humorous glint in his eyes was unmistakable. You shook your head at him and Steve put his hands up in mock surrender before continuing his conversation with Javier.

Sighing, you went back to work, resigned to the fact that Javier Peña was making it very difficult for you to resist him.

~~~

Time passed, Escobar was still being a pain in the ass and the DEA had gotten almost nowhere with the investigation. Carrillo and his men were a great help but you couldn’t always agree with his methods, even though your partners and you had agreed: all in.

Lately, you, Murphy and Peña were spending more and more time at the office than out in the field, doing surveillance and analyzing potential leads and tips. The situation was too quiet and you didn’t like it; you had the gut feeling that something big was about to go down. The work at the office was slow and tedious, so often there would be tension arising due to agents and cops getting restless, but you were handling it well without complaint, even though your fingers were itching to go out and nail one of Escobar’s guys.

You were in the middle of transcribing a phone call between two of Pablo’s watchers when Steve perched on your desk and folded his hands in his lap.

“So what’s the deal with you and Peña?”

You looked up, confused, “What?”

“You and Peña,” he continued, “The whole compañera thing, you two ogling each other, that kinda shit.”

It was true that things had been getting a bit more… flirty between you and Javier. He was relentless with his teasing and you started teasing back, thinking it was harmless and just banter; a small reprieve from the heavy work you were doing every day. You didn’t think people really paid attention to it but apparently you were wrong.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Murphy? There’s nothing going on between me and him. And what do you mean ‘the whole compañera thing’?”

Steve chuckled. “You don’t know what that means?”

“I thought it meant ‘partner’.”

“Well, it can mean that but it can also mean ‘girlfriend’. And Peña’s been using it a lot when talkin’ to you, which people have noticed. And he hasn’t exactly done anything to shut down the rumors whenever someone makes a comment in front of him.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “All of you are being idiotic. I’m sure he means it like ‘partner’ and if he doesn’t, that doesn’t matter. You can calm down.”

“I’m calm, I’m calm,” Steve replied humorously, “I’m sure his informants are jealous, though. Be careful not to steal their thunder.”

You chuckled in spite of yourself and flipped Murphy off which made him laugh in return. He hit your arm lightly as a goodbye and went back to his own desk and you put your headphones back on to continue transcribing.

Javier was watching the whole display with curiosity, unable to really hear what the two of you talked about but he thought he heard his name a couple of times. He found himself smiling when you laughed but quickly sobered when Murphy turned around and pretended to think before writing something down in his notes.

~~~

When you and Javier shared your first kiss, it really wasn’t a good occasion.

The DEA had gotten a telephone tip about one of Escobar’s labs that was soon to be dismantled. The coordinates given were deep in the jungle and you had to leave quickly unless you wanted the trail to go cold. Carrillo had quickly assembled a hundred of his men and a convoy, while you and your partners suited up and got last-minute orders from your superiors. The raid was successful: you had managed to catch the workers still in the lab and there were minimal casualties on your side. The same couldn’t be said about Escobar’s men, but you did capture a few prisoners alive, which relieved you since you desperately needed inside information about the leader of the Medellín Cartel.

You really wanted to nail that son of a bitch.

The prisoners were lined up in front of the lab, their hands intertwined on their heads on the order of Colonel Carrillo. He was pacing back and forth in front of them, while you, Javier and Steve were in the back, observing.

“Caballeros,” Carrillo began, “Tienen que darse cuenta de la gravedad de la situación en la que se encuentran. Su patrón no se preocupa por ustedes. Si lo hiciera, estaría aquí y moriría con usted. Así que, será mejor que piense cuidadosamente lo que va a hacer a continuación.” (Gentlemen, you need to realize the gravity of the situation you're in. Your boss doesn't care about you. If he did, he'd be here and he'd die with you. So, you better think carefully what you're going to do next.)

“Si alguien me dice dónde se esconde Pablo Escobar como una rata, puedo facilitarte la vida en la cárcel. Tú me ayudas, yo te ayudo.” (If someone tells me where Pablo Escobar is hiding like a rat, I can make your life easier in jail. You help me, I help you.)

Javier was quietly translating to you and Murphy what the Colonel was saying, for which you were grateful since you understood about half of the words and couldn’t really get the whole picture. There was a moment of silence once Carrillo stopped speaking, some of the men looking at each other, unsure of what to do and say. You saw a lot of terrified faces but also ones that didn’t give a shit. One of latter ones, by far the youngest, a kid that probably wasn’t even 18 years old, spoke up.

“Come mierda, hijo de puta.” (Eat shit, you son of a bitch.)

That you understood perfectly without the help of Javier.

Carrillo went to stand in front of the young boy and leveled him with a cold stare. He nodded at the kid, who didn’t back down.

The Colonel crouched in front of him. “¿Es así como va a ser?” (Is that how it’s going to be?)

The boy spit in his face in reply and your stomach churned. You had a bad feeling about this.

“Muy bien.” (Very well.)

It all happened so quickly that if you had blinked, you would’ve spared yourself the sight.

Carrillo wiped the spit from his cheek and quickly stood up before putting a bullet right in-between the kid’s eyes. You looked away and clenched your jaw so tightly, you thought you’d break a tooth. Javier was looking at the ground, his hands gripping his hips so hard, his knuckles were white, while Steve looked everywhere but at the boy’s corpse on the ground, surrounded by an expanding pool of blood, and breathed heavily

.“¡Esto es lo que pasa cuando proteges a tu querido patrón! Mejor repensar tu estrategia en el viaje a la base o terminarás como él,” (This is what happens when you protect your dear boss! You better rethink your strategy on the way to the base or you'll end up just like him.) Carrillo shouted at the prisoners before ordering his second-in-command to load them up in the trucks.

You didn’t look at the Colonel when he passed by the three of you and urged you to get a move on. The bile in your throat rose when you glanced at the kid on the ground who was probably either going to get left behind there as a warning to Escobar, or they were going to bury him somewhere no one would find for years and his family would be none the wiser. You managed to keep your lunch down but only barely, before you quickly made your way to Javier’s truck, unable to stay in that place any longer. Peña and Murphy followed closely behind and none of you said a word aloud on the way back to base.

After a seemingly endless string of meetings, it was decided that the prisoners would be left to stew for a night in the cells of the police station under heavy guard before taking off for interrogation the next day at an undisclosed location which was going to be personally conducted by Colonel Carrillo. You had a pretty good idea what that interrogation would be like, so you volunteered to stay behind and take care of the paperwork for the raid. You knew you had agreed to being all in but this was another level of insanity you weren’t sure you signed up for. Yes, in your short time in Colombia, you had done many things you weren’t proud of, things that can never be on paper and that superiors would close their eyes to or just pretend they never happened. Many times they wouldn’t even know about them. But killing kids in cold blood? You couldn’t stomach that or justify it. All of you had one goal but this was going too far.

Still, it wasn’t your place to say anything and you knew that there was a war brewing and that the ‘good guys’ had to play by the ‘bad guys’’ rules if they wanted to win.

It was well after midnight and the office was empty which you were immensely grateful for, because that meant you could take out the hidden bottle of whiskey out of your drawer and pour yourself generous amounts multiple times. If you smoked, you would’ve gone through a packet of cigarettes already, but you didn’t really pick up the habit, even though everyone around you smoked practically every minute of the day.

The young boy’s face wouldn’t leave your mind. You had seen it on officers during meetings and debriefs after the raid and had to shake yourself out of it before you did something stupid. But now, you were alone, just you and your bottle of whiskey, and you let the silent tears, threatening to spill for hours, stream down your face. You felt dirty and guilty, and you wanted to scream and break things, and cry until your voice was hoarse. You couldn’t do any of those things, of course, you still had a job to finish, but you desperately needed to forget what happened somehow and the whiskey wasn’t working as well as you’d hoped.

“Still here, compañera?”

You quickly wiped the tears off your cheeks, fully knowing it wouldn’t hide the fact that you were crying, before turning around in your seat. Javier was leaning against the doorway, his hair mussed and his eyes exhausted and drooping. His gaze flitted across your face and body, taking in your disheveled state. Pity was clearly written all over his face, but there was an understanding there that somehow made you feel a bit better that you weren't alone in how you felt.

"Yeah," you answered quietly, your voice hoarse from the alcohol and being silent for hours.

Your partner nodded and started walking towards you, dragging one of the chairs with him on the way. He placed it next to you and pulled up his pants before sitting down.

"Got a glass for me?"

You were silent and unmoving for a moment, trying to appraise him. You didn't find anything you didn't like – his face was as open and as vulnerable as yours, so you reached into your bottom cabinet and pulled out your spare glass. You poured him the same amount of whiskey you had and handed it to him. He clinked his glass to yours and both of you downed the alcohol in one gulp. It seemed that you weren't the only one who was trying to forget.

"Can I ask you something, Javi?"

"Of course."

"Does it get easier? At all? Or do you get used to it?"

You couldn't keep the tremor off your voice no matter how hard you tried to appear strong in front of him. You hated showing weakness; those moments were usually reserved for when you were alone at home where you could privately process all your feelings and then move on the next day as if nothing had happened. You didn't plan for Javier seeing you like this, ever, but this man always found a way to somehow fuck up your plans.

The strangest part was that you didn't mind.

Javier sighed. He leaned his elbows on his knees and looked at the ground for a couple of moments, as if he was contemplating whether to lie to you and comfort you or tell you the truth. You waited patiently until he looked up at you with glossy eyes.

"If I ever find out the answer to these questions, you'll be the first to know," your partner finally said, his voice cracking at the end. You nodded slowly; you figured you weren't going to be happy with his answer but you found comfort in the fact that he had basically told you that he struggled every time, same as you. Javier seemed to gouge something in your expression - his larger hand suddenly closed tentatively around yours, the warmth seeping from his skin travelling all the way from your fingers to your heart. You fixed him with an intense gaze and saw it mirrored in his own dark eyes. A sort of unspoken understanding and agreement passed between the two of you: there were a lot of ways to forget and the two of you could help each other.

You surged forward simultaneously. You tasted whiskey and nicotine on his lush lips and it was as intoxicating as you had imagined. You rose from your seat and settled yourself in his lap, his arms immediately snaking around your waist while yours tangled in his hair. You ground your hips down, which made Javier tighten his grip and lower his hands towards your ass, making you moan into his mouth and offering his tongue a perfect entrance. You forced yourself to pull away but not completely; just enough to lean your forehead against his and your lips to brush tantalizingly while you spoke.

"My place is closer," you whispered.

Javier looked up at you, "You sure?"

You simply kissed him in reply before standing up and grabbing his hand to lead him out of the base and into your home.

~~~

Needless to say, your night with Javier had been unforgettable.

The despair and intense desire to forget the harrowing events of that day in both of you had made the sex intense and exactly what you both needed at that moment. You worked off your frustrations, letting yourselves express your feelings physically and the payoff was worth it.

It seemed that Peña’s reputation with the fairer sex was well-deserved.

It had been an unspoken agreement that this was just to forget, just to deal with all the jumbled thoughts and complicated feelings that came with the job and it was that at first but then afterwards Javier had become oh so gentle, his touches feather-light and his kisses soft and sweet and you had completely melted in his arms. You couldn’t help yourself – you felt safe and more dangerous than that – loved, which was something that you were careful not to feel for months while working with him, careful not to fall for his charm, not to become another one of his conquests, just another woman in the list.

But then he nuzzled your neck and wrapped his arms around you protectively and you found yourself too tired to continue that train of thought, so you put your hands on top of his and closed your eyes.

You hadn’t expected him to stay – you fully expected for him to be gone in the morning, no trace left of him even being there – but he did. You woke up in his arms by his kisses and with an intensity that could break your heart, you realized you hadn’t felt this happy in a long time.

You didn’t get up right away, instead shifting your position so you were half-laying on him, your head on his shoulder and him on his back with his arm around your waist.

“Javi?”

“Mm?” he murmured in your hair, stroking your bare waist gently.

You stayed silent for a minute to fully absorb the moment, appreciate his warmth and his breath softly blowing on top of your head and you willed the uneasy feeling in your stomach to go away, because this was good.

“Why do you always call me compañera?”

He chuckled and you found you liked feeling the vibrations of his chest when he did.

“Because you are that to me, compañera.”

“In what sense?”

You felt him pull away from your hair and you looked up at him, resting your chin on his shoulder. He was smiling but there was a confused expression on his face.

“What I want to know is…” you began, “What do you mean when you call me that?”

His eyebrows rose in surprise before he quickly covered it up with a smirk and you knew immediately that he was going to dodge the question.

“It can mean whatever you want it to mean.”

“Not what I asked, Peña,” you quickly countered. He smiled approvingly at that and you were slightly surprised to see he had a proud glint in his eyes. “I’m serious, now, c’mon.”

“And I meant what I said,” he replied with that low voice he used the night before and shifted, so he was on top of you, kissing you passionately and you completely forgot about talking.

Then you’d made breakfast, eaten with him, joked with him; it was as if this was the way your relationship had always been, like he belonged in your home and in your arms. It was bittersweet – you still waited for the other penny to drop. It was too easy and in your experience, nothing was ever that easy. Still, you kissed him goodbye and smiled at him, see you Mondays were exchanged and that was that.

The other penny dropped when said Monday came.

You knew you had to be careful at work – no one could know what you and Javier had gotten up to; fraternizing between agents was frowned upon, especially in such a high-profile and very dangerous operation as yours. It was clear to you that you were going to act as always and you had to watch your attitude towards Javier. Therefore, you went about your usual routine: you checked with security, showed them your badge, greeted the Colombian officers you knew and walked into the office with a small smile, where you found both of you partners already sitting at their desks, told them Good morning and you waited for Murphy to lift up his hand and say Morning, Y/L/N and Javier to look up at you with a grin and reply with the usual Buenos días, compañera. Sure enough, Steve did exactly as you predicted.

Except… Javier didn’t even look up from the files he was reading.

You walked over to your desk, sneaking a glance at him, but still, he didn’t even move a muscle and that uneasiness in your stomach from the night you were together was back with a vengeance. He’s probably just trying to be conspicuous or he’s just very concentrated, you thought to yourself and set your things on your desk, trying to keep a poker face. That was probably the case, so you focused on your tasks.

But then he didn’t even glance at you the whole day.

It was another day of work, consisting of surveillance and typing up reports, so you were trapped in your small office together and Javier’s interactions with you were strictly limited to him passing you documents wordlessly and discussing intel in a very professional manner. No jokes, no smirks, no compañera, no winks, nothing.

If he was trying not to raise suspicions about the two of you fucking, he was doing a piss-poor job.

You got increasingly frustrated with the hours passing by but you followed his lead and said nothing. If he was going to be like that, then two could play that game. You were too annoyed at him to stop and think that this childish behavior was even more telling that something happened between you to your other colleagues, since everyone had gotten used to the banter that you two frequently engaged in. Around 5 in the evening he got a call, looked at his watch and said Estaré allí en 20 minutos (I’ll be there in 20 minutes.) and you understood enough Spanish by now to know that he was most definitely going to go visit one of his favorite “informants”, which made your blood boil. The pressure you were applying with your pen on the report you were writing, while you watched Peña put on his jacket and put his gun in his pants, became so high that you almost made a hole in the paper.

“Where’re you goin’?” Murphy asked, “El burdel?” (The brothel?)

Your lips thinned in anger but you willed yourself to keep writing and not show any reaction.

“Fuck off, Murphy,” Javier replied, annoyance clear in his voice. “I’m done for the day. Goodnight.”

As soon as he walked out and you were sure Steve had gone back to work, you let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding as quietly as possible and tried to hold back the tears of anger burning behind your eyes.

~~~

This bullshit continued for two weeks.

Javier kept on ignoring you as best as he could and you did the same: angry at him that he was behaving this way after being the complete opposite when you were together in your home, but even angrier at yourself for breaking your vow not to fall for his wiles. He never cared about you – you were just another woman in his bed for a night, just another conquest he used to get over his own feelings and then thrown away and forgotten about.

It was your own damn fault and that was the worst thing about the whole fiasco.

“Y/L/N, do you have a minute?”

You were sipping your morning coffee (that you had gotten for yourself) when Steve approached your desk. His hands were on his hips and his expression was serious, so you quickly put down your cup of coffee and wiped your hands on your pants.

“Sure,” you replied and followed Murphy out of the office.

He led you to the evidence room, which was too small of a space to house the thousands of police reports, evidence, photos and whatnot, which made the air inside stale and difficult to breathe, so it wasn’t advised for any living thing to remain there for long. You thought you were going to help your partner search for something, but then he closed the door behind you and fixed you with an unimpressed look. You waited for him to say something, his gaze unnerving you, until you got frustrated and spoke first.

“What do you want, Murphy?”

He sighed and shook his head before crossing his arms and coming closer to you, so he could speak more quietly.

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you and Peña and frankly, I don’t wanna know. It ain’t my business to pry into your personal lives but it is my business when it affects our work.”

You opened your mouth to say something rude to him, already annoyed by the direction the conversation was going, but he quickly cut you off.

“You know damn well what I’m talkin’ about, so don’t give me any bullshit. You’re not fucking teenagers to act like this. This whole silent treatment is making us lose valuable time we could use to catch Escobar and people are starting to notice, which I’m sure neither you nor Peña want that. So you two better kiss and make up fast or this task force is going to shit.”

You didn’t say anything; you knew he was right and you felt ashamed that you were acting so childishly and possibly endangering the operation. Your personal problems couldn’t affect the trust you needed out in the field and you needed to resolve this as quickly as possible, for the good of everyone.

You stayed silent but nodded at Steve, who squeezed your shoulder before leaving the room. Sighing, you leaned your back on one of the shelves with evidence. You resolved to corner Javier after work so you could talk in private and fix this one way or another, so you could avoid any one of you going back to the US.

Later, when the sun had long gone down, you glanced at your watch impatiently. You had done your tasks for the day and you were free to go but you were trying to gauge when Javier would decide to go home, so you could pull him aside to talk. Steve had left a while ago, having promised his wife a long-awaited date night, but not without shooting you a warning look and subtly tilting his head towards Peña. You had simply waved your hand in reply and said goodbye.

Finally, Javier started gathering his things, so you took your cue to put your jacket on and lean against your desk. You waited for him to be done before you spoke.

“Javi, we need to talk.”

He quickly looked up at you at the sound of finality in your tone. You met his gaze and hoped he saw that there was no getting out of this because you weren’t backing down this time.

“Okay,” he replied, folding his arms across his chest, “what’s up?”

“Not here. Come on, I’ll make you some coffee at home.”

Javier hesitated at the mention of your apartment, this whole situation reminding him too much of the last time he was there. You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna seduce you or anything. We really need to talk.”

He nodded at that and followed you wordlessly.

The drive to your apartment was as quiet as you expected, Javier focused on the road and you looking out the window. There were still kids playing in the streets, their mothers calling them to go back home but they pretended not to hear them. Some shady characters also hung around but it wasn’t your job to assess them, so you let yourself take in Medellín during the night just as a spectator.

The car stopped, so you took your bag and went out to go unlock the front door, while Javier put the handbrake on and turned off the ignition. You walked in and hung your jacket on the hanger near the door before tossing your purse on the floor. You waited for Javier to come in, who walked slowly and unsurely, his hands in his pockets – a sign that he was nervous.

He sat silently at the kitchen island while you made two cups of coffee, yours with a little bit of sugar and milk, while leaving his black, just the way he liked it. You handed him his mug, to which he murmured a quiet thanks.

“So…” you began unsurely.

“So…” he mimicked, keeping his hands wrapped around the hot cup.

You sighed in resignation; it was clear that you had to lead this difficult conversation, seeing as how Javier was closed off even now.

“This silence isn’t helping anyone, Javier. Not you, not me, not Steve or any of our colleagues for that matter. We can’t work together like this.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he nodded. You waited for him to continue but he stayed silent. He was still going to be like this? Even now, when you were trying to resolve this?

The familiar anger that had become associated especially with one Javier Peña bubbled up and this time, you didn’t hold back.

“That’s it? ‘You’re right’? That’s all you have to say to me? After all we’ve been through together and a one night stand makes you pretend none of it happened?” Your voice rose in octaves with each sentence, all of your bottled up feelings for the past few weeks coming to the surface.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?”

The annoyance in his voice was the last straw.

“Anything! Anything at all! I deserve at least that little respect from you as your partner. The least you could do is tell me that it was a one-time thing; that I was just one of the many putas you slept with, so we could move on with our lives. At least like that I’d have closure and we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“You’re not like that, Y/N.” Javier now had stood up and you realized that in your anger you had circled the kitchen island and you were standing in front of him, crowding his personal space.

“Aren’t I that, huh? Didn’t you go and fuck another one two days after me?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“The Monday after we had sex. You took a call and immediately left, not even bothering to deny it to Murphy.”

“I was going to meet with an informant, I wasn’t going to the fucking brothel!”

You chuckled humorlessly, “Yeah, we all know about your ‘informants’.”

“It wasn’t like that, Y/N!” Javier was properly rivaling the intensity of your anger now, his voice matching your volume. “I got a tip from one of Escobar’s watchers, the kid was afraid someone would find out and get killed, especially after Carrillo—“

He stopped himself suddenly, not wanting to bring up the very thing that the two of you wanted desperately to forget and that led to this whole mess. You stepped back, the dead kid’s face immediately clouding your vision, but you shook your head and didn’t let yourself get sidetracked. You knew he wasn’t lying but that didn’t mean it made things okay.

“Fine then, why didn’t you say anything? Why did you pretend you didn’t even know me after that?”

“Because I was fucking terrified!” Javier shouted. Both of you breathed heavily, the air in the room charged with electricity.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Terrified of what?”

Javier rubbed his eyes in frustration before putting his hands on his hips and looking at you dead in the eye, his gaze wet.

“I didn’t plan on you, compañera,” he began but you cut him off quietly.

“Don’t… don’t call me that.”

Gulping, he continued, “It was harmless at first. I was joking around and you seemed like you didn’t mind and the job got a bit easier. But then… Then you had to go and be the kindest, smartest and most beautiful woman I’ve ever met and it wasn’t so harmless anymore. And after we—we were together, I panicked. I haven’t fallen for someone in years and I promised myself never to do that to a woman I cared about again. I haven’t slept with anyone after you. And I realized that I was way in too deep with you and I thought it’d be better if I just made you hate me, so we could spare ourselves the pain.”

Holy fuck.

Fuck.

Javier Peña had feelings for you.

You gulped and shook your head.

“That’s not your decision to make, Javi,” you said softly, your anger dissipating to a small simmer.

“I know, I realize that now and I’m sorry for doing that to you.”

Your eyes flooded with tears and you looked towards the ceiling in an effort to will them away. When you looked back down, Javier had stepped closer to you, his eyes just as tearful as yours. He extended his arms towards you hesitantly and you readily stepped into his embrace, hugging him tightly. He buried his face in your neck and placed a kiss on your pulse.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated in a whisper.

“You can’t do that to me again. I won’t—I won’t be able to handle that.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

You pulled back and put your hands on his cheeks, thumbs stroking gently his skin.

“What are we gonna do?” you whispered.

“I… Maybe we can see where this goes. If you’re willing to try again with me?”

God, his warm brown eyes were so vulnerable and he was so nervous that you’d say no that you swear your heart broke for him then and there. You took a deep breath.

“We’ll have to keep it quiet. Otherwise, I’m probably gonna get shipped back on the next plane back to D.C. And no more shutting me out, Javi. This won’t work if you’re not willing to talk to me.”

“You’re right. I swear I’ll try for you, compañera.”

Your breath escaped your lips in a small chuckle and you shook your head before pressing your lips gently to his. He held you like a man lost in a desert, just discovering an oasis and you clutched his shoulders, as if afraid that he was going to disappear.

You tasted salt on his lips but you didn’t know if it was from your tears or his.

~~~

“So what did you mean when you first started calling me compañera?”

Javi chuckled and put his beer down on the table. He tightened his grip on you and placed a kiss on your shoulder.

You were sitting in Javier’s lap at the balcony of your apartment, enjoying one of your days off. The weather was absolutely perfect, the Medellín sun warming your face and the slight breeze providing a much needed cool-down from time to time.

You looked back at him with a grin, “You never did answer me.”

“Well,” he began, “It was partner at first. You had definitely proven yourself in my eyes and had an impressive record so I had respect for you. Then, I guess it kinda morphed into friend. You were always there when I needed you and you had my back when I was in a tight spot. Then, one day, you came to work with your hair down and I had an ‘oh shit’ moment.”

You laughed out loud. “Really? Me with my hair down made you realize you had feelings for me?”

“Shh, don’t interrupt me now, mi amor. So, yeah, at that point the rumors started that I was using compañera in its meaning for girlfriend and was deliberately doing that like a code or something, so people would get confused.”

“And yet you didn’t deny any of it.”

He smirked. “No, I guess I didn’t.”

You shook your head at his antics and turned around in his lap, now fully facing him.

“Eres un idiota,” (You’re an idiot.) you whispered against his lips before kissing him. You felt him smile and couldn’t help but smile, too, effectively ruining your kiss.

“Pero soy tu idiota,” (I’m your idiot, though.) Javi said, pecking your nose. You gazed at the man you loved so much, you’d lay down your life for him, admiring the way his disheveled hair tousled in the wind and the way his eyes shone in the sun. You found that there was no better sight in the world and you smiled softly.

“Yeah, I guess you are.”

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x oc #javier peña x you #narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x oc #the mandalorian

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theuniversekidssuau · 3 years

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Garnet’s Rooms

The twins came home from a run they were trying to take every day. Sophie had a vision that they needed to be out a little longer than normal, but had an urge to ignore it. She didn't though, since ignoring her visions could hurt. So by the time they got home, both of the older siblings were in the temple. The gems were worried and tried to keep the kids from the door, but Sophie ran passed her guardians and held her hand to the door. The blue gem in the star lit up and a snowflake appeared on the door and the center became a hole into a white snow-scape. Sophie stepped through the hole and into Sapphire's room. Robbie ran to the door but couldn't make it before it closed. He put his hand to the door and nothing happened, so he kept trying, and eventually, the red stone lit and the door melted away as fire rose from the floor. He ducked through the opening and soon, he too, was gone. The gems were flabbergasted, but soon Steven popped out of the brightly lit door. They sat and waited for the others to come out.

Inside the temple, Sophie drudged through the snow leaning oddly to the left. She walked for what felt like hours in the vast nothingness, glad that the cold did not affect her as much. There were no trees, no stones, no rivers, nothing you would find in a livable area. It also seemed infinite, which made sense since she was inside the temple. As she walked though, the temperature got warmer, only marginally at first, but eventually, it became warm enough that she didn't have to summon warmer clothes. The snow started to thin out, and she was quickly walking through mere inches on a stony or frozen surface. She soon came to a patch of grass in the snow and a clear wall, that bordered a desert.

Robbie found himself in a similar situation, but on the desert side, listing right. He too walked for hours in the barren land. No cacti or rocks jutted out of the sand, there was no water to be seen. which alarmed him a little as he was getting thirsty, but he kept going. The sheer vastness of the room began to confuse him, until he remembered he was in the temple and the magics there could warp reality. At least the heat wasn't bothering him, just the dryness of his location. In fact it was starting to cool off, and before long he had summoned a light jacket. He eventually joins his sister at the oasis, running full bore into the barrier before ever realizing it was there.

Thankfully sound could pass through the wall, as Sophie explains her experience to her dizzy twin. They start feeling along the wall hoping to find the top or a door, and their gems ended up on top of each other's. A deep reddish purple light radiated from their touched gems and soon they were holding hands, the wall rapidly retreating in a faint glow. The grassy patch underneath them grew to replace the previous two rooms, and became a lush jungle, with a lake. A few trees formed a grotto, but instead of more jungle there was a door, that looked like it went into the burning room. A voice rang out. Calling to them leading them to the edge of a cave by the lake. A screen came up out of nowhere, possibly gem technology, with an image of Garnet on it.

"Sophia, Robert, I'm glad you were able to make it here, I know you haven't fused yet, not properly, but your closeness allowed you access to my, our sanctuary. This room is a near perfect replica of the jungle that Ruby and Sapphire found themselves in when they first met. That's a story for another day, this recording, the device is in the rock directly below the screen, will tell you on your next birthday. But if you've made it here, you're close to the day you'll fuse, it's very close. It's not for a good thing either, bad things are coming, please double up on whatever training videos you can, you and your siblings will need it. I wish i could hug you two right now, and I know that when you see this you'll want to too. I'm leaving training videos specific to you and your fusion, in here, feel free to visit often. But you have to leave, go through the door to the burning room and leave back into the temple, this room does not exit directly into the temple, I helped program the room this way. Go now, everyone is worried."

The two did as their mother told and left through the burning room. Once in the house, they were quickly pummeled by their family. Enveloped in a very tight Spinel hug, the Twins listened to what happened while they were out, Steven and Page told the stories of what happened in their rooms, Page saying she was trained by her mother for a few hours on how to use her gem storage, and Steven explaining how the room makes stuff out of clouds. The twins explained that their moms' room were opposites and desolate places with a small oasis on one side, there was a door to the burning room. They felt no need to explain that garnet had a room or that it wasn't the burning room itself, just yet. It was late and so everyone ate a meal together and the kids all went to bed.

#alternative universe #au #steven universe #ask me what's next #crystal gems #ruby #sapphire #garnet

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nadziejastar · 5 years

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Poppet…? Apparently, that meant Xion. But what resemblance was he referring to? Xion was just as much a puppet as ever.

Saïx had no time for all these deliberately oblique remarks from Xigbar. “Nonsense. I see no problem whatsoever.”

Xigbar only laughed louder. “Pa-ha-ha! No, apparently you don’t!”

“Something you find amusing?”

“Oh, the things you hear from a guy with no heart,” Xigbar said through his hilarity.

Yes, I couldn’t agree more. I recently saw a forum topic about KH3 that said Saïx was just a one-dimensional asshole for no reason in Days and it made me kinda sad. I think he had a LOT of depth to his character---it just wasn’t actually explored (like so many other things). I already did posts on Axel and Zexion. I’ve been meaning to write a post about what losing his heart at a young age did to Saïx. He and Xigbar had a very interesting relationship which I was really excited to learn more about. But it looks like we probably won’t get that opportunity. It’s clear that Xigbar saw Saïx as nothing more than a helpless kid.

Day 117: Special Nobodies

Today it was me and Xigbar. Axel and Xion went out on their own mission. Xigbar told me that Xion and me are "exceptional"—you know, like, special Nobodies. Because we can use the Keyblade? Work dragged on late, so I didn't make it up to the clock tower. I wonder if Xion and Axel made it. Those pictures started flashing through my head again on the mission. The boy in red... What's it all about? Maybe when Xigbar called me "special" he meant "crazy"...Seriously, though, is Xion experiencing the same thing? It feels weird to ask.

Day 117 ~Secrets~ is about special Nobodies, the only Nobodies who can join the organization and remember who they were as humans. Xigbar and Roxas went to gather intel on Hercules. When Saïx told Axel he had to go back to Castle Oblivion, he was thinking that Nobodies have goals and are able to think. It seemed to be hinting that Saïx’s shared goal isn’t really with Axel, but with Xemnas---whether Saïx realized it or not.

Day 117: Him and Roxas

Author: Xigbar

Roxas is maturing at an impressive rate. His face, the way he handles the Keyblade, it's all exactly the same. The worlds seem so divided and alone, but there's always that steady thread there to connect them. And we Nobodies can never escape the things we did as humans. So it goes.

And Xigbar was remembering Ventus on this day. That’s one of his dark secrets.

Day 118: Vacation

Today was my first vacation ever. I didn’t know what to do with it. Axel said to do what I like, but all I like is having ice cream with my friends—so that’s what I ended up doing. Axel leaves tomorrow for some kind of mission. Which reminds me—I still haven’t given him the WINNER stick yet.

Before Axel left for Castle Oblivion, it was a day off. Specifically meaning NO WORK. It was called “Lazy Day”.

Day 118: You Changed, Not Me

Author: Axel

Talking to Roxas and Xion always brings back memories of my human life, back when I was a kid. It's a weird sensation.I ought to be able to share all this with Saïx, but I just don't feel like it anymore. It's strange, but I'm content with just missing what's gone. I'm not the one who changed. You did.

This is the day Axel mentioned his dark secrets. And he also mentioned Saïx had changed. If anything, I think Isa was the one who enjoyed lazing about doing nothing the most. He just liked relaxing and eating ice cream. He was probably the polar opposite of the harsh drill instructor that his Nobody is.

“What a pain,” Axel muttered, and he looked up at the ceiling.

I’ve been holed up here with nothing but dusks for company for a few days, and now I’m talking to myself. This castle, devoid of people, is under the control of subordinate Nobodies. Subordinate Nobodies follow orders loyally, but they can’t do any more than that. The biggest difference between them and Organisation member Nobodies is that we can think for ourselves… Well, I wonder what ‘thought’ is, anyway. What’s the connection between ‘thought’ and the heart?

“Argh this is such a pain…”

Axel scratched his head, and continued searching the castle.

Special Nobodies are also the only ones capable of independent thought. Axel was thinking about this while he was at Castle Oblivion. “Thought” has a connection to the heart.

Xemnas: Once born, the heart can also be nurtured. Our experiments creating Heartless were attempts to control the mind, and convince it to renounce its sense of self. But understand, one can banish the heart from the body, but the body will try to replace it the first chance it gets, for as many times as it takes.

The idea was probably that controlling the mind is the key to controlling the heart. If you can get the mind to renounce its sense of self, then there will be no way for the person to resist their heart being taken over.

Day 119: Something to Protect

Axel has been gone forever. It's been just me and Xion at the clock tower. While me and Xaldin explored Beast's Castle, we found something he wants to protect... Xaldin says that's a weakness, but I'm not so sure. What does it mean to care about something that much? I don't, so it's hard to wrap my head around the whole idea.

The day Xigbar teased Saïx while praising Xion was Day 119 ~Work to Do~. This is the day Axel left for Castle Oblivion. Xigbar and Roxas were gathering intel on Hercules on Day 117. Herc was also special and a potential candidate for the Organization.

Day 119: Hearts and Emotion

Author: Xaldin

Watching that foolish beast flail about only deepens my disdain for humans and their incessant need to be pinned down by feelings.We became Nobodies precisely to avoid the shackles of emotion. It was only later that we realized the scale of that loss: that some things simply cannot be done without a heart. Nonetheless, I see nary a pleasant thing about it.

Xaldin and Roxas had a mission to gather intel on the Beast. They found out his weakness which would make his heart a captive. Then Xaldin said their work was done.

He didn’t really understand the ‘reward’ part, except that it was ice cream. Like Winner, though, it meant something special. So when Axel came back, Roxas would use the freebie as a ‘reward’. Xion, eating ice cream beside him, swung her feet.

“You two are really close, aren’t you,” she said.

The first time Roxas treated Xion to ice cream, she said he and Axel were really close. Xion was swinging her feet.

“Oh, hey, I just remembered…” Axel idly kicked his dangling feet against the ledge. “Did you guys know you should be checking your ice cream sticks?”

“Well… it is winning after all, so it has to be something good, right?”

“Something good…?” Roxas asked.

“Hee hee hee…,” Xion laughed. Roxas and Axel looked at her. “The two of you are close, aren’t you?” she said, and then she looked out at the setting sun. “Such a pretty sunset…”

She also said it on Day 352 ~Sunset~, when the WINNER stick was brought up again, and Roxas and Xion almost killed each other. Axel was dangling his feet like a kid.

“Axel, Axel… you two are quite the pals, aren’t you? Wonder what you two whisper about,” Xigbar shot, jiggling his crossed leg.

“Now you’ve mentioned it, I wonder the same about you”, Saïx retorted, and the tension was so thick it was hard to breathe.

“We have but one objective,” said Xemnas. “Be sure to keep that in mind.”

And on Day 119, Xigbar said something similar about Axel and Saïx. And his leg was jiggling, too. Then Xemnas told them they have one objective and to keep it in mind. They are all Norts, after all.

Xemnas turned to Saïx. “Tell me your progress.”

“Our plans are proceeding as well as might be expected,” said Saïx. “Axel left for Castle Oblivion this morning.”

“Our little Poppet sure is a wonder,” Xigbar remarked, and a vicious smirk came to his face. “It’s a shame we don’t have Vexen around to follow her.”

“The Organization still has his technical expertise, as he notated and saved everything,” Saïx replied, utterly unfazed. “We’re not facing any difficulties in that regard.”

“And? When those difficulties do arise?” Xaldin, his arms folded from the start, regarded Saïx with disdain.

During this meeting, Xaldin and Xigbar were upset because they blamed Saïx for Vexen’s demise.

“Right, I forgot, the kid did it,” Xigbar echoed with a heavy dose of accusatory sarcasm.

Saïx ignored this and continued. “Axel will be searching Castle Oblivion for any clues as well.”

“Oh, so Axel’s on the case.” Xigbar crossed his legs and leaned his elbows on them.

Saïx let out a deep sigh, the first semblance of a reaction he’d given this entire meeting. “We have not confirmed what happened to any spare cloaks in the possession of the members who were stationed at Castle Oblivion. Axel will also be looking into that.”

Saïx refused to show any semblance of reaction in front of them. After this meeting he gave the order for Xion to capture Riku, and he started to become extremely harsh on her. Way more than usual.

“Lately it’s been rare that you would go out of your way to come to me, that’s what I mean.”

“I have something to ask you, for a change.”

“Hilarious,” said Saïx. He’s being sarcastic… Joking, in other words.

Saïx had made up his mind not to say such things in front of the other Organization members. It was something he could only be towards Axel, something special that could only have been born from the relationship Saïx and Axel had had as humans.

I found it interesting how his interaction later with Axel was similar to the meeting on Day 119. Unlike with the others, Saïx shows Axel the "joking” side of his personality. He can act in a way around him that he can’t with anyone else and it’s special.

“Is it about the failure?”

Axel shrugged. “Mind reader, are we?”

“It’s because you’re simple, see… That hasn’t changed.”

“Excuse me? Were you always such a jerk?” Axel retorted, taking a seat on a shelf across from Saïx.

“Don’t sit on that.”

“Then put another chair in here.” He let his legs swing, the way he would sit at the usual spot.

“Somehow, I doubt that would stop you,” said Saïx. “Anyway, I’m not going to talk to you about it.”

Axel is a “mind reader”, but in a benign way compared to Xemnas. And Axel was swinging his legs restlessly like a kid when he was with Saïx.

“Hey. She has a name, you know.”

“I told you to stay out of this.” Saïx swiveled his chair, turning his back on Axel to end the conversation.

Axel stared at the stubborn set of his shoulders. Both of them had changed.

“Wonder which one of us is more different now,” Axel said under his breath. Just for an instant, he saw a twitch in Saïx’s shoulders. But he wasn’t about to hold his breath for more. Axel showed himself out.

Axel would always try to appeal to Saïx by bringing up their past. Axel was trying to get Saïx to go easier on Xion and I thought it was interesting that he said she had a name.

Secret Report 1: Recollections

I could not even recall my name. I was simply called "X" there. My only solace was the time I spent talking with the two boys who would visit from time to time. One day, a man came to take me from the prison. I could not see him for the darkness, save that he wore an eyepatch.

I think Isa was Subject X and treated like a lab rat. And Subject X was definitely not called by their name. Subject X was treated like an “it” and an object. Specifically, a vessel. Nomura called Seekers of Darkness “raw material” for the X-Blade. It wouldn’t surprise me if Isa was literally called an “it”. I think Axel was probably aware of how Isa was treated to some degree and it really, really upset him. It’s why he didn’t care one bit about killing Vexen. Saïx also treats people as tools that are only worthy to live if they serve any use.

If you cannot wield the Keyblade to its purpose, you have no place in the Organization. Keep that in mind and make sure to eliminate Heartless with the Keyblade.”

“…I see. I’ll be more careful,” she replied.

It’s kind of creepy how Saïx would tell people to “keep it in mind”. Especially because Xemnas would always say that to him.

“You’d better. It’s part of your work,” said Saïx. “You know you need proper rest to carry out missions.”

“Sorry… I’ll find the impostor today.” Since two days ago, she’d been covering double ground, searching two worlds in one day. But she still hadn’t found any clues. Meanwhile, Saïx had no sympathy for her.

“You are to discover the identity of the outsider,” he told her. “Those are direct orders from Lord Xemnas. Failure is the same as insubordination. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Wha…?” Xion had no idea that Xemnas had chosen her for this mission. To the best of her knowledge, Saïx was the one in charge of assigning tasks.

“I assume I’ve made myself clear. Keep looking.” With that, Saïx turned his back on her and left. Xion stood alone in the vast lobby.

After that meeting he even brought up Xemnas to scare Xion.

Roxas stepped into a world he’d never been to before—Halloween Town, a strange shadowy world, with a fat, round moon hanging in the dark sky. Lamps burned faintly here and there, too, but they didn’t give nearly enough light to dispel the ominous gloom. “What a weird place…”

It was also empty. He didn’t see any of the world’s inhabitants. After a bit, he came to an open square and found an odd mechanism.

“What is this?” As Roxas peered up at it, something came hurtling down toward his face. “Whoa!”

What fell was a blade heavy enough to cleave someone in two.

“Geez, that thing’s dangerous… Why would they put it out here like this?” He looked askance at the device as bats fluttered overhead.

Day 149 is actually called “Unlike Minds”. This is the first day Roxas visits Halloween Town. I think Halloween Town is probably a thematic representation of the experiments on the darkness of the heart and the mind control experiments. Halloween Town is a graveyard (which is what Xigbar called the Chamber of Repose) that is based on the concept of terrifying people. There’s also a giant full moon in the sky.

Day 149: WINNER

Today’s mission took me to a new world. It was a weird place. I was up on the clock tower afterwards when Axel turned up after being away forever. He said he finished that long mission. But this time Xion didn’t show. I was gonna give Axel that WINNER stick, but I should wait until I get another one. It wouldn’t be fair to leave Xion out.

Axel comes back from Castle Oblivion on this very day.

Day 149: He’s the Sham

Author: Xion

That man wearing the Organization’s coat—that jerk! He’s too powerful. I can’t beat him unless I get stronger. And I’m not a sham. I’M NOT. He is. He’s the one pretending to be something he isn’t!

Xion loses to Riku and he calls her a sham, and a fake.

Today’s investigation took Axel to a world called Halloween Town. Roxas had been here a few days ago, too, but for Axel this was the first visit. Us Organization members should blend right in here, he thought in the unrelenting gloom.

Afterwards, Axel also gets sent to Halloween Town to look for Riku, and he thinks it suits the organization well.

Finkelstein: Interesting! So the puppet wasn't stolen after all! It ran away on its own! In other words, my experiment was an overwhelming success!

Sora: Santa Claus thinks maybe it left because it was trying to find a heart.

Finkelstein: That's quite possible. Unlike my Sally, it wasn't equipped with a heart.

Sora: But if it wanted a heart, why was it going around stealing all those Christmas presents?

Sally: Maybe because...presents are a way to give your heart to someone special.

I think Halloween Town was chosen as a world in Days for several reasons. In addition to fear, the story being built up involved experimentation and a puppet that wanted a heart.

Sora: Jack, it's not about the box or the ribbons. It's about what's inside the box!

Sally: No, Sora. What really counts---what's really special---is the act of giving the gift. To wish deep in your heart to make someone else happy.

On Day 149, Roxas was considering giving Axel the WINNER stick. When Roxas and Xion almost killed each other, it also happens in Halloween Town. And Roxas almost gave it to him again after that.

Jack: Oh, Sally! You've given me the nicest present in the world! And I've nothing to give you in return. What would you like? Just name it. Absolutely anything.

Sally: The nicest present I could ever ask for, Jack, is just to be with you.

I think the WINNER stick was something that Isa gave Lea as a human. And it pretty much was the equivalent of the presents the puppet was trying to steal. It isn’t objectively valuable, but it represents spending time together. It’s possible Isa gave that stick to Lea to thank him for everything, knowing that he wouldn’t live long enough to treat him to ice cream ever again in person.

Today he had to destroy Roxas. He couldn’t betray the Organisation. Axel took a white envelope from the small shelf by his pillow, and stared at it for a while. And then he put it in his pocket, got up, and left the room.

In the KH2 novel, Axel was looking at this stick when he decided he had to destroy Roxas.

It’s possible that this is the last time I’ll see Saïx, Axel thought, as he looked at Saïx, who was sitting down, from behind. “We’ve been going together a pretty long time, hey.” Saïx kept tapping at the keyboard, as if ignoring Axel. “Say something. Didn’t you think I can’t extinguish Roxas?” Axel said jokingly, and Saïx looked up. “It’s all right. 'cuz I’m strong.” “Saying stupid things,” said Saïx, smiling for just a second at Axel, pulling at his chest. “Hurry and prepare. Time is limited. The hero’s awakening is imminent. Transfer right before Roxas.”

After he made this decision, he tried to bond with Saïx, thinking it might be the last time he ever saw him again. Axel was obviously very sentimental about the WINNER stick long before Roxas gave one to him. Of course, he couldn’t actually destroy Roxas.

Halloween Town was a dismal place, full of gravestones. Xion stared helplessly up at its giant moon overhead. What am I supposed to do…?

Xion was in Halloween Town when she was looking for Riku on Day 150.

Day 150: Too Precious to Lose

Xion didn’t come to the clock tower again today. She and Saïx had some kind of argument. Axel and I talked for a while about the things we can’t bear to lose. Axel thinks that for Nobodies, it’s our pasts, because that’s all we have to remember the pain of losing something. I don’t remember my past, but the idea of losing the present—Axel or Xion—scares me.

Day 150 is called “Fear”. It involved being afraid of losing something precious.

Day 150: Dealing with Xion

Author: Saïx

As expected, the Duplicate is starting to show its limits. The Program showed promise, but a puppet is just a puppet: something to be toyed with until it breaks. I am utterly at a loss as to what Roxas and Axel see in that thing. How best to dispose of it merits my consideration going forward.

This is when Saïx calls Xion a failure and thinks she should be disposed of.

Day 171: What’s Love?

On my mission at Beast’s Castle, Xaldin told me about “love” and the special power it has over people. I tried to ask Axel about it, but his explanation didn’t make any sense to me. Every time I ask him about this kind of thing, he tells me I need a heart to understand. It’s like he’s dodging the questions.

On Day 171, Roxas learns about the power of love, which comes from the heart. Love is about protecting what’s most important to you.

Day 171: The No. i Project

Author: Saïx

Xion failed to complete its mission. If this continues, destroying it and using the next Replica as the Duplicate would undoubtedly yield a higher-grade copy. No. i was among the initial lot, which naturally raises questions about its capabilities. At present, it is nothing short of broken. I cannot fathom why Xemnas would want to keep it.

And Xion collapses on this day. Saïx thinks she’s totally broken and doesn’t know why Xemnas wants to keep her. There seems to be a parallel to Isa’s past with all of this. Isa was considered useless and broken, and he was probably going to be disposed of. Lea of course couldn’t bear that and wanted to protect him.

“The arrangements are all settled,” answered Saïx.

Xigbar snorted at him. “How do you see Xion?”

“What do you mean?” Vague words. A clear will is the only thing of any importance, Saïx was thinking.

Xigbar grinned in reply, and asked Xemnas this time. “It doesn’t matter if you get the meaning. What about you?” Xemnas looked at Xigbar. “Don’t you and me sometimes see eye to eye, as they say?” Xigbar said, shrugging, and Xemnas smiled. Is that a yes, or a no?

“Keep an eye on Roxas.” Without answering Xigbar, Xemnas made himself disappear.

“Yeah, do your best now.” Xigbar followed after. I wonder what on earth Xigbar was trying to say…

Saïx’s scar is on his mind’s eye. Xigbar and Xemnas see “eye to eye”. That is to say, they are of like mind. Saïx can’t see what they see. And the joke is that he can’t really “keep an eye” on Roxas, so to speak. He still has the same mind as they do, but he doesn’t realize it because his mind’s eye has been shut down.

Day 352: What I Must Do

Author: Xion

Riku gave me this time. Axel told me to spend it thinking for myself. The Organization is determined to erase either me or Roxas. They'll never allow us to coexist. I love Roxas and Axel. I'm sure Saïx would scoff at that. Call it a trick of my artificial memories. But the time I spent on that clock tower was real. I wish the three of us could stay together, just like this, forever. But I have to end this. I'll never forget today's sunset. Even if Roxas and Axel do, I won't forget.

Xion was able to think for herself. And she was capable of love, which she said Saïx would scoff at. I think this was supposed to be very ironic, since we would have learned that Isa loved Lea very much.

“In the way of us. I trust you.”

Axel cracked a dry smile. “You say that exactly like you would if you had a heart.”

“My memories of the time I did have one are making it so, that’s all. If you get in the way any further, though, the memories I have since becoming a Nobody will overwrite them.”

“…That sounds like a threat.”

“More or less. Keep it in mind.” Finished with the conversation, Saïx walked away. Axel didn’t move for a while.

On this day, before Axel intervened, Saïx told Axel he trusted him, and Axel said it sounded just like he had a heart. Then he issued a threat and told Axel to keep it it mind. Axel still didn’t let Roxas and Xion kill each other.

“That’s my Poppet! Leaving me with nothing do to here,” said Xigbar, grinning as he watched Xion fight. He turned to Axel. “Don’t you think so, Carrot-top?”

“Yeah. I have no idea why you’re here either,” said Axel, with only the slightest hint of sarcasm.

Xigbar laughed like it was unbearably funny, body almost bent double. “Hahaha. So very true. It’s because I tagged along on my own selfish whim, that’s all. Guys shooting for power do make a point to listen to guys like me.” Guys shooting for power—he means Saïx. Axel listened to Xigbar in silence.

I think this is the main thing that made Saïx and Xigbar’s relationship so interesting. Saïx is a guy shooting for power. Xigbar finds it hilarious because he remembers Isa as a powerless kid who was turned into a human puppet for being too weak to resist. Although Saïx is trying to gain power, he is incapable of the power of love since his heart was captured.

Sora: What do you know? You weren’t even there! If you were, you’d admire Herc’s courage.

Xigbar: I don’t admire one guy leaping into danger if it means someone else might have to jump in to save him. You’re all just lining up to lose out. Dooming others to take the fall with ya. Oh. and you can spare me the usual party line. Yes, hearts are powerful when they’re connected. But if you put too much of that power in one place, some of those hearts might end up breaking. Still, Sora, that doesn’t mean you should change. Accept the power you’re given. Find the hearts joined to yours.

Isa seemed to have a really strong heart. He may not have been physically strong, but he still had power. I'm sure Xigbar saw Ventus glaring at him for an important reason. Xigbar was involved with the fate of Terra, Aqua, and Ventus. But he was much more heavily involved in the experiments. I think the reason Xigbar saw Ventus might have been because Isa reminded him of Ven.

“Yes, it was not supposed to gain a mind of its own—nor become the person we see.” Xemnas closed his eyes. “But in the end, it only proves that the puppet is the more worthy vessel.”

“Whether Xion takes from Roxas the rest of what he has to give…or whether he destroys her first and takes back what is his, there is no change to our plans. No matter how, Sora’s power will belong to us.”

“Understood, sir.” Xemnas disappeared nearly before he heard his order acknowledged.

“…Well, do your best. The best a kid without a heart can do, anyway,” said Xigbar, and he too disappeared.

Just before Roxas runs away, Xemnas and Xigbar say these things to Saïx. Somewhere along the way, Isa probably went from a broken puppet that was going to be disposed of, to being considered the more worthy vessel. Just like Xion.

Day 355: I Am

I have to know who I am...I am DONE WITH THIS.

Roxas left the organization and used his ability to think for himself. His diary entry is entitled, “I Am”. Xion’s theme is called, “Who Am I?”

Day 355: Mind

Author: Xigbar

The gears of Xemnas’ plans have begun to spin wild since the loss of half our membership at Castle Oblivion. The results are there, but can this state of affairs fairly be called a success? If Kingdom Hearts can be said to possess a mind of its own, it is surely rejecting Xemnas—no, rejecting Xehanort. Roxas left the Organization today.

And Xigbar’s entry is entitled “Mind”. He said Kingdom Hearts had a mind of its own and was rejecting Xemnas. The mind control experiments no doubt involved the subject’s mind rejecting Xehanort. Saïx only thinks he’s Isa, but it’s all smoke and mirrors.

#kingdom hearts #kh meta #kh saix #kh isa #kh xigbar #kh xemnas

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lessonsfrommadamexmas · 5 years

Text

The Moon Festival

This story was written for a fic challenge on the theme of celebrations, and I was sorted the Chinese Moon Festival, so I adapted it to Xing. This is also the first time I write about Almay and Xing. :)

Summary: Alphonse, Jerso and Zampano travel to Xing and their first stop is the Chang clan. 2.4k words. Link to AO3.

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i. Moon shaped

The scent of baking cake and nuts decorated the little house where May lived, nestling in every corner and chasing noses curious for the delights they would have a chance to experience in a few hours. Jerso, Alphonse and Zampano followed the princess of the Chang clan to the kitchen while she told exciting stories about the dish she had chosen to make for Mid-Autumn Festival.

Al had to admit that upon arriving in Xing, he was surprised by the life she was carrying, for little had changed from what he knew about the princess. May lived alone in a comfortable but not luxurious home and worked side by side with her people. Everyone treated her like a princess and a hero who had conquered a voice for her clan before the new emperor and brought better days for them, yet May wanted nothing more for herself than what the others had.

– The festival takes place on a full moon, so we also call it the Moon Festival. Pay close attention and you’ll see goddess Chang’e on the surface of the moon.

– Goddess Chang? Like your clan? – asked Jerso sitting by the table.

– Chang'e. – she repeated, emphasizing the "e" with a sound similar to an "a". – Legend goes that we once had ten suns in the sky. They were brothers and every day one of them traveled the planet, bringing heat and energy. However, they preferred each other's company and one day decided to travel together. With that, the soil was ruined, the waters began to disappear and the animals to die. But the brothers no longer wanted to stay apart, so emperor Yao sent his most powerful archer to defeat them.

– Yao? Like Ling? – it was Al's turn to interrupt.

– Exactly! – May replied, heading for the oven to check the small lunar cakes, round and stuffed with a paste rich in spices.

– I wonder how the emperor of Xing is celebrating the Moon Festival. – Zampano asked, peering anxiously at May’s exquisite dish.

– Certainly with a party even larger than this one. – Jerso commented.

– Undoubtedly, it's an important celebration to all of us.

– But, please, continue the story of the goddess Chang'e, May.

– Hou Yi, the archer, was married to Chang'e. He killed nine of the suns, forcing the last one to follow its routine alone. This left their father, Emperor Di Jun, furious, so Hou Yi asked the Queen Mother immortality for himself and his wife. She granted him two doses of elixir for helping Earth and restoring life and fertility, but there was one problem: his apprentice saw when Hou Yi gave the elixir for Chang'e to hide, and decided to approach her alone to steal immortality for himself.

– They should have taken it at once. – Zampano pointed it out what he considered plot hole.

– Yes, but Hou Yi liked his life as it was and only wanted it for an emergency. Without being able to defend herself, Chang'e drank all the elixir, which was a big mistake. It was for two, and whoever consumed all of it would become a god. Hou Yi arrived in time to see her beloved rising to the skies to inhabit the moon. Desolate, Hou Yi had to live the rest of his days alone, staring at the image of Chang'e on the surface of the moon. He turned her into a symbol of his struggle to bring prosperity to his people, and offered her a feast with her favorite food.

ii. Common sense

The sky embraced them in its dark blue cloak and Alphonse waited with the lanterns as May, Jerso and Zampano collected the cookies they would bring to the party. Leaning over the window of the living room, Al struggled to see the outline of a woman in a long dress on the round satellite. He did not want to disappoint May, but he'd decided it was best to let her show him than to lie about what he could see.

The girl's light and hurried footsteps vibrated the floor toward him, and the Amestrian turned his head toward the hallway.

– I’ll carry the lanterns with you, they're on their way. – she announced entering the room.

May wore purple and blue, and had Xiao-mei lodged on her shoulder. It was the first time the boy had seen her wear her hair in a single bun, with only two braids running down her back.

When Al wrote to May to inform his itinerary and the time they would spend with her clan, she made him promise to stay until the Moon Festival. As she didn’t give much explanation, he understood that the princess wanted it to be a surprise. Now, the more he saw and heard, the more Alphonse realized the importance of the party to the Changs. The clan was once among the poorest of Xing, withering away, but with Ling’s promised assistance – who gave them the peripheral land for cultivation – this was their first year of great prosperity in a long time. The first year they had much more to thank than to ask for on the festival.

– I was here observing the sky. – he said as May approached. – I'm not sure if I can see the goddess Chang'e, although I think I can see the skirt of her dress in that ... – Al tried to raise his arm to point at the window, but was prevented by May.

– Mr. Alphonse, do not point to the moon! – the girl shouted in astonishment, holding his hand in the air, and Xiao-mei shook her head in disappointment.

– Oh, sorry, is anything bad gonna happen? – Al asked nervously.

– Who knows! But I think I stopped you in time, why would you do that? – May's expression of disbelief was replaced by heroically arched eyebrows. – Luckily, I was here.

– Yes, thank you very much for letting me know.

If his brother was there, he would say that that was a huge nonsense and would point to the moon only for the pleasure of defying superstitions. But for Al that was the best part of immersing himself in a different culture: the surprises of little gestures, as well as the replacement of an instant of worry by the relief of having escaped a wave of bad luck.

iii. Reflections the night brings.

The party took place everywhere, and all the doors were open turning the village into one single home, with large outdoor tables, lanterns scattered on the floor and music splashed in the air.

The group of tourists was finally delighting themselves with the lunar cakes. The delicacy had a thin crust and a perfect note of sweetness, but also a heavy filling that challenged them to eat anything else offered on the banquet. Jerso and Zampano looked ready for any food they could place their eyes on while Al drank his tea and began to calculate the space available in his stomach when May invited them to join a conversation.

Sitting on the floor with colorful lanterns around, the group admired the moon and shared their detailed impressions of it. The cold breeze of fall dissipated in the warmth of that gathering. One by one, Alphonse was attentive to everything they said in search of recognizable words, while May added precise translation at the end of each comment. Then, the ancient lady extended her palm invitingly towards the blond boy.

– Mr. Alphonse, it's your turn. – the princess informed, seeing that he was caught off guard.

– May, but I'm not good enough with descriptions yet, I won’t know what to say.

– Don’t worry, just talk and I’ll translate. – she encouraged him. – The important thing is to participate. So how does the moon make you feel?

Alphonse rested his hands on the grass and looked up. He allowed himself to be enveloped in the night, mesmerized by the golden glow emanating from the full moon, and soon found a place that was familiar to him, although the opposite of the present moment.

– For a few years, the night was a constant reminder of how dark life was. I was empty and sleep didn’t come, so I watched the moon either from the window or on outdoor walks, so often that I would get tired of the skies. I didn’t know that goddess Chang'e was there with me, so I couldn’t feel less lonely while everyone slept. – the boy spoke slowly without taking his eyes off his object of study, and heard as May repeated his words in Xingese. – I knew I was surrounded by life, but I could’t feel it as my footsteps touched the grass and the cats felt my touch. As unreachable as the moon. But today, here with you, the night has never been so alive, and the moon has never been so close. It’s gained flavor and texture reflected in our meal, and thanks to you, I can now associate the moon with hospitality, tenderness and festivity. Thank you.

Still distracted, the boy waited for the last words of the princess, but was surprised by a sob in her voice.

– May, you're crying!

– Mr. Alphonse, that was so beautiful. – She covered her face with her hands and Xiao May buried her nose in her shoulder.

She was not the only one. Around him, the other Xinguese seemed touched by his story, and Al saw Jerso and Zampano discreetly wiping their eyes.

– Thank you for sharing the wisdom of your experience, my dear. – Al was able to comprehend the old woman's words, who smiled at him. – You made our night more special.

iv. What the tongue has yet to learn

A couple of miles away from May's house, the strange quartet formed by a tiny girl with her little panda and three tall guys watched the street theater perform the story of Chang’e. Alphonse noticed that the dialogue was scarce but too flourished for their comprehension, so he was glad to have learned the story earlier and dismiss translation now. May’s Xingese lessons had focused on communication and efficiency instead of poetry, and the four of them built together a small dictionary of technical terms that could be important in their research. For their journey, that would be enough.

The play was visually rich like everything else in that night, but the tourists were yet to be surprised by a parade. Dancing dragons invaded the streets along with more lanterns in various formats. Colored birds flew around them as they advanced and the lake multiplied the lights of swimming fishes. Looking down the mountainous terrain, Al could see the pastures and plantations that brightened the days of the Chang clan.

Jerso and Zampano abandoned the parade to visit yet another table, while May and Alphonse promised to join them later. Not long after they left, May was spotted by a girl in red dress who Al believed to be her cousin. She took the princess by the arm and talked in her ear, then shot a giggling look at the Amestrian boy. May shouted her an annoyed "take care of your life!" in their mother language and she left grinning.

Al was invaded by self-awareness. He always felt comfortable and happy in Xingese attire, but wearing it wasn’t enough to make him belong. Did he look ridiculous trying to fit in with his blond hair and blue eyes and taller stature?

– So what did she say?

– Err, it wasn’t anything important. – the princess waved her hands in an attempt to shove off the question, a gesture mimicked by Xiao-mei.

– May! How will I learn Xingese if you don’t teach me? She looked at me, I know she was talking about me. Was it anything bad?

– It was nothing like that! I'm sure she was not looking at you. She just said that the Moon Festival is also a time to try your luck in love ... You know, it’s a time of prosperity, so for some people it’s a time to plan life and find a pair.

– Oh, really? – it was all he could say as he acknowledged the real meaning of the girl’s comment.

– See? I said it was no big deal! Look, if you stayed longer, I could teach you more Xingese, so do not complain to me.

– I'm sorry, May. But I'm not on this journey alone. Jerso and Zampano, we have so much to do. Besides, I need to be there when my brother returns, to discuss what we learned on our first trip.

– Yes. I know you have to go. – she smiled, but it did not look as lively as her other smiles. – Tomorrow morning ... And that this is not the best route on your way back to Amestris.

– I don’t want to be unfair to you. I cannot ask you to wait for me without knowing when I'll be back ...

– What are you talking about?

The parade had come to an end and people around them were getting disperse. The two of them had to walk to the nearest tree to escape from the chaotic crowd.

– I’m saying that I like you, May. I like you so much, but I see how you belong in this place. How you fought for Xing, to enjoy with your people the life you have today. And I, I have to go back to my home, so I can’t just kiss you and ask you to compromise ...

– Kiss? – her eyes glittered at that word, stealing from him a line of thought.

– Did I say kiss?

Al felt his cheeks burn, but he could not quite understand why shame invaded his confession. What he felt for May made him happy, and he was under the impression she shared the same feeling.

– Alphonse. – she used only his name for the first time, abandoning formal treatments like he’d asked of her many times in the past. – I waited two years to see you again. And I can wait two more to kiss you again if so needed. Two, not four. – She put her hands on his shoulders and locked her lips on his, tenderly and discreetly, not letting herself be noticed in the crowd.

Al grinned, and Xiao-mei jumped to his neck giving the boy her version of a kiss on the chin.

– So you do wanna date me?

– Of course, yes. I heard you're an excellent fighter, not very temperamental, and a gentleman.

– I'll be back. – Al promised, holding her hands. – As soon as I can.

– Or I'll go visit you. Who said I don’t feel like traveling as well?

- - - -

#Alphonse Elric #May Chang #journey to the east #Jerso and Zampano #Almay #almei #post-promised day #alphonse in xing #fullmetal fanfic

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kimjoongs-main · 5 years

Text

all hallows eve

↬ “i usually advise the weak-hearted not to visit the Weeping Willow. the apothecary is quite...stubborn, for lack of a better word. don’t get me wrong, renjun’s a talented herbalist and is highly skilled in his line of work. the villagers are without a doubt grateful for his services! the issue is...we’re not quite sure he feels the same. if you must, then pay him a visit. otherwise, i would just order from him indirectly like the rest of us.”

meet the other residents of Wisteria

A royal blue building with moss growing on the roof, a royal blue building with moss growing on the roof, a royal blue buil—here it is!

Breathing a sigh of relief, you finally stumbled upon the apothecary’s shop. A large sign hung from the roof shingles with the words The Weeping Willow written on it in smooth, black paint and outlined with an iridescent gold shimmer. The shop itself was quite quaint and rather charming on the outside. Surrounded by an iron fence, with only a tiny gate separating the rocky dirt road from the smooth stone pathway, the Weeping Willow was definitely a sight for sore eyes.

Carefully unlocking the gate, you stepped foot on the stone trail that led to door of the shop. However, as soon as the tip of your shoe came in contact with the stones, a glowing red light seeped out from the edges. You jumped back, letting out a sharp squeak as the stone continued to glow. Soon after, the other stones nearby began to glow as well with different shades of reds, greens, blues, and yellows. The iron gate shook rapidly before it slammed shut, lock placing itself back through the hole and tightening. The window shutters flew wide open, pounding against the walls of the building with fervor, as if it had a mind of it’s own.

You gripped the woven basket tightly in your hand, inching backwards slowly, ready to make a run for it at any given time. You didn’t really know what was going on, but you were certain of one thing.

This wasn’t an ordinary apothecary shop.

As the edifice continued it’s frightening theatrical display, you failed to notice the willow door gradually opening little by little. Pale, dainty fingers wrapped around the edge while glaring amber eyes peered through the tiny slit, shifting back and forth between the illuminated stones and the panicked newcomer cowering behind the front gate. The hidden figure’s mouth turned down into an unappreciative scowl, a soft growl escaping from the depths of his chest and up through his parted lips.

“And to what do I owe the displeasure? Do you not realize how early it is?”

Confused as to where the sudden biting tone came from, your eyes frantically scanned the perimeter of the area, until they finally locked with the burning yellow orbs peeking through the doorway. You audibly gasped at their overwhelming intensity, causing you to choke on your next words.

“U-um w-well I was...I was j-just—“

“Spit it out already! I do not have the time for this.”

“I was...I was told you’d be open this morning,” your words faded towards the end, and you feared the thought of having to repeat yourself once more. However, it seemed your words managed to reach the obscured figure’s ears. His eyes made a rolling motion and you heard a soft scoff leave his lips.

“And who told you that?” he grumbled.

You gulped. “The innkeeper at the Harrownight Inn, Mark L—“

“Mark Lee, of course. I should have known.”

He clicked his tongue in disapproval and all at once, everything stopped.

The stones lost their dazzling glow, the window shutters ceased their incessant pounding on the walls, and the gate opened with a chilling creak, inviting you to once again make the daring cross over from the safety and familiarity of the dirt path to the uncertainty and perplexity of the stone trail. Still shocked from your past experience, you hesitated placing your foot down on the same stone that caused that terrifying chain of events to play out, that is until you heard a frustrated groan come from inside the shop.

“Either you hurry up and get inside or else I’ll slam this door in your face. Your choice, my dear. Make it quick.”

Determined to not make him annoyed with you any further, you simply disregarded your inkling sense of fear and raced inside, the door promptly shutting behind you. Once you arrived within the confines of the shop, you took the time to take in your surroundings.

Despite the rising sun shining its dazzling light upon the earth outside, the interior was rather dim and gloomy. Silk curtains covered every single window, and the only source of light provided was a single flame atop a bed of chipped logs.

The snarky figure, who you presumed was Renjun, the apothecary Mark told you about, was nowhere to be seen. It was as if he vanished into thin air upon your entrance into the shop. The only sign of life you could see was a baby calico kitten, snuggled up on a leather couch by the fireplace. The golden hazel tone of her fur was enhanced by the warm flare of the candlelight.

Entranced by the kitten’s adorable appearance, you could hardly restrain yourself from walking over and gently running your fingers through it’s silky smooth coat.

“Well, aren’t you a beauty?” you mused quietly to yourself, smiling widely as the kitten purred and nestled it’s tiny head into the palm of your hand. You could practically feel your heart swell with adoration.

“Her name’s Luna,” a hushed, yet firm voice rang out, startling you enough to yank your hand back and twirl around to find the source of said voice.

You didn’t have to look very far because standing directly in front of you, was the young man you presumed to be Renjun. He was covered with a beige brown cloak, similar to your own, and adorned fingerless, leather gloves around his delicate poised hands. A single chain hung from his neck with a luminescent sapphire blue charm dangling in front of his chest. Shifting your gaze back up, you were shocked to see just how...juvenile he looked. He couldn’t have possibly been any older than you or Mark, perhaps even younger.

As you continued to observe him, you couldn’t deny his undeniably refined beauty. A petite, elegant face curtained by strands as black as the night sky. The slope of his nose, the deepness of his eyes, the curve of his lips, all factors that contributed to the apothecary’s ethereal appearance.

However, you noticed something different about him this time. His eyes. No longer were they the burning gold you had witnessed them to be only a few moments earlier. Now they had calmed down and faded into a familiar, earthy brown. But that was not all. There seemed to be lingering traces of amber speckled across the edge of his iris, or perhaps your own eyes saw it as an illusion, merely a reflection of the burning embers flying off the crackling flame. But you knew for certain, there was something else concealed behind it.

“Are you just going to stand there and gawk at me all day, or are you going to sit down?” Renjun’s snarky tone snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, um..yes.”

You quickly took a seat on the creaky, old chair by the work table. Renjun was standing on the opposite side, hands carefully lifting vials of vibrant and desaturated substances up to his face. He inspected each one with the utmost attention to detail, turning the vials over in the palm of his hand and holding them up by the cork. Once he deemed a substance to be satisfactory, Renjun then placed the vials inside a large baleen basket. He proceeded to do this for a few more minutes, and when he ran out of vials to inspect, he covered the basket and carried it over to a large shelf, putting the basket of vials on the bottom. He stood up straight, briefly dusted off his cloak, and made his way back over to you.

Renjun pulled up another chair from the side of the room and positioned it on the opposite side of where you were sitting. He plopped down with a soft thud, breathing out an exasperated sigh as his fingers gently tapped on the edge of the table. He flicked his hard gaze up to you. If looks could kill, you would definitely be six feet under right about now.

“So what exactly is your reasoning for being here so early in the morning, pray tell?”

“I’m seeking a remedy to help treat my cuts and bruises.”

“...That’s it? That’s all you came here for? With how early it is, I assumed you needed something more...” he paused, searching for the right word, “...substantial.”

You raised your eyebrows. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Renjun chuckled dryly at your offended tone, and you could have sworn you saw a flash of emerald appear in the middle of his pupil. “Calm down, my dear. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

He peered over my shoulder and clicked his tongue twice. Almost immediately, a flash of orange and black whipped past your face and landed elegantly in his lap. Luna pawed gently at Renjun’s thigh before resting her head upon it, soft purrs leaving her tiny body as her owner absentmindedly stroked her fur.

“It’s just...you’re one of the few customers I’ve had who actually comes here seeking the correct treatments,” he sighed. “You see, people like to stop by and request remedies that far exceed the degree of their ailment. I once received a customer who requested a full jar of Full Moon Drops to relieve his minor stomachache.”

Seeing the confusion appear on your face, Renjun was quick to explain. “Full Moon Drops should be used sparingly. Once the victi—I mean, the diseased, consumes a drop or two, they should feel the effects happen within a moment. Unfortunately, those drops can become quite addictive the more you consume them, and the more you consume, the more susceptible you are to hallucinations...and quite possibly even death if you were to go that far.”

At that, Renjun smiled sinisterly.

A flash of red.

“However, if that were to happen I certainly wouldn’t be the one to complain. This world has become far too crowded, don’t you think?”

An indignant sound left your lips at this unexpected question, causing the young apothecary to snicker.

“I’m only joking, my dear. All of my customers...dead,” he spoke solemnly, but you detected a hint of malice underneath. “I wouldn’t be able to make a living. Imagine how dreadful that would be for me?”

You remained silent, perturbed at the slightly horrific direction this conversation took. You almost regretted refusing Mark’s offer to walk you here himself.

What a foolish choice on your part.

“My apologies, things went a little dark there, didn’t they?”

Renjun sighed once more before he abruptly leaned forward, gazing deeply at you with narrowed eyes.

A flash of green again.

“You said you needed something for your cuts and bruises, correct?”

A meek nod.

“Would you mind showing me where the injuries are so I can get a good judgement of their extremity?”

Obeying his request, you slowly lifted up the sleeves of your cloak, revealing an array of scarlet lines and speckles of violet and indigo shades. Renjun gingerly reached out and wrapped his fingers around your wrist, bringing your forearm closer to his face to get a closer inspection. His other hand ran over the cuts, immediately retracting once he hears a soft hiss sound from you.

After a few more moments of complete utter silence, Renjun finally frees your wrist and rises from his chair. Luna is quick to scurry off his lap before she falls, her little paws trodding across the wooden floor and back to her former resting spot on the couch.

Your eyes stay glued on Renjun’s form, watching him move about the shop, up and down the shelves, inbetween the tables, and under the hanging herbal plants. Not once did he cease his movements, even has he spoke to you.

“I’m not too worried about those bruises. They’ll heal on their own in a few days. As for the cuts—“ he momentarily stopped, reappearing from behind a row of shelves with a round container and a roll of bandages in hand. He returned to his seat in front of you and place the items down the on the table.

“This here,” he held up the round container “is Tree Sap Salve. It helps with healing minor cuts at a faster rate and leaves the skin with a stronger layer, so that even someone as clumsy as you will not be able to inflict minor wounds on yourself again.” He smirked, but continued.

“Massage the salve on your wounds twice a day, once before you go to bed and once after you wake up. Wrap them in these bandages to ensure that the salve won’t rub off. Keep doing this and I guarantee those cuts will be long gone in a few days.”

As soon as he was finished explaining, Renjun hastily wrapped up the items in a nude satchel and pushed it over to me.

“How much do I owe?” you asked, moving to receive my coin purse from the inside of you cloak.

Renjun stared at you for a moment. Then a small, almost genuine smile appeared on his lips.

A flash of yellow.

“You said Mark sent you, yes?”

You nodded.

“Well then, in that case your purchases are on me. You’re welcome.”

“Are you sure? But—“

Renjun raised up his hand to silence you. “Before coming here, he also probably told you to remind me to eat, is that right?”

Surprised at how he knew, you simply moved your head up and down. Renjun smirked again.

“I thought so. Well, when you return to the inn, make sure to tell him that I already had a hearty breakfast with Jaemin earlier this morning. I’m sure that will get a...reaction out of him.”

“What kind of reaction?”

The apothecary chuckled jovially. “Let’s just say...Mark and Jaemin don’t walk the same path. The less you know about their relationship, the better.”

You took his warning into consideration, but couldn’t help being curious as to what he meant.

Deciding to feign ignorance about it for now, you reached for the satchel and slung it over your shoulder. You raised your hand to Renjun in a farewell, and he reciprocated, although rather blandly.

Before you could walk through the willow door, you were stopped by Renjun’s voice.

“Where are you off to next, my dear?”

“Wherever my feet take me, I guess.”

He quirked his eyebrow at your vague answer. “I see. If I may, I’d like to provide another warning.”

You waited patiently.

“Stay away from the castle by all means. Trust me, you do not want to get roped into whatever ridiculous scheme that pompous little brat comes up with.”

#nct #nct dream #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct au #nct dream au #renjun scenarios #renjun au #renjun #all hallows eve

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williamshakespaw · 5 years

Text

Chronicles

“For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.” Romans 3:23

A short story I wrote with a horror character I’ve been working on for a few years. Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed finally writing something for him.

“Hey! Knock it off Mike!” David screamed as his older, torturous brother twisted his arm in an indian burn. They were only children then and sessions like this were a daily occurrence in David’s home. Only this time Mike wouldn’t stop twisting. He kept twisting and twisting until flesh peeled from muscle and the young David watched as his skin began sloughing off of his body.

David awoke screaming in pain. His scream was cut short as he instinctively moved to get up but was immediately pulled harshly back onto the ground. David’s head hit the stone floor and for a moment he saw stars. A dream. Just a dream. He thought to himself as he waited on the floor for his head to stop spinning. “But where am I?” David whispered aloud to himself as he sat himself upright. The pain in his hands still persisted despite being awake and David looked down to the bailing twine wrapped around his wrists.

Come on, it’s like a long night of partying. Put back together what happened. David thought as he felt his heart rate accelerate in fear. You went over to Sara’s to fix her sink. Things got hot and heavy as usual, and then… His brow furrowed in thought as he tried to swim through the fog of his memories. “John.” David finally said, his voice dripping with malice. “That scrawny bastard. Where are you!” He screamed into empty air. “I swear! If you’ve hurt Sara I’m going to put you six feet under!” Silence hung in the air of that empty cell for a long few seconds. That silence was only broken by the cawing of crows in response.

A shiver went down David’s back as those caws filled the void of his dungeon. “Always knew he was a fucking creep.” David mumbled to himself as he awkwardly stood up without the use of his hands. Thankfully, David’s eyes had mostly adjusted to the darkness surrounding him. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all made from rough cut stone. A heavy wooden door was the only way in or out of the small space. The only thing provided was a small bucket in the corner and the entire room smelled of stale piss and dried blood.

I need to get these restraints off first. David thought as he looked down at his bound hands. He started by examining the walls on the perimeter of the cell. The only thing David needed was something sharp enough to cut the twine. From his own experience on a farm he knew there was no way to simply rip them off. After coming up with nothing sharp enough, David anxiously glanced at the bucket in the corner. “God damn it.” He said and sighed to himself. David awkwardly knelt down next to the bucket and examined the rusted metal. It was just corroded and textured enough to be able to saw a hole through the twine.

After a few moments of trying to position his wrists on the lip of the bucket, David lost his balance and knocked the bucket down with him. It’s rotten contents spread across the stone floor and partially onto David himself. He shakily righted himself and violently wretched from the smell. After a few ragged breaths, David put his wrists back to the bucket and began sawing through the twine.

David sighed deeply at the instant relief he felt by breaking his bonds. His wrists were rubbed raw and at some parts David thought he could even see muscle. David’s eyes went to the imposing wooden door as he wracked his mind trying to think of how to get passed it. He looked back down at the rusted bucket and an idea came to him. David stomped hard and the brittle metal snapped underneath his boot. After looking at all of the possible pieces to take, David decided on a long sharp piece of the handle. He moved to the door and began to pick the old lock and prayed that the rusted metal wouldn’t break. Finally, a small ‘click’ echoed out through the cell and the door slowly creaked open.

“Yes!” David said to himself with a small smile. He quickly ran out into the hallway and stopped dead in his tracks as he was met with about 15 crows that turned to stare at him with black, hollow eyes. David covered his ears in pain as a cacophony of birds and feathers echoed through the hallway. A rush of black plumes and sharp talons flew by David and knocked him to the ground once more.

As soon as it started it was over and the dungeon was quiet once more. “What the fuck is this place.” David mumbled to himself as he examined the fresh scratches dotting his skin. He shakily stood once more as he looked around the hallway he found himself in. Old, flickering lights lined the ceiling which cast the hallway in a dismal glow. Various doors very similar to the one David just went through lined the walls. Some of them swung ominously open, almost inviting him to step inside. Others were shut and, David assumed, locked.

Groans of pain hauntingly echoed through the stone hallway and David’s blood ran cold as he realized he wasn’t the only one here. Sara. He thought as he made his way cautiously down the hallway. David glanced in a few of the doors but the cells were too dark to see into from the outside. He pulled on the handle but the door didn’t budge. “Sara?” David called into the dark cell. Once again, his only response was a cawing from somewhere deeper in this nightmare.

David continued this pattern multiple times on multiple different doors. Each time met with the same reply reverberating through the halls. He eventually turned a corner and came face to face with a single crow standing in the middle of the corridor. The crow cocked its head and looked at David with those dark, beady eyes. The two stared at each other for a few seconds before a chill ran down David’s spine. It suddenly felt like there was someone, something, else in the hallway with them. A horrifying something that was slowly getting closer and closer.

All of a sudden, the crow squawked and fluttered its wings as it flew down the hallway and rounded the next corner. David watched as it’s shadow disappeared and was replaced with a different silhouette. Something larger, something more humanoid. John! David thought as adrenaline coursed through his body. He quickly glanced around for something to hide in or, better yet, use as a weapon.

Without wasting much time, David ducked into one of the open cells and pressed himself up against the wall behind the door. The sound of boots on the stone floor began to approach David’s hiding place. “I ain’t got time to deal with this. Sara is waitin’.” John said to seemingly no one in particular. A crow cawed in response and David heard John sigh heavily. “Alright, alright. Ya make a good point.” He said. Is he talking to the fucking birds? David thought in a mix of terror and confusion.

David waited until the footsteps passed and faded completely before exiting his hiding spot. He made his way quietly down the hallway and strained to hear the sound of John’s boots or more of those damn crows. But the only sound David could hear were his own footsteps and the sound of his heart beat drumming in his ears.

After a few more corners David stopped and frowned to himself. I am absolutely lost. Is there any end to this place? He thought as he tried to get his bearings. However, David’s thoughts were cut short when he heard the sound of wings flapping. He turned to see a crow enter the hallway and land on the floor. “CAW!” It shrieked as it fluttered away back where it came from. “Come on, David. Yer gonna make it a lot easier on yerself if ya just stop runnin’.” John said, his voice coming from the direction the bird flew off to.

John’s shadow crept up the wall like a creature in a horror movie.David turned as fast as he could and bolted for the opposite direction. I might as well be in a horror movie. He thought to himself as he ran through the twisting halls of the dungeon. There has to be an exit here somewhere. David thought as he rounded another corner and was met with another crow. “Shit!” He exclaimed as the bird cawed and flew off past David and down the way he had just come. “Sara is scared and alone. Let us gentlemen hurry this up so we ain’t keepin’ the lady waitin’.” John’s voice said from somewhere down the hallway.

Fuck Sara! I’ve got to get out of here myself! David thought in a panic as he turned and sprinted as fast as he could. It seemed that around every corner there was a crow and John was only a step behind him the entire time. David heaved heavy, tired breaths as he ran around in this seemingly endless maze. He was about to give up when he finally rounded a corner and found a set of stairs that led to a hatch in the ceiling. Please don’t be locked. Please don’t be locked. David desperately thought as he took the stairs two at a time.

David pushed the wooden hatch with all of his strength and it swung open. He all but lept out of the exit and was ready to finally smell something other than decay. Instead, he walked into something worse. Corpses in varying states of decay and consumption hung off of meat hooks suspended from the ceiling. Crows were covering the blighted corpses and picking off bits of their flesh. The concrete floor was covered in various bone fragments and body parts. Some of them look like they’ve been laying there for years.

David struggled not to vomit for a second time as the crows stopped their feast and turned to look at him. David’s eyes quickly moved to another set of stairs to the left of him. He just had to outrun the birds then freedom was his. As David turned to make his escape that horrible sound of wings fluttering filled the room and began to rush toward him. David practically crawled up the stairs in his desperate attempt to flee as the sound of crows came closer and closer.

David launched himself off of the top stair and closed the hatch by kicking it down and standing on top of it. The force of the frenzied birds caused thd wooden door to bounce him up and down. David fumbled with the lock for a moment trying to latch it close. As the lock slid into place the clamor of birds suddenly stopped and David was met with sweet sweet silence once more. He kept his eyes on the hatch as he slowly backed away from it. David expected any moment for that lock to break loose and the crows come rushing out. Or worse, John. He thought grimly.

David didn’t know John very well. No one in town did. If John wasn’t at church or coming into town to pick up something small he was always on his farm. As far as David knew, he lived there with his mother. John’s father, the towns pastor, had passed away about 6 years ago and left the property to his son. Thankfully John didn’t follow in his father’s footsteps and instead he devoted his time to running their small farm. The town got a new pastor and John got to keep his creepy ass secluded to his house. It seemed like it was a win win for the whole town.

Who knows what that guy is going to do to me if he gets his hands on me. David thought as he finally took his eyes off of the hatch. Various stalls lined this room and in the dark David could see the vague shapes of horses. Smells like horses too. He thought as he crumpled his nose against the smell. David quietly made his way to the side of the room and was careful not to spook any horses or run into any more crows.

Once David finally reached the wooden walls of the barn he quickly found a metal door. David put his hand to the cold metallic knob and prayed that this was the door that was going to save him. This was the door that could lead to his freedom. He slowly turned the door knob and felt the warm summer air brush over his skin.

David stepped outside and took in a deep breath. For the first time in this whole ordeal David felt that he could finally breathe again. He looked around at John’s small farm and actually felt a moment of calm. Outside of that nightmarish dungeon, the property was quite peaceful. The nearby field of sudan grass rustled soothingly in the breeze. A few chickens roamed about in the fading light of the setting sun and picked at the ground. The faint sound of dogs could be heard down near the farm house.

Dogs. Dogs aren’t good. David thought as that sense of terror began creeping up his spine once more. The cawing of crows could now be heard on top of the barking and David froze for a moment while thinking of what to do. If I just pick a direction and run I’ll get out of here. This place can’t go on forever. I’ll get to town, I’ll find the police, and I’ll lead them back to this sickos lair. He thought and clenched his fist out of anger.

David saw a figure walk out onto the porch of the farm house. “I’m gonna find ya’, David. You can’t hide from the eyes of God.” John yelled. He then pointed off toward the barn and David could see the two faint silhouettes of dogs slowly and quietly slinking their way toward the building. David looked over at the tall stalks of sudan grass and decided that hiding in the field would be his best bet. At least those stupid crows can’t get to me. He thought as he pushed the tall plant aside and began to creep quietly through the field.

It wasn’t long after that David heard the flapping of wings once more. He stopped in the field and crouched down in hopes that the birds couldn’t see him in the approaching darkness. The murder of crows above David circled the field and squawked desperately while trying to find him. It seemed that whatever they see, their twisted master sees as well. Not to mention those dogs. David remembered as he nervously looked behind him.

It seemed that the field continued on and on and on. For a moment, David wondered if this was some kind of holy punishment. A purgatory made just for him. Of endless crows, sudan grass, and the one guy in town you don’t want to be left alone with. Perhaps this madness would never truly end. Maybe when John’s dogs got to him David would simply wake back up in that cell and start all over again.

His thoughts of penance were cut short at the sound of rustling in the grass behind him. David quickly spun around as the crows went silent and two low growls could be heard in the dark. Two border collies, one black and one brown, could be seen moving between the stalks and making their way toward him. The sight of the dogs eyes reflecting in the moonlight caused adrenaline to course through David’s body.

That basic human instinct of fight or flight kicked in and David ran as fast as he could. The rough texture of the grass whipped across his face and stung his wounds. The growls behind David turned to barks as the dogs sprinted toward him. It wasn’t long after that he felt one of the border collies fangs sink deep into his calf.

David tasted dirt and blood and his head hit the ground. Despite the pain, David reached his hand out to grasp something, anything, to pull him away from the animal. From the corner of his pain blurred vision David saw the other dog appear. It lunged for his outstretched hand and David screamed in pain as he felt his bones crack under the pressure of the dog’s mouth.

“Down.” A low voice commanded from somewhere outside of David’s field of view. He gasped in relief as the dogs released their grasp on him and then David began to cry. Hard wracking sobs ran through his broken body as he lay there weeping and mangled in the field. David then shakily turned his head to look at his assailant for what he hoped would be the last time.

From David’s position on the ground, the full moon cast an ethereal halo around John’s head. The two border collies retreated back to their master and sat like guardians on either side of him watching David for any sign of defiance. A crow sat perched on John’s shoulder and stared at David with those piercing black eyes. In fact, many more crows flew above and hopped around on the ground next to him. The birds seemed to be completely silent in their movements as the ones on the ground slowly began to approach David.

Is this how I die? In some psychos field? David thought to himself as he whimpered and placed his head back on the ground. “Ya ain’t dyin’ yet.” John said as he knelt down onto the ground. David winced as John took his head in his hands and turned it so that David was facing him once more. “Ya got a lot to answer for, Mr. David Johnson. And I’m here to listen to every last confession.” John said and he took out a rag covered in some kind of liquid.

John put the rag to David’s face and he thrashed against the man’s iron grip. Not long after, David’s vision began to blur even more than it was and his field of view began to darken. The world began to spin and the crows circling above him looked like a hurricane of feathers and darkness. David felt hands under his arms and the bottom half of his body being dragged along the dirt and then he fell unconscious.

David awoke with a sharp, rhythmic pain in his abdomen. John had thrown the broken David over his shoulder and was walking down those dreadful stairs to the basement of his barn. With every step John took his bone would dig into David’s bruised and battered stomach. He tried to fight against the pain. Tried to fight to stay awake. But it was all too much and it wasn’t long before David blacked out once more.

The smell of rust, death, and decay filled David’s nostrils and woke him up from his comatose state. He groggily opened his eyes and blinked a few times to clear his vision and his clouded thoughts. How am I not dead yet? Am I actually in hell? David thought as he looked around the small room.

He was kneeling and his hands were bound together by handcuffs and resting on a long piece of polished dark marble that was littered with candles. David attempted to get up only to find that the chain of the handcuffs were stuck to the altar by a heavy weight. In his drugged and injured state David had no hope of breaking his bonds from sheer strength alone.

David looked around his surroundings and was momentarily entranced by what he saw. The ceiling was domed and at the crown was breathtaking painting depicting angels of justice dressed in glittering plate and armed with holy weapons. Lower down the wall the mural transitioned into depictions of martyrs being brutally executed for their faith. David remembered learning about martyrs in Sunday school alongside John and Sara when they were kids. Though now he couldn't remember the name of a single one. Never thought I would regret not going to church. David thought with a tired smile to himself.

The closer to the floor of the room the painting got the more gruesome it became. Pictures of unholy looking creatures that were dismembering and sodomizing their victims in every way David could imagine possible. In the flickering candle light David could have almost sworn he saw his own face amongst the sinners that were sentenced to an eternity of punishment.

The sound of the door to the apse opening brought David back to reality. He looked over at John who entered the intimate space with his two dogs tailing at his heels. A small flock of crows followed soon after and scattered about the room. They perched on various candelabras and smaller offering tables that were placed methodically around the chamber. A few squawked at David and landed on the altar to peck at his exposed skin.

John calmly walked over to the polished marble slab and shooed away the crows that were closest to David. They squawked and fluttered off in a huff to perch somewhere else in the unholy sanctuary to watch whatever judgement John was about to pass on him. David could feel all of the eyes in the room on him. Almost like all of the animals were the jury in a hellish courtroom.

In the light, David was finally able to get a good look at John. He was tall and lanky for being as strong as he was. John’s face was square and angular and it looked as if he hadn’t shaved in an few days. His dark tousled hair lay to the side of his head and his eyes flickered with a sense of righteousness that caused David to look away in fear and guilt. What have you done wrong? This freak is the one that kidnapped you.

“Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.” John said in the low monotone voice of someone lost deep in prayer. “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our tresspasses, as we forgive those that have trespassed against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.” As he finished the room went deathly silent. “Do you remember what those words mean? I remember sayin’ em with ya every Sunday for a long time.” John added seriously after a moment.

“Fuck you and fuck your words.” David said and spat a mixture of spit and blood at John. He looked down and lightly brushed off his button up shirt before looking back at David. “They ain’t my words. You abandoned God and therefore recent the privilege of Jesus dying on the cross for your sins.” John said and reached for a hatchet with an intricately carved handle. “Which just means you gotta suffer for ‘em yourself.”

David nervously looked between the axe and John trying not to lose his composure. The room, the bible quotes, the crows. He refused to believe any of it was real. It was too ethereal and too ecclesiastical for this to be in a small town in rural Alabama. They had to be in hell. It was the only way to explain it.

“We’ll start back at the basics sincein’ you forgot what it means to be a good Christian.” John said as he set the sharpened end of the axe on the altar next to David’s uncrippled hand. He instinctively jerked away but there was nowhere to go. David was left completely to John’s mercy. If he has any. He nervously thought at he watched the flames of the candles reflected in the metal of the axe head.

“How many things have you stolen in yer life? I remember you bein’ the best lockpick in town. At one point you were makin’ a business out of robbin’ decent folks cars and homes.” John said and lifted the axe in his hand. “Let him that stole steal no more: but rather let him labour, working with his hands the thing which is good, that he may have to give to him that needeth.” He repeated methodically and set the metal lightly on David’s hand. “Let’s make that thieving hand of yours useful.” John said coldly as he raised the axe and struck down hard on David’s wrist.

David screamed out in agony as the sharpened metal cut through skin, muscle and bone. His vision went in and out from the pain as John continued to hack at David’s hand. After three swings his hand was completely severed from his wrist and David looked down in disbelief at the stump that was left behind. The blood that had spurted from his limb began to pool on the dark marble and drip off of the edge.

The shock of the situation delayed the pain long enough for David to watch John take his severed hand and toss it on the floor next to where his two border collies were guarding the door. The dogs immediately lunged at the piece of meat and devoured it in seconds. They looked at their master with blood stained mouths and wagged their tails in anticipation for more treats. “No beggin’.” John scolded and the dogs lowered their ears in disappointment and returned to their post.

The adrenaline began to wear off and David started to whimper at the increasing pain. Tears began to roll down his face and John smiled down at David. “Cryin’ is good. It means yer truly understandin’ the pain you caused others.” John said with a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

“Now, let’s talk about Sara.” John said as he wiped the head of his bloody axe on his jeans. “Sara never loved you.” David said with a short sniffle. He was going to die here. David had come to terms with that fact even before the whole hand chopping incident. The least David could do was torture this freak the only way he knew how. “She always acted so cute and so nice for you so you’d do whatever she’d want. Sara had you wrapped around her little finger and you ate up every minute of it.” David said as he grimaced through the pain he was in.

David looked up to John whose face had twisted into that of one of rage and anger. “How dare ya say that about her. Sara would never do somethin’ as...as...wicked as that.” He growled and a blush rose on his cheeks as he placed his hands on the side of the altar and glowered at David. He stared John in the eyes and listened as the sanctum echoed with the ruffle of feathers and angry caws.

John had always turned to a flustered school boy when it came to Sara and even in this moment, in his unholy menagerie of faith, the mere mention of her still seemed to have that effect on him. In John’s brief moment of weakness David felt in control for the first time since he woke up in this hell hole. Despite the situation a small smile cut through his pain ridden expression. “You were nothing to her. Remember when you found us? When you came in to drop off the groceries you bought her and we were fucking on the couch? Did you wish you were me in that moment? Kissing her lips and touching her ass and-” David blurted out before he felt John strike his head with the blunt side of the axe.

Something inside of David’s head cracked and the world seemed to flip upside down. The images of angels and demons and martyrs blurred with the crows frantically flying around the apse. John’s enraged expression flickered hauntingly in the light of the candles and the shadows of the birds. He was screaming something that David couldn’t make out over the cacophony of sound echoing in the small space and his own dazed state. Eventually, David couldn’t feel the axe coming down on his head anymore. In fact, he couldn’t feel anything at all.

John stood in front of the altar breathless with the bloody axe turned backwards in his hand. “Wrath!” One of the crows circling the room squawked out. “Cease from anger, and forsake wrath,” A different crow cried. “For evildoers shall be cut off: but those that wait upon the Lord, they shall inherit the earth.” Another crow finished.

John took deep breaths to calm his nerves and block out the crows mocking words. The images of Sara on top of David came flooding back into his thoughts. “She forgot you were coming over.” One of the crows reminded John of the excuse Sara had given him. “It ain’t what it looks like. David just came over to fix my sink.” A different crow said aloud in what sounded like Sara’s voice. When the crows knew John wasn’t going to reply the ruffle of feathers and agitated screeches began to calm down.

John looked at the shattered and maimed body of David that lie strewn across the altar. He looked down at his own brain and blood stained clothes and wiped a piece of viscera from his cheek. “Then the people rejoiced, for that they offered willingly, because with perfect heart they offered willingly to the Lord.” John said his prayer and looked up and toward the paintings of righteous angels and holy martyrs. He looked back down to David’s body and smiled before adding “and David the king also rejoiced with great joy.”

#horror #short story #writing #OC #original chacter #John Hawthorne #creepy pasta #religious #crow #scary #David King #thriller

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emilyplaysotome · 6 years

Text

Chapter 22 - Game Over

Catch up on all Chapters here: http://emilyplaysotome.tumblr.com/post/173554646607/down-the-voltage-rabbit-hole-the-sequel-master

I burst into Meg’s apartment sobbing and closed her door behind me as I collapsed on the floor, bringing my knees to my chest as I cried.

“Naomi!”

She ran over to me, rubbed my back and held me as I sobbed, tenderly pushing back the stray hairs that fell into my face until I regained enough of my composure to follow her into the living room.

I was about to tell her everything that happened but was caught off guard by Partheno who was sitting on her couch looking a bit uncomfortable.

“Hey Naomi,” he said with a weak smile.

“I’m sorry,” I said through sniffles. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You’re not,” Meg said quickly.

“I was just saying goodbye,” Partheno said sadly.

“I’ll walk you out.”

“No, I can see myself out. Bye Meg. Bye Naomi.”

As Partheno walked past, I couldn’t help but notice a mark on his neck that hadn’t been there the other day. Even in my incredibly emotional state I waited for the door to close as the automatic lock clicked behind him before I blurted, “Meg…what did you do?”

“What? You’ve never given them one last time for posterity?”

I shook my head no, and the tears started up again.

It was ironic. All I’d wanted to do was share one last kiss with Zyglavis but I forced myself to honor my decision. I didn’t want to pull back and have to see him collapse in pain like the others had as the memories rushed back. I didn’t want to look him in the eyes as he remembered everything that had happened and how I’d let him down.

I worried that I wouldn’t be strong enough to say goodbye to him if he remembered us and looked at me in that way he once had.

Meg brought me a ginger ale and a box of tissues and continued to console me as I stayed curled up on the couch. I knew that this was the right decision but I didn’t understand why it was so hard if I knew it was for the best.

I hesitated so many times before finally sending the text that would end it all.

“I’ll be with you the whole way,” Meg said, taking my free hand in hers. “You can do this Naomi. Be brave.”

I gave her a weak nod, and sent it.

“Ladies,” the king said with a smirk. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“The game is over,” I said flatly. “It’s time to fix both our worlds.”

Never have I seen the king look as confused as he did in that moment. He started to speak, furrowed his brow, and then let out a chuckle.

“Is this a trick?”

“No trick. You’ve been watching, haven’t you?”

“I have indeed. I watched my old Minister of Punishments chase you for two blocks until he lost sight of you. I listened to his thoughts, confused as to how he could feel so much and remember so little. I’d thought this was another one of your brilliant schemes but…I am to believe you’re actually running away?”

“I’m not running away - I’m putting down the game.”

I could see the king was starting to get frustrated, “But why?! I - I watched you in my world and in this one. I know how attached to all of them you are. You’re…done? No, no! That’s not the game we’re playing my dear.”

I shrugged, the tears showing no signs of letting up.

“Then I suppose they’ll all just be here until the clock runs out.”

The king gaped in astonishment at me, finally at a loss for words. He pursed his lips and then suddenly snapped his fingers, filling Meg’s living room with every otome man left in this world save for two - Zyglavis and Leon.

Naturally there was a bit of a commotion at first, but the king snapped his fingers once more and I watched as the men all froze in place.

It was only 10 pm but Eisuke, Toma, Hijikata, and Shin were dressed for bed in boxers only. Jin must have been out at an event, as he was still in the dress shirt I’d seen him in, except now he was wearing the tie that had been folded on the corner of his desk and with a suit jacket. Hiroshi had most likely been out for a drink, and was in ripped jeans and a leather jacket. Partheno hadn’t gotten very far from Meg’s apartment and was there as well, looking dazed and just as forlorn as he’d been upon his departure.

“You’re really ready to give them all up?”

“Yes.”

The king shot me a challenging look, but I was too exhausted to even try to muster a feeling other than sadness.

Seeing them all that way, it felt as if I was looking at a bunch of robotic men - all of whom could be controlled by the snap of their lead programmer. The king snapped again and in a moment they were all in their proper otome outfits.

In that moment, I realized that their clothes were a symbol of how much they’d evolved and grown in this world. Their attire was a direct reflection of their individual preferences, and seeing that stripped away in an instant made me realize that the king was “resetting” them in a sense.

They’d soon be back to their factory settings.

Jin would be sleeping by that tree by the academy, having the same conversations and living the same life over and over again. He’d remember nothing of this little bird - just the one who was currently playing his game. Toshi and Shin were back in their Bakumatsu era clothes, void of their cell phones and gadgets they played with in the gym like any other modern man. Hiroshi ironically didn’t change much, but just enough for me to know that he’d soon be reunited with his friends in the 2nd unit, getting drinks from Agasa at Station instead of the watering hold he’d found in Queens.

The same went for Toma and Eisuke of course, but neither of them hit me as hard as the others.

Partheno was back in his Punishments uniform, and just before the king was about to say something he noticed the hickey on Partheno’s neck and with an eye roll snapped his fingers to get rid of it.

“Naomi Lee, I will ask you once more…it’s not too late to change your mind.”

“I’m sure.”

“They will forget you, you know.”

“I know.”

“The last time this happened, you were so mad. Well…the first time too,” the king said with a nostalgic chuckle.

“I was and if I’m being honest it makes me really sad, but I don’t see any other way. Consider it a gift as a thank you to the men who have done so much for me.”

“What did my men do for you?”

“They made being in love safe. They made me believe that I could be in love. They made me realize that there was nothing wrong with me - no reason why I’d be unable to find love in this world other than my own fears,” I said, the emotion picking up steam as I continued speaking. “That I want to be in love again and that…that…”

It was hard to breathe let alone speak through the sobs as the finality of what I was doing started sinking in. I was surprised to find myself being pulled against a strong chest, as the king wrapped his arms around me and stroked my hair as if I were a small child.

“There, there Goldfish. There, there,” he whispered above me.

Similar to the first time I’d touched the king, distance was created between my consciousness and my being. Whereas last time I’d seen the vastness of the universe and the burden of being the king, this time I felt myself floating in that vastness - being wrapped in the endless warmth of the universe. I felt love in a more pure and intense way than I ever had, as it held me tight and soothed my emotional unrest.

I found myself settle in his arms and when we parted it was the king who was shedding tears, almost as if he’d purposely taken away some of my burden to atone for having made my life so difficult in the past.

“I forget how pure the hearts of peasants are,” he said with a wry grin, wiping the tears away. “I can take your memories too if you’d like. If you feel that they are too painful.”

I shook my head.

“I would never give up these memories, no matter how bad the pain is. I can’t go back to who I was, as much as a part of me would like that. I have to try - for real this time.” “Then I wish you luck,” the king said extending his hand.

I shook it, and saw nothing more than the moment as it was.

He pulled back and snapped his fingers, and with that the men were gone.

“Do you want to say goodbye to Zyglavis?” He asked.

“I said goodbye tonight.”

“I don’t plan to wipe his memories. Goldfish are easy to reset but Gods…they’re much more difficult. Partheno is a demon, so he doesn’t count. When I return Lou will be next and because he is a Demi-God I don’t see there being a problem. Dui is so unhinged I plan to pretend that his shadow self made Meg up and once Partheno and Lou don’t remember, he’ll let it go. But Leon and Zyglavis…anything I do to them is temporary. Their memories will leak back. It’s an inevitability. So I ask again, do you want to say goodbye?”

This time, I nodded.

“Goodbye Naomi Lee. It was fun while it lasted,” the king said, and then snapped his fingers.

Zyglavis and I faced each other in the heavens.

It was night, and the sky was lit up by the stars. In the distance I saw the mansion from the games - the real mansion, not the replica on earth. We stood in a field, abloom with flowers I’d never seen in colors that my world doesn’t have names for.

I had only been to the earthly mansion during my time in the otome realm but I knew that I was finally in the presence of Zyglavis’ real home.

We stared at each other, the space between us in reality only a few feet yet I felt as if we might as well have been on opposite ends of the universe.

He looked at me in he way he did during the time we were happiest, and I felt my heart seize in my chest as only moments ago I’d been certain that I would never again experience that look from him. I can’t say for certain, but I’m fairly sure I returned his gaze in the way that revealed how happy I was to be looked at like that one last time.

Silence stretched out that felt familiar.

It felt like all those nights we’d spent in my apartment together, doing nothing but somehow happy and content. I think neither of us knew what to say, and so we stared at each other until my heart burst and I started to cry.

“Naomi,” he said softly, and gently brought me towards him. I nuzzled up against his punishments uniform and let him hold me one last time.

“I’m really going to miss you,” I said in a whisper.

“Me too.”

“I’m sorry for everything. I thought I could say goodbye so you wouldn’t have to remember but…”

“Naomi, no matter how hard this is, no matter how much pain I feel I’d feel even worse if I had to forget you.”

I looked up at him and questioned everything about why it was that I was letting him go. In that moment I felt nothing but love for him and a desire to go back to our ordinary, comfortable life together but time and fate had other plans and I knew it.

That’s the thing about life - you can only go forward, never back.

It was up to me to honor what Zyglavis and I had by finding happiness in my world, and I wanted the same for him as much as it hurt to think about.

“You’re a God again…”

“I am.”

“I want you to know that I loved you. That I always will. And that I want every day you live, long after I’m gone, to be filled with happiness.”

“I want that for you too.”

“Promise me.”

“What?”

“Promise me you’re going to try…with someone else. That you won’t use me as an excuse not to love anyone again.”

“Naomi…”

“Promise me that you’ll honor what we had by moving forward…I can’t live with the thought of anything else.”

My stoic Minister of Punishments pursed his lips, unhappy with my persistence but understanding my intention fully.

“I promise,” he finally said.

“Good.”

“I’m never going to love her as much as I love you, you know.”

“And I’m never going to love someone else the way that I loved you.”

A light breeze made the flowers dance around us, and as Zyglavis came closer I saw the stars in his eyes for the first time.

The sign of Libra.

The scales of justice.

It felt like the universe reminding me that I was doing the right thing.

He smiled at me with a softness I’d never seen in all our time together and said, “You know, I have watched you try so hard to be fair and good to everyone around you all the while being unfair to yourself. It’s ok to ask for help sometimes and if I’m not going to be there, promise me you’ll find someone who will be. Promise me you won’t settle for anything and anyone less than my Naomi deserves.”

“I promise.”

Another breeze rustled the flowers around us and was followed by another silence, as both of us stood there, not wanting to leave but knowing that this was it. As I’d done during dinner I did my best to burn this image into my memory - his dark hair back in a ponytail, his punishments uniform and gloves, the lines of his face and the stars in his eyes.

He was the one who finally broke the silence, removing his gloves and cupping my face in his hands, feeling my skin for the last time.

“Is this the part where we say goodbye?” he asked.

“Not goodbye. Until next time,” I lied, knowing there would be no next time but that I couldn’t bear to say goodbye to him.

He nodded, playing alone and said, “Until next time my love.”

I closed my eyes and he kissed me. I felt his lips on mine for one last time. I held him close and felt his warmth until the feeling faded away into nothing but the ordinary kind of darkness one feels with their eyes closed.

When they opened again, I was home in my bed and the clock on my side table read 12:21 AM.

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#please don't revolt #zyglavis #star crossed myth fanfic #star crossed myth fan fiction #Voltage fan fiction #voltage fanfic #voltage fandom #voltage games #voltage inc #voltage romance sims

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tallestsilver · 6 years

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001: "You're really soft." E/C

This was the second time Christine had come down deep into the cellars of the Opera House. She couldn’t quite remember the first time. No, that time was surreal, remembering it was remembering a long ago dream that one visits many times; each slightly different from the last, but with a lingering familiarity that one can’t quite place.

This was more steadfast and concrete. No hypnotism led to her arrival here, no half-truths. She was perched on the sofa in the sitting room, the air sparking with tension like an oncoming storm.

But why?

She couldn’t quite place it. Maybe since her imagined Angel of Music was a flesh and blood man everything had changed. Maybe because their current circumstances were just so… bizarre, she didn’t know what to expect.

Her fingers picked at the seam of the couch cushion, feeling the bumpy hem against the embroidered upholstery. Would Erik be in a foul mood, or had his disposition lightened since their last… debilitating encounter? She could not handle him screaming again; it was an awful sight, his ghastly visage wailing in a torment she couldn’t fathom; both agony and anger, directed at her.

Christine gave a small gasp as she realized her fingers were manipulating a downy cotton in the stead of the courser upholstery. She looked down at the small hole she had picked unthinkingly. She fluffed her petticoats to cover the imperfection and smoothed her skirts down just as Erik returned to the sitting room, tea tray in hand.She swallowed her nerves and offered him a small smile that did not reflect how she was truly feeling. She felt a stab of envy that he could hide so easily with his mask. He mercifully wore his white face-mask which was far less intimidating to her than his entirely black one. His eyes seemed more expressive. Perhaps the sockets of the mask where wider?

He set the tray down on the table in front of Christine, adjusting it ever so slightly. He sat on the opposite end in an armchair that did not quite match the rest of the furniture. Christine glanced around, trying to avoid Erik’s gaze, as he poured her tea silently.

As she looked at anything but him, she noticed something so quaintly peculiar: none of his furniture properly matched. Oh, certainly there was similar styling, but they were rather old fashioned and the mismatch seemed endearing.

That was the peculiarity above all else that unsettled her: Erik’s normalcy.

“Is something the matter?”

“No!” Christine was caught quite off guard as Erik broke the silence. She had visions of monsters in dank, cold cavernous tombs or amongst the catacombs with skeletons as housemates and decor. Terrifying spectral and toothsome creatures that craved blood and flesh living on steep mountaintops or deep down to drag victims to the depths. Erik had fit some macabre expectations of her wildest stories, and yet, diminished all of the fancifulness. She shook her head gently to shake those notions from her mind. “I was just thinking… how cozy your home is.”

Erik’s mask provided no change of emotion, even if he had one. His posture maintained its rigidity. His long fingers slipped into the teapot’s handle carefully -‘it even has a lace cozy’ and poured the liquid into Christine’s waiting cup. When he didn’t respond, she felt the need to elaborate in case he took her words as an insult.

“I mean to say, that is, I would not have assumed lace and florals to be your in your taste, nor pastels,” she stumbled trying to find the words without giving insult to what was surely an injury she had provided. Blush creeped along her face as she realized her honesty was fairly insulting, or could be taken as such. She did not know what sort of temperament Erik held, if he would even consider such remarks to be course and inappropriate. Or even worse, what his reaction would be.

Erik continued his measured silence as he poured himself a cup of the steaming tea.

“Everything here was once my Mother’s,” he said, matter-of-factly, “I suppose I never thought of redecorating. It just seemed more convenient this way.”

Christine released her breath in slight relief. “It does seem a little old fashioned,” she commented lightly, but stricken how brazen her words were. She raised her cup with its saucer to occupy her mouth so she wouldn’t embarrass herself further.Erik did not move to drink his tea. He sat, straight-backed, hands on his knees, staring at Christine. “Indeed.”

Christine sank deeper against the sofa, clutching the saucer and cup with her hands. Guilt stabbed at her. Why did she have these intrusive thoughts about Erik? He was just a normal man, after all. No, nothing about Erik was normal. They were five stories underneath an opera house for God’s sake. She sipped her tea, only to find it still too hot. She held it to her lips, blowing profusely on the steam that drifted towards her. The coolness of his gaze was piercing, and she felt terribly childish. His penetrating eyes were unyielding in their judgement and she hastily placed her cup back on her saucer the on the table with a small clink. She cleared her throat and looked to the fireplace, flickering with warmth.“And what would you think my fashioned style would be?”

The Voice returned and Christine’s shoulders eased down into a more relaxed state. Erik’s Voice curled around her and the dancing fire provided a soothing distraction.

“It is difficult to say,” Christine said softly, her voice leaving her body without her realizing it. She was captivated by the emergence of the Voice as well as the fire. She could see shapes emerging from the flames; shapes that merged into forms as they licked against the wood and brick of the fireplace.

Erik brought his teacup to his mask, carefully tilting it up to take a sip of the darkly steeped liquid. Despite his mouth being occupied, his voice still murmured in her ear. “You have more of a vibrant imagination than that. Tell me, Christine, how did you originally imagine my home?”

The fire’s glow along with Erik’s soothing voice entranced Christine, the light reflecting in her blue eyes. As the fire flickered, the shapes turned into a lord and lady, bowing before each other and dancing around the charring wood. Wisps of smoke flowed off of them as they began their promenade. They swirled in the warm haze, casting their spell over Christine.

“Heaven,” Christine said, barely above a whisper, “white marble and gilded edges, with puffy white clouds all around,” she sank deeper into the folds of the sofa, warm contentment spreading over her body. Something in her voice felt like something was left unsaid.“And then-?” Erik leaned closer to her, his hands grasping his knees, his body rigid and demanding. She didn’t notice, her gaze never faltering from the fire. A particularly large flame licked towards her. She saw Jörmungandr, the serpent of Midgard, break free from its tail and swallowed the dancing couple. “Hel, A tomb,” she mumbled, “or a cave perhaps.” The fire hummed and crackled as it began devouring itself. “Lots of black, and bats…. And spiders and skulls-” she gasped and clamped her hands over her mouth as she realized what she said. Christine looked to Erik fearfully, afraid of how he would react with his Death’s head. His grip on his knees released and he sat quietly in his seat. “E-erik, I didn’t mean that, you know I didn’t, it just slipped out, I don’t know what had come over me-” Christine stammered, trying to rectify the situation.

To her shock, Erik simply began to laugh.

His laugh began slow and quiet, sending chills down her spine, until it escalated to where he was almost yelling. Christine nervously laughed along, casting a sideways glance over to the front door of his house. A long, gloved finger slipped behind his mask and wiped a tear from his eye.

“You are far more astute than most people give you credit for, my dear,” Erik replied coolly, unfurling to his full height. Christine clutched at the couch and tried to swallow her fear when he approached her.

Erik uncurled his gloved hand to her, and she wearily took it, as he helped her to her feet. Her legs did not seem to want to work, preferring to stay stationary, as Erik lead her to an area she dared not spy: his room.“Erik, please, I’m sorry, I did not mean anything by it-” her voice quavered as he stood behind her, hands on her shoulders as he propelled her forward.“Tut, tut my dear!” He exclaimed, “Erik knows how curious you women are!” They stood at the threshold of his room and he loomed from behind her, his hand grasping hers to make her open the door. “We wouldn’t want to have another experience like last time, do we?” A touch of sinister malice dripped from his voice. Christine stood helplessly, feeling like a doll as he controlled her arm. She whimpered in response.

“No!” He answered for her, “Erik will not have that! His Christine wept such horrid tears, that Erik will show her instead!” He pressed his hand against hers on the handle, the leather feeling no longer smooth, but unyieldingly false. Her hung limply and she shook her head.“No, no, please Erik, I don’t want this I-”

He sneered at her pleas and flung the door open with a triumphant flourish. She shut her eyes and bumped against his bony chest. “I’m sorry Erik, I didn’t mean to-”

“So much of the world ‘never meant to-’” he sneered. He gripped her harshly, unable to relish the fact she was trying to seek comfort against him in a minimal way. He spun her back around to face her fate and shoved her forward.

Christine gasped, clutching her arms around her chest, terrified of what Erik might do now that they were in his room. She could never assume his underlying intentions. He strode in past her, the entirety of his bedroom shrouded in shadows, as he moved toward a wall to illuminate the gas lamp.

Harsh, choking sobs spilled out from Christine as she tried to hold them back, when she felt the glow of the lamp. She opened her eyes to find continued blackness. Her eyes had to adjust that, no, the lights were on, just everything was black or a deep crimson. Curtains draped around the entirety of the room. The canopy made it feel very intimate enclosed, but entirely luxurious. Bedside tables were intricately carved in a black wood that Christine could not place, but she did see images of woven spiders and bones. She swallowed her fear as she took tentative steps inward, in awe at the splendor of Erik’s room. A large armoire, no doubt holding his variety of suits, had a death’s head with angel rings jutting out tastefully. Her heart skipped a beat as the detailings of the macabre were at every turn. Erik stood in the doorframe, his shadow spilling into the room, as he watched her reaction. She ventured forth, inspecting all the intricacies that either took an extraordinarily large amount of work or payment for such creations.

An organ was situated against a wall, with depictions of Hell and demons at its base. Christine even spied a three-headed dog with victims of the Underworld in its biting jaws while swirls of fire licked at skeletons.

Her breaths came out in harsh pants. Christine did have a fascination with the macabre, and she was torn between horror and admiration. One thing she was curious about, where was Erik’s bed?She moved towards the middle of the room, where it should have been, to find something hidden with blankets and cloth. She took one corner of the dark satin - some of the finest she had ever felt- and stripped it away from what it was hiding. It slithered away onto the floor as she gasped in shock.

A coffin, cold and foreboding, lay before her, raised on a platform to present itself as a horrific imitation of a bed. Its wood was matte black, the lid raised to reveal its satin cushion interior, which all things considered looked rather full and soft. It was creased and worn, showing signs of use, only able to fit one body.

Christine’s eyes rolled instantly to the back of her head as blackness consumed her vision. She crumpled down as her legs gave way, and Erik instantly caught her as she fainted.

Erik’s temper had instantly cooled as he held the lifeless Christine in his arms.“Foolish child,” he murmured, his heart aching as he considered he had done this to her. Her pale skin was now stark white, her lips even losing their rosy hue. He scooped her up in his arms, carrying her over to her own private room.“This is why you must never pry into Erik’s horrid life,” he murmured softly to her as he brushed against the button to open her door and slid inside. “It is too gruesome for you. You deserve sweetness, kindness and-” he maneuvered her in his arms as he pulled back the downy covers of her pastel bedding, “everything I cannot give you…” He delicately placed her down on her bed, removing her shoes very carefully so not to disturb her. He covered her unconscious body with blankets and leaned in to kiss her head softly. Before his lips could make their mark, he stopped himself. “I will try, Christine,” he vowed to her sleeping form, “I will move heaven and earth to try and be the man you deserve. You are so gentle, so kind, it makes me want to be a better man, to be a proper suitor for one such as yourself.” He straightened up, knowing he could not kiss her, not like this, but instead brushed a delicate golden curl away from her face. Even through his gloved hands, he sighed.“You are really soft.”

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skarletterambles · 6 years

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I saw The Last Jedi!

Loved it. Definitely want to see it again.

Spoilers below.

[Disclaimer: These are my opinions. You don’t have to agree with me, just respect that I arrived at my conclusions after sincere consideration. Don’t interact if you’re going to start drama or flame me for liking Ben Solo’s character and his bond with Rey. I’m not interested in arguing, which is why I haven’t dared participate in this fandom before.]

The Good:

Pretty much everything. The SFX, the music, the cinematography, the costumes, everything was a treat for the senses.

The humor! I laughed a lot at this movie. Often the jokes were in the middle of a serious/dramatic scene, yet didn’t feel out of place.

The porgs were even cuter than I thought they would be, and used in just the right amounts. I wonder what Chewie named his new sidekick... I also noticed a porg standing on top of R2-D2 in the final scene, and it rotated as R2 turned his head. LMAO! The audience went nuts during the campfire scene with Chewie, both laughing and going “AWWWWW!”

I liked Rose. She was sympathetic and strong, sweet and brave. It was also really cool to see an actress of southeast Asian heritage in a major movie. I grew up in a predominately white Midwestern city where Hmong immigrants are the largest minority, and I had many friends growing up who looked like Rose. I’m so happy for them to get this kind of representation!

I loooooovvvvvved the way Snoke met his end. Having Ben turn and ignite the heirloom lightsaber like that was brilliant. The fight with the guards that followed was beautifully choreographed and demands multiple viewings to fully appreciate.

Hux was fun in his petty, pompous, unapologetic evilness. I look forward to him butting heads with Ben in the next movie. The snark exchanged between them in the final battle on Crait was priceless. (That look Ben gave him when Hux parroted the same orders! LMAO!) I like the idea of him being the main antagonist going forward, especially because he’s not a Force user. He’s just a power hungry douchebag. That’s a nice change of pace.

Mark Hamill acted his heart out, and oh my, the results were worth it. I know some fans aren’t happy with the darker, more jaded turn his character took, but A.) it made total sense, given what he’d gone through, and B.) Hamill knocked it out of the park. No complaints from me. Also, I thought it was a fitting sendoff for his character. The double sunset was a callback to his intro in A New Hope, and the music was spot-on. Plus it’s almost a given that he’ll show up as a Force Ghost at some point, so his role isn’t necessarily over.

I was proud to pick up on the fact that Luke wasn’t physically on Crait early in the confrontation with Ben. There was a shot where you clearly saw the salty ground turn red when Ben swept his foot around to get into fighting stance, and then we saw Luke make a similar move and the ground didn’t change color. I spotted that and was instantly like, “Force shenanigans are afoot!” (Foot pun accidental.)

The flashbacks to Ben’s last night at Luke’s temple were shocking, but I liked them. You can totally see why Ben reacted as he did, and you can also see how the fallout affected Luke. Neither were totally right or wrong: Luke was wise to worry about the darkness in his nephew, and Ben had every right to be horrified and angry at having his own uncle betray him like that. It was just unfortunate all around, but it all makes so much sense!

Like the vision Rey had in TFA after finding Luke’s lightsaber, her trippy experience in the Dark Side’s cave is one of those scenes that is going to take many viewings to even begin to comprehend, and which probably won’t be clear until the end of the trilogy. I just have to say that the last silhouette looked an awful lot like Ben...

Cool the Yoda scene was. ;) A little shit he is.

I liked the little alien nuns on the island. Their justified dislike of Rey was a great running gag, and they expressed so much without dialog.

Carrie Fisher was great, of course, and I’m glad they chose not to alter her role at all after her passing. It would have been relatively easy to do, since they already had all that footage of Leia in a coma in the medical bay. They could have simply had her escape from her space walk without any ill effects (hey, it’s the Force, right?) and then get caught in a cave-in later on, or something. But they kept to the original script, and I really think it was the right call. This was the movie she made, the role as she wanted to play it, the script as she approved it. The next movie will have a huge hole without her, but they have time to figure out how to do her legacy justice. (I admit I am very disappointed that we’ll never get a mother/son reunion when Ben is redeemed, though.)

I looked for her dog, Gary, who apparently had a cameo in the casino scene, but I couldn’t spot him. Very busy scenes with a ton going on and lots of movement, so I’m not surprised that I missed him.

Ben Solo. I’m just going to call him that now. He didn’t object when Rey called him that, and it is his true name. Whatever you call him, however, he remains a fascinating character: volatile, self-loathing, short-tempered, lost, broken, lonely, searching, ruthless, conflicted... Adam Driver is amazing with the depth and breadth of emotions he can convey without a single word.

The clear parallels between the way Ben asked Rey to join him in ruling the galaxy and the way Darcy first proposed marriage to Elizabeth Bennett were delicious. “Your family is disgraceful but I love you anyway” is not the way to win a lady’s affections. Better luck next time, Benny boy.

Now I’m going to drop out of bullet points to talk about the bantha in the room: Reylo. I didn’t outright ship it after my first viewing of The Force Awakens, but I was intrigued by the connection I saw between those two characters. In the two years since, I’ve read a lot of brilliant meta that analyzed their characters, drawing from literature, psychology, the classics, fairy tales, etc. It took me back to my days as an English major in college, and I saw a lot going on beneath the surface that led me to believe their relationship was going to be the linchpin on which the rest of the trilogy would turn. After The Last Jedi I think it’s safe to say that’s absolutely correct.

I know the ship is the target for vehement hatred in certain corners of the internet, this site included. All I can say is that if I saw an abusive relationship, or believed that Ben Solo is truly a fascist at heart, or felt that Rey was in any way being stripped of her agency, I wouldn’t ship it. But I never saw it that way, and after a long time spent thinking, reading meta, and rewatching TFA, (and certainly after watching TLJ) I am even more convinced that they are equals and opposites, orbiting around each other in a fascinating dynamic that I expect to turn overtly romantic by the end of the trilogy.

They started out as enemy combatants on opposite sides of a war. So yes, there was violence. They both harmed each other. People condemn him for Force-throwing her into a tree, but rarely mention that he did that because she was aiming a blaster at his head, and he had every reason to expect her to use it. Two wrongs don’t make a right, but neither do these interactions suggest they would be violent toward each other in the context of a relationship.

The TFA interrogation scene was not analogous to rape, unless you believe that Luke, Obi-Wan, and other Jedi heroes are all (mind-)rapists, too. And again, Rey gave as good as she got. She turned it around and invaded his mind, exposing his fears and insecurities. Right after, she used the Force to override the will of the nearest Stormtrooper. No one points fingers at her for mind-rape. The double standard among some in the fandom leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Either Ben and Rey are both violent mind-invaders who hurt each other, or they’re both enemy combatants in a war who are slowly coming to realize that they’ve been wrong about their places in the universe.

Also, compare Rey’s interrogation with Poe’s. Poe was bleeding and clearly tortured. Rey was restrained but not physically harmed. Of course it wasn’t pleasant, because, again, enemy combatants in a freaking war. She was a prisoner, she had intel the First Order wanted, so yeah, an interrogation was going to happen, and it wasn’t going to be happy happy fun times. But characters in these movies get their minds read and manipulated quite often, and it’s never treated as some of kind horrible trauma.

I’m not saying the way they interacted in TFA was healthy, but it laid the foundation for something truly fascinating going forward. To have an epic redemption arc, you need a character who has something to be redeemed for. If Ben was an angel from the beginning there wouldn’t be a story to tell. If Rey hadn’t experienced his darkness first-hand, she couldn’t understand what he’s battling to overcome.

And now, in TLJ, Rey has complete agency over her interactions with Ben. She chose to ask him questions, to try to understand his motivations. She chose to reach out her hand to him through their Force Bond. She chose to come to him on Snoke’s ship. She chose to reject his offer to rule the galaxy together. She chose to leave without harming him when he lay unconscious. She chose to shut the door to break their current Force Bond connection at the end. She offered to help him, showed him compassion, tried to lead him down a better path, but did not cave in when he balked.

He did not harm her. He killed Snoke to protect her, when he couldn’t work up the courage to do it for his own sake. Even when facing multiple Praetorian guards at once, he still looked to see how she was faring in the battle. They fought together, back to back, as if they’d been doing it for years. He let her call him “Ben” without protesting. He asked her to stay with him, to rule beside him! He wanted to forge a new future for the galaxy with her as his partner! He said please!

And best of all, they are avoiding the hackneyed, sexist trope of “the love of a good woman pulled the man’s lost soul back to the light.” She offered to help him and he refused. And she was like, “Fair enough. If you change your mind, well...Force Bond. You know how to reach me.” The ball is in Ben’s court, as it should be. For his redemption to be meaningful, he has to work for it himself. He has to want it. He has to realize the error of his ways and strive to be better. It can’t be a matter of his soul mate waving a magic wand and purifying his heart. She is the light at the end of the tunnel, showing him what direction he should go in, but every step along the way will be through his own effort.

Rey wouldn’t take the hand of Supreme Leader Kylo Ren. She made it clear that she will only welcome Ben Solo into her arms, and that is the far wiser, healthier choice. (Basically, Rey agrees with the anti-shippers who think it would be a horrible idea for her to pair up with Kylo. Let that sink in for a moment! Heh.) Now it’s up to him who he wants to be.

It’s fascinating to watch, and heartbreaking to see the long, difficult road ahead of him. But all those messages about hope, especially the ones coming from Ben’s mother herself, are there for a reason. (And it seemed to me that Luke had renewed hope for Ben at the end. He wouldn’t have tried to teach him one final lesson otherwise, nor become One With The Force feeling peaceful.)

So yes, I ship Reylo as the yin and yang, push and pull, light and dark, two lost souls searching for their place in the universe. They both have to grow and mature before they can have a stable relationship (remember, it’s all about balance), but the potential is most definitely there. If someone else genuinely interprets their relationship differently and doesn’t like what they see, that’s fine. But after a sincere effort to weigh multiple viewpoints, this is the conclusion that I have come to. I reiterate: if I saw their relationship as a toxic, abusive one, I wouldn’t ship it.

So don’t condemn me for enjoying sardines on my pizza when I honestly do not see, smell or taste any sardines. All my senses tell me that I’m enjoying a pepperoni pizza. If you don’t like pepperoni, that’s okay, nobody’s forcing you to eat it, and you can just leave me alone to enjoy my damn pizza.

All right? All right.

Moving on!

The Bad:

Finn did a lot of running around but not much developing as a character. There’s so much potential with a stormtrooper-turned-rebel, and his insider knowledge did help at times, but I would have liked a bit more insight into his thoughts and feelings.

I wasn’t really feeling the chemistry with Finn and Rose. That kiss was seriously awkward. I didn’t hate the pairing, and I did like Rose as a character, but I thought their relationship was rushed. Maybe they’ll dial it back a notch in the next movie, chalk it up to a hasty confession blurted in the heat of battle, and then build back up to it. Or maybe Finn will tell her he likes her, but not that way. I don’t know. Poe has a major crush on Finn, though, and I hold to that headcanon.

The self-sacrifice theme got a little bit overdone. Paige Tico, Admiral Holdo, Finn (unsuccessfully, thank goodness), and (arguably) Luke. It’s a powerful idea, but best used sparingly.

Phasma remained one-dimensional. I had really hoped she would get more fleshed out, but it was not to be. At least Gwen got a chance to act with one eye out of the helmet for a moment. :p Oh well, it frees her up to concentrate on filming all that Jaime/Brienne awesomeness on Game of Thrones. ;)

Benicio Del Toro’s codebreaker character was kind of a non-entity. He popped up, did his thing, and then left. No strong feelings about him either way. The whole plot of needing a codebreaker felt a little weak, to be honest. Finn and Rose could have needed some Macguffin that required a trip to Canto Bight, brought it back, used it, and still gotten caught, and the result would have been the same. Maybe there’d even have been time to do more with Finn’s character development...

R.I.P. Admiral Ackbar. It wasn’t a trap, but you died all the same.

I was a little surprised to see Admiral Holdo killed off so soon (albeit in a spectacular fashion--you could have heard a pin drop in the theater during that silent, slow-mo explosion). Her screen time went by so fast that I had trouble figuring her character out until I was able to think about what happened later on. And honestly I’m still not sure how I feel about her.

The Ugly:

Snoke. In every way possible. Good riddance.

Green alien milk, fresh from the udder. Ewwwwwwwwww.

Anyway, this is a ridiculously long post, and I’ve been working on it (off and on) for over 24 hours, so I’m going to shut up now. I may edit later if I think of something I just have to add.

#Star Wars #Last Jedi spoilers #Reylo

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beacon-ias · 3 years

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Instructions to Choose BEST IAS coaching centre from top 10 IAS coaching in India

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Of late, many unreliable establishments have mushroomed, professing to be outstanding. Such organizations draw understudies by offering less expensive charges, inadequate inn convenience and utilizing different contrivances like contribution limits, grants dependent on placement test score and so on However, such foundations are more similar to educational cost class aggregators, with no space mastery or experience. One should be careful about these. You ought to consistently stay worried about your essential necessity of getting quality training in an understudy well disposed climate. No other factor is as significant.

3. Sort of Courses Offered: Albeit the majority of the organizations offer practically same sort of courses for example on Broad Examinations and Discretionary Subjects, the significant perspective to check is term of courses, timings of classes, accessibility of experienced staff explicitly for Discretionary Subject of your decision, support reached out to the understudies even after fruition of the course.

4. Understudy Instructor Proportion: This is a critical factor which ought to be delegated a Vital Factor in settling on a choice. This standard ought to be superseding different variables. Recollect in our school days, prior to putting/moving us in another school, our folks used to ask about No of understudies in a single area!! The sole explanation was to check if their youngster will stand out enough to be noticed in class. This perspective is significantly more relevant for a Common Administrations training foundation. Reason – a portion of the organizations have cluster size of 500 or more understudies! Clearly the plan there is exploitative as it were. Such huge strength of understudies is obliged in dinner corridor estimated auditoriums where even eye to eye connection between an understudy and instructor is unimaginable. In such a case, washout is only one-the Understudy.

Do check for group size and instructor understudy proportion while settling on the decision. Preferably, a group size ought not be more than 100.

5. Nature of Study hall instructing: Especially significant! The fact of the matter is that acceptable instructors can change understudies completely from non-masterminds to extreme scholars. Presence of educators in the workforce who had themselves, eventually of time, showed up for UPSC assessments or have filled in as Government employees is consistently an or more for the foundation just as for the understudies.

A legend which for the most part understudies have is that an educator who has been educating for more number of years is superior to an instructor who is nearly youthful and less experienced. This isn't really obvious. The opposite see is that youthful instructors are more refreshed, more technically knowledgeable to utilize showing helps and are stronger to rapidly acclimatize changes, which could be in schedule, test design, stamping plan and so forth There is just a single meaning of a decent educator and that is – A decent instructor is the person who can make troublesome subject look simple.

6. Nature of Study Material: Much the same as nature of homeroom educating, the nature of study material is likewise significant. All things considered, when the classes are finished, your dependence for reference would be on your notes and the examination material. A decent establishment will have study material which does the trick the necessity of understudies. In Common Administrations test arrangements, tremendousness of schedule and continually developing nature of current segment of prospectus are two significant difficulties. Furthermore, to entangle this further, is the issue of bounty. With such a large amount of study material and assets accessible in market and on the Net, an understudy will undoubtedly get suffocated in its endlessness. A decent instructing foundation with its examination material asset will empower an understudy to maintain the concentration and to perceive about what to consider, how to contemplate and from where to consider.

7. Understudy's Exhibition Assessment: out of top 10 IAS coaching in India have various approaches to screen the presentation of their understudies. They lead week by week or month to month or quarterly tests to determine an understudy's perception. Presently a day the majority of the establishments offer tests in on-line and disconnected modes too. Those organizations which offer adaptability to their understudies in picking the modes are unquestionably better.

While shortlisting establishments, attempt to know the arrangement of execution observing in whole. A portion of the organizations don't have any arrangement of directing tests or if at all tests are led, they are taken as an issue of routine where similar tests are offered drearily to all clumps or tests are not according to UPSC standards. One should consequently go into these subtleties as well.

8. Accessibility of good regulatory foundation: Envision yourself sitting in a class without cooling or air coolers on a common 44 degree Delhi day. Anyway great an instructor is, you are very far-fetched to absorb whatever educator conveys. Hence, accessibility of well lit and very much broadcasted classes, happy with guest plan, accessibility of current instructing helps like overhead projectors, sound framework and so forth are imperative piece of authoritative foundation of a decent establishment. One should likewise search for accessibility of clean drinking water and great sterile sterilization offices in the organization. Obviously, just a sound body and a solid brain is open to learning new things.

A dependable and grounded instructing organization will consistently urge understudies to see their study halls, guest plans and other foundation.

9. Capacity and readiness of Foundation to advance in its instructional method: You should know that now a days test leading bodies like UPSC ceaselessly change the example of inquiry papers. The point is to choose the meriting and the best. To do this, more current strategies to test the IQ are routinely being presented. Negative checking, Cognizance type questions, HOTS (Higher Request Thinking Abilities) questions are not many of such measures. Any organization deserving at least moderate respect should rapidly fuse such changes in its educational program and find ways to keep understudies side by side with the example of test.

Subsequently, before at long last settling on your decision, attempt to perceive whether the establishment consistently corrects its procedures to mentor understudies. Does it hold shock tests, challenge meetings and non-traditional tests?

10. Various Focuses:

(a) One should check about driving chance to the organization. Time is too valuable to ever be lost in venturing out forward and backward. In the event that the foundation has great network through Metro Rail and Transport Administrations, it is an or more. Area of instructing establishment is in this way significant.

(b) Accessibility of study room/Library inside the organization resembles a gem in the crown. One can use the office in any event, when there are no classes booked. In the event that you have arrived at ahead of schedule, on the off chance that you need to return late, in the event that you need to clear questions from your companions, this is THE Spot. To give this office a few organizations charge extra expense, some have the office however its found away from where classes are held. So in the event that you can discover an organization with in-house study room/library, that is a worth expansion.

(c) Accessibility of personnel after classes to get questions free from understudies ought to be non-debatable to everybody. Nowadays educators will in general get instructing at different foundations and surge from establishment A to B quickly on culmination of class. This is unsettling to those understudies who need to meet educators after the class to explain questions, take prompt and so forth A foundation which has accessibility of workforce consistently is a victor.

(d) Last however not the least, likewise check about fire wellbeing measures and firefighting plans which are there set up in the establishment. At the point when you join an organization, acclimate yourself with emergency exit courses. Considering helpless wellbeing history of instructing establishments, this issue is significant.

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