#it's like they took a huge turn on how they wanted to portray gabriel | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

familyagrestefanblog · 2 years

Text

Me rambling about Adriens catastrophical looses in his civilian life in the season 4 finale Episodes

My heart will never stop bleeding for how God damn much Adrien lost in season 4 and how terribly little he has left at the end of "Strike back".

When the season ends he wasn't even allowed to settle his escalating burning family situation regarding the world trip in "Strike Back" which means Adrien still very much stands in danger of being send away as a civilian and the last remaining good will of his estranged, abusive father who turned outright antagonistic towards him in "Risk" when Adrien said he didn't wanted to go by challenging asking him "is there a problem Adrien?" is probably now gone in his eyes too because too much time passed. Abusive parents run on Time Windows and so does Gabriel as a father, he always has, and my GOD the entire season 4 finale sets off every possible red alert within my grew-up-in-an-abusive-household-brain.

That shit wasn't remotely resolved even though Chat Noir wasn't in anyway needed in the Strike Back battle since Ladybug has 15 other teammates and just officially declared him on the same status as the other temporary heros in "Risk". If there was one battle in the history of Miraculous where Chat Noir didn't need to be there it was the beginnings Strike Back battle. Him staying on the battle field anyway for no actual reason after Ladybug (understandably) shot down his immediate attempt to end the battle quickly (seriously, Adrien wanted to get this OVER with so he can talk to his father in the beginning)

wasn't putting duty before heart, that was recklessly sacrificing his entire civilian life and future for a situation that didn't require him being involved at the beginning. This was neither necessary nor selflessly heroic. How many people are indirectly and directly involved in everything the Agrestes business does and therefore will be affected when that household starts completely breaking apart? "Risk" even explicitly pointed out through Bob Roth directly that the world trip project is huge and EXPENSIVE. This is not me making up reasons, the narrative this time explicitly pointed out the money factor that is a main driving force in business of any kind (ngl for some reason the fact that the Gabriel business is now suddenly being treated more like a BUSINESS on a global scale with more of the factors of what business is real life actually IS and not just some vague plot device the way it was treated til now, makes me very excited for season 5 lol)

Good to know that Adriens suicidal/ self harming tendencies are still going about their destructive ways, strong and disastrous, just now in ways that don't bother Ladybug anymore at the end of the season. It's interesting that Adriens suicidal tendencies ended up being portrayed at the end in EXACTLY the way I feared it would happen after "Lies". Adrien not taking care of his burning civilian life in "Strike Back" is NOT Duty over heart. This will never ever be duty over heart.

Just the two finale Episodes alone are breaking my heart in how much Adrien just directly lost right there as a civilian.

His relationship with his cousin Félix, with whom he once was really close with in the past, is now officially dead, he had to say goodbye to all of his friends in school and is now officially not attending anymore because in "Risk" his own father took fucking LILAS side over his because of a longer lasting, expensive business project. This at the same time makes it also painfully clear what Gabriel would do if Adrien were to ever tell him he doesn't want to be part of the Gabriel brand in his future - his father would just fucking play the entire system against him and force him anyway, and since business is more than just a family matter it can't just be as easily solves as the other characters in the finale Episodes make it out to be.

Adrien also knows that because of Félix not having kept word both Nathalie and the Gorilla aren't around either to possibly, MAYBE have the chance of them taking his side in this and help him. Although he wouldn't know what Nathalie would think of all of this and him, especially concidering that Adrien knows it'll inevitably come to light that Félix let Adrien know that he tricked Nathalie to get into the mansion and then Adrien even agreed on letting Félix try to trick Gabriel too. And of course, the one taking the punishments in this would be Adrien for Gabriel and not Félix since Adrien is his son and should be "better" than this. This is such a fucking disaster, I'm anxious just thinking about what went down in that finale and the narrative hasn't at all focused on yet because that's for season 5 to deal with, as basically 95% of it. Adrien just has... hardly anything left or genuinely to turn to for help and support when the ending Ladynoir scene plays.

He cannot involve his friends in this because he either thinks/knows they don't actually understand his problem or see it as one either or knows Gabriel would immediately shut it down, declare them bad influences for good and Adrien will never have the chance to return back to school ever. And Ladybug he cannot ask or talk to because now all the miraculous were stolen and are in Hawkmoths hands and she just had a full blown panic attack and break down in front of him twice.

Putting the rest under “read more” because It’ll become too long

I would like to say I'm surprised that Chat Noir is so calm, confident and content in the end when he stares down Hawkmoth for Ladybug, finally let's her talk without making excuses for her, picks her up to give her new confidence and changing his using "you and me again the world" into "you, the best superhero who has ever lived. Them, the people of Paris. And me, you loyal teammate" without even looking at her when he talks about his place.

I would like to say that I'm surprised concidering how hard Adriens civilian life just went down in flames the same way Ladybug thought she lost everything by loosing the miraculous, but honestly? I'm not.

For Adrien Chat Noir has been sice day 1 a way to get a break from his civilian life, breath and regain strength to deal and try to handle it. I always liked though that this wasn't used by the narrative as the usual "lonely rich kid gets a secret identitiy to get the life their always wanted and ditched their real life responsibilities, family and friends", Adrien legitimately ALWAYS wanted to remain Adrien Agreste too and find happiness with what he was given. He didn't transform all the time into Chat Noir to make 1000 friends where he can't as Adrien, he isn't trash talking people he doesn't like or tries to solve private problems as Chat Noir. Adriens character concept since day 1 made this path possible to take his character on but they never did it and for that I'm eternally grateful but at the same time I also wished he did it when I now look at how utterly alone Adrien is rendered as both himself and Chat Noir in season 4 and especially with what the ever loving hell the finale did to this poor boys life completely out of his control.

Cause I just watch Chat Noir in the last Ladynoir scene and I wouldn't even be remotely surprised if this is Adrien just being... content and also relieved to kinda start moving on from being Adrien Agreste. Just, embracing the option of leaving all of that behind because my GOD that boy has nothing but a burning trap of his life left that is waiting to snap and swallow him the moment he gets near his father from his perspective. If I were Adrien and had the chance to run through a secret identity, I would have run. Can't possibly blame him here if that's where this is going.

I already mentioned it before but every Agreste family member involved in the finale is actually on the same page about one thing: Adrien ran away and no one knows where he is when the season ends because Adrien has never actually officially returned back home. It is questionable how much Nathalie knows at ALL of what happened besides Adrien having vanished from the train and Gabriel letting the phone fall to the ground when she tells him. Gabriel knows more as the phone call with Nathalie happenes at the same time as Félix revealing himself to him, which connected quickly explains 'Adrien' weird behavior that day in Gabriels eyes which gets immediately confirmed by the rest of their conversation.

Even Félix knows Adrien ran away to let him take over but then send him a message that he would return back home but then didn't meet Adrien in person again. It's honestly kinda bizarre to see Félix casual bring up telling Adrien about Emilies portrait as a threat towards Gabriel as if Adrien would still believe a single word he says, which in turn makes Gabriel think that Félix knows where Adrien is and therefore that's not too big of a problem he needs to take care of right now especially when he later acceps the damn ring back from Félix, while both of them have absolutely no damn clue what the hell Adrien actually DID the entire time

For all it is, this is a picture perfect set up to have Father and Son find out each other's secrets in the beginning of season 5 and Adrien just... seriously leaving Adrien Agreste behind for a while and not returning back home. No one in his civilian life would notice something is up for the next months because he isn't expected to be there! Once again the same way as Marinette having been the only one of the school friends who knows that Adrien isnt happy, only Ladybug having met Adrien when her yo-yo was stolen is the only proof anyone has that Adrien was still in Paris at that time and even that can easily be turned around through Félix existence. In 5x05 have Gabriel/Hawkmoth give Lila the damn Fox Miraculous for the World Trip purpose and she has that shit covered too!

God DAMNIT I can't believe how hard the season 4 finale basically left Adrien with hardly anything left and just... didn't focus on it?? I mean, I get it, thats what season 5 is for and all of this has nothing to do with wrapping up season 4, Marinettes season. But STILL??!?? DUDE???????

Season 5 episode 1 is said to pick up exactly where season 4 left us off and that is fucking horrifying concidering what the fuck just went down in the Agreste family??? Just because the narrative didn't focus on it yet because something else needed to be wrapped up doesn't mean any of this didn't happen?

And you know whats the worst about all of this? This incorperates quite a few fates Marinette almost met but now Adrien is the one actually having to go suffer through them instead:

1. In “gang of secrets” I think we all agreed it was BAD that Marinette planned on only being Ladybug because of how stressed she was. Yeah, that hasnt suddenly turned less horrible just because its now Adrien instead because shit has gone to such extremes for him as a civilian that him starting to leave Adrien behind is more of a relieve to him on the immediate surface level than bad (which is absolutely will turn into real quick no doubt!). This is literally a HORRIBLE event happening to a 14 year old, no matter how necessary this step is in the narrative, how happy and relieved he looks in the moment of accepting the option of running (which is also something we should have already agreed on by now) in the last scene of a season HIS life isnt about or how much Marinette benefits from it here and deserves support. It doesnt matter. This is beyond horrible and the fact that Adrien looks calm and content here doesnt make it better, thats actually so much worse. This is fucking AWFUL. Just clarifying all of this.

2. Also in “Gang of secrets” Marinette almost lost all of her civilian friends and she was only saved from it by telling Alya her secret identity who then helped her managing it again.... Adrien just had to say goodbye to all of his school friends because of Lila the second Fox besides Alya and lost the weak support system he had left even though he confined in Marinette the way she did with Alya. Bless Marinettes heart here she TRIED everything she could to help him but unfortunatly Adriens civilian life is by a HUNDRET million miles not as easy to course correct as Marinettes (by which I only mean the public civilian life of course). Also... lets not forget that Luka KNOWS Adrien is Chat Noir and that the Gabriel Brand world trip is gonna put Adrien is ALOT of trouble on an extreme level absolutely NO ONE can help him with in Adriens eyes.... and Luka just did nothing the entire finale. Even though the finale is a direct thematic follow up for “Wishmaker”

3. In “Ladybug” Lila got Marinette suspended from school, which Adrien undid by making Lila get Marinette back into school when she got the modelling job with him and all of that fired back on him in “Risk” where Lila backed up Gabriel playing the system against Adrien in her position and got ADRIEN out of school now. Something hardly anyone else sees a problem with because of the fancy circumstances surounding it.

Dude I'm spiraling again and I kinda missed this ngl lol

#ml spoilers #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #adrien agreste #chat noir #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #ladybug #ml season 4 #ml theory #ml strike back #Ml season 5 #ml analysis #keeping up with the agrestes #Ml rambling #I need to get this out of my system

269 notes · View notes

purrincess-chat · 4 years

Text

Song of a Caged Bird (Kagami Zine)

Hi everyone! I participated in the @kagamizine this summer, and the whole zine is out now! Please go check out the whole thing and show all of the creators some love because everyone worked super hard and all of the pieces came out amazing!

For my piece I decided to go with some girl squad bonding cause I want more of it in canon. Let Kagami have a group of loving gal pals!

Read on AO3

“Wait, you’ve never had a sleepover?”

Marinette’s jaw hung slack as Kagami took a slow sip of her juice and averted her gaze. The warm spring sunlight filtered through the trees, tiny birds flitting through the branches. Kagami envied them a little getting to spread their wings and fly away from home. A chance to be free. She turned back to Marinette and pursed her lips.

“I’ve never really been allowed to have friends. Even in Japan, I was always home training and studying,” she said, swirling her drink around with a frown. “My mother views such things as unnecessary and distracting.”

“But she let you be friends with Adrien and now me,” Marinette offered. She had a way of making anything seem positive. It was admirable, but unfortunately in this case, it didn’t work.

“Adrien is an elite fencing partner and potential suitor in her eyes. Nothing more,” she said. “And you’re…an exception. To keep me from rebelling, but even with us, the only time we’re allowed to hang out is to get juice once a week. This is my mother’s idea of friendship.”

“Well, maybe that can change. After all, you went from not being allowed to have any friends to being allowed to have at least one. Maybe she’ll have a change of heart,” Marinette said as a red car rolled up to the curb.

“I doubt it, but thank you, Marinette,” Kagami said, standing up and bowing. “If this is all I can have, then I will happily accept it. I’m glad to call you my friend.”

“Me too, Kagami,” Marinette said, hopping up to hug her goodbye. Kagami wasn’t usually one for hugs, but for Marinette, she made an exception. It felt nice.

“I’ll see you next week,” Kagami said, climbing in the car.

“Yeah. See you.” Marinette smiled though the sentiment didn’t reach her eyes.

She knew it must have been eating away at her. Marinette liked to help her friends after all, but there was nothing she could do. This would always be Kagami’s life. There was no way around it.

***

“Okay, girls, we have to do something,” Marinette said later that evening, pacing back and forth across her bedroom floor. “Kagami is all alone, and she’s never had friends before. She likes to act tough, but I can tell how sad it makes her.”

“Okay, but her mom is literally a huge brick wall. No way she just lets Kagami have a sleepover with us,” Alix said pointedly.

“Yeah, M. She’s ten times as strict and overprotective as Gabriel,” Alya added. “I get that you want to help Kagami, we all do, but in this case, I don’t think there’s anything we can do.”

“We’ve got to try! I’m sure we can get through to her mom if we ask really, really nicely,” she said, but when her friends didn’t seem convinced, she pressed her palms together. “Come on, please?”

“Okay, fine. We will help you talk to Kagami’s mom, but seeing as this plan is bound to fail-”

“It’s definitely going to fail,” Alix said.

“-we need to be ready with a backup,” Alya finished.

“What kind of backup?” Mylene asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Well, if her mom says no, which she likely-”

“Definitely,” Alix added.

“-will, we need to think of another way to help Kagami get to the sleepover,” Alya said, and Marinette quirked a brow.

“Are you suggesting-”

“Yep.” Alya’s lips curled into a crooked grin. “We’re going to sneak Kagami out.”

***

“Stand up straighter.”

Kagami tensed under her mother’s demand, but adjusted her posture nonetheless. She was used to her cold tone, and during practice, Kagami saw her more as a drill-sergeant than a mother. It was better to do as she was told without question. Even without sight, Kagami’s mother knew every wrong move she made. On most days, she’d push harder to get everything right, but today her mind wandered, replaying her last conversation with Marinette.

All her life, she’d done as she was told and never questioned. She’d let herself become numb to the patronizing voices and walled herself off from feeling. Never before had she paid much thought to making friends or playing outside – those things were luxuries Kagami couldn’t afford. Her days were spent training to be the best, so sacrifices had to be made, but all of that changed when she moved here.

When she met Adrien and Marinette.

Her friends.

When she was allowed to have fun for the first time - to be disobedient, even for a little while. Kagami had never considered such things before, didn’t dare. But like a child tasting sugar for the first time, once she had a taste, she wanted more. What made her so different from everyone else?

“Your form is sloppy today,” her mother said. “Perhaps you’re sluggish from drinking so much orange juice.”

“No, mother, I’m just a little tired, that’s all,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut to push the thoughts from her brain. Her vision blurred with hot tears as she ran through the maneuver again, but midway through, she faltered at the sight of her friends approaching her mother on the park bench.

“Um, hello, Mme. Tsurugi,” Marinette said when Alya pushed her forward.

“What is the meaning of this? Kagami, did you invite your friends to interrupt your training?” Her mother’s head snapped in her direction, and despite her mother’s lack of sight, Kagami shrank a little under her stare.

“No, mother. I didn’t invite them,” Kagami said, hoping to portray what a horrible idea this was to Marinette with a look. Still, she was touched that her friends would even try.

“She’s telling the truth, ma’am,” Alya interjected, and her mother tapped her finger on her walking stick with a frown.

“Why have you disrupted my private training with my daughter?” She snapped, and Marinette bit back a wince.

“Well, you see, ma’am, my friends and I are planning to have a sleepover tonight, and we were wondering if Kagami could-”

“No.” Her reply was clipped, final, leaving no room for argument, at least Kagami thought so, but Marinette squared her shoulders and took a breath.

“I know you’re very protective of your daughter, but she’s just a kid. She should be allowed to have fun every now and then,” Marinette said, and instant regret flashed on her face as her mother stood up.

“How dare you tell me what is best for my daughter! I am her mother, and she will do as I say!” Tomoe said, brandishing her stick like a sword, and her friends shrank back.

“Mother!” Kagami stepped in, batting the stick away with her boken. “Please, they are just trying to do something nice for me. They mean no harm.”

Her mother lowered her stick, but the tension remained in her shoulders. “Tell them goodbye, Kagami. We have work to do.”

“Yes, mother,” Kagami said, lowering her head as she turned back to Marinette. “I’m sorry, but I’m in the middle of training right now. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I understand,” Marinette said, pulling her in for a hug.

Kagami clung tightly, soaking up all of Marinette’s warmth in hopes of defrosting the cold ache surrounding her heart. Marinette’s hand slipped into her pocket, and she blinked in confusion when Marinette pulled away and winked. As the girls made their retreat, Kagami traced her fingers over the outline of a note, her heart skipping. The small slip of paper weighed heavy in her pocket throughout the rest of her practice until she returned home to her room and read its contents.

Pack a bag. We’ll pick you up at 9:30

Kagami sat back against her pillows, heart pounding. Her friends were either the coolest people in the world or the craziest, but she was already counting the seconds.

***

“I think we need a new plan,” Alix said as the girls stared up at the tall wall surrounding the Tsurugi estate that could rival Adrien’s or the local prison.

“I don’t suppose any of you brought a ladder or a set of wings,” Mylene said, and Marinette pursed her lips, desperately searching for a way over and coming up empty.

“Not only is that wall insanely tall, but Kagami’s family manufactures crazy technology. I bet their whole house is booby-trapped to keep intruders out and more importantly, keep Kagami in,” Alix said, crossing her arms over her chest. “It was a good idea in theory, but I think we should abort mission.”

“But we promised Kagami we’d come get her,” Marinette said, whipping around to face them when the walls refused to give up their secrets.

“Actually, you promised Kagami,” Alix shot back, and the other girls winces spoke to their agreement.

“Your heart is in the right place. It’s just not possible, M,” Alya said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“Yeah, you’d need superpowers to be able to get inside,” Mylene said, and Marinette’s spine stiffened.

She spun around again to examine the wall then flicked her gaze down to her purse. It was risky, but…

“I’ve got an idea,” Marinette said, taking off up the street.

“Where are you going?” Alya called, and Marinette plastered on a suspicious grin.

“Uh, I might know a way to get Kagami out, but I’ve gotta run and get it, you girls stay here, I’ll be right back!” She said, dashing up the street.

“I know what you’re thinking, and it’s out of the question,” Tikki said, popping out of her collar as they rounded the corner.

“No one will suspect anything,” Marinette promised, but Tikki simply frowned.

“That’s not the point, Marinette! Your powers aren’t meant to be used for-”

“Selfish reasons, I know, but is this really selfish? I mean, my job isn’t just to protect the city from akumas. Part of being a hero means giving people hope, and don’t you think Kagami needs a hero right about now?” Marinette said, ducking behind a car. “My powers are meant to help people, and what good are they if I don’t use them to do just that?”

Tikki weighed it for a moment before sighing. “Okay, but just be careful.”

“I will,” Marinette said, brushing her cheek with a finger. “Tikki, spots on!”

***

Kagami glanced at the clock for the hundredth time, nerves bubbling in her stomach with each tick.

9:46

Her friends were running late. Maybe they weren’t coming at all. No, she shook her head. Marinette promised, and she was always true to her word. They would come. Kagami just had to wait, but as the minutes past, those worries turned to doubts. What if her mother had scared them away? What if they didn’t like her anymore? What if…

Tap tap tap

Kagami jumped at the knock on her window, surprised by the person dangling on the other side.

“Ladybug?” She blinked as she pulled the window open.

“Someone requested a taxi service,” the heroine said with a smile, and at Kagami’s bewildered expression explained, “I was out patrolling when I ran into your friends outside the gate, and when they told me what they were up to, I offered to help. So, are you coming?”

Kagami flicked her gaze down to her outstretched hand. She smiled, shifting her bag over her shoulder, and placing her hand in Ladybug’s without a second thought, and the world around them flew by as Ladybug leapt over the other side of the wall to her friends. To freedom.

The girls were waiting on the sidewalk, and Kagami teared up when their faces brightened at the sight of her. They’d all come after all. All of them, except for one.

“Where’s Marinette?” Kagami asked, glancing around, and Ladybug stepped away.

“Uh, I’ll go find her for you guys and tell her to meet you at her house,” she said, waving them on. “Have fun with your sleepover!”

“Thanks for your help, Ladybug!” Alya said.

“Yeah, you rock,” Alix added, and Ladybug smiled before shooting off into the rooftops.

Kagami found herself surrounded by bodies as the girls pulled her in for a tight hug. She could barely breathe, but in a weird way, it felt nice.

“We are going to have so much fun! We’ve got movies and games and face masks, oh! And Mr. Dupain baked us special personalized macarons, and-” Rose rattled on while they walked, and Kagami took in the buildings with new eyes.

She’d snuck out. She’d snuck out. The streets were dark, but they’d never been more vibrant in her eyes. Her limbs were lighter, coursing with adrenaline as the tall walls grew distant, and with each step, her smile grew wider. She wasn’t sure she’d ever smiled this much, and it was starting to hurt her cheeks. But she didn’t care. This was…fun.

When they made it to Marinette’s front door, the absent girl came rushing from the other direction, stopping in front of them to catch her breath.

“Girl, where were you?” Alya asked, placing her hands on her hips.

“Sorry…I was…fireman…ladder…it was… You’re out!” She extended her arms to Kagami who was finding that she really liked hugs.

“You’ll never guess who helped us bail her out of jail,” Mylene said with a wicked grin.

“Uh, yeah, she explained everything to me. We got really lucky that Ladybug passed by. My plan to borrow a fire truck ladder was a long shot,” Marinette said, rubbing the back of her neck. “But the most important thing is that you’re free, Kagami, and tonight is your very first sleepover.”

“Girls, I just took a hot pizza out of the oven,” Marinette’s father announced, opening the door, and Marinette and Alya took Kagami’s hands, pulling her inside.

Marinette’s home was warm as if the heat of the ovens below had seeped into the bricks. The air felt different, lighter, sweeter, and Kagami realized that the warmth inside wasn’t from an oven, but from the people who lived there. Kagami had many houses. There was one here in Paris and two in Japan, but she’d never realized before now that none of them felt like this. That she’d never truly been home.

“So, Kagami, if you and Marinette ever had to fight for Adrien, who do you think would win?” Alix asked a while later after they’d stuffed themselves on pizza and watched some cheesy movie about a teen girl falling in love with her neighbor, and Alya whacked her in the arm. “What?”

“Alix! That’s not-”

“Well, considering my years of training and expertise in several styles of sword fighting and archery, I could best her easily in any combat scenario, though I do suppose she might have an advantage in strength seeing as she has lifted heavy sacks of flour in the bakery for many years, but strength can only take an inexperienced fighter so far before skill becomes a necessity,” Kagami answered, and the girls all stared at her in shock.

Just when she was starting to worry that she’d said something wrong, she was blinded by the soft fabric of a pillow. She blinked up at Marinette who wore a mischievous grin and saw the other girls arming themselves. It was an odd ritual for friends to beat each other with pillows, but that’s what made it so fun (and in the end, Kagami did prove herself victorious with very minor damage to anyone which was a stark contrast to how most of her fencing bouts ended, and Adrien had the bruises to prove it).

They talked. They ate so many sweets that Kagami wasn’t sure she remembered how to move. She laughed so hard, her sides hurt. If all sleepovers were like this, she understood why Marinette felt it so important for her to attend. Every girl should get to have fun like this, even just once.

“Are you having a good time?” Marinette asked as she painted Kagami’s nails a sparkly ruby red.

“Yes,” Kagami said with a nod, studying her every move. “I’ve never had my nails painted before. They’re beautiful.”

“I can paint them for you whenever you want. Your mom never has to know,” Marinette said with a wink, and Kagami smiled down at her fingers, watching the light catch the color.

“Thank you for all of this, Marinette. I am honored to have friends like you,” she said, and the warmth in Marinette’s eyes bore the same sentiment.

“Maybe one day we can convince your mom to let you out for real, but until then, we’re always here for you, okay?” Marinette said, and Kagami couldn’t help it. She hugged her.

She couldn’t really describe how she felt, but nestled between her friends on the floor of Marinette’s living room that night, she knew it was a feeling she’d never forget. When her alarm went off at 5:30, she hadn’t slept a wink, but her mind was alive with excitement, replaying the night over and over and over. It was time to return to her home before her mother woke and found her missing, and despite the stiffness of the floor or Rose’s elbow jabbing her side, Kagami wanted to lay there for just a minute longer, surrounded by her friends.

“Hey, we have to get you home,” Marinette yawned, shaking her shoulder.

They left the other girls asleep and made their way out into the quiet streets where businessmen and women were heading to their favorite bakeries. Neither one said much, and Kagami wasn’t quite sure if Marinette was truly awake, but when they arrived at her house, Marinette turned to her with a smile.

“Sorry you have to leave before breakfast. My dad always goes all out,” Marinette said. “But I’m glad you got to come.”

“Me too. Thank you for everything.” Kagami bowed, but she hesitated in the gate, biting her lip. “I’m glad we’re friends, Marinette.”

Marinette’s sunny expression said she felt the same way, and Kagami replayed the evening as she made her way inside. She was already dressed and ready when her mother woke up and met her in the tatami room for morning meditation.

“You seem happy this morning, Kagami,” her mother remarked as she took her place beside her.

Kagami smiled down at her ruby red nails and thought of her friends.

“Yeah, I am.”

#miraculous ladybug #kagami tsurugi #marinette dupain-cheng #kagami zine #kagaminette #my writing #hiatus cat #thank you so much to the mods for hosting this #it was a lot of fun!

132 notes · View notes

yawnjunie · 3 years

Text

so you’re the artsy type, huh ❦ cbg (1)

Genre: fluff, university au, crack (get ready for a bad take on comedy)

Pairing: broke artist!reader x art sponsor!beomgyu

Word count: 7k

Summary: After spending way too much time chasing after an impossible dream, you weren’t too sure you wanted to continue with your lifelong passion— art. One eventful day at the museum steered you onto a road full of twists and turns, and you unexpectedly found yourself wading deeper into murky water with your new employer.

A/N: a huge thank you to @noiaeu and @halohyuka for being my beta readers! anyways here is a long overdue fic that was a 20k+ word monstrosity but is now a series. happy reading!

— blu and struz

You tapped your feet absentmindedly against the grimy tiles of the cheap burger chain as you waited. The atmosphere that usually felt bustling and welcoming now felt stuffy as your stomach churned each passing second. The waitress walked past your seat as she served the customers behind you, the fragrant aroma of the burgers on her tray prompting a vicious growl from your stomach. Sighing, you checked the time on your phone: 8:52pm. Scrolling past the inactive conversations with your “friends” (you didn’t really know what to call them because you tried to ask them out and got rejected; you’d kept those conversations anyway because you were too attached to them), you sent a quick message to a number you wish you didn’t need to text today. Without a second thought, you picked up your belongings and left the small burger shop.

Thank goodness, you knew just the perfect place to drown your sorrows in.

You called for the nearest taxi to the small food shop by the name of Mrs. Lee’s Mandu House.

“What happened this time?” A stout lady with an apron asked, peeking her head out of the kitchen, setting down a large bowl of dumplings in front of you. She made her way to the condiments shelf. “Kimchi?”

“Yes, please. I got stood up again.” You grumbled, stuffing a large dumpling into your mouth ravenously. Then, speaking through mouthfuls of food, you continued. “Maybe I should just stop trying altogether. Change my major to agricultural studies and move to the countryside while I’m at it.”

Food had never tasted so good! The savory filling of the dumplings literally melted in your mouth, and soon the blaring sound of the old AC and the sound of the kdrama from the TV had just blended into the background. It was nice not having to listen to anything.

“Aw, don’t say that.” The woman replied as she set down a pot of kimchi and a plate of kimbap on your table. The friendly ahjumma took her seat across from you and set down a bag of melon seeds. “Trust me, it’s going to be hard. You’re just in your first year of college! You’ll get there someday.” Then, she continued on to tell you about other people she knew who had it harder than you, but all that faded into the background noise, along with the AC and the TV. That sentence was the only thing you heard, and although there weren’t any lemons in the soup, everything that you ate suddenly started tasting sour. Sometimes, even the best food cannot drown out the bitterest words.

You’ll get there someday.

Foomp. You flopped onto your bed with a small grunt as your back met the soft mattress. Throwing off your glasses to the side, you massaged your eyeballs and then looked at the ceiling. It was grey. The same grey that you saw before going to sleep at night, the very same grey that greeted you when you awoke in the morning to another unexciting day. The more you stared at it, the more the popcorn ceiling looked just like a grey mass with a few monotone specks here and there.

You were always told to look to the future and stop dwelling on the past. And that was a long shot, given that all you saw in front of you was a blurry ceiling.

What is this feeling? You let yourself sink a little deeper into your mattress, lazily shifting your gaze to the left, where you saw your huge Gabriel Garcia Marquez poster taped to the wall. Solitude. Looking back, you supposed that was how you’d been living your life thus far.

Doing jobs here and there, never really achieving anything big.

Single as hell.

It was days like this that made you feel not quite sad, but just really demotivated. A reminiscent smile flickered on your face as you turned your head to stare at the wall, unto which the light that peeked through the overcast sky cast a faint shadow. Words like “lonely” and “outcast” didn’t mean a thing to you. The fact of the matter was, you didn’t have anyone, and the universe sure didn’t put an effort to sugarcoat that fact.

Rolling lazily to the edge of the bed, you finally sat yourself up. You walked over to your desk, pulled out the wooden chair, and turned on the lamp. Then, you took a moment to tie up your hair before looking down at what was lying under the spotlight of the lamp.

Amidst the blizzard of eraser shavings and the familiar scent of freshly shaved wood stood the lead outline of a girl. Shoulder-length hair up in a high ponytail, a soft, rounded nose, chapped lips, and blank, unsuspecting eyes with dark circles hanging below them. Looks like she’s never seen a day of joy in her life. Looking into the mirror standing to the left on your desk, a very tired girl with a dark face stared right back. Dusting off the eraser shavings into the trash bin next to the desk, you commended yourself for the superb self-portrait.

At the insistence of the tightness in your right wrist and the crick in your neck, you set the pencil down and extended your arms to stretch your back. When your eyes fell upon the drawing once more, a wave of disappointment washed you back onto the shore of frustration. Yet another addition to the ever-growing pile of wasted white paper. A part of you argued that art was not a waste, which was true enough. Art made by you, however, was a different story.

What happened to me? All that time, effort, and energy never really amounted to much. After all, you’d only seen the world in black and white. It was as if someone took a giant paint tube and squirted an awful lot of grey paint everywhere.

After all, who’d ever heard of an artist who couldn’t tell orange from blue?

–––

Even the song playing in the background mocked you with every word.

♪ I see trees of green,

red roses too ♪

♪ I see them bloom,

for me and you ♪

♪ and I think to myself

what a wonderful world ♪

You glanced around tiredly as you saw your classmate’s boyfriend carry a stack of canvases for them. For someone who, one: saw the world in grey, and two: had never gone on a date, the world was anything but wonderful. You felt your eyelids drooping despite the hard, wooden stool jutting into your buttcheeks. Drowsily, you turned your gaze to your art pieces. Noticing the other students coming in to set up their pieces, you straightened up your back and set your bag down on the stool. You took a deep breath and swung your arms nervously in an attempt to garner a sense of purpose and hope. You got this! You whispered encouraging phrases to yourself under your breath, smiling at the students who bothered to greet you first.

Today was your first time participating in a student exhibition. Although it was quite unconventional for first year students to be showcasing their work in the advanced exhibition, your teacher had been nice enough to make a spot for you. Well, it was more like you practically begging her to consider you, because of your current family situation. You terribly did not want to sound like that broke college student™, but sometimes, a little bit of courage to fight against the stone cold reality was useful. And of course, Ms. Kim, being the benevolent soul she was, granted you special rights to participate.

This year, the exhibition was being held in the empty room at the Museum of Modern Art. Attendance of the students was optional, but a good handful of them came, hoping to get a professional review, or even a sponsor for their art. The moment you walked in, you held your breath—the entire room was empty, all six surfaces painted white. It was the brightest room you’d ever been in, yet the temperature seemed to drop 100 degrees.

It’s fine. This time, things will be different, you told yourself in an attempt to shake off the dread that settled in the pit of your stomach. Fifth time’s the charm, after all.

It may have been your first time participating in a college exhibition, but you’d participated in countless art competitions as a kid. You were like a wildfire, and there was no award for a competition you entered that you didn’t win. Now, it felt like you were back to base one. After all, who has that easy of a life? Those days of your easy childhood life were long gone.

You tried not to think much as you sat uncomfortably next to your paintings. For the first hour or so, you made a point to look each passing person in the eye, a wide smile plastered on your face. The second hour, the corners of your mouth started to twitch beyond your control. By the third hour, you found yourself staring at people’s shoes more often than their faces. As the minutes ticked by, you kept your eyes trained intently on the floor, mouth pressed firmly closed. Glancing around the room, you tried to take your mind off of your worries. But you couldn’t help but be envious of your classmates, who were getting noticed by the professional guests.

That’s okay, there’s always next time. Guess today just wasn’t my day.

It was beginning to feel like no day was your day. A warm sensation pricked at the corners of your eyes when a voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Ma’am, excuse me.” A woman in a worn out blue outfit approached your stand.

Being as desperate as you were, you hastily wiped away your tears from all the yawning and slapped a smile on your face, mustering up the peppiest voice you could manage. “Hey! How can I help you? As you can see, I work exclusively in grayscale, and I mostly do portrai–” “Miss–” the lady interrupted, “it’s closing time. Could you please pack your things?”

Upon processing the sight of the tattered mop in her hand, realization hit you like a truck, and not just any ordinary truck— it was a Belaz 75710 filled with 496 tons of rocks and sharp glass. That was a fun fact you stumbled upon while scrolling on Instagram; the fact that you somehow retained this useless information made you silently curse yourself. Your smile was frozen in place as you gave a series of curt nods. “Oh. Okay, I’ll start packing.”

The kind woman nodded back and started to walk away, but stopped and turned just a few steps away. “Don’t feel too down. Sometimes, life just doesn’t go the way you want it to. It’ll get better, trust me.”

“Yeah.” You replied coldly, not bothering to mask your sadness. Attempting to muster a small smile in gratitude for her kind words, you gave her a thumbs up before she left the room. It kind of hurt, getting pity from the janitor. But in a way, you felt a little comforted. At least you knew you weren’t the only person struggling. Robotically, you placed the canvases onto your utility cart one by one, then started folding up the easels. When the janitor’s footsteps had faded away, the only thing disrupting the silence was the rain.

Plip. Plop. With the accompaniment of the beating of the raindrops on the rooftop that rang in your ear like a dull symphony, it only seemed natural for your tears to fall. And this time, there was nobody to interfere with your sob session.

And on that afternoon, in the empty art hall, you cried your heart out. There was only one question that gnawed at the back of your mind relentlessly, like a famished dog on a bone twice its size. Should I just give up on art? The thought of it just made you cry even harder. Art was your everything.

From the moment you’d grasped the thin body of the paintbrush on your doljabi, you’d fallen in love with art. Throughout your childhood, you’d spent your days drawing. From drawing on plain computer paper to painting entire murals on your bedroom walls - you did it all. Everyone was sure you’d become an artist when you grew up. You’d even kept a money jar by your bed, which you’d used to store money for new art supplies and eventually, art school. You were happy. You had a good eye for color.

Thunder crashed outside as that memory resurfaced in your mind. Back then, you drew like there was no tomorrow when you could see colors. Until the world became dark when your colors, your precious colors were taken away. And the world remained dark ever since. They all pitied you, sending a sigh your way in condolence for your loss. You didn’t need or want their pity, of course. All you’d ever wanted was an answer, a reason to why they left your eyes.

You wanted to blame it on something, but what could you do? Every night you prayed, praying desperately for your colors back. But every morning, the ceiling remained grey. So did the sky when you walked to work. Pushing your shabby cart with a loose wheel down the hallway full of eccentric art pieces, you didn’t even spare a glance at them. Well, other than to avoid being noticed by the few people who were still in the museum, to which you hid your swollen face in the opposite direction and choked back your sobs. Well, what can you do now, y/n? It’s not your first time participating in an exhibition anyway. There’s probably someone out there having it harder than you, so suck it up! Everything will be better once you get back home…

Just when you were nearing the entrance of the museum, you heard a different pair of footsteps from your own behind you.

“Hey.” You jumped out of your skin at the tap on your left shoulder. Caught by surprise, you found yourself stumbling backwards into your cart. You lost your footing and down crashed your rear end. By attempting to hold onto the cart handle for balance, your art pieces now seemed to fall in slow motion, the cart suspended in the air as your mouth hung open in horror. You reached out to grab it, but unfortunately, you were an aching 2 centimeters short of saving your artwork. The cart toppled on top of your canvases with a comical crack, wooden splinters flying everywhere. The empty utility cart squealed defeatedly as it toppled to its side, a loose wheel still spinning.

You felt your head spin even faster, as you grew increasingly frustrated by your inability to comprehend what had just happened. Holy shit.

Strewn across the floor, battered and broken, lay hours upon hours of your time, your hard-earned money, along with the last strains of your hope of becoming an artist. F*ck!

Eyes wide and mouth agape, you turned to face the perpetrator of the tragedy.

This is the part where he apologizes and promises to make it up to me, then gives me his contact info and we go on a date and he falls for me and we live happily ever after. Or so you hoped, you thought. The thought was so ridiculous that you could have burst out into laughter if it hadn’t been for the fact that the fruit of your blood, sweat, and tears was now a bunch of broken wood and torn cotton on the floor. F you and your last brain cell, y/n. Get yourself together and snap out of it. You were convinced that you were so sleep deprived from your K-drama binging session this morning at 4am that you’d convinced yourself that you were living the next episode.

Chances were low that the two of you would get together and live happily ever from an offense like this, but even so, he would have to compensate for the damages somehow. Now that you came back to reality, you realized that you couldn’t even make out what the guy in front of you looked like. “Okay, but what if he’s like, your next patron or something.” You don’t know if you muttered that out loud, but your odd behavior was really annoying you today. Shut up, it's not like he's Song Kang! Stop it! Nevertheless, you bet on the Balenciaga slides that he was wearing that he would pull out a business card the next moment.

You stared into the boy’s eyes expectantly and he met your gaze. You felt your pulse quicken as he opened his mouth to speak, eagerly awaiting your compensation. Hello hello, my next patron. This is the moment that marks my upgrade to a better life.

“I am so, so sorry about this.”

“You should be.”

As he spoke, the boy pulled his cap lower and threw on his hood. “Not just about me breaking your paintings, but also this.” Dammit, what have I gotten myself into?

And then he bolted.

🏃 💨

“Wha– hey! Where do you think you’re going?!”

He slammed his body against the glass door and ran into the rain while you followed in close pursuit. However, after a few wobbly steps, it occurred to you that you weren’t exactly dressed for the occasion, so you took off your heels and continued the hunt barefoot.

Still, even under normal circumstances, you weren’t much of a track star. Wearing a blazer with suit pants and no shoes wasn’t helping your chances either, and the weather didn’t seem to plan on making things any easier.

The two of you ran through the heavy rain like cat and mouse. Clenching your teeth and your fists, you chased after the boy. He ran about two blocks before you caught up to him. As your calves grew sore, you considered hurling one of your heels at him.

The boy slowed down for a couple of seconds, looking around frantically. Mr. Kim.....! I told you to wait for me out here—!

Heaving a sigh, he turned around and began to run in another direction. And although he'd hate to admit it, today was one of the days where he had no choice but to admit that his choice of footwear today was a fatal flaw.

Somehow, despite the odds against you, you weren’t the one who ate the pavement. The boy tripped over the curb and slammed into the sidewalk, bellyflopping straight into a gargantuan puddle. Those Balenciagas did not help him run through the rain very well. You laughed in triumph and squatted next to his almost-lifeless body.

“Gotchu now, you jer–”

Boom! The world went white for a second, illuminated by the blinding clap of lightning. In an instant, the downpour increased tenfold, the raindrops now feeling like bullets against your skin.

“Okay, maybe this isn’t the best place to have a conversation.”

–––

The two of you trudged through the rain—or, more accurately— you dragged the boy through the rain, your grip on his hoodie sleeve iron-tight. When you finally reached your car, you opened the passenger door and he went in obediently. From an outsider’s point of view, you might’ve been mistaken as an undercover cop. In fact, you were sure feeling like one as you apprehended the criminal.

You went around to the back and opened up the trunk, where after rifling through months' worth of empty bottles, fabric bags for shopping, and a variety of other car junk, you finally found your stash of somewhat clean clothes. After careful consideration, you chucked a worn hoodie and the swimming shorts you’d worn to the beach last year over the seat. Just in case, you also tossed your first-aid kit over. You threw your heels in and swapped them for a pair of nylon flip flops before slamming the trunk closed.

You went back to the passenger’s side and opened the door. Taking in the figure of the drenched and bleeding boy, you kind of felt sorry for him. Which was stupid, considering he had just wrecked your life’s work and made a run for it. You tilted your head back and sighed, trying to sort your thoughts out.

With all of your best art pieces now reduced to splinters, it was a cold, hard fact that you weren’t going to get a sponsor. Besides, even before they’d been smashed into smithereens, nobody had been willing to give you a chance. The probability of you finding a sponsorship was like the graph of the height of a ball thrown from a cliff at sea level, or the number √-1. It was not just in the negatives, but it was also imaginary.

Taking a sharp inhale, you talked as quickly as you could. “Listen. I’m going to go get what’s left of my art from the gallery. Just change your clothes and patch yourself up, then you can leave.” You paused to dig out a few crumpled dollars from your wallet, which you promptly threw at him.

“Here, take this to get a taxi. I don’t know how far you live, but that’s all I have. Don’t get me wrong– I still think you’re a massive schmuck. And there’s nothing you can do to fix the damage you’ve caused.” Despite your best effort to remain composed, your voice cracked a little at the end. You stopped talking before you were to break out into tears again.

Without waiting to hear what the douchebag had to say, you slammed the door closed and strode through the rain back to the gallery, where your pieces still lay broken on the ground where you’d left them. A part of you was hoping that maybe, by some magic or miracle, the whole thing had been a dream, and nothing really happened.

But reality was as cold as stone, and you were powerless to change it. So, as you always did when confronted with the unchangeable, you picked yourself up and carried on, struggling against the current.

By the time you wheeled the broken canvases back to your car, the boy was long gone, all traces of his presence vanished except for the dampness of the left side passenger seat. You buckled on your seatbelt and tuned into your favorite radio station, then sped off into the summer storm. The storm, your artwork, it was all so out of the blue– well, in your case, grey.

The situation on the freeway was like a stuffy nose: irritated and congested. In fact, it would’ve been faster to moonwalk down the road. To make matters even worse, instead of music, the radio station was streaming ad after ad. Is this even legal? Exasperatedly, you tuned into a different station, then another one, but to no avail; all of them were on ad break.

It was frustrating enough that the gallery was a complete flop, not to mention that your best art was demolished in a hit and run and that you were sitting soaking wet on a leather seat stuck in the middle of traffic. Now, even the radio had turned against you. You shut it off and sat in silence.

Thump. You sighed and leaned your head back against the seat, willing the migraine that was building up in your head to f*ck off. After craning your head to check the backseat one more time, to your vexation, you found that the asshat hadn’t even bothered to close the first aid kit.

Muttering obscenities under your breath, you reached for the kit, cracking your inflexible spine 4 times in the process. You rummaged through its contents, straightening them out, counting how many were left, and you were about to slam the lid closed when you saw the note.

XXX-XXX-XXXX

“Well, gee, that’s REAL helpful.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the ten numbers scrawled on the note. Your half a brain cell told you to quit being stupid and toss that note out the window.

The rest of your stupid self told you to call it. I mean, why not? You cursed yourself for how your brain worked– or rather, didn’t work– sometimes.

You licked your lips in brief contemplation before punching in the numbers in. The person on the other end picked up immediately.

“Hello, welcome to Papa John’s Pi–”

You hurled your phone into the backseats and ripped the note up, throwing the scraps into the air like confetti before continuing the wearisome ride down through the rain.

–––

It took an eternity, but you made it back to your apartment, where you promptly crashed onto the couch. As per usual, you spent the rest of your waking hours scrolling through baking videos, even though you had neither the ingredients nor the time to be making any of the confections. At around 8pm, exhausted from crying and the events of the day, you dozed off without having a bite of the frozen pizza that’d just finished baking in the oven.

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Your dreamless slumber was disturbed by the vibration of a string of text notifications and the glow that lit up the dark ceiling. Still half-asleep, you blindly felt around for your phone and attempted to read the message through bleary eyes.

It was from an unknown number.

Rubbing your eyes to clear out the nasty gunk, you sat up and read the message again, this time with clearer vision.

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] Hello, sorry for ruining your paintings today. I will make it up to you.

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] Thanks for bothering to call, let’s meet at this address to talk about your compensation. My parents can’t know that I did this so it would be great if you could keep this a secret :(

What the f*ck. You muttered under your breath, eyes half shut. Did I call anyone? In your half-asleep state, you didn’t bother to recall. For a second, you considered blocking the number. But just in case this was just one of your dumbass friends who changed their number, you decided to give that person a reply.

[You] hello? is this papa john’s?? i would like a cheese pizza

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] oh sorry the voicemail was a prank for someone else

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] i’m the guy from the art museum earlier, remember

[You] okay why do you have my number

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] because you called me

[You] right. okay, what do you want

[You] unless you want to pay me back for all those damages back there, no i am not interested in anything else sry i’m a very busy person you know

You hesitated a second before pressing the send button. You’d just sent a lie; in fact, you weren’t really that busy. Apart from your part time job at the boba shop, you were actually quite free most of the time. During the summer, at least. In fact, your screen time had gone up by 42%, your daily average now totaling to a whopping 12 hours. After a minute or so of silence, you threw your head back onto your pillow and let out a loud sigh of relief. Peace at last! It also made you quite happy that the person who texted you was in the least, not some weird scammer.

Ping! You celebrated too soon. Reaching for your phone groggily, you read the new message.

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] okay then i was going to ask if you were free tomorrow

Am I being asked out? You squinted at your bright phone screen in the dark. You might have been nearsighted, but you weren’t illiterate in pick-up lines.

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] i want to return the clothes you lent me

[You] it’s fine, you can keep that

Oh good, he was talking about the clothes, not anything else. Your millisecond of relief ended quickly when he sent another message.

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] oh also it would be great if we could meet up anyway? i want to talk to you about something that i had been meaning to say for a while

Oh, god. I knew it wasn’t just about the clothes. Lonely as you were, you would shoot yourself in the foot if you got into any relationship without landing a stable job or having any money. Scoffing amusedly, you stared at the screen as he continued to type. But dating someone like this? Never in a million years. Turning over to your other side, you thought about the many ways you could reject him.

[You] no sorry :(

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] we should set a date at the cannoli restaurant to talk about your compensation costs. i’m extremely sorry for ruining your beautiful artwork, and i know that my apologies will do nothing to change your current situation. since this is my fault, i’m willing to pay any amount you request (and i’ll pay to the best of my capabilities)... i’m assuming $50,000 would be enough to cover the costs for most of the damage? if monetary compensation doesn’t work for you, we can discuss other forms of compensation as well.

[You] i know it may not seem like it but i’m actually caught up in too much work to have time for dating anyone. you see, it’s just that i have lots of work on the side so i can’t really spare time at the moment. please don’t take this personally haha i’m sure you’ll find someone,,, like i don’t know how to say this but yeah…..you don’t wanna be w someone like me, it’s me not you

Huh? Just as you sent your message, another message popped up before yours. And if your life had a background narration, this very moment would have been “and in that moment he knew. He fvcked up.”

Fml.

With just one single message, you perhaps have ruined the only god-given opportunity to turn your life around ever. He’d just offered you money to cover the costs of your broken paintings... now that you thought about it, he could even be your patron! You couldn’t even get a patron even if you went out of your way to look for one on Craigslist, pestered Ms. Kim for any news from the Art Teacher’s Association, or even begged random people on the street in hopes one out of the million people would be willing to promote your art. Now, someone was asking to compensate you with tons of money, and you’d just rejected him in the most embarrassing way possible.

[You] oh shoot

[You] i mean wrong chat, uh can you please stay on hold, i will get back to your compensation offer, yeah i will see you at the restaurant sometime thanks

XXX-XXX-XXXX is typing…

You did not bother to see what he had to say. Hurtling your phone onto your carpet, you let out a guttural scream of “I AM SUCH A DUMB@$$$” before pulling the strings on your hoodie tightly. And for the second time that day, you cried.

———

Leaving behind the upsetting events from a couple of days ago, you listlessly shuffled through the entrance. It was Saturday morning, and that meant groceries. The local Asian market was one of your favorite places to be; breathing in the familiar blend of spices that hung in the air was a cathartic feeling. The corners of your lips were turned slightly upwards as you bent to grab a basket.

First stop was the meat section, where the bugged-out eyes of dead fish followed you as you walked down the aisle. Cooking raw animal flesh wasn't really your thing, so you simply picked up a package of pre-cooked chicken and went on your way.

Next came the produce section where you felt up all the tomatoes, only bagging the ones that felt the right amount of firm and soft. You also added a pack of bok choy and mushrooms, perfect for cooking up a lazy soup.

Now that you were nearing the end of your expedition, it was time to head into the best part of the store: the snack aisle. Sometimes, when you were feeling more down than usual, you would blow the whole sum of your weekly grocery savings on off-brand shrimp chips and chocolate banana Pocky. One by one, you were doing all the things your mom had told you not to do when you moved out, from coating the entirety of your insides with nothing but sodium and sugar to shifting your sleep schedule by 15 hours.

What was next, the-no-dating-boys-until-you’ve-gotten-your-Master’s-and-have-a-7-figure-job rule? You scoffed and rolled your eyes. Even if your stomach was totally trashed and your sleep schedule was nonexistent, you would never let yourself fall that far.

As you stepped foot into the chips aisle, you beheld the holy grail. From Hello Panda to rice crackers, wasabi peas to Yan Yan sticks complete with a chocolate dip, cream wafers to dried seaweed, you were in a sea of temptation. Being that broke college student™, you just gulped and kept walking. I can just feast on these goodies with my eyes.

Your initial plan had been to just walk through the aisles to admire and drool over snacks you knew you couldn’t afford, but you were stopped in your tracks when you reached the instant noodles section.

At the end of the aisle, the shelf was bare except for a single lone pack. Even from a distance, you recognized it, all right; there was no mistaking the outline of your favorite instant ramen brand. 신라면. More like 神라면 (it’s more than just spicy noodles— it’s noodles made by the gods) you thought, eyes already tightly clutching at the packaging from 5 feet away.

From many a sleepless night of binge-watching third-rate rom-com dramas (though you cringed thinking back on it, this was an integral phase of your dark “past”), you knew where this was going–– but you weren’t going to sit around and let yourself fall into some overused trope. You gripped your basket tight as you swiftly made your way over to the shelf, just about setting a world record for speedwalking with a basket.

Sure enough, if you had been one second slower, you would’ve been ensnared in a sticky situation. Just as you were snatching up your prey like the pterodactyl you were, another figure was rounding the corner. Another broke college student™, it seemed, judging by the state of their hoodie, which was pulled over their messy hair, the strings tied in a bow to make sure the hood wouldn’t fall. Even though their face was concealed by their hood, you could see their reaction as they connected the dots from the bare shelf to the ramen pack in your hand.

“Hey–” they started, reaching towards you, but you promptly dropped the pack into your basket, spun on your heel, and noped out of the aisle before you could be confronted. You felt sorry because you could sympathize with their situation, but you were in no place to be kind to others. Not in this dog-eat-dog world. To survive, you’d have to stay on top of the food chain.

You were about to fall in line when you remembered that you were all out of Sriracha sauce. You could deal with giving up your Pocky and shrimp chips as long as you had your favorite condiment in stock; no matter how down you were, scrambled eggs with a heaping squirt of Sriracha always took you up to Cloud Nine. If you were going to leave something behind, it would never be the Sriracha sauce.

After grabbing a bottle from the condiment aisle, you scanned the checkout desks for the shortest line. Luckily, a new checkout desk had just opened on the left, so you scampered over and placed your basket onto the counter. The clerk was a kind-looking old woman, but was surprisingly agile for her age. As you waited for her to bag the large span of items that belonged to the grandpa in front of you, you opened up your phone to check your budget. You eyed the message app with two unread messages temptingly before going into your bank app. This was a lucky trip~ thankfully ramen isn’t too expensive. Even if it wasn’t on my grocery list, a few cents won’t make too much a difference. I think I can spare enough to get a Pocky next time.

At long last, the grandpa shuffled away with his cart filled with some veggies, a thick stack of newspapers, and an unusually large stash of rice crackers. While the clerk scanned and bagged your items, you continued to fiddle with your phone until she cleared her throat.

“Would you like a single receipt, or two separate ones? Because there’s a divider between your items.”

“Excuse me?” “You and your boyfriend. By the way, you guys look really cute together, especially with your hoodies~ are you on a date?”

You spun around only to come face to face with the broke college kid from the ramen aisle. Well, that’s awkward. The cashier must have been blind or deaf (or both) because you didn’t even interact with that boy. You stole glances of the customer through your peripheral vision, trying to see what he looked like. Hmm, do I know him? He looked uncannily familiar. Just then, another realization dawned on you. A terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad one. Your expression quickly changed from one of confusion to one of pure shock.

Surprise, surprise. It was the douche from the art gallery. And he was wearing your old hoodie.

“I-I don’t know him.” Before he could open his mouth to say anything, you quickly looked away, feigning ignorance. Unfortunately for you, the old clerk had seen much in her day and your little ruse wasn’t going to slip past her that easily.

“From the flushed look on your face and the stammer in your voice, I’m pretty sure you do. And I’m sure he would agree, wouldn’t you, lover boy~?”

And… cue to the horrified look on lover boy’s face. The conflict that was playing out in his mind showed on his face; he knew that if he answered this wrong, he would be facing your wrath.

“Uh, well, the thing is…” He shot you a nervous glance, but your features were stone cold. At a total loss for what to say, the boy just trailed off and turned his eyes to his basket. Following his gaze, you looked over his items and immediately recoiled in disgust.

Not a single leafy green (grey) in sight, no meat, no rice, not even one of the food groups necessary to sustain life. Strawberry ice cream mochi, Taiyaki, strawberry Melona bars, Choco Pies, strawberry Hi-Chew, strawberry Chocorooms, strawberry Pocky–– it seemed that strawberry was a recurring theme among his groceries.

Even though the sheer amount of sugar made you gag, a pang of jealousy flashed across your face. That was the life you’d longed for ever since you finished high school: living off of nothing but sugar and carbs, looking like a bum and not giving a damn about it, just chilling.

Unfortunately, with the number of failures and setbacks that stained your past, a carefree life was something you could no longer afford.

“Yeah, okay, we’ve met,” you cut in, saving the boy from the tricky situation. Skeptic, the clerk stared into your unblinking eyes for what seemed to be a solid 15 seconds before shrugging and handing you your groceries. You snatched up your fabric bag and went on your way, walking fast. The color in your cheeks was probably the same as a tomato. Your least favorite fruit.

Why him, of all the places? Why, universe? Where did I go wrong? You were about to drop dead from embarrassment. As you closed your eyes, you could see your tombstone: “Rest in Peace y/n, died alone and patron-less.”

However, what you didn’t know was that your day was about to get worse. A whole lot worse. It all started when you felt a familiar tap on your left shoulder. I swear– You took a deep breath in and let it out slowly to compose yourself and answered without turning around.

“What in God’s good name do you want. And why are you wearing hobo clothes.” My clothes, you realized, a tiny bit weirded out.

“They’re comfy,” he pouted, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his newfound hoodie as if to show off. “Anyways, how come you didn’t check your phone earlier?

“Oh, uh,” you felt the pressure in your head rising as you recalled how you threw your phone down in embarrassment and cried. “Sorry, I was feeling kinda down because a certain someone sorta trashed my life’s work and my only chance of being successful in the industry, sooooo yeah. My bad.”

Sniff. You looked up, startled, only to find that the boy in front of you had tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. His mouth was clamped closed, but his bottom lip was quivering and his eyebrows were turned up, resembling a small child trying to keep himself from bursting into tears after falling and scraping his knee on the pavement. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

Well shit. There were two ways you could go about this: one, let your superego do the talking like a good person and prevent the boy from having a total meltdown in the middle of the sidewalk. The second was letting your id run rampant, taking full advantage of his feelings of remorse and overall just being a jerk. Maybe you could be distant and lacking in empathy, but you weren’t an asshole because you wanted to be one.

“Listen, I’m sorry for calling you a schmuck. A schmuck would not have bothered to keep in contact and a schmuck would not be on the verge of tears out of guilt. ...I accept your apology.” You were going to say that what he did was unforgivable, but you decided no to say that. After a pang of guilt jabbed into you, you bit your lip and softened your tone.

“I know you feel bad, but you don’t need to cry; there’s no way to turn back time. So instead, let’s move forward and keep looking up. I’ll start.” Smiling slightly with a tilted head, you held out your hand. “Hi, my name is y/n. I know that we’ve technically met, but this is the first time we’ve met met. So, nice to meet you.”

He wiped his tears away with the butt of his palm and tried to return the smile, though his was more watery. “Nice to meet you, y/n. I’m Beomgyu.” You noticed the corners of his lips curl upwards in a small smile as he took your hand, shaking it firmly.

There was a pause of awkward silence as you let go of his hand, wiping your sweaty palm on your sweatpants. Well that was the most awkward introduction I’ve ever had in my life. Clearing your throat, you spoke again to clear the tense atmosphere.

“About my compensation.”

#moacabin #txtarcadianet #txt fanfiction #txt scenarios #txt fluff #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #beomgyu fanfiction #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu fluff #okay this is ... awkward #it's been an eternity since i first started writing this #i don't even think this is that good of a fic LOL it's just lots of crack #but anyways i hope you enjoy this story so far !!#it would be great if i could get some feedback about how it's going so far haha

43 notes · View notes

thedailyimagines · 4 years

Text

Imagine being the descendant of Victor Frankenstein, and working alongside Gabriel Van Helsing.

Description: Though the threat of Dracula was gone from the world, there were always other supernatural threats. Who better to help Van Helsing than the granddaughter of one such legend?

This is bending the Van Helsing universe just a little, where Victor Frankenstein isn’t as young as he is portrayed to be in the movie. Otherwise everything takes place after the movie.

~~~~~~~~

“So. Plovdiv. Bulgaria. What exactly is in the city?” Gabriel Van Helsing walked alongside Cardinal Jinette, crossbow resting against his shoulder.

“There’s been reports of attacks in the city, mostly at night. Our sources say that while nobody has died, the injuries are not of human nature. There has been requests for help.”

“And you decided to send me. I assume you want me to take Carl?” Jinette shook his head.

“No. Friar Carl will be busy with another assignment. You’ll be headed to an ancient library in the city. Hopefully you can find some information on the attacks there. The locals say the attacks have happened in the past, and there might be records of them.” Van Helsing stopped and gave the Cardinal a confused look.

“So if Carl isn’t going, who is?” Jinette kept walking and Van Helsing had no choice but to follow. Soon the two came to the entrance area of the church, where a woman sat writing in a journal. When she saw them, she shut her journal and held out her hand to shake. Cardinal Jinette took her hand in both of his, shaking it in greeting.

“Van Helsing, this is Y/n Frankenstein. She’ll be going with you to Plovdiv.” Y/n’s smile twitched downwards slightly at the mention of the Frankenstein name.

To Van Helsing, she didn’t seem like she could be related to the creator of the monster. Of course, every account he had read about Victor Frankenstein claimed that the scientist was a madman whose loved ones and family died because of his actions. This woman looked like a school teacher.

“So the church finally invested in a necromancer? Have to say, usually it’s the Big Guy who does the reanimating.” The woman scowled and crossed her arms. Cardinal Jinette shook his head in annoyance. Of course Van Helsing would joke about holy miracles in a church.

“And I’m a scientist, not a witch. I assume you know the difference.” Van Helsing raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Well excuse me Madam Frankenstein—”

“Lavenza.”

“Pardon?”

“I go by my grandmother’s maiden name, it attracts less attention. Her name was Elizabeth Lavenza.” Jinette began apologizing profusely, but Gabriel just shrugged nonchalantly.

“Alright then, Madam Lavenza.”

“You could just call me y/n. I’m not married nor a spinster. Not yet anyway.” Van Helsing turned to the cardinal.

“Explain to me why she’s coming with me?” Cardinal Jinette shook his head. Van Helsing was really going to complain his whole about taking the scientist, wasn’t he?

“Because she can translate the texts you’ll need, at a much faster rate than you could hope to.”

<—>

The hot sun beat down on y/n’s head, and she was glad she had chosen to wear lighter clothes. Glancing over at Van Helsing, she almost winced in sympathy. The man was decked out in his usual heavy leather gear, which while offering protection from the sun was no doubt unbearably hot.

“See something you like, Miss Lavenza?” Y/n rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat in the cart. The man was still refusing to call her by her first name.

“I was considering if I should ask you if that’s the city we’re headed to, and if you were beginning to suffer from heat exhaustion. All that heavy leather can’t be comfortable in this heat.” Van Helsing chuckled and tilted his hat to shield his face from the sun.

“You almost sound concerned.” A small huff came from y/n, and she pulled her journal out of her small bag.

“Considering you’re the expert in getting around the city, I’d prefer not to lose you and be stranded.” Van Helsing just turned to the cart driver and began talking with him. Y/n began writing in her journal, making note of the city and the sites around them.

When they arrived at a small church, a meek looking man greeted them. Compared to Gabriel, y/n noted in amusement, the pastor was tiny. He guided the two visitors to the old library beneath the church and left them. Neither y/n nor Gabriel noticed how the pastor’s eyes lingered hungrily on the two of them.

<—>

Sighing and rubbing her eyes, y/n looked down in frustration at the book in front of her. Translating it from Latin to German was easy as breathing for her, but sometimes there were random words thrown in that were of a completely different language and it was slowing y/n down.

Across the room, Van Helsing was tossing books to the side if he didn’t deem them useful. It slightly annoyed her to see the delicate books thrown aside so carelessly, and y/n briefly wondered who had taught the monster hunter his manners.

“If all you’re going to do is throw books around, you can leave.” Van Helsing scowled at another book, and as if to rub it in y/n’s face, tossed the book down the aisle between the shelves.

“No.”

“What? Think the scary monster is going to come after me?” Y/n laughed and adjusted her reading glasses, fixing Van Helsing with a stern look. “I’m not a child, Van Helsing. I can look after myself. Besides, didn’t you state that this library was sanctified by your church?”

The dark haired man opened his mouth to argue, then closed his mouth and shook his head.

“Don’t stay up too late. We’re leaving early tomorrow morning.”

“I’m touched, Van Helsing. You do care.” The monster hunter snorted, taking a lantern with him as he left the library. Y/n turned back to the book in front of her and cracked her knuckles. It was time to get back to work.

Not even an hour into her work, a scratching noise came from one of the aisles. Y/n quickly turned her head towards the source. The area between the shelves was too dark to see, and against her better judgement y/n took a lantern and walked down the aisle. Dust motes floated through the air, and y/n raised her lantern a little higher.

A loud growl came from in front of her. A large, dark mass emerged from the darkness and another growl rumbled from its throat. Y/n’s mind took two seconds to register what she was seeing before she booked it for the exit. The monster howled and gave chase.

“Shit shit shit shit!” Her mother would have been horrified at her use of language, but right now y/n could care less. Her mother could come lecture her when she wasn’t being chased by a monster four times her size. Said monster crashed through the bookshelves in front of her, and y/n screamed and changed direction.

“GABRIEL!”

<—>

Gabriel was halfway up the stairs to the exit when he heard the loud crash. He half wondered if y/n had knocked something over, or if—

“GABRIEL!”

That didn’t sound good. Taking the stairs two at a time, Van Helsing all but flew back into the library. Shelves were shattered and books lay in pieces everywhere. And there was y/n back to a wall as something huge closed in on her.

“Y/n!” Gabriel grabbed the closest thing to him, an unlit torch sconce, and flung it at the monster. The beast didn’t even flinch, but it turned slowly towards Van Helsing. With a roar it lunged at the seasoned monster hunter, who dodged and ran for cover. He found y/n with a book, ready to hit whatever came near her.

“It’s me! It’s just me!” Y/n lowered the book slightly.

“How did that thing get in here?!?!” Van Helsing shook his head and handed his crossbow to the scientist.

“Take the crossbow, and shoot it!” Y/n jerked back in surprise, almost dropping the heavy weapon. She shoved it back at Gabriel.

“I don’t know how to shoot a crossbow!” The monster hunter gave her a disbelieving look.

“Seriously?”

“I’m a fucking scientist, not a bloody monster hunter! I study the human body and it’s different functions!” Gabriel rolled his eyes. Of course she couldn’t fight. She could translate dead languages seven ways to Sunday, but not fight.

“Fine. When I say go, you need to make a run for the exit. Keep running and don’t look back.”

“What about you?” Gabriel prepared a crossbow bolt.

“Is that concern I hear, Miss Lavenza?”

“Yes.”

“Then thank you. Now get ready.” Y/n took a deep breath, and got into position. Van Helsing stood up and sprinted away from y/n. Once he deemed himself far enough, he quickly shot two crossbow bolts into the monster. The beast howled and whirled to face the monster hunter.

“Run!” Y/n sprinted towards the exit. Van Helsing kept the beast occupied with his crossbow. For a brief moment, he saw an open wound on the creatures underbelly.

The creature reared up again, and Gabriel fired a crossbow bolt at the wound. The monster howled and staggered, clawing at it’s chest. Finally, it fell to the ground. With a spasm it began to shrink, until it was a middle aged man covered in black goo.

“Gabriel?” Van Helsing turned to find y/n standing at the exit, armed with nothing but a fireplace poker from the church above.

“I thought I told you to run.” Y/n stepped into the library, staring with wide eyes at the the goo-covered man.

“I—wait, isn’t that one of the church’s men? The one who showed us the way here?” Gabriel gently turned the man over, finding that it was indeed the pastor of the church.

“Shit.”

~~~~~~~~

I don’t own the above gifs, all credits go to the owners.

#thedailyimagines #imagine #female reader #frankenstein!reader #scientist!reader #van helsing 2004 #van helsing 2004 imagine #van helsing #van helsing imagine #gabriel van helsing #gabriel van helsing imagine #gabriel van helsing x reader #gabriel van helsing x reader imagine #van helsing x reader #van helsing x reader imagine #the reader is not a fighter #and is not afraid to make that known

206 notes · View notes

defges · 3 years

Text

He was a captain on the Wisconsin team

Metris has a max payload of 2,502 pounds; it can tug 5,000 pounds. Both wore woolen hoods pulled down over nike black tn 001 their heads, so nothing could be seen of their faces but their eyes, but he knew Ty by the tangled rope of greasy black hair falling down his back and Owen by the sausage stuffed into the scabbard at his hip. Watts played basketball, in part, for acceptance, and he's friendly with fans, in part, because he knows what it's like to be the outsider. School staff, often the health clerk or health aide, identifies children most in need of new shoes. Whenever he closed his eyes, he found himself remembering Lady Hornwood. Arnolf Karstark was the late Lord Rickard’s uncle. Under three huge brick arches they went, then down a steep stone ramp into the depths, through the dungeons and torture chambers and past batteria ai polimeri di litio amazona pair of deep stone cisterns. It seems Jennings brings an action of trespass against Fundeberg for killing his slave. She took home first place

salomon prezzi scarpe sportive

for a detailed drawing of rocker Max Bemis from the alternative rock band Say Anything.. 90 miles later, I have given four running apps Runkeeper, iMapMyRun, miCoach and Nike+ enough of a workout to know which ones work and and which ones aren't worth the sweat.. Down his throat, down his chin. He was a captain on the Wisconsin team that won a Big Ten title in 2014, and he is now the captain for the ECHL Idaho Steelheads, a minor league affiliate of the Dallas Stars. "We all love the Tour de France because it's unpredictable but we love the Tour more for what stays the same the passion of the fans for every nation, the beauty of the French countryside and the bonds of friendship created through sport. If you are as clever as our friend insists, you know this.”. Both are unquestionably deserving of All Star appearances, and it's likely another Tigers pitcher gets one, too.. You can choose other pastel colors if you are wearing tops and blouses, and darker colors like black, dark brown, chocolate, khaki, gray, etc., for lower body clothes. Upon all these practices the law comes down, with unmerciful severity. Butcher and Mr. Each came to the same conclusion that Russian officials deployed a mixture of spambots and human agents to generate and spread false information that would be favorable to the Republican Party.. The aged and invalid are clad as regularly as the rest, but less substantially. Some of the links used in today article have Bitly performance tracking codes and may include affiliate links that benefit third party affiliate groups.. He took her to Mexico, emancipated and married zara pantalon chino her. Black, he thought, he’s wearing black, he was one of the Watch. It was my intention to write "respects the South", given that I am a native, and too often we are portrayed as Larry The Cable Guy. It's the best tool I have to help make sense of the complexities of the world I live in and the people who inhabit it, to process challenges associated with the human condition, and as a means to preserve my family's cultural narratives."Scott says she started writing to more clearly.think zara pantalon chino these labels and divisions are arbitrary, she adds. Is the background the same? Are there weird numbers on a few of the pictures? Do nike pegasus 34 hombre sprinter they have the Neon Green XI TMs in stock? If so, don TMt even think about buying. In fact there certainly was something of the sort. Selected nike air vortex desert sandstars already have them, but you'll have to wait

answear sandale copii

a week as they're launched on 1 February (120,When running or walking, blisters can be a problem. You should know that a vehicle platform is inevitably compromised by such modifications. She tells him to stick close to her because Carina's impulsive and not to be trusted. Theon had never felt comfortable in the crypts. And if not, it may turn to blood and carnage. His attempt to playfully flirt with her has failed, so Gabriel uses his class and social standing to assert his dominance over her. In the words of host Lauren Rico, "All the women (in the program) came off being very strong. Jake Cayton (sub 16. Tormund’s horse shied so hard that the wildling almost lost his saddle. Sullivan assumed it was Mike Lintner, who played on a line with Alex and Mark Hicks in what Sullivan calls the greatest line in Blugolds history.. At the third stop, the white section of the bus filled up. I named them for my brothers.” Her voice echoed off the scorched stone walls. Scattered through all the Southern States are slaveholders who are such reebok reverse jam low only in name. On the Palestinian side, the casualties are much higher 65 died Sunday, bringing the total death toll in recent weeks to more than 500. Better to lose an arm than spend your days wailing on the Bridge of Dream. A mummer playing a part. "It was like through a dust storm," Ozturk says. The old man’s hands were the worst thing about him, Cat decided the next day, as she watched him from behind her barrow. It disconcerted him. Founded in 1901 as a shoe store in Seattle, today Nordstrom operates 354 stores in 40 states, including 122 full line stores in the United States, Canada and Puerto Rico; 221 Nordstrom Rack stores; two Jeffrey boutiques; and two clearance stores. Even someone who has not read the book can sense from the beginning of the film where and how all the main players in the film will fit into the story, and what their fates will be. These areas of your home are too hot and humid. He said he was weaving in the road because he was eating while driving.. I told you once, there are old sellswords and there are bold sellswords, but there are no old bold sellswords. Have little contact outside of guards and prison staff. It was snowing heavily to the south, Jon knew. Her new husband wanted the noble gelded for the crime of rape, and he wanted a purse of jeans moda 2015 donna amazon gold as well, to pay him for raising the noble’s bastard as his own. She was earnestly memorialized to speak out. After the execution of the negroes in that county, some time ago, who had been excited to rebellion by a certain Methodist preacher, by the name of Bacon, of 190which you have heard, the citizens held a meeting, and instituted a sort of inquisition, to find out, if possible, who were the accomplices of said Bacon. "Cases in which children are sexually abused are horrifying and astounding, said Eldridge. "They many need a spruce up," he said, but added that with these kinds of prices a handy first timer has a real opportunity to pick up a good deal.. The rest of the way they went by foot, Tyrion clanking and clattering as he struggled to keep up with his captor’s long, impatient strides. "We're out rebounding them, we're probably a little bit more efficient offensively, but we're making twos inside and they're making threes. My brothers and sisters were bid off one by one, while my mother, holding my hand, looked on in an agony of grief, the cause of which I but ill understood at first, but which dawned on my mind with dreadful clearness as the sale proceeded.

1 note · View note

moviemunchies · 3 years

Photo

The Patriot is a weird movie that has somehow grown on me? I think it’s a good movie, but I don’t know if it’s a great movie, and it’s about as subtle as a brick to the face. I wouldn’t say it handles the subject matter very well, cutting a few corners to make the story work.

So The Patriot tells the story of Benjamin Martin (Mel Gibson), a South Carolina...farmer? Plantation owner? Whatevs. He’s a widower with several kids and a veteran of the French and Indian War, so despite the beginning of the American Revolution going on, and his oldest son Gabriel (Heath Ledger) joining the Continental Army, he advocates a peaceful solution to the conflict with Britain because he doesn’t want to be drawn into another war. But when a British dragoon leader Colonel Tavington (Jason Isaacs) shows up and shoots his son, Martin joins the war effort, and attacks the British in a brutal guerilla campaign leading a group of local militia.

If you’re from South Carolina, you’ve probably heard about this movie quite a lot, in part because it takes place and was filmed there, but especially because the protagonist is heavily based on American Revolutionary hero and militia leader Francis Marion (and some other South Carolinians from the time but they didn’t have a cool nickname so that’s the one we usually go with). It’s not precisely an accurate depiction of Francis Marion’s life by any means, other than he was a guerilla militia leader in the Revolution that hung out in the swamps. For starters, Benjamin Martin’s anti-slavery, which is not quite the attitude Francis Marion held towards the practice (but fellow SC native and Revolutionary hero John Laurens certainly did!); his plantation is staffed entirely by freedmen--a facet of the character that even Mel Gibson felt was a bit of a cop out, avoiding a chance to do a warts-and-all look at American history. Admittedly, this is a bit much to ask of the movie, I think. And Roland Emmerich, probably.

Still, it’s a bit jarring to have a subplot about one of the militiaman, a black man, finding out that the Continental Army will free any slave that fights for the Revolution for a year when that’s not really a thing that happened at all. And Francis Marion wasn’t nearly as great of a guy as Benjamin Martin; although that may be exactly why there’s a fictional stand-in instead of the actual historical figure in the lead role.

There is often a conversation about the atrocities that the British (mostly Tavington, if we’re being real here) commit during the course of the film. Yes, he’s based off of the real British officer Tarleton, who is infamous in American history for being vicious and giving no quarter. And yes, atrocities happened. And to be clear, in-film, Cornwallis and other Redcoats call out Tavington on his brutality throughout the film, to the point that none of the Brits seem particularly torn up when he dies at the end. But burning a church full of people is a _Nazi war crime._ There’s no record of the British doing anything like that during the Revolution, and so people accuse this movie of demonizing the British. But while the British didn’t do this to American colonists, similar atrocities were committed against the Irish a hundred years before. So no, the British didn’t do this to _US_, but they did do it at some point. That probably doesn’t justify its use here in this movie, but I feel like it’s all important to keep in mind.

This all leads me to the idea of _The Patriot_ not as a history--it’s Hollywood, of course it’s not--but as a sort of mythologized version of the American Revolution. Maybe that’s a weird take, and that might make some people turn off from this movie, but for me it works. I guess that I haven’t been one of those “This movie’s inaccurate, so it SUX!” people for a long time.

The hero of our movie isn’t a man who wants to go to war--he does everything he can to try to avoid going to war, to convince his neighbors that war is not in their best interests, even though he believes in independence for the American colonies. It’s not until the war refuses to leave him alone, and begins to harm his family, that he fully commits to fighting the injustices he sees being perpetrated. Yeah, it’s kind of American _Braveheart_ but is that really a bad thing? As long as we know that’s what it is, I don’t think it is. If there were people out there who took this movie seriously, I don’t know that I’d be as lenient, but I have yet to meet someone whose opinion of history was seriously influenced by this film. Which is probably for the best.

I do understand though that the Plot kind of feels like it’s making the main character way too important to the war effort. It makes it seem as if Benjamin Martin is the only officer in the Continental Army who actually knows what he’s doing against the British. And while I like the character and his arc, I do think it’s a bit silly the way it frames the story in a way that would lead one to think that he’s fighting this war by himself. It’s not fantastic when a story dumbs down the rest of the Good Guys in order to make the Hero stand out--there are ways of accomplishing that without making everyone else incompetent.

And I’ll admit that the story’s structure is a bit… weird, I think. Sometimes Tavington just does terrible things, and I don’t know what this contributes other than adding angst. Towards the end of the movie, he gets information from some colonials before locking them in a church and burning it, but it’s not as if we see him do much with that information. It’s not really Plot Relevant. It just provides motivation for Gabriel to go after Tavington and shoot him with what should have been a fatal shot, and get killed, and give Ben MOAR ANGST. Of course it’s better to show the war as something that has casualties and consequences, but I felt that there were better ways to do it than this.

But this movie is telling an almost mythical epic story set in the American Revolution. Benjamin Martin isn’t a real person; he’s a legendary hero vaguely based off of a real hero. And in epics, seemingly pointless terrible things happen to the hero all the time to make his life suck. And like I said, this is a war movie (albeit, in an 18th century war), made before a lot of the discourse about Fridging came into public forums. Yeah, bad stuff happens, and it doesn’t always seem to make sense--that’s war. And the audience getting invested in the story, and being bothered by character deaths; well that’s kind of the point of character deaths in the first place, isn’t it?

Also it’s kind of an awesome historical action movie--I really like this period in history, because it’s a point where firearms have become commonplace, but haven’t yet become practical enough to completely replace melee weapons in battle. So we’ve got Benjamin Martin taking out Lobsterbacks with muskets, knives, and a tomahawk. It’s great, I love it. This is a huge part of why I love Assassin’s Creed III so much.

Maybe this movie isn’t that great, and I’m just projecting on it because of the lack of good American Revolution movies in the last twenty years…

I dunno. Decide for yourself. It’s a worthwhile watch. It’s got problems for sure, but I think it’s probably one of Roland Emmerich’s greatest films (maybe not a high bar), and a great film on its own merits.

[Also you know Logan Lerman is in this movie? Yeah, Percy Jackson. He’s the youngest son in the family. And Adam Baldwin is a loyalist officer, which is so off from how he’s usually portrayed it’s weird.]

#The Patriot #Mel Gibson #American Revolution #movies #Movie Munchies

2 notes · View notes

lonely-bored-writer · 5 years

Text

Winchesters meet the Phantoms Ch. 10

"Tucker's going to be so jealous." Danny grinned around his bite, looking down at the still large Philly cheese-steak sandwich. "He's always wanted to come down here." Sam chuckled at the teen's words. The trio were sat in a small diner in Philadelphia, home of the best Philly Cheese-Steaks. "Oh, you guys gotta tell me something."

"What?" Sam asked, looking over at his brother who just shrugged.

"I wanna know about the books." That instantly pulled a look from both Winchesters. Danny chuckled. "My friend Sam, she's absolutely obsessed with the books, I'm curious, how the hell did those get created."

"It was a prophet of god." Sam sighed. "He thought they were just dreams and we weren't real until we showed up at his doorstep."

"Turns out the douche was still writing away more stories." Dean chimed in. "But we made sure he won't be publishing anymore of our life."

"Aw, and Sam wanted to now what happened after you died." Danny motioned to Dean. "At least I now you're alive. Also, is your like as homoerotic as the stories portray it?"

"No!" Dean groaned, placing his half eaten sandwich back on his plate. "Why does everyone think that!" Sam had a completely different reaction, instead laughing at the question.

"Just asking from what Sam told me." Danny mused. "Besides, she's a huge Destiel fan."

"Destiel?" Sam asked, sharing a confused look with his brother.

"Yea, Dean and Castiel." Danny answered, continuing when it got a confused look from the older Winchester. "As a couple"

"There is no me and Cas." Dean growled, taking a bit from his sandwich. Sam sat back, amused and laughing.

"Hey, don't you laugh. There is a Sabriel ship." Danny pointed to Sam. "You and this guy name Gabriel." At his name, the roles switched to Sam taking an awkward bite from sandwich and Dean laughing his ass off. Danny just smirked and enjoyed his sandwich.

"God, I am stuffed." Danny groaned, laying down in the roll away bed the motel offered. Dean made a groan of agreement, flopping back onto his bed while Sam just shook his head at their antics. Sometimes it was hard to believe they weren't related. Sam took a seat on his bed, pulling out his laptop in search for the last case the trio would be doing together and flipped the TV on to fill the silence...

"Young Danny Walker He Was Just 14 when his parents built a very strange machine" Danny instantly sat up, eyes trained on the television. The Winchesters followed, sharing a look between the two.

"Designed to view a world unseen, when it didn't quite work, his folks they just quit then Danny took a look inside of it, there was a great big flash every thing just changed, his molecules got all rearranged" Danny stared, mouth opened at the cartoon playing before his eyes. He couldn't believe this. Not one bit.

"No fucking way..." Danny trailed, glancing over to Sam and Dean who were focused on the screen.

"When he first woke up he realized he had snow white hair and glowin' green eyes, he could walk through walls, disappear, and fly, he was much more unique than the other guys" That cartoon looked exactly like him, down to the freaking outfit he used to wear constantly when he was fourteen.

"It was then Danny knew what he had to do, he Gotta stop all the ghosts who were coming through. he's here to fight for me and you. He's gonna catch em all cause he's Danny Phantom!" The theme song ended, the opening scene was of his high school.

"Who the hell is Carver Edlund and why the fuck does he know so much about my life?!" Danny asked, looking over to the brothers who have knowing looks.

"Carver Edlund is Chuck." Sam started, glancing over to the screen that showed Danny 'Walker' walking with two other kids. "The prophet of God, he must have started getting visions of you too..."

"But why a cartoon?!" Danny asked, eyes glued to the screen. "Literally everyone I know is there. There's Sam, Tucker, me, my sister, hell there's even Dash!"

"Must have figured if he can't write Supernatural books, he can do whatever this is." Dean chimed in, watching the weird encounter between cartoon Danny and a glowing green wasp. "Did that really happen?"

"Yea, that's Bertrand." Danny nodded, mind still reeling over the fact that his life was now on display for the worlds amusement. "Though I wish I left fights with that little injuries." Danny grumbled, watching cartoon him get out of a crate with no injuries.

"But why Danny Walker?" Sam asked, looking over to the teen for answers.

"Might have picked a random last name, in case his story was a prophet and not made up?" Dean shrugged. "Like how he didn't reveal out last names."

"Walker is my mother's maiden name." Danny mumbled, watching cartoon him enter a home that looked so similar to his real one. "What if my parents see this! They'll know something is up!" Danny realized, worry filling him.

"Hey, I'm sure they won't think its you. Maybe they'll think it's a fan who wrote them in?" Sam tried to offer, watching the show as Danny seemed to interact with an alarmingly large man. "Is your dad that big?"

"He's six foot seven, so yea." Danny answered automatic, used to getting that question whenever people first meet his dad. "They are inventors, geniuses. Do you really think they can't connect the pieces?!"

"Just pull the 'something can't be alive and dead' card, that should work." Dean offer, eyes trained on the animation that he actually found quite interesting.

"They blew everything up." Danny groaned watching himself acting as a superhero. "I didn't have that, and I wasn't a superhero! I swear if I ever meet this guy..."

#Danny Phantom #danny fenton #danny phantom fanfiction #IM SORRY DANNY #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural writing prompts #superphantom #superphantom au #Chuck's trying to make a living #Danny hates it #Chuck isn't god #yet #Winchesters meet the phantoms

17 notes · View notes

faveficarchive · 5 years

Text

I, Conqueror: Part 4

By SwordnQuil

Pairing: Xena/Gabrielle

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: The best Conqueror tale I’ve ever read, this story follows a similar line to Remember Nothing (No violence alt-universe Xena). Gabrielle wakes up to find herself in a universe where Xena has conquered Greece, Callisto is her right-hand, and the world trembles at her feet. Can she set to rights this world turned upside-down?

From her spot just to the right of the huge crowd, Callisto watched, grinning maliciously, as Gabrielle screamed. "So, the annoying little brat recognizes the death of a kindred spirit, does she?" Cocking her head, she watched with interest as Tao Feng gathered the distraught woman close to him, looking concernedly down at her. "And she seems to have found a little friend. How sweet."

The gears in her mind spun and, in response, her face lit up in a brilliant smile that reached all the way to her eyes. "Oh, my dear little Gabrielle! For the first time in your annoying little life, you just may be of some use to me after all!"

Then, like a specter, she was gone.

***

Tao Feng gathered the sobbing young healer to his body briefly before holding her out to the length of his arms and peering down at her in concern. "What is it, Gabrielle?"

"It could have been me," the bard murmured, half incoherent through her tears. "It could have been me up there. It could have been me!"

"I am afraid I do not understand you, Gabrielle. Who could have been you?"

"That woman!"

Tao Feng looked up quickly, then back down at the weeping blonde woman. "The one on the cross?"

Gabrielle nodded, her hand over her eyes.

"She is an insurrectionist, Gabrielle. She spoke against the Realm."

Taking her hand quickly away from her face, the bard lifted her head, fury sparking in her eyes. "She spoke for the people!"

Again, the elderly healer looked up, his seamed face paling as his almond eyes darted toward the marble platform. He couldn’t quite hold in a breath of relief when he saw the Conqueror’s gaze firmly upon the cross that was being planted into the ground beside the dais.

Tao Feng risked a quick glance at the crowd around them, gratified to see that they, too, were staring at the spectacle taking place near the Conqueror’s throne.

Then he looked back to Gabrielle, who was still staring at him with blazing eyes. "It is an unfortunate thing that is done here, Gabrielle. But a lesson was learned. Not so much on the girl’s part, of course. But the Conqueror’s laws are to be respected. The people must be made to understand that."

"Tell that to her," the bard snarled, throwing the hand he had resting on her shoulder away with brute force.

The healer looked around again, his heart thudding crazily in his chest. Speaking against the Realm was suicide even in the darkest of caverns. In broad daylight, surrounded by a massive army, with the Conqueror of Greece sitting mere yards away from them...

He reached out again, only to have his arm deflected.

"Don’t touch me, Tao Feng. Not right now."

The crowd’s low murmuring caused the healer to look up sharply. He sighed in relief as he watched Xena, in her palanquin, being borne up onto the strong shoulders of her attendants.

Murmuring turned to cheering as the Conqueror’s parade left the platform and started back toward the massive palace.

Once Xena and her followers were out of sight, the crowd began to break up, talking quietly among themselves, some shooting glances toward the mercifully unconscious woman hanging from the cross and guarded over by a half-dozen armed men.

Gabrielle finally looked up, toward the hanging woman, her eyes stony. She examined the men standing around the cross, studying their expressions and wishing she’d thought to bring her staff with her.

"We need to leave, Gabrielle," Tao Feng said softly, taking care to keep his body well away from hers, as requested.

"Not without her."

The healer’s eyes widened. "Impossible!"

Gabrielle rounded on the older man. "I’m tired of hearing you say that, Tao Feng! It’s getting old! I’m going to rescue that poor woman up there. Are you going to help me, or not?"

As Tao Feng continued to stare silently down at her, Gabrielle’s expression twisted into one of distaste and disappointment. "Fine. I’ll do it myself, then."

Her determined step away broke the healer’s paralysis, and he reached out an arm. "Wait. Please."

"Not this time, Tao Feng. I’m not going to be too late again. Not this time." From where she was standing, still some distance away, Gabrielle could see the woman’s struggling efforts to breathe.

"No. I will help you. But going in and fighting those guards, assuming they can even be defeated by the likes of us, and stealing that woman’s body will ultimately end in our own executions." He smiled. "There is a better way."

Gabrielle turned back, arms crossed over her chest. "I’m listening."

***

Pulling back on the reins, Tao Feng brought the horses to a smooth stop several feet from the guarded cross. Tucked inside the back of the wagon, Gabrielle put the finishing touches on her costume, pulling the black hood up over her head to hide her features. The healer turned back to her and nodded before standing up and stepping out of the wagon, his face set.

Returning the nod, Gabrielle carefully eased herself out of the back of the wagon and took up a deferential stance behind the horses, trying her best to portray a meek attitude.

Tao Feng, undisguised, stepped up to the guards, who looked down at him with contempt.

"What do you want, old man."

"I have come to remove the body."

"Not a chance. The Conqueror wants this bitch’s corpse hangin’ high for everyone to see."

The healer took an exaggerated look around the empty square, then turned back to the soldiers. "But there is no one here. The crowds have all left." He took a step closer to the group. "Please allow me to do my job. There are men in the main camp who must be attended to."

"Then go back and tend ‘em, ya old goat, and leave us be. The bitch comes down when the Conqueror says she comes down."

Tao Feng sighed, and then bowed deeply. "Very well. I shall leave. But if the Conqueror should complain of the corpse’s stench ruining her noon meal, I can only hope that you will be kind enough to tell her that it was you who sent me away when I tried to perform my duties." He slowly looked up into the blazing noon-day sun, shading his eyes with one hand. "It promises to be quite hot today. The decomposition should begin very soon." He bowed again. "Good day to you all."

The guards looked at one another.

Then up into the sky.

Then over their shoulders toward the nearby castle.

Then back at Tao Feng, who was waiting patiently.

"Oh alright," the lead guard finally said, gesturing with his spear. "But be quick about it, old man. I’ve got a meal waiting for me too."

Tao Feng bowed again. "Rest assured, I shall move as fast as is humanly possible."

Turning, he gestured to Gabrielle, who walked slowly, gracefully over to the group.

"And who’s this? Yer bodyguard?"

The men laughed as the head guard used the tip of his spear to slide the hood from Gabrielle’s head. The bard stiffened, but kept her head bowed, hoping that the black wig she was wearing had the fortitude to stand up to the soldiers’ examination.

"She is my associate, Hee La. She has come over with the soldiers from Chin. She is a most capable assistant."

"Looks a little scrawny to me," the guard replied, peering at the robed woman who was staring meekly at the ground beneath her feet.

"Yeah. I bet I know just how she assists ya, too," another contributed, complete with lewd gestures to punctuate his feeble attempt at wit.

The group laughed again.

Tao Feng smiled enigmatically. "She is much stronger than she looks."

"Whatever. Just get that carcass down from the cross now, old man."

"As you wish."

***

Tao Feng once again pulled the horses to a stop, this time just behind the large healing tent within the Greek encampment. Hopping quickly from the seat, he strode over to the rear of the wagon and peered inside. "Is she alive?"

Gabrielle looked up, cradling the broken young woman against her body. "Barely," she whispered, stroking the wavy golden hair tenderly. "Thank you, Tao Feng. You risked your life to save a stranger. I appreciate that." The bard smiled slightly. "I’m sure she does, too."

Though it wasn’t in the man’s nature to blush, Tao Feng could feel, to his extreme embarrassment, the heat traveling from his neck to his cheeks and ears. He cleared his throat gruffly, gripping the splintered wood of the wagon’s short lip. "We cannot keep her here, you know. She is most unsafe in the middle of the Conqueror’s main war camp."

Gabrielle nodded. "Yes. I know. I have a friend who I think can help. I’ll take her there."

Tao Feng nodded. "We must not waste time, then. Tell me where to go."

"No. I need to do this alone, Tao Feng. My friend is...very secretive."

"Absolutely not. This territory is much too dangerous for a woman traveling alone. Even a woman as skilled as you."

The bard smiled softly. "If you recall, Tao Feng, I traveled alone before I met you."

"And look at the trouble you’ve gotten yourself into since then!"

Gabrielle laughed out loud. "Speak for yourself, my friend." Her expression became somber. "Trust me, Tao Feng. I can take care of myself." Reaching out, she softly touched his arm with her free hand. "You’re needed here. Like you said to those guards, the wounded need tending to. I’ll be okay."

"But - "

"Please."

Whatever strength he might have had broke to pieces in the face of the beautiful woman’s soft plea. Tao Feng sighed, then nodded.

Gabrielle smiled brightly, squeezing the healer’s thin arm. "Thank you."

Tao Feng cleared his throat again, adopting his coolest expression. "Yes. Well. Just endeavor to return safely. And quickly. The men have need of you as well, healer."

"I’ll be as quick as I can. Take care of yourself, Tao Feng. And thanks again."

The healer bowed deeply, respectfully, then turned and, without looking back, slipped around the healing tent, leaving Gabrielle to her task.

***

Though it took nearly a day to walk the path, it took a fraction of that with two strong and spirited horses adding their assistance. Gabrielle gently pulled the wagon to a halt outside a cave that appeared at first glance to be deserted. Gingerly stepping out of the cart, she walked up to the cave opening. "Um...hello? Is anybody home?"

Silence.

"Damn. Manus, you have to be home. There’s no where else I can turn right now."

Sighing at the continued silence, Gabrielle walked back to the bed of the wagon and looked inside. The young woman was still alive, though her breathing was very shallow and her skin remained blue-tinged. "I’m sorry," she whispered to the girl, reaching out to stroke her cheek gently and shivering at the waxen chill of the young woman’s flesh. "I’m so sorry this happened to you."

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and the bard whirled around, pushing against the back of the wagon to protect the precious burden residing within. She relaxed a split-second later as her eyes beheld the very welcome sight of Manus, the Priest of the Fates, his aged face creased with worry.

"Gabrielle, what’s wrong? Are you alright? What is the problem? Are you alone? What do you need?"

Smiling slightly, the bard held up her hands. "I’m fine, Manus. Honest. I came here because I need help, and, well, you’re the only one I can think of to give it to me."

Manus’ face creased further. "I cannot interfere in this, Gabrielle."

"I’m not asking you to interfere, Manus. I’m asking for your help." Stepping away from the wagon, she gestured toward it.

The priest stepped forward, peering into the wagon’s straw-lined bed. Wide-eyed, he turned back to Gabrielle. "Who is she?"

The bard shook her head sadly. "I don’t know. She got caught, somehow, speaking against the Realm, giving voice to the people." Her face set in anger once again. "Xena crucified her."

Manus looked back at the woman. "But...she’s still alive!"

"Yes, I know. And I need to make sure she stays that way. That’s why I’m here." She looked down at the small man. "She’s not safe in Xena’s camp. She’s not really safe anywhere." She laid a hand on Manus’ shoulder. "Can you help?"

Manus looked down at the unconscious woman again. "Her injuries are very severe."

"I know."

"I can’t promise anything."

"I know that, too."

After a long moment, the priest nodded. "Then I shall do the best I can do. Help me bring her into the cave and close by the fire."

***

After unburdening the horses, brushing them down, and leaving them to wander the small corral outside of the healing tent, Gabrielle slipped inside the enclosure, her mind on nothing save for the comfortable cot awaiting her there.

Despite her exhaustion, both mental and physical, her step was much lighter, having left the grievously injured woman in safe hands. She only wished she knew the woman’s name. Did she have any family to mourn her? Anyone who would cry joyously when she walked back into their lives once again?

Or was she truly alone, like Gabrielle herself was alone? A single human being for whom the weight of the entire world rested on her shoulders?

Enough of that. Any more of those kind of thoughts and I’ll never get to sleep.

Blinking in the low lighting, she could see that Tao Feng had done his job well. Where she had left a full tent of injured soldiers, only two remained at her return, both resting comfortably.

From a spot in one shadowed corner, the healer finished washing his hands and turned, a slight smile on his somber face. "Welcome back. Were you successful?"

Gabrielle returned the smile. "Yes. She’s in good hands." She looked around the nearly empty tent again. "Looks like you were pretty successful yourself."

"All part of my plan to ensure that we would both be able to sleep soundly tonight."

The bard yawned and stretched her body, stiff from hours of riding in the uncomfortable wagon. "Sounds good to me. It feels like years since I’ve had a decent night’s sleep."

Tao Feng’s smile deepened. "Then my plan was a success." He gestured to the freshly made cot at his side. "Your bed awaits. Get in and dream of only pleasant things."

Doing as she was bade, Gabrielle groaned as she slipped in between the soft furs of the bed made up for her. She yawned again, rubbing at eyes filled with road dust. "You too, Tao Feng. Sleep well, my friend."

***

The night was dark and heavy with the scents of the earth reveling in the just-passed rain. The fire hissed as the damp branches protested the giving of their precious moisture to the heat of the flames.

Gabrielle lay on her back, luxuriating in the feel of the dry, soft furs dancing against her heated, sweating body. Her gaze was captured in the smoldering glance of eyes gone white-silver with erotic passion.

Raven hair, fragrant with crushed herbs, tickled her shoulders and breasts as the moonlight-gilded body of her sweat-sheened lover rocked sensually against her, stimulating her senses beyond belief.

Her fists planted firmly against the damp ground, Xena thrust against the willing body of her lover, her heavy breasts skimming sweetly over Gabrielle’s moist skin. She growled deep in her chest as her lover’s body opened itself more fully to her, feeling the wet heat as it seared a path along her lower abdomen and back with each thrust of her hips.

Panting heavily with passion’s exertion, Gabrielle turned her head and bit down into the plump, corded muscle of the forearm planted beside her. The action caused Xena to groan and thrust more forcefully against her, her lips parting as her flashing silvered eyes narrowed down to slits.

The heady scents, sights and sounds seemed to coalesce within the body of the bard and she felt that curious drawing up that preceded a breathtakingly powerful release.

Teeth still embedded in salty flesh, Gabrielle reached up with the last of her strength, latched onto her lover’s swaying breasts and drew forth the explosion waiting within her.

Green eyes snapped open in the tent’s night-blackness as breath rushed forth from labored lungs. Gabrielle sat up quickly, senses already tingling danger even through the passion haze of her fading dream.

Her heightened senses caused her to duck and roll, neatly avoiding a rudely grasping hand. The furs tangled around her legs softened her fall to the dirt-packed floor, but she shed the blankets quickly, jumping up and lashing out with one well-muscled leg.

A crash followed a grunting wheeze as the bard’s attacker collapsed onto a nearby cot, his heavy weight shattering the frame and dumping the man to the ground.

More hands grabbed at her, pinning her arms to her sides and encircling her waist. She whipped her head back at the one behind her, catching his trachea and forcing him to let go.

She then twisted, freeing first her right arm, then her left and lashed out with hands and feet, blindly keeping her attackers at bay.

"Back off!" she snarled as an errant hand found its way past her defenses and grabbed at her breast in an attempt to secure a handhold. She kicked back, and high, and got a breathless whimper that told her she’d been on target with the groin shot.

The man crumpled forward against her and she pushed back with all her might, sending him sprawling over several more of the empty cots.

The group closed in again and she fought them off as best she could, getting strong punches and kicks in to sensitive body parts every chance she was able.

After what seemed an eternity, the tent flap opened and a man entered, shadowed by the large bonfire blazing outside. "Stop now, or he dies."

Gabrielle froze as the man stepped slightly to the right, revealing the knife he held to Tao Feng’s long, thin neck. In that instant, the bard knew exactly what it felt like to be Xena during the first couple years of their travels together.

She found she didn’t like it one bit.

Raising her hands, she allowed the men to close in around her once more. She gritted her teeth against the almost overwhelming instinct to lash out against their coarse hands as they dug into her flesh.

The man smiled, the scars on his face giving it a lopsided, evil look. "That’s right, little girl. Play nice and the old man here stays alive."

"What do you want with me," Gabrielle ground out, trying to keep her breathing steady.

"We don’t want you, little girl. The Conqueror does."

Lewd chuckles filled the tent.

"In the middle of the night?"

The man shrugged, then grinned again. "They say that’s when she does her best work."

Laughter rang out again.

"I’ll be sure and tell her you said so," Gabrielle said, smiling insincerely.

The smile disappeared from his face. "Say one word, bitch, and your friend here sees what it’s like to breathe through the hole I’ll put in his neck."

"Fine. Take me to her then."

***

Xena lounged back into the deep well of her throne, garbed in a blue silk robe whose sheerness and cut drove her interior door-guard into periodic fits of apoplexy every time his eyes rose to gaze upon her.

Callisto stalked the huge room like a caged beast, her boot heels ringing on the stone flooring, only to be muffled as she stepped onto the lush carpeting which laid a crimson path to the throne. Her expression was decidedly gleeful as she paced, twirling locks of her long, blonde hair with every step she took.

Hearing the commotion before anyone else, the Conqueror gestured for the door to be opened, which it was, to admit Gabrielle surrounded by her retinue of guards. Walking the young woman to the throne, the guards bowed and the largest of them brought a knee to Gabrielle’s back as an enticement to kneel.

Stepping forward, Gabrielle ignored the blunt summons. Then, locking eyes with Callisto, she slowly, deliberately lowered herself to her knees before the throne, her back straight, her head unbowed.

Looking up at her guards, the Conqueror hid her amused smirk at their dishevelment. One was sporting an already blackening eye, another was rubbing at his throat, and another was holding himself ramrod straight, sweat beading between his bushy brows. Xena well imagined what had been done to him to cause that type of expression. With a flick of her hand, she dismissed the guards, who bowed and exited the room with alacrity.

Anger flashed in Callisto’s dark eyes, but she tempered it with a smirk. "So, the little Amazon knows something about protocol after all, does she? What a plus!"

Ignoring the taunt, Gabrielle turned her eyes to Xena’s, ignoring the temptation to let her gaze wander lower to take in the generous and supple curves so barely hidden by the sheer fabric. "I believe you sent for me?"

The corner of Xena’s mouth curved upwards fractionally in appreciation of Gabrielle’s bold move.

Callisto stepped forward, intentionally towering over the kneeling woman, her eyes alight with absolute knowledge and insane glee. "I believe we haven’t been properly introduced. My name is Callisto. And I am the Conqueror’s partner."

Gabrielle turned her eyes back to her tormentor, well aware of Callisto’s tactics and refusing to rise to the bait being dangled. Instead, she smiled sweetly. "How wonderful for you."

Taken off guard, Callisto’s response was automatic. She drew her hand back swiftly, fully intending to wipe the grin from the bard’s face.

"Callisto..."

The low-voiced rumble of the warning was ominous and Callisto quickly dropped her hand. Instead, she smiled. "It will be so delightful to hear how that pretty tongue of yours speaks when it’s being ripped out of your head like the Roman spies you sent into the camp last night, dear."

Now it was Gabrielle’s turn to be taken off-guard. She had thought that her enforced visit had sprung directly from the young woman she’d rescued from the cross. During her short journey into the castle, she’d thought up many arguments to explain her actions. Now she was being accused of something else altogether. "I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about," she replied honestly.

Callisto laughed. "Oh come now, my dear. Even those fat lumps of goat dung you brought in here thought up more inventive excuses than that! And you call yourself a bard."

The tall blonde froze as she realized her mistake. Gabrielle, however, grinned and pounced. "I believe you have me confused with someone else, Callisto. I’m a healer. Not a bard."

Gabrielle turned her head in time to catch Xena looking at Callisto, a speculative expression on her face. Feeling the gaze, Callisto looked back, smiling innocently. "I heard the soldiers talk about her skill at telling stories."

Gabrielle groaned inwardly, forgetting that she had, indeed, attempted to cheer up the injured men by telling them stories. Still, it was good to know that there were chinks in Callisto’s armor. That gave her hope. "I won’t deny that I told the men stories. If that makes me a bard in your eyes, so be it."

"Well I, for one, would just love to hear the little tale you’ve concocted to explain just how you managed to show up here on the very day our men were attacked and the Roman spies were found trying to run away."

"Coincidence."

Callisto threw back her head and laughed. "’Coincidence’? Surely you can do better than that, can’t you?"

"It’s the truth, and you know it, Callisto."

Grinning wildly, Callisto looked down at Gabrielle, fingering the hollow of her neck. "Oh I do, do I?" Her smile became a snarl. "The only thing I know, you annoying little brat, is that Persian soldiers dressed as Egyptians attacked the Conqueror’s men in an obvious attempt to allow three Roman spies to escape with some sort of information which cost them their tongues and hands."

Callisto smirked at Gabrielle’s pained wince.

"And all the while, a strange woman bearing the staff of an Amazon Queen coincidentally happens to find herself in the middle of the mayhem." She turned to the watching Conqueror. "Are you buying this load of dung?"

When Xena didn’t answer, Callisto turned back to Gabrielle, who spoke first. "I was fighting those men, Callisto, same as you were."

"Ohhhhh, you were fighting them. With what? Your little stick? Bet you didn’t kill any though, did you."

Gabrielle gritted her teeth. "I. Don’t. Kill."

Callisto smiled sweetly. "Of course you don’t, dear. How fortunate for the ‘enemy’ you’re fighting against."

Clenching her fists, the bard managed to keep a hold on a temper that was growing more heated by the second.

"But then again, you always were too much of a goody-goody to relish a good kill, weren’t you."

The moment the words were out of her mouth, Callisto paled, frozen to the spot. Forcing her muscles to move, she slowly turned her head, only to be captured by a pair of glittering blue eyes. "That...didn’t quite come out the way I meant it to."

"I’m sure it didn’t," Xena replied, leaning slowly forward in her chair, her smile dark and hungry.

"I could explain - "

"Leave."

"But - "

"Leave."

Making her first truly wise decision of the evening, the Conqueror’s second in command spun on her heel and, after shooting a deadly glare toward the still kneeling Gabrielle, strode from the room as quickly as her legs could carry her.

After the door closed, Xena rose gracefully to her feet and closed the distance between herself and Gabrielle. "Get up." Her voice was deathly soft.

The bard stood quickly, ignoring the swimming sensation in her head, a sensation caused as much from the abrupt change in position as from the sudden and menacing presence of Xena just inches away. Still, she managed to meet the Conqueror’s eyes without fear.

"How do you know Callisto."

Gabrielle’s mind whirled with a thousand thoughts as the words suddenly dried up in her throat.

Reaching out, Xena tilted the younger woman’s chin upward, her grip biting. "Answer me quickly, Amazon, or the fate of those Roman spies will be the Elysian Fields compared to what I’ll do to you."

Swallowing hard, Gabrielle decided to go with what she knew.

The truth.

Or as much of it as she could reveal, given the circumstances.

"She killed my husband," she said softly.

Xena felt a brief moment of shock, that being the last answer she would have suspected, but refrained from letting it show. She continued to stare silently at the smaller woman, waiting.

"We had only been married a day, and we were both unarmed, but she killed him anyway in cold blood."

"So your being here was a ruse to get you close enough to take your revenge on her."

Gabrielle’s eyes flashed. "No. When I said I didn’t kill, I was telling you the truth." She took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "I wanted to kill her at the time. I wanted to rip her heart out and feed it to her." She dropped her eyes, remembering. "But I didn’t."

Xena was intrigued. "And why was that."

"Because a friend convinced me that losing my blood innocence over someone like Callisto just wasn’t worth it. And she was right."

"And where is that ‘friend’ now?"

Gabrielle looked back up, staring deep into Xena’s penetrating eyes and speaking a truth in her heart. "She’s dead."

"Then there’s really nothing stopping you from going after Callisto, is there."

Green eyes blazed with determination. "Yes, there is. My friend may be gone, but her message, and her love, lives on in my heart. And no one can take that away from me. Not Callisto. Not even you."

Dropping her hand away from Gabrielle’s face, Xena turned and walked back to her throne, lowering herself into the seat with fluid grace. She smiled slightly; the first expression of true emotion Gabrielle had seen from her. "You intrigue me, Amazon. At first I thought you a simple spy, perhaps in collusion with Callisto. But you have depths to you which reach far beyond that."

Gabrielle looked up, stunned. "Would you mind, uh, backing up a little? 'In collusion with Callisto?’ What does that mean, exactly?"

The bard’s heart twisted slightly as the familiar and beloved gesture of Xena’s characteristic eyebrow-raise was directed at her. "Perhaps I should reassess my opinion of your intelligence."

"Are you trying to tell me you know that Callisto’s out to get you?" Gabrielle asked, wide-eyed.

The Conqueror gestured toward the room around her. "One doesn’t attain this type of position without being well aware of what’s going on around oneself." Her eyes, though, spoke other messages, ones of betrayal and trusts brutally broken, of lessons learned the hard way, and of the absolute determination never to let it happen again.

Confused, Gabrielle scratched at the back of her neck. "Forgive me for saying this then, but why in the world do you keep her around?"

Xena’s smile became dark. "Keep your friends close; your enemies closer."

"But you said you don’t have any friends."

"Exactly."

"And am I your enemy?"

"As I said, I have no friends."

Gabrielle’s gaze shone with compassion. "That’s a very lonely way to live a life."

Xena’s eyebrow went up again. "That depends on who’s living it."

"I disagree," Gabrielle replied, warming to her subject. "To live without love is something none of us should be forced to experience."

The Conqueror snorted. "Love is a myth told to beggars by bards to let them forget the hunger in their bellies. It is a weakness to anyone who thinks they possess it."

"You’re wrong," Gabrielle said, forgetting, in her passion, just who she was talking to. "Love does exist. It’s not a weakness. It’s a strength."

"Spoken like a true zealot." Looking over the bard’s left shoulder, Xena gestured with one hand, causing Gabrielle to look in that direction and watch as two gorgeous women walked gracefully forward from the shadows. The smaller of the two, a beautiful Asian, bore a large bowl in her hands, while the taller woman held a gem-encrusted decanter and matching goblet. When they reached the throne, Niamey and Ling Li knelt down and held up their offerings to the Conqueror.

Gabrielle fought down the tiny seed of jealousy that threatened to raise its head over the display.

At Xena’s nod, Niamey poured the liquid from the decanter into the goblet, then handed it to her Ruler.

Drinking deep of the sweet wine, the Conqueror used her other hand to reach into the bowl of oiled olives, her long, slim fingers plucking one from the rest and casually popping it into her mouth. As she separated the meat from the pit, Xena looked down at the young blonde, watching the healer watch her lips. "Tell me, Amazon," she said, almost casually, "when my men put that young woman on the cross, did you feel her pain?"

Gabrielle’s eyes narrowed. "Yes. She didn’t deserve to be executed for giving the people hope."

Fishing another olive from the bowl, the Conqueror nodded, expecting the answer she received. "How is she, by the way?" she asked, eyeing the ripe olive as if it were a rare and precious jewel.

Gabrielle just managed to keep her jaw from dropping open at the casually uttered question. She swallowed hard as her heart sped its rate in her chest. "She’s safe."

"Mmm."

The bard willed Xena to meet her gaze, but the Conqueror continued to roll the olive between her fingers, watching as the light from the torches played off its shining skin.

"It’s just as well. The girl meant very little to me in any case." It was then that Xena looked up, her gaze intense with knowledge. "The message was received, as intended." She smiled slightly. "And I should thank you for your act. You managed to prevent me further troubles down the road."

"I don’t understand."

"You mean you didn’t see my little display?"

"What display?"

Xena rose gracefully to her feet and stepped between her two attendants. "Come," she said to Gabrielle, who followed her to the window.

Upon looking out, the bard gasped.

Where one empty cross had stood just hours before, six now stood, each bearing the body of a slowly dying soldier.

"If it hadn’t been for your rescue of the girl, I might not have known until too late that members of my Royal Guard could be so easily duped by a parlor trick." Xena bowed slightly, mockingly. "So, thank you for that. You saved me a great deal of trouble."

Gritting her teeth in angry frustration, Gabrielle whirled away from the window and strode once again into the center of the room, breathing heavily to keep from giving vent to her anger and horror.

Turning from the window, Xena leaned back against the cool stone, crossing her arms and smirking at the angry young healer. "So you see, Amazon, what you call ‘love’ is a weakness. For every person you save in its name, six more die because of it. Not a very profitable venture."

"Profit?! We’re talking about human lives here and you’re worried about profit?" Gabrielle’s eyes blazed with righteous indignation. "What kind of a monster are you??"

The Conqueror sneered. "A very powerful one."

Threading her hands through her own hair, Gabrielle pulled at it, shaking her head. "No. No, I’m not going to let you pull me down to your level. I won’t." Releasing her head, the bard looked up at the Conqueror, who was still smirking at her from beside the casement. "Xena, I know that beneath those trappings of godhood and feigned indifference, there’s a woman in there capable of compassion and love. I know it."

Pushing herself away from the wall, Xena walked over to Gabrielle, stopping just inches away. "Don’t delude yourself, Amazon. Others before you held the same convictions." The corner of her mouth curled. "They don’t feel that way anymore."

"No?" Gabrielle turned her head and looked over at Niamey and Ling Li, who were watching the proceedings avidly, if obliquely. "What about them?" She turned her gaze back to the woman towering over her. "I saw the looks in their eyes when they served you, Xena. And that look was love. If they can love you, there must be something inside you worthy of that emotion."

Xena looked at the two women still kneeling by her throne. As one, they blushed deeply, then looked down, heads bowed in unison. She turned back to Gabrielle, one hand reaching out to cup the young woman’s chin. "I’ll show you what they ‘love’ about me."

Lowering her head slowly, the Conqueror captured her healer’s lips in a kiss filled with animal passion. At first, Gabrielle sunk into it, the feelings the familiar action engendered too strong to resist. Her hands moved of their own accord, reaching up to tangle in Xena’s thick, fragrant hair and pull the taller woman more closely against her.

After a moment, though, her mind caught up to her hormones and she pulled away, trying to steady her rapid breathing and fluttering pulse. "That was lust, Xena. Don’t confuse it with love."

Xena smiled. "In the darkness of the night, the line between the two often becomes blurred." She pulled the smaller woman in close once more, pressing her lips against Gabrielle’s, before grasping her wrist in an iron grip and whirling around. "Niamey, draw a bath. Now."

"Don’t do this, Xena," Gabrielle said, struggling fruitlessly to disengage from the Conqueror’s vice grip.

"Monsters can do anything they wish, Amazon. And you’re about to find out exactly what this monster wishes to do to you."

"Xena..." Continuing her struggle, Gabrielle looked desperately over to the two silent servants, seeking help. Niamey had already arisen at her Ruler’s order, and Ling Li lowered her eyes in shame as the bard’s gaze touched hers.

Ignoring the healer’s attempts at escape, Xena strode forward toward her bathing chamber, giving Gabrielle little recourse but to stumble along behind the dark Empress or risk having her arm torn from its socket. Though she had firsthand knowledge of Xena’s legendary strength, that knowing didn’t stop her attempts to free herself in the slightest.

It also didn’t give her any success in the venture.

Upon entering the bathing chamber, Gabrielle was tossed into the arms of a surprised Niamey, who just managed to keep them both from toppling backwards into the rapidly filling tub. The tall African wrapped both arms around the smaller woman and steadied them both before releasing Gabrielle and looking over her head toward the sneering Conqueror, eyebrows raised in silent question.

"See to it that she’s cleaned and bring her to my rooms."

"Yes, Majesty."

Xena turned away, then looked back slightly over one broad shoulder. "I wouldn’t think of escaping if I were you. If you succeed, they’ll pay."

Gabrielle didn’t even bother to look up, having long since figured that Xena would seek to teach yet another lesson by using the bard’s compassion against her. Instead, she began to calmly undo the blouse so painstakingly re-sewn by Tao Feng’s talented hands, a part of her even managing to look forward to the first hot bath she’d enjoy in long weeks.

***

Freshly bathed and proudly naked, Gabrielle walked into the Conqueror’s private sleeping quarters, flanked on either side by Niamey and Ling Li.

Xena’s gaze was hot upon her as she walked forward, stopping only when she came close enough to feel the heat emanating from her avid watcher’s body. The Conqueror still wore her sheer robe, though it was unbelted and open enough to show the innermost curves of her breasts and the tiniest hint of the silken skin of her taut abdomen.

Looking down into the searing gaze, Gabrielle smiled; an open, sunny expression without a trace of fear or lust she knew the Conqueror would expect.

Xena’s eyes narrowed.

The bard’s smile broadened..

"What game are you playing, Amazon?"

"Gabrielle."

"What?"

"My name. Gabrielle. It occurs to me that you’ve never used it." She cocked her head slightly. "Why is that?"

Xena’s gaze sharpened and her lips parted in a soundless snarl, yet she made no move to capture the alluring body standing to tauntingly close to her own.

"Could it be that my name makes me a person, like you? Is that why you won’t use it?"

Growling, the Conqueror lashed out and captured Gabrielle’s wrist, pulling her down onto the bed and onto her back, covering the smaller woman with her larger body.

Gabrielle forced herself to lie still and pliant under the Conqueror’s ravishing lips, neither spurning nor encouraging the primal advances.

After a moment, Xena pulled away, looking down at her.

"I won’t fight you, Xena. If that’s what you’re looking for, I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed."

The Conqueror smiled. "Oh," she purred, "I don’t think I will."

Again, the bard forced herself not to react. It was a difficult task, with half of her body wanting nothing more than to respond to the familiar fires Xena was stoking in her body, and the other half screaming all-out rebellion against the Conqueror’s actions. With effort, she drew upon the meditative techniques the warrior herself had taught her to remain as still and relaxed as possible as Xena’s hands followed her lips on a trek over Gabrielle’s sleek body.

After several more moments, Xena again pulled back. "Am I keeping you awake?"

Opening her eyes, Gabrielle stared up into the sardonic blue’s above her. "You wanted my body, Xena. You have it. My soul isn’t yours to take."

Grinning with malicious intent, Xena palmed one of Gabrielle’s breasts, squeezing slightly. "Oh? And who is the proud owner of such a prize?"

Taking in a deep breath, Gabrielle forced herself to remember that the cruel and calculating woman above her was the same person, down to the last molecule, as the woman who did own what the Conqueror couldn’t take. That, but for the simple intervention of one brave man, her Xena and this Xena would be one in the same.

Letting go the breath, she put all the boundless love she held for her soulmate into the strength of her gaze, staring directly into the stormy eyes of the Ruler of Greece.

Caught in the untold power of the gaze, Xena pulled sharply away as if burned, her own eyes wide and blinking, yet not having the strength to look away.

Gabrielle smiled, a soft and gentle expression, and tenderly lifted her palm to place flat against Xena’s cheek. "Love is the answer, Xena," she whispered.

For the briefest of seconds, Xena leaned her cheek into the warm palm of her healer, something in her drawn to the almost maternal comfort offered.

Then, as if coming fully into herself once again, she jerked her face away, then removed her hand from Gabrielle’s breast and flung the young woman from her bed to sprawl in an untidy heap on the cold stone floor. She looked up, eyes blazing. "Ling Li, call a guard."

Bowing hurriedly, the Chinese woman gathered up the folds of her colorful robe and dashed away on bare feet.

Rolling out of the bed, Xena grabbed Gabrielle by her already bruised and swollen wrist and pulled her to her feet, her eyes blazing. "Whatever sorcery you’re conjuring won’t work with me, Amazon. You’re very close to having your life ended simply because it would please me to do so." She grabbed the bard more tightly and shook her. "Don’t press your luck."

Before Gabrielle could think to reply—had one even been formulating in her head—Ling Li returned, a strapping guard in tow.

Xena pushed the healer away and into the professional hands of the older guard. "Confine her to one of the rooms in this hall and guard her well. If she isn’t in my throne room at dawn, you’ll be joining your fellows on the crosses outside. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Majesty."

"Leave me. All of you."

***

The castle servants had cleaned quite well and, lacking anything new or priceless to break, Callisto sat on her bed, thrusting her knife through the feather mattress and silk sheets, her face a twisted mask of anger.

When the half-expected light began to coalesce in her room, the warrior threw her knife, not at all surprised to find Ares, fully formed, tossing it in his hand and grinning. "Now, is that any way to great an old friend?"

"I’m sorry. Did someone make us ‘friends’ when I wasn’t looking?"

Laughing heartily, Ares flipped the knife back at Callisto, who caught it easily and slipped it into the sheath at her waist. "What do you want,." she asked, scowling.

The war-god shrugged. "I was in the neighborhood. Figured I’d pop in and see how things were going."

"You know damn well how things are going, Ares. That annoying little bitch is going to ruin everything!"

"And which annoying little bitch would that be again?" At Callisto’s murderous glare, Ares grinned. "Oh. That annoying little bitch." He shrugged again, the leather going tight against his shoulders and chest. "It’s not as if I didn’t warn you."

Callisto laughed mirthlessly. "Fat lot of good that did, Ares. Xena and the little brat are probably in her room right now going at it like rabbits!"

"Unfortunately, no." Ares sighed in affected disappointment. "I was hoping for a hot and heavy session of girl/girl action, but no dice, I’m afraid. Seems the little do-gooder pissed Xena off and spoiled the mood." He sighed again.

"I’m terribly sorry for the waste of a perfectly good hard-on, Ares, but that information, fascinating as it is, really doesn’t help me with my little problem, now does it."

"Who said I was trying to help? You’re the one who can’t keep her stories straight, not me."

Callisto’s dark eyes narrowed. "And you were enjoying every second of it, weren’t you."

Ares grinned. "Call me a sucker for a good tap-dance."

When Callisto didn’t rise to the bait, Ares contented himself with looking around the nearly denuded room. His gaze fell upon a heavy wooden table that had somehow managed to withstand the blonde’s insane rage. "Hello, what do we have here?"

Lacking anything better to do, Callisto rose to her feet and walked over to the table, looking down at the inlaid object that Ares was rubbing his index finger against. Then she looked up at the dark god. "It’s called a ‘rock’. Pry it out, why don’t you? I’m sure it’ll make a perfect match to the ones already in your head."

"Play nice, Callisto, or I’ll start to wonder why you don’t recognize the importance of this stone and give it to my sister instead. We all know how much she likes her little baubles." Ares stuck a finger in his mouth in a faux gag.

"Oh please fill me in, Ares. Won’t you?"

The god of war smirked. "Well, since you asked so nicely..." Using his powers, Ares easily levitated the stone into his palm, then tossed it lightly into the air, grinning. "Are you sure you don’t recognize it?"

Snarling, Callisto made a grab for the stone and missed, badly.

"Ah, ah, ah. You didn’t say the magic word."

"Bite me," the blonde growled.

"Close enough." As Ares bent forward, teeth bared, Callisto slipped away, grabbing the stone at the same time and peering closely at it. She then looked up at Ares, eyebrows raised.

"That, my dear, just happens to be the Ixion Stone."

Callisto looked back to the stone in her hand, disbelief stamped clearly across her features. "This is the Ixion Stone?"

Ares cocked his head. "I think that hearing problem of yours is getting worse. I’d see a healer about it pretty soon if I were you." He grinned. "Gabrielle’d be perfect for the job."

Callisto pointedly ignored Ares’ taunt as she stared at the stone in her hand. "So this is why that incompetent little piece of goat dung follows Xena around like a drowned puppy."

Ares folded his arms across his massive chest. "And which piece of goat dung would we be talking about now?"

Looking up, Callisto bared her teeth in an evil grin. "Dagnine, of course. This stone is the only goal in his miserable little life. Xena must be holding it over his head to insure that he does her bidding." Her eyelids fluttered closed. "She’s soooo good."

"That she is, my dear. That she most definitely is."

"Won’t he be surprised when he finds out who has this little trinket now?" Throwing her head back, she laughed, rattling the stone in her hand. Her eyes snapped open as a delicious idea popped into her head. "That’s it! I’ll use him to get the annoying brat out of the way, then use Xena to get him out of the way! It’s perfect!"

The war god pointed an enthusiastic finger at Callisto. "You have a really evil mind. I like that in a woman."

"Spare me."

Ares smoothed his beard and smiled. "Too bad Dagnine isn’t a storyteller like Gabrielle," he said after a moment.

"And why is that?"

"Because then, you could kill two bards with one stone! Get it?" Laughing uproariously, Ares sparkled out of existence, leaving a groaning Callisto behind.

#xena #xena warrior princess #xena/gabrielle #xena/gabrielle fanfiction #xwp #femslash #fanfiction #mature #author: swordnquil

5 notes · View notes

romancatholicreflections · 5 years

Photo

18th December >> Fr. Martin's Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Matthew 1:18-24 for 18th December (Tuesday, Third Week of Advent): ‘You must name him Jesus’.

18th December (Tuesday, Third Week of Advent)

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Matthew 1:18-24

How Jesus Christ came to be born

This is how Jesus Christ came to be born. His mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph; but before they came to live together she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph; being a man of honour and wanting to spare her publicity, decided to divorce her informally. He had made up his mind to do this when the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because she has conceived what is in her by the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son and you must name him Jesus, because he is the one who is to save his people from their sins.’ Now all this took place to fulfil the words spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son

and they will call him Emmanuel,

a name which means ‘God-is-with-us.’ When Joseph woke up he did what the angel of the Lord had told him to do: he took his wife to his home.

Gospel (USA)

Matthew 1:18-25

Jesus was born of Mary, the betrothed of Joseph, a son of David.

This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about. When his mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found with child through the Holy Spirit. Joseph her husband, since he was a righteous man, yet unwilling to expose her to shame, decided to divorce her quietly. Such was his intention when, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home. For it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her. She will bear a son and you are to name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet:

Behold, the virgin shall be with child and bear a son,

and they shall name him Emmanuel,

which means “God is with us.” When Joseph awoke, he did as the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took his wife into his home. He had no relations with her until she bore a son, and he named him Jesus.

Reflections (6)

(i) 18th December (Tuesday, Third Week of Advent)

When we hear the term ‘annunciation’, we think of the annunciation of the birth of Jesus by the angel Gabriel to Mary, which is to be found in Luke’s gospel. There is another story of the annunciation of the birth of Jesus in Matthew’s gospel. Once again, an angel of the Lord announces the birth of Jesus, but, in Matthew’s version, the announcement is made to Joseph, not to Mary. Indeed, whereas it is Mary who is prominent in the various stories relating to the birth of Jesus in Luke’s gospel, in Matthew’s gospel, it is Joseph who is the more prominent one in the stories relating to the birth of Jesus. It is just one example of how the particular perspective of each gospel complements and enriches the perspectives of the other gospels. In our gospel reading, the angel announces the birth of Jesus to Joseph after he discovers that Mary is pregnant. Joseph was betrothed to Mary but they hadn’t come to live together as husband and wife. What was Joseph to think? His solution was to divorce her quietly, being sensitive to her situation, while being realistic about what had happened. The annunciation to Joseph was with a view to enlightening him as to what had really happened, ‘she has conceived what is in her by the Holy Spirit’. Joseph was floundering until that moment. He speaks to our own experience as people of faith. We too can flounder when it comes to knowing what the best and decent thing to do is, what the Lord is asking of us. Our initial decision, well intentioned as it may be, is not always the best one. Like Joseph, we sometimes need the Lord’s guidance to take the path which is best for all. We can be sure of receiving it, if we ask for it in prayer.

And/Or

(ii) 18th December

When we hear the term the ‘Annunciation’ we probably think of the story of the angel Gabriel’s annunciation to Mary in the gospel of Luke. This is the scene that has captured the imagination of artists all through the centuries. In Matthew’s gospel, however, there is no annunciation to Mary, but there is an annunciation to Joseph. That is the gospel reading we have just heard. In Luke’s gospel, the angel Gabriel says to Mary, ‘Do not be afraid’. In Matthew, the nameless angel says to Joseph, ‘Do not be afraid’. God was doing something new, something extraordinary, in the life of Mary and of Joseph, indeed, in the life of the human race. The unprecedented nature of what God was doing led to understandable fear and anxiety in the lives of those most directly affected, Mary and Joseph. Both of them needed a word of reassurance, ‘Do not be afraid’ at the beginning of this new phase of what God was doing. In times of transition when disturbing events are occurring around us, we all need to hear those words, ‘Do not be afraid’. They are words which assure us of God’s presence, God-with-us, Emmanuel, at the heart of all that is happening, even at the heart of Calvary.

And/Or

(iii) 18th December

Joseph features very prominently in Matthew’s telling of the story of the birth and childhood of Jesus. In this morning’s gospel reading, Joseph finds himself in a dilemma. Although betrothed to Mary and, therefore, legally husband and wife, they had not yet lived as husband and wife together and, yet, Mary was pregnant with child. This was a less than ideal situation for Joseph and he tried to do the decent thing by intending to divorce Mary quietly and informally. It was only subsequently that it was revealed to Joseph that Mary’s pregnancy was miraculous, the work of the Holy Spirit. Her child would be legally his but would be God’s child in a unique way. We often find ourselves, like Joseph, in situations that are not ideal. Things turn out in a way that we had not intended and had not wanted. We can be thrown by the unexpected course of events and we wonder what we should be doing. Sometimes what is asked of us is to do the decent thing, the good thing, the generous and noble thing. In doing that much, we open ourselves up to the Lord’s presence and to his life-giving work. In time he can reveal to us the good in the situation that we did not originally see.

And/Or

(iv) 18th December

In Matthew’s account of the birth of Jesus it is Joseph who features prominently, rather than Mary as is the case in Luke’s account of the birth of Jesus. In the history of art, Joseph tends to be depicted as an older man. In reality, he must have been a young, vibrant man, not much older than his young betrothed, Mary. He is described in this morning’s gospel reading as a ‘man of honour’. A more literal translation would be a ‘just man’. However, his was a justice that was tempered by mercy. Having discovered that Mary, his legal wife at the time, was pregnant with child before they had come to live together, the justice of the Jewish Law would have permitted Joseph to expose Mary publicly, and the consequences for Mary would have been very serious. Instead, Joseph decided to divorce her informally and quietly. He showed that quality of mercy that would characterize Jesus’ interpretation of the Jewish Law. It was subsequently announced to Joseph, by an angel, that Mary had conceived her child through the Holy Spirit and that she had not been unfaithful to Joseph. In obedience to the word of the angel, Joseph immediately took Mary to his home as his wife. Joseph is someone we can identify with in many ways. We resonate with his struggle to do the right thing, the decent thing, the good thing in the complex circumstances that life often throws up. In this struggle he was clearly open to God’s guidance and that openness ensured that, in the end, he did what God wanted of him. We can all learn from this good and decent man.

And/Or

(v) 18th December

Joseph features very prominently in the story of Jesus’ birth that we find in Matthew’s gospel. Luke’s account of Jesus’ birth places more of a focus on Mary. In this morning’s gospel reading from Matthew, Joseph is portrayed as finding himself in a very confusing and awkward situation. Although betrothed to Mary, they have not yet come to live together as husband and wife, and, yet, he discovers that Mary is with child. He can only conclude that Mary has broken the sixth commandment. In this situation his basic decency shows itself in his desire to divorce her in a way that protected Mary and spared her publicity. In those few verses, Matthew gives us a sense of Joseph as a decent man, a good man who seeks to do the very best in a difficult situation that was not of his making. A messenger from the Lord, that allowed Joseph to understand the real reason for Mary’s pregnancy. She conceived what was in her by the Holy Spirit. Once again, Joseph shows his decency, his fundamental goodness, his deep faith, in going on to do what the angel has instructed him to do, take Mary home as his wife. Reading that gospel story, we sense that Jesus was very fortunate to have such a special man for his father throughout his formative years. Joseph’s deeply rooted faith which shaped his character must have had a hugely formative impact on the child Jesus, enabling him to grow in wisdom and in favour before God and others. Joseph can be an inspiration to us all. He reminds us that we are all called to help the Lord to grow in each other. Our own goodness, decency and faith can be a very significant force for good in the lives of others. As we grow in our own relationship with the Lord, we are helping others to do the same, without us always realizing it.

And/Or

(vi) 18th December

In today’s gospel reading we find Joseph struggling to do the right thing, what he believed God wanted of him. Mary’s unexplained pregnancy left him in a very difficult situation. Presuming that her pregnancy indicated she had been unfaithful to him, Joseph found himself torn between what he understood God’s law required him to do, viz. divorce Mary, and his own affectionate feelings for her. In this confusing situation, the gospel reading tells us that Joseph received guidance from the Lord, - guidance he promptly followed. The complex situation in which Joseph found himself is not unlike the kind of situations in which many of us find ourselves from time to time. In so many of life’s situations the best way forward is not always immediately clear. Like Joseph in the gospel reading, we can find ourselves torn between what our head is telling us and what our heart is saying to us. The gospel reading today invites us to have something of the openness of Joseph to the Lord’s guidance. Joseph received the Lord’s guidance through an angel. The Lord’s guidance will come to us through more ordinary means, such as through those in whom we confide. Their perspective on the situation we are struggling with can often bring a new and a fresh light. We can also experience the Lord’s guidance through prayer. In prayer we allow the Lord to enlighten our minds and hearts so that we can move forward in the light that he provides.

Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland.

Email: [email protected] or [email protected]

Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ie Please join us via our webcam.

Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC.

Facebook: St John the Baptist RC Parish, Clontarf.

Tumblr: Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin.

1 note · View note

frmartinshomiliesandreflections · 3 years

Photo

18th December >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Matthew 1:18-24 for The 18th December: ‘She has conceived what is in her by the Holy Spirit’.

18th December

Gospel (Except USA)

Matthew 1:18-24

How Jesus Christ came to be born

The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son and they will call him Emmanuel,

a name which means ‘God-is-with-us.’ When Joseph woke up he did what the angel of the Lord had told him to do: he took his wife to his home.

Gospel (USA)

Matthew 1:18-25

Jesus was born of Mary, the betrothed of Joseph, a son of David.

Behold, the virgin shall be with child and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel,

Reflections (8)

(i) 18th December

On the 8th December, Pope Francis issued an Apostolic Letter called “With a Father’s Heart”, in which he recalls the 150th anniversary of the declaration of Saint Joseph as Patron of the Universal Church. To mark the occasion of this Apostolic Letter, Pope Francis proclaimed a “Year of Saint Joseph” from 8th December 2020, to 8 December 2021. In his Apostolic Letter, the Pope describes Saint Joseph as a beloved father, a tender and loving father, an obedient father, an accepting father; a father who is creatively courageous, a working father, a father in the shadows. He wrote the letter against the backdrop of the Covid-19 pandemic, which, he says, has helped us see more clearly the importance of “ordinary” people who, although far from the limelight, exercise patience and offer hope every day. In this, the Pope says, they resemble Saint Joseph, whom he describes as “the man who goes unnoticed, a daily, discreet and hidden presence,” and, yet, played “an incomparable role in the history of salvation.” In today’s gospel reading, Joseph consents to become the father of the child of his betrothed, Mary, a child conceived through the power of the Holy Spirit. The gospel reading suggests that, when he first heard the news of Mary’s pregnancy, he decided to divorce her informally. He didn’t understand initially what God was asking of him. When he realized that what he had planned to do was not what God was asking him to do, he submitted completely to God’s will for his life, which was to immediately take Mary home as his wife. Like Joseph, we can all struggle to know and to do what God is asking of us. We can begin to go down a path which is not God’s desire for us, just as Joseph did. However, Joseph shows us that if we keep on seeking after what God is asking of us, God will somehow reveal his will to us. Joseph had to discern over time what God was asking of him, and that can be true of us all. In our efforts to discern God’s will, God’s desire, for our lives, Saint Joseph can be a good companion, someone we can turn to in prayer, for help with our discerning.

And/Or

(ii) 18th December

And/Or

(iii) 18th December

And/Or

(iv) 18th December

And/Or

(v) 18th December

And/Or

(vi) 18th December

In today’s gospel reading we find Joseph struggling to do the right thing, what he believed God wanted of him. Mary’s unexplained pregnancy left him in a very difficult situation. Presuming that her pregnancy indicated she had been unfaithful to him, Joseph found himself torn between what he understood God’s law required him to do, viz. divorce Mary, and his own affectionate feelings for her. In this confusing situation, the gospel reading tells us that Joseph received guidance from the Lord, which he promptly followed. The complex situation in which Joseph found himself is not unlike the kind of situations in which many of us find ourselves from time to time. In so many of life’s situations the best way forward is not always immediately clear. Like Joseph in the gospel reading, we can find ourselves torn between what our head is telling us and what our heart is saying to us. The gospel reading today invites us to have something of the openness of Joseph to the Lord’s guidance. Joseph received the Lord’s guidance through an angel. The Lord’s guidance will often come to us through more ordinary means, such as through those in whom we confide. Their perspective on the situation we are struggling with can often bring a new and a fresh light. We can also experience the Lord’s guidance through prayer. In prayer we allow the Lord to enlighten our minds and hearts so that we can move forward in the light that he provides.

And/Or

(vii) 18th December

As we are only a week away from the feast of Christmas, the gospel readings for this week focus on the events associated with the birth and childhood of Jesus. This morning’s gospel reading is Matthew’s account of the annunciation of the birth of Jesus. In Luke’s gospel, the annunciation of Jesus’ birth is made to Mary; in Matthew’s gospel, it is made to Joseph. Artists have tended to depict Luke’s version of the annunciation to Mary much more often than Matthew’s version of the annunciation to Joseph. In both accounts, the angel announces that Mary is to conceive her child through the Holy Spirit. In both accounts there is a rich description of the unique identity of the child. Matthew’s account of the annunciation highlights two aspects of the identity of Mary’s child. He is to be named Jesus, a name which means in Hebrew ‘the Lord saves’, because he is to save God’s people from their sins. He is also to be named Emmanuel, which is Hebrew means ‘God is with us’. Combining these names indicates that Jesus is the presence of the loving mercy of God. When we look upon this child, we are looking upon God with us, or as Saint Paul says, God for us, working to reconcile us to himself. Jesus was born, lived and died, to reconcile us to God, to lead us back to God. At the last meal Jesus had with his disciples before his death, the last supper, he said, ‘this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins’. It is because Jesus is the face of God’s mercy that we celebrate his birth with such gladness and hope. He has shown us that nothing need come between us and the love of God.

And/Or

(viii) 18th December

Fr. Martin Hogan.

0 notes

lyricalt · 6 years

Text

2017 fic round up + annual fic meme

It’s that time again, folks. Let’s see the damage.

THE LIST

*drabble/stuff under 1k words +wip

Boku No Hero Academia

Tell - inatodo

Destiny

hardcase* - implied andal brask/cayde-6

a code of you - original character: sol-6

Gamble* - andal brask/Cayde-6

Integrate

got a feel for you* - post-canon seep - pre-canon

Overwatch

R76

feel something*

Fourth Date Stuff

Prompt: cut*

punchline

GEN / MISC.

a priori - time travel, Reaper&Gabriel Reyes

gift for gift - gen - Reaper, Widowmaker, Ana Amari, Jack Morrison (mentioned)

all his cards you want to touch - Jesse McCree (Vigilante)/Jesse McCree (Riverboat)

cross your heart and hope - Destiny AU: has mcgenji, implied r76. Too lazy to link to individual pieces on ao3, so I only linked the ones only on tumblr.

Showteam+

Trigger happy

of all just fools - Destiny 2 AU

MCGENJI

not far from home vantage make you sway Prompt: rainy day* Prompt: surprise* must be love cut* devil gave me a crooked start down and doubt - (background implied r76) on your mark+ - AU where genji is a motorcycle and mccree is a mechanic. serial never had much faith (in love or miracles)* Carry case of six wake up calls: 1, 2, 3 Beach drabbles: 1, 2, 3 like you would to a point, to your knees damned if you do - incubus mccree/oni genji sun steel / soul intersect count to three triple threat+ Prompt: kiss on the back of the hand*

Total number of completed stories: 33, excluding drabbles and some prompts.

Total word count: AO3 stats say around 56,500. I’ll ballpark it 60,000.

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted?

I wrote more words and more fic this year, but a bunch of it were very short stories! Shorter than my usual, I think. I am also very in love with the Destiny AU so I think that had a lot to do with my high word count. I also wrote a lot on the side I never posted, ahaha. I think I was very distracted this year by too many fandoms/ideas. Ah well.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January?

Nah. I’m predictable. I’m still side-eyeing the genji-as-a-motorcycle AU though. I did that?

What’s your own favorite story of the year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you happiest?

CARRY. It was Carry. I loved writing that stupid fic. It was so dumb but I feel so vindictive and about it because I wrote it to have fun and also to express some exasperation about a couple of mcgnj tropes I felt were kinda not-my-thing. BUT!! it makes me happy that a lot of other people enjoyed it too and also @vfordii drew THIS.

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

I don’t feel like I took any huge risks. I am pretty comfortable with the subject matter I write (--though I think it’s more of a matter of motivation and sticking to it). I, uh, did write some bottom/sub mccree which is somehow not all that popular within the mcgenji fandom and let me tell you this was hugely a case of “if no one will write it then I will but I will complain about it for the entire time”. I wouldn’t consider it a risk though, but I did learn a bit about how to comfortably write dirty talk without needing it to be explicitly written. I don’t think it shows up a lot in my current fics but I’ve been taking note of what sounds right to me vs how much I want to write, if that makes sense.

Also for the record all my mcgnj fic is implied sexual dynamic sub/bottom mccree, like, in the case it ever happens. (I’m kidding. Or am I. I am. (Not really.) No, I’m dead serious.)

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the New Year?

Finish the damn fics I start, why don’t I!!!!! (This is a constant goal.)

I do want to write some fandom stories for original characters. I also want to write more explicit fic without shaming myself out of it. What are the nastywords all the hip young adults are using nowadays? I don’t know and I get conflicting reports, but by god I will try to learn.

My best story of this year

Hardcase, which is admittedly a small drabble but I think.. it holds very well under Destiny 2, despite my frustration with how Cayde is portrayed in comparison to the Destiny 1. I’ve always had this specific opinion about Cayde and his mysterious (and not so mysterious) agendas. Dude definitely has a hero complex and this fic sorta toes into it. Plus, I like any Cayde angst related to Andal.

I feel like, out of all my fics this felt the most complete, and one that I was most satisfied with what I wanted to convey with a limited amount of words. I’m aware that I’m not… really made for longer stories, so I guess… I like to play to my strengths? And this was it.

My most popular story

According to AO3 hits and kudos, it was make you sway, another mcgenji fic that started with the same motivation as carry. I think.. it’s obvious… that I, uh, like writing a specific brand of Horny McCree, in that he’s not so much embarrassed by his attraction to Genji but just slightly exasperated by it (and his timing). And, haha, also Genji not being 100% on top of his libido is a nice change of pace too. I remember having fun with this!!

Story of mine most under-appreciated, in my opinion

feel something is one I’m super fond of. It’s very short, but I feel like it’s my best r76 fic in terms of the relationship I want to portray, especially post-Overwatch. I like the way I wrote it; in my opinion it was very to-the-point, and doesn’t have the happy ending they don’t quite deserve (yet) but in my mind it’s still a very positive fic without being too idealistic? Not that either way is bad, it was just something different for me, personally.

Most fun story to write

devil gave me a crooked start was a fic I pulled right outta my ass but wrote it all in one sitting after I came up with a couple of lines of dialogue; “So I’m stuck in the future,” “Would you like to know the future you?”, etc etc. It helped that Blizzard had just released McCree’s Blackwatch skin (WITH THE BLACK LEATHER CHAPS!!!!) and while I wasn’t comfortable about Blackwatch Genji having any sort of romantic relationship with Blackwatch McCree, I was sure as heck willing for Present-Day!Genji having some good nasty fun with a younger McCree.

Also I had a stupid amount of fun writing triple threat: genji/genji/genji, and I’m now just seeing a pattern that I enjoy writing characters being humorously turned on and having fun getting their rocks off, so there’s that. What a revelation.

Most Sexy Story

God im sorry but I wrote a mcgenji week drabble about blackwatch genji and mccree beating the shit out of each other and it’s the opposite of romantic and definitely not meant to BE romantic, but fighting can be sexy without being horny, right?? RIGHT???

Story with the single sexiest moment

to a point, to your knees.

It takes a huge effort for McCree to sit still after that, spine tingling and heat crawling over his body. The switchblade knife in Genji’s hand spins once in a little flourish, drawing McCree’s gaze to it.

His attention caught, Genji places the blade at his thumb and forefinger. He slides the knife between them once to no effect, then another time. McCree can hear the grating metal against each other and then the hiss of steam, knife edge still wet with spit from when McCree had held it on his tongue.

“Shall we see how sharp your mouth is now?” Genji asks, running the knife through his fingers once last time.

Genji sharpening McCree’s knife with his fingers and McCree getting hot (literally, metaphorically) and bothered by it is a personal achievement. For me or McCree, that’s up for debate.

Though I have to admit I’m absolutely still pissed about not titling the fic “cut to the feeling” instead because that’s a far better name for a knife kink fic an also my third favorite carly rae jepsen song.

Most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story

I don’t think anyone was surprised about even my most wildest fic. I think a friend of mine was initially disappointed that the knife kink fic was tagged for “mild blood” instead of straight up bloodplay. I’m sorry.

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters

I never quite like this question because I always have a good idea of how I want to portray a character in fic since most of my fics tend to lean on the introspective side of things. down and doubt is a very McCree-centered fic that deals with Gabriel, as well as Genji in relation to Gabriel. I wanted to show a lot of things about how McCree and Genji fight together, and what each of them thinks about the whole Gabriel Reyes = Reaper thing. I didn’t hit all the points, and I unfortunately had to scrub a scene off that I definitely want to rework in another fic, but I think I had the basics… present in the fic. I guess what did surprise me was touching on Soldier: 76, though the dynamics between him and McCree is another thing I want to write about for a later fic.

Hardest story to write

Intersect , mostly because the later half was such a visual story I had wanted to tell in a form that wasn’t all writing. I think It would have done better as a comic but what can u do? I still very much like the first half, which I had rattling in my head for the last year and a half, really.

I was aiming to write about McCree having hang-ups about Genji, and how he views himself—a washed out mercenary with no clear goals, in comparison to Genji, who’s off in a better headspace than him but still interested in McCree anyway. And it’s not so much a reunion fic I wanted to show but a story where it’s just ok to try and reacquaint yourselves with someone who might be a new person to you. I think. I very much did not want it to be a reunion fic.

Most disappointing

Intersect!!!!!!!! It was so jumpy!!!! I had a lot of expectations for it!!!! I wanted it to be so much!!!! In the end I just gave up trying to make the words all fit and banged out the rest of the story and let it go. I’m still upset it didn’t come out the way I wanted it but I think it was better to just post the damn thing rather than let it rot in my drive forever. I felt better for posting it but I don’t think I can reread it anytime soon.

Easiest story to write

I lot of fics that fall into this category were the drabbles like Wake Up Calls. I really like writing about mundane moments and little glimpses of a developing relationship, especially for mcgenji, because my headcanon of them consists of a bunch of little moments that somehow build up into a rolling romance that sneaks up on both of them. I think it’s why I have such a hard time writing one long cohesive fic about them. There just isn’t a Big Ah-Ha Moment for them to me? I guess? I guess. I’m rambling!!

Biggest surprise

That I continued the mcgenji motorcycle AU, honestly. I love it to pieces and it’s fun but god do I think it’s such a chore writing the build up leading to the parts I WANT to write in the first place!!!!!

Most unintentionally telling story

gift for gift started out as a very Gabriel Reyes-centric story but somehow I got passionate about Widowmaker and so it’s also very much about her as well and how she functions within her lack of autonomy. I wanted to explore Gabriel’s motivations/drive to push forward without mentioning just what, exactly, he was going for, which was surprisingly very easy.

Story I’d like to revise

Intersect, not so much revising it but revisiting some of the themes and concepts, especially about McCree. I’ve talked enough about this fic. Anyway.

Story I didn’t write but will at some point, I swear

Well. It’s more of a WIP at this stage but I want to write my epic 100k, 50 chaptered Guardian/Fallen romance fic for Destiny but we’ll see how that goes? Mostly I’m waiting on Bungie because I’m so dry on Bungie lore and I have no idea what the House of Dusk is up to and that’s kinda important to my story—which is, not really at all, but I would LIKE to make sure.

Anyway, that’s a wrap for my 2017 fics. Thanks for reading and all the encouragement! I hope to write more entertaining stories for 2018!! :’)

#thank you to everyone who supported me and encouraged me #and all the nice tags and comments too!!!#fic round up #fic 2017 #also this was an html nightmare pls pray for this awful post

20 notes · View notes

daveykonatta · 7 years

Text

SnB VS

Now that this anime came to conlusion i wanted to share my opinion since there are too many things that I do not want to save for myself. It had some good moments and certain characters and plots that i really enjoyed, BUT:

First of all: It amazes me that the director allowed all this mess to happen, especially because he is the same person that worked in Genesis. The scriptwriter on the other hand…. What was she thinking? If she didn't understand the previous season then why she was hired to do the job? Oh yeah, it’s supposed that she has experience with romantic plots and that's why they left her do everything with Char/Nina but that isn't even well done. I know there's people who liked and loved these new characters, but lest face it: their romance was rushed and looks more like a teenager crush than the supposed tragedy and ruin they want to sell us.

Yes, they invested in beautiful dance scenes and I can tell that the first dance in episode 6 is quite enjoyable (the animators and musicians did a really great job), but the writer trying to make us feel sorry for this “sad love history" is a huge mistake when we have the rest of characters in the background strugling with significantly more important issues (I speak of slavery, oppression, murder, deprivation of liberty and poverty).

I can't feel bad for Char losing his mother if in the present they hardly give us opportunities to empathize with him and his poker face. I think that if instead of using all that screentime to see him eating, being shaved or bored in his throne it could had been more significant to lear about his past; maybe flashbacks about his mother along with the time he passed looking at that tomb (the only thing we know about him). The part that may keep you interested about him (besides trying to “understand him” as the rest of characters during 24 episodes) is to learn about this big plan he has, BUT they used this to hook the audience and keep it as the “big revelation”.

Nina on the other hand has serious emotional issues and is so unaware of herself, she started as an interesting MC with many possibilities to develop (she is so fast and stronger than any, she can turn into a dragon! She is friendly, funny and lovable) but for some reason the scriptwriter being a woman decided that we don’t have enough female characters used as the romantic interest whose goal in life is decided by the path the male chooses.

Nina spent this whole season being there, more as a viewer of the story than the one who leads it (what’s the point of the MC if is not this?), and she struggled trying to understand Char instead of thinking by herself. She chooses to hide everything from her friends about her relationship with the king only to make this plot dramatic. But when Rita, Favaro, Jeanne and the rest of characters around her start to acknowledge what’s going on NOTHING happens! At least nothing dramatic; we only have Favaro giving her love advices, and he doesn’t care much about being imprisoned who knows how much time and for what thanks to the king, he limits himself to tell her the evident, but doesnt do anything to stop the king and in fact lets him alive because of the love Nina has for him. So, the advices he gives doesn’t consider what kind of person Char seems to be and are based on his vision of love towards Amira and what happened to them, which is stupid considering who they are and the differences between their stories.

The only moment Nina makes a choice happens after one of her friends (a child) dies, thanks to her love interest orders. But the consequences and guilt of this dead are only blamed on one person (who latter payed with his life). All this to makes us suddenly think that the king has nothing to do with It because that was an old order, so Nina can move forward and love him again. Yei!

I’m not saying that Nina wanting to be with the person she choose is bad or that she is too selfish; putting aside her flaws when love is on the table, she is a good friend (she put herself in danger for them several times) the problem here is that she put this man she barely knows over a pedestal and lost herself because of this: first she is empathic when Aza was in trouble and risked her secret to save him (even when she doesn’t consider him a friend), she seems mad at the king when hears him threatening to kill the demons if Azazel doesn’t return to fight, then she tells Char that she doesn’t like him and that he is a bad king (before knowing who he was), after this she suffers with Jeanne at the prison when she told her story.

But once she finds out he is the same person she liked then everything else doesn’t matter anymore, she stops thinking about what happened to her friends, she doesn’t care about goods being killed, or demons wounded and starving on the street. In fact, the scriptwriter had the guts to use those streets where the demons are living in poverty to create a romantic atmosphere between Char and Nina. So romantic and pure

Thanks to that romantic plot that wasted time, at the end we are left with several omissions and plot holes should I mention that all the plans of the perfect and lovable king were based on a source as reliable as Martinet?. And when the moment of revelation comes (although at this point we already knew) we realized that all was for nothing: Charioce passed all those years enslaving demons, killing goods and destroying their homes, using his own people to build a stolen weapon, and then bringing back Bahamut to the Capital to NOTHING. Nina went throw this journey of self-discovery No this no, Mugaro, Kaisar and Ale died along with several others, Rita went back where she started (puppet zombies, remember?) Jeanne lost her child after being banished from her home, Aza went through his painful usage ever for NOTHING.

Favaro said it in the final cut: Bahamut is still alive, and that was obvious: we are talking about an existence stronger than every demon or good portrayed till now; Satan and Zeus sacrificed themselves only to seal him for a couple of years. But thanks to power of teenage crush it only took Nina and Char 10 seconds this time! Amazing

NOTHING else than portraying Char as the big hero who had to suffer and pay a big cost in exchange of the lives of his people. The cost of his actions: he is blind now. Another plot hole since the Onyx soldier died in very graphic ways and the power to use the weapon seemed to require a significant amount of energy, but the Ikemen Char is almost intact (I bet Mugaro will gladly choose being blind than dead).

What was the conclusion for the rest of characters? Right, they didn’t had enough time so they tells us very quickly that Jeanne lives with the goods, and decided to left Char alive, Aza went somewhere, and decided to left Char alive, Lucifer and all the high ranked demons who? are nowhere to be seen, and they let Char alive, Gabriel and the rest of goods, nowhere to be seen, and they let Char alive.

But that’s good, because now the things are different, for example the slaves are now payed and decided to stay in Anatae (of course, Cocytus was destroyed). The arena is closed. I guess, because there was no time to clarify that. (The demons of the red district are payed now, too? Or they closed the place?) Who knows. People of Anatae is now able to worship their goods again? Doesn’t matter, any of this. Because the romance between Char and Nina was the principal problem to solve. But I forget, she is mute now. So, not only she chooses everything thinking first on Char, she also payed for him. Lovely

Conclusion: They had 24 episodes, the double of time than Genesis; that should have been enough to explain things but they managed to make a mess full of plot holes and the MCs stayed almost the same through the history, the problem that they presented to us in the first 8 chapters was put aside and magical solved with money at the end, and in top of that they killed characters whose porpoise was unclear. Mugaro my poor child. Talking about animation I think it was better than Genesis, and the music is great. But as a fan of the game and the previous season it left me really anoyed. The disappointment came since chapter 12.

#shingeki no bahamut #virgin soul #i will return to play shadowverse #if you enjoyed the show good for you #just my thoughts #everyone can speak their minds

51 notes · View notes

deepbluexsea · 4 years

Text

Secrets

Rating: PG-13 (language, adult discussion). Relationships: Jonathan/Gabriel, Gabriel/Jillynn (past). Recurring Characters: Johnny, Briel, Dr. Williams, Bella (mentioned). Warning/Notes: Marriage therapy. Mention of physical intimacy (non-descriptive). I wrote Gabriel’s parts; his writer is much better at portraying him than I am.

PRESENT(ISH)

On only the third time Johnny was on his way to meet the marriage therapist with his husband, he was running behind schedule. This behavior was something Briel had cited as an issue in their relationship on their intake paperwork: Johnny’s career sometimes had to come first (even if he didn’t want it to). He had tried to work on the things Briel considered a problem before they ever started therapy and despite this small slip up today, he still thought he was doing fairly well.

It was nine minutes past 12:00 PM. The sessions were only an hour during his lunch break once a month, but here he was… late.

“I’m so sorry,” Johnny said breathlessly as he slipped into the therapist’s cozy, ambient office. Briel was already in his place on the loveseat. Taking the spot next to his husband, he smoothed out his slacks and ran his hands through his hair to tame it from his mad dash here.

“We know it’s out of your control sometimes,” Dr. Williams nodded with a gentle smile. “Perhaps you might consider directing your apology to your husband instead of to me. Just to increase the discourse on these difficult issues.”

In the way they’d practiced during the very first session, Johnny turned toward Briel and took his hands, meeting his gaze. They were taught to explain themselves in full while also acknowledging the other’s emotions, all the while increasing the happy ‘bonding’ hormones by touching. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it on time. The judge ran over on his ruling. I tried to get here as fast as I could. I know it’s disappointing to you, and…” He glanced at Dr. Williams, trying to find the right words. “And… probably reminds you of how you felt when I worked so much in the past. I’m going to keep trying to do better.”

“Excellent, Jonathan,” the therapist validated. “Gabriel, how do you feel about responding in kind?”

Briel took a deep breath and seemed to think for a minute. His slight irritation seemed to wane. “It’s okay, Jay. I mean, I know it’s going to happen every now and then. It’s not what I’m worried about right now.”

The two of them slowly pulled apart. Johnny knew exactly what was going to come next. Currently, the fact that Johnny hadn’t filed their divorce papers and didn’t tell anyone was seemingly a bigger dilemma than any of the ones they’d divorced over in the first place. Even though it had been a topic of heavy discussion at each of their appointments so far, it was still nowhere near resolved.

“What’s bothering you most lately, Gabriel?” Dr. Williams asked politely.

They waited for him to gather his words, but Johnny couldn’t help himself after a few moments.

“Can I guess?” There were no objections. “It feels like he’s still very upset about the divorce papers. I told him I could file them any time, but he told me not to – which is really confusing to me. If he wants to start over from scratch, then I’m ready. If he wants to stay married, obviously, I’m ready. It’s like, we need to take a swing or get off the plate, you know? I don’t want to stay in limbo. We did that for a year after separating and it was tough.”

Before Briel could counter that, Dr. Williams tried to diffuse the tension. “Gabriel, I’m going to take a shot at what I’ve observed, but you tell me if this doesn’t sound right.” The other man nodded in agreement. “Jonathan, I don’t think that’s what Gabriel is saying. I think Gabriel has expressed his intent to be with you while also trying to communicate that lying about and concealing such a huge matter isn’t acceptable.”

Briel threw his hands in the air. “Yes! Thank you!”

“You don’t think I know that, though?” Johnny asked genuinely. He felt defensive, but he schooled his tone by keeping in mind what the doctor had said at their initial meeting: We’ve all agreed that your goal for attending therapy is to keep your marriage intact, so these conversations are to find solutions – not to blame or fight.

“I didn’t want to lie to you, Briel. I didn’t sit down one day and make the decision not to file the papers. I just couldn’t at first. Every time I tried, I felt so sick that it was hard to even go to work. It was like my chest was breaking in half all the time. And then I started drinking too much…”

Too much – an extent to which Briel probably didn’t realize.

“…it just wasn’t even on my radar by that point.” And fuck, why did Johnny feel like he was going to cry? “Then I was so busy putting my life back together that I forgot. But when I heard you were getting married, I remembered. I started the process again. And I never would have let it go on long enough to risk your marriage with Jill. I mean, I did push it off a couple of times after that but then I had a consultation about it. I got the document sealed and ready to be walked upstairs on a Friday evening, but the office was already closed so I had to wait until Monday. And that was the weekend you showed back up at home.”

It was quiet in the room for a long time after Johnny spilled his guts. All of the actions he’d detailed were so out of character for him that he didn’t expect Briel to fully believe him, but he had been through hell and back trying to get over this man. 2018-2019 Johnny wasn’t the same Johnny that he had been when they were still married.

“That’s it. That’s the whole truth,” he finally exhaled heavily, feeling like an increasingly unappealing human being because of how abysmal his conduct was during that time. Even though he was deeply afraid that Briel would be turned off by it, he knew that his husband deserved to know every last bit of it.

Dr. Williams let Johnny’s monologue sink in before she made her observations. “That was a brave confession, Jonathan. Thank you for sharing. While the two of you don’t seem to have any struggles with physical intimacy, keep in mind that the degree of emotional intimacy in a relationship is determined by the vulnerability you have with each other. This was a really great example. Gabriel, it’s my hope that this weekend you will take time to reflect on what your husband said today.”

Ten minutes later, the couple stood outside of the therapist’s building about to part ways: Johnny back to work and Briel back home to babysit Bella. They shared a quick kiss (as had become customary after these appointments), but afterward Johnny kept the other man close to him.

“I’m sorry, Briel. I didn’t think you’d ever know about this, so I didn’t think it would ever be able to hurt you. I hope you know I wouldn’t keep anything like that from you anymore.”

He kissed his husband again without hesitance before framing his face with his hands. “And now it’s no secret that I never stopped loving you.”

#my writing

0 notes

cumbergaga2014 · 7 years

Text

Season 8 Sam ramble

I’ve seen quite alot of posts in the past few days regarding Sam’s behaviour in Season 8, AKA his OOC for the entire season. I normally don’t write stuff because I am not good at it, but seeing these posts made me to post this, because Sam does not deserve the hate and misunderstanding that people have given him in this regard. This is me rambling about this so that I can get it out off my head, be warned this might go long.

In the beginning of the first episode of the season we see Dean coming out of purgatory with Benny and meeting Sam later, meanwhile we are shown Sam living together with Amelia in a “normal apple pie” life and as soon as he hears from Dean, he drops everything and goes back to Dean. He doesn’t even say anything to Amelia and he just bolts off thinking she’s asleep, because he knew he wouldn’t be back with her and he knew Dean needs him and likewise Sam needs his brother. Right from the moment Sam explains that he didn’t look for Dean after killing Dick Ronan, Dean starts accusing him for not looking for him. The reason for why Sam didn’t look for Dean was not explained till now except that he’s guilty and that is indeed very out of character for him, given that we have seen how he had behaved in the past when Dean was dead. In Season 3 “Mystery Spot” and Season 4 till “Lazarus Rising“and “I know what you did last summer”.

· Let me get into like detail, in Mystery Spot, we see Sam being distant after Dean was killed on a Wednesday in the parking lot and he see him crying while holding his body and there was no “groundhog day” scenario, the days kept rolling on for about six months without his brother.

· Focused on finding Trickster and killing him.

· Shut out Bobby, I don’t think he was talking to anyone.

· Had big killings alone.

· Booked double bed rooms in motels even though he needed only one.

· Ordered extra food for Dean, which was untouched.

· Sewing his gunshot wound by himself.

· He was dead inside. When he meets Trickster (Gabriel), he convinces him to bring back Dean, no matter how many times Gabriel told him this is how things will be after Dean’s deal is up. He does not express any reproach and simply begs Gabriel to bring him and he gets his brother back.

Dean does not know how Sam was for the past months, how hellish it had been for him. He held his brother’s body and grieved, he was almost out of his mind obsessed with revenge like when he was soulless, he had no regard for himself.

In season 4, the infamous stuff we got see about Sam were-

· He had an entire year to prepare himself for his brother’s death, he tried like anything to save Dean and he had to watch his brothers being ripped off by hellhounds and grieve for him when the hounds killed him.

· Shut down Bobby- AGAIN, Ruby was the only person he talked to, he was obsessed/focused with killing Lilith.

· He was out of his mind and certainly suicidal. Ruby made his comment during one of their conversations that she knew that Sam does not expect to survive when he confronts Lilith and that is what he wants.

· Demon blood addiction and going on a dark path.

· Manipulated by Ruby into releasing Lucifer, this was a huge mistake- He was desperate to fulfil his revenge for Dean’s death, he wanted them to pay for what they had done. Those days were hell for him even though he got Dean back he couldn’t make up his mind because Ruby was messing his mind and demon blood, the way the angels treated him didn’t help either . I don’t agree with his actions but I kind of understand his need for revenge or retribution in this situation and we should also remember how Dean was when he knew John sacrificed his life for him and he felt worthless for that because he thought he didn’t deserved to be saved and how was Sam supposed to feel when he knew Dean put up a deal and gets killed by hellhounds and feeling helpless and desperate to be worth of Dean’s life?

Not to go off the topic, Sam didn’t try to save Dean when he “died” and when to purgatory, this time he was confronted with these things-

· He lost his mind few episodes before and almost died in the mental hospital, even though Cas took away his pain I’m convinced he was still hurting and he was guilty that Cas he lost his mind because of him.

· He didn’t have any corpse to convince him of anything, I have seen people say he must know killing a leviathan will take us to purgatory- I don’t think he did this time. I still forget the look on his face when Crowley told him that he was truly alone his time. The utter confusion and loss was so evident.

· Bobby was dead and Castiel was nowhere to be found like Dean- He didn’t have anyone.

· Like usual he shut off people but this time he was really out of mind and clueless about anything and had nowhere to go.

Yes, this was out of character for Sam because he’s not even himself in this scenario, Sam character has changed from season 4 and he is broken beyond repair and yet he was standing. He did the only thing he knew when he realized there was literally no one for him – HE RAN. He just hid himself from the world, he couldn’t FOCUS and I think he must’ve been afraid of what he will become if he went further on trying to find Dean because he knew what he was capable of when Dean is not around and how he was when he was soulless. All I remember he was trying his car and hit a dog. We know Sam is a very empathetic person and this pushed guilt even further and that’s why he tried to take care of the dog, because the responsibility of the dog kind of saved him in a way

About Amelia, half the time I am convinced she isn’t even real if she was I think I kind of understand their relationship. Their relationship consists of two things- two broken people. While Sam was running away from everything I think he found a safety in her presence and felt wanted. He tried to make something of his life with her – he didn’t have happy go lucky life with her, he was in a sense recuperating from all that has happened in his life. I am convinced if Amelia’s hadn’t turned up or if Dean had not come back, I’m convinced he would’ve become like how he was in season 3 and 4 to an extent because that’s who he was and he always needs his brother. Amelia was just like a rebound/ or someone to fill in a void in his life.

Once he’s back with brother, obviously Dean expected to look for him and try to bring him back. When he found out that Sam didn’t try to get him back, he starts attacking Sam verbally and physically. It doesn’t help do when the person is already feeling guilty and you just keep adding even more fuel to the fire. There were many many times Dean made him feel bad and guilty for not looking for him, right after they hear Kevin’s voice messages and to top it off Dean got close with Benny – a vampire. This Sam was plain possessive and Dean made it clear that Sam had let him down again and again, and this should make anyone feel unwanted and worthless. Dean started being normal to Sam after the trails were started.

In this period, Sam took the trials because he wanted to prove that he will never put Dean down ever. Before the first trial we see Dean talking to Sam about how worthless he was and Sam was the one who he thought deserved to live. If you look closely in 8X14 “Trial and Error”, Dean tries to convince Sam that he was grunt and he’s going to die anytime soon, Sam drinks in every word he says and later uses them to convince Dean that he is worth to be saved and is brother deserves to live as well and tells the truth that Dean is the best hunter he ever knew. He knew his brother would take the trials as a suicide mission and he doesn’t give a damn about himself, he wanted to show Dean he can still protect him and be there for him and he wanted prove his brother that he won’t let his brother down again – ever.

As the trial progresses, at first Dean was still reluctant for letting Sam do the trials, he keeps trying to talk him out of it and Sam adamant as ever to finish the trials. We see Sam’s health deteriorating and to point that even Cas claims he wouldn’t be able to cure him. One thing was clear from the start of the Trial to Sam and as well to us viewers that Sam will not be surviving when the trial gets over. Look at him, he has reduced alot of weight, brain cooking fevers and nose bleeds etc. Dean was very aware of this conditions right from the start and he was there was his brother as always. If these were the physical ailments that the trials caused to him, we don’t know what was going on in Sam’s mind – he was warned before the beginning of the trials the person will need to sacrifice himself (They shouldn’t be afraid of their spine ripped off), he remembered stuffs from his childhood about how unclean he felt , then demon blood and he saw Benny in purgatory which meant Dean had sacrificed his friend to save him and obviously hit must have crossed his mind that he was burden to his brother, his abandonment when Dean went to purgatory, downgrading his self worth even more and to be honest this ought to put alot of pressure on him to finish the trials.

The heart wrenching season finale is one of my favourites and I absolutely loved how Jared and Jensen portrayed the church scene. I find it hard to believe that Dean didn’t know that Sam wouldn’t survive the trials until Naomi told him, it was obvious. Up to this point I think Dean was in denial that Sam will not live after the trials and Naomi just hammered the truth for him and once he realized he rushed to save his brother. Even now when Dean asked for Sam to stop the trials, he wouldn’t because he didn’t want to let his brother down AGAIN, he didn’t want be a burden – as someone who needed a chaperone, he couldn’t focus, he knew he was dying anyway and he was downright suicidal. it’s so sad that someone who wanted to survive the trials in the beginning to accepting their death at the end. I am not saying it was all on Dean – NO, this just shows how damaged he was because he thought he lost Dean, his brother no longer needed him and doesn't trust him anymore; even though his brother was with him again; he gave up trials for his brother, even though it almost killed him and it took him months to recover.

I think I kinda understand how a person feels if they feel they are not needed anymore and not trusted. It's no wonder considering their codependency throughout the seasons. Sam does not deserve all the hate and misconception for this season he was just a guy trying to fix things and be useful and prove he's trustworthy, that he was willing to give up his life so that his brother will be safe after the hell's gates are closed and seek forgiveness for not looking out for his brother in the beginning of the season.

#sam winchester #season 8 #trails!sam #sam and loss #sam and guilt #sam meta #supernatural meta

7 notes · View notes