#she lost her ability to trust people and was so angry and distant

[seldaryne]

10, 11, 12, 15, 16, 17 for durge~

10. What motivates your Dark Urge to either embrace or resist the tadpole?

Pragmatic though Velrith may be, consuming more tadpoles & utilizing their abilities seems to be a more favourable route. In her mind, there's obviously some sort of reason that she hasn't undergone the transformation yet--some sort of protection that's keeping the effects at bay. The tadpole itself is a parasite, and it does need her at least semi-alive as its host. There's also an element of wanting to know more about her current situation, and part of that desire means that someone has to be a guinea pig. Particularly in Act 1, her feelings about herself are pretty nebulous. She's not overly concerned for her personal safety, and actually finds it reassuring that she's surrounded by people both willing & capable of putting her down if she starts to turn into a mindflayer, so she thinks of it as a calculated risk. Also, interactions with the Cult of the Absolute go considerably smoother when she's not operating from a place of total darkness.

Basically, once she weighed the options, there were more benefits to be found from tapping into the tadpole over ignoring it entirely. The Astral Tadpole is a different story. At that point, she's started to lose trust in the Emperor (though she's still fine with working towards his goals, at least until she feels like she has a better grasp of the entire situation. Like the tadpole, he clearly needs her alive for something. It's a truce, for now), and she's more interested in keeping ownership over herself. The Astral Tadpole seems a step too far away from that desire, and she refuses to budge on that.

11. What motivates your Dark Urge to either embrace or resist the Urge?

Answered here.

12. How does your Dark Urge feel about being a bhaalspawn?

In a word?

Despair.

It's a very unique feeling of helplessness, of knowing that she was always more or less doomed to fail. Her own desires didn't matter. She was never expected to develop her own path. She's not even sure what the point of allowing her developmental years to be comparatively 'normal,' unless it was to perhaps cultivate resentment & make her eventual indoctrination more spiteful. She doesn't remember feeling any of that, though; just emptiness. A void where her core should have been, distant from the very idea of what it meant to be truly alive.

Now, since she was a child, she'd always been interested in finding out the way things worked. What makes the clock tick? How do the wheels of a carriage know how to turn? Even if she's not as obvious about it later on, she still retains the curiosity. As Bhaal's chosen, it manifests in a less-than-acceptable fashion. More detached than she'd ever been, she started cutting into bodies to see if they had something tangible that she didn't. Externally, they were the same. Bhaal hadn't made something physically deviant, at least. So maybe there was something inside, tucked away behind the ribs and lungs, threaded in amongst the viscera & woven around the nerves.

Her abhorrent butler was delighted, naturally, and assumed the dissection-turned-vivisection was motivated by torturous desires. She never bothered to mention how part of her longed to crawl inside the open chest cavities, wrapping herself up in the wet warmth, hoping she could somehow absorb a patchwork version of her ideal self in that way.

She understands, in retrospect, why she was doing this. But she doesn't know whether to be more angry at herself for seeing the habit as something both justified and necessary, or being put in a position where she ever had the opportunity to discover it in the first place.

15. What is your Dark Urge’s greatest fear?

To slip again, to lose herself to the Urge, to die as an animal lost to its instincts rather than herself.

She knows she's technically rejected it, but the fear lingers. She can't rest until she makes those in close proximity to her swear that they're willing to prevent her from hurting anyone, and it's one of the few topics you can see cracks of real, honest anxiety in her face & hear it in her voice. It's not so much the fear of hurting the people she's come to care about (that's definitely a portion of it, though), it's losing everything she's worked so hard for in the process.

When she finished Orin off and was subsequently punished for rejecting Bhaal (her father--creator, really) she knew she was dying. She didn't want to die, and resisted as much as she was physically capable of doing, but she knew it was happening anyway. Her vision flickered, fading in time with the numbness spreading from her chest. Someone may have been yelling in the distance, muffled and far, far away. Or maybe that was the sound of her own screaming. It was hard to tell.

Yet, she was somehow happy to do it.

She was dying, but she was aware of it, and it was her, not some abomination of Bhaal. Those last moments of fleeting consciousness belonged wholly and entirely to her, to Velrith, and all of the decisions she made that led to that point. And Bhaal could take her life, but he couldn't take away that fierce shock of pride at it being hers.

Should she fall, it has to be on her own terms. She's not eager to embrace death, but she has that requirement of it when it comes.

16. What is your Dark Urge’s greatest desire?

It's selfish, and she's not convinced she deserves it. But she wants to live.

She's been given a second chance when she knows she likely deserves no less than execution for her past actions. She's found a small group of people who care for her despite all evidence prior dictating she should be shunned at the absolute minimum. From that, she's even found what she recognizes to be happiness in a romantic partnership (she still finds confusing fascination in how quickly Astarion was able to accept her, and doesn't know if she'll ever understand--but she's endlessly grateful). There are strangers whose faces she doesn't recognize who see her as a hero, as someone they can trust to help with their problems.

She is happy. More dangerously, she is content. And it feels so unfair, somehow, that she can sit there, basking in all this warmth when her body has been the instrument of so much destruction. Why should her hands be held gently, when they were made & used for tearing apart soft flesh & crushing bones? She should be, at the very least, generally hated & scorned if she's allowed to walk free after that.

But she isn't. It doesn't seem to happen (at least, not in anyone she's encountered yet).

She wants to keep living like this. She won't let herself put down the burden of her past. It seems an added cruelty that she can't make herself participate in. But even carrying that, it doesn't change the fact that's she wants to live.

17. What is your Dark Urge’s greatest regret?

Is it perhaps too dramatic to say it might just be her entire creation?

Velrith has never really been able to properly make peace with her past. It's not something you can ask either, since there's no way anyone would have a proper frame of reference. Well, you weren't as bad as Orin. You weren't as bad as Gortash. Do those statements even carry meaning? What good is being the lesser of two evils when the scale is that vast to begin with? (Besides, she can't even say with any degree of certainty that she wasn't worse. Evidence seems to point in the other direction.)

She's done good things. She's helped people. She knows this; she's even seen some of it firsthand.

And yet, the couple who selflessly took her in would still be alive.

And yet, the blood of so many innocents who just happened to get caught in the wrong place at the wrong time wouldn't have been spilled.

And yet, the city of Baldur's Gate likely wouldn't have been under this current threat if not for her past actions.

And yet, and yet, and yet.

So perhaps, on the whole, everyone would have been better off had she never been here in the first place.

durge asks.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #durge #bg3 durge #oc tag #velrith #ever been so depressed you just start gutting people? #its okay girl we've all been there jhgsfd #anyway ik the durge cannibalism is a Thing but like. i don't think she would have eaten them lmao but she definitely wanted to Study them #compare notes as you do etc

[pesterloglog]

Jade Harley, Rose Lalonde, Doc Scratch

Act 5, page 3638

GG: rose please say something

GG: you are making me nervous...

TT: I should have gone looking for her.

TT: Why didn't I?

GG: umm

GG: because you were busy trying to make the best of this situation?

TT: John was too. But he went to look for his father.

TT: It would have been normal of me. I can't remember what I was trying to prove anymore.

GG: i dont think you should be so hard on yourself about it

GG: john was being john, and you were being you, which i guess meant taking our problems very seriously and putting all your attention on solving them!

GG: and anyway, you and your mom had a much trickier relationship than john and his dad didnt you?

GG: i mean, not that i am saying that means you were any less attached to her than him...

GG: argh, i dont know if im very good at consoling people. sorry rose i dont want to make you feel worse :(

TT: You're doing fine.

TT: For someone raised by a dog.

TT: Or really,

TT: Anyone.

TT: Thanks.

GG: whew, ok

GG: you know...

GG: now we have all lost guardians

GG: dave lost his, and i lost mine in a weird way... uuum even though that was pretty much definitely my fault :\

GG: and even the trolls all lost their monster guardians

GG: i think that maybe it is an inevitable part of a game that can be cruel sometimes

TT: For some reason, despite all the danger, I never thought she was in any trouble.

TT: I never believed she would actually die.

TT: I grew up with the feeling that something more significant had always been meant for her.

TT: That she was a heroine displaced in some way, resigned to the inglorious duty of raising me, and preparing me in her way.

TT: I didn't actually need the ectobiological verification that she was like a mother and a sister at the same time. I always understood that somehow.

TT: And I felt she had knowledge and ability beyond what she let on. It was always intimidating, but nonetheless a source of respect which was childishly begrudging on my part.

TT: I think she was just waiting for me to catch up with her.

TT: But now I can't.

GG: ......

GG: i am so sad

GG: rose i think you are being stronger about it than i am

TT: Probably because my emotions have now ceded to anger.

TT: This shouldn't have happened.

GG: oh

GG: well

GG: i just hope you arent thinking of doing something rash

TT: I already was.

TT: I was going to go to sleep, fly to a sun bigger than our universe, drop a bomb in it, and kill myself.

GG: yeaaah...

TT: So if my course of action is to change on account of my mood, it can only become less impetuous, don't you think?

GG: errrr, i dont know?

TT: You never liked my plan very much anyway.

GG: wellllll

GG: no!

GG: but i was trusting that you had thought it through and it was our best hope

TT: I'm not sure if I did.

TT: Maybe it was a terrible plan.

TT: I made it without a full understanding of the nature of the Scratch.

GG: hm

GG: then what will you do?

TT: I could stop being so cowardly, for once.

TT: I could short circuit this endlessly expanding game of chess we're playing, just like Jack decided to do.

GG: what does that mean!

TT: Maybe I will go kill Jack myself.

TT: Right now.

GG: oh no no no no no!

GG: rose that is a much much worse plan!!!!!

GG: he would probably kill you!

TT: Probably.

TT: But the Scratch will wipe us out anyway, and reboot the conditions of our session.

TT: I suddenly don't feel much like sneaking through the back door of the Furthest Ring for retribution by distant super nova.

GG: i know what you mean, i was angry at jack and wanted to stop him too, but we have to think of a more sensible way to do it

TT: Whether my existing plan was sensible or not,

TT: I may have been allowing myself to be manipulated by an omniscient being regardless.

GG: what? who?

Hello ladies.

GG: aaaaaaa whaaaaat?????

TT: This is a private conversation.

TT: Private even to those who know it word for word already.

Proceed.

I will be here.

Watching.

GG: rose who is this!

TT: Ignore him.

GG: i dont even know whats going on anymore

You were discussing Ms. Lalonde's intrepid new variation on suicide.

As one with a passion for the subject, I'm intrigued.

TT: Shh.

TT: Anyway, if it's true the gods have "selected" me for service, maybe the power they've given me will be sufficient.

TT: Maybe they wanted me to kill him all along.

Hee hee.

GG: SHHHHHHHHHH!

GG: please dont rose, i know you are angry but you arent thinking straight

TT: But I am.

TT: I'm fully aware I'll probably die and fail. Scratch happens, we start fresh. No recollection, no problem.

GG: nooo :(

Jade, as an ambassador of Skaia, maybe you'd be willing to talk some sense into your friend?

You should understand she's been corrupted by various entities with some rather questionable motives.

GG: rose, maybe white text guy is right?

GG: the dark gods gave you all these powers, and seem to be helping us with dream bubbles and stuff...

GG: but what if they are not actually good?

TT: They are enormous, ugly, and live in darkness.

TT: That doesn't necessarily make them bad.

GG: no...

GG: but i still dont trust them!

If only there were a way to make this determination with certainty.

Through a reliable source within reach, for instance, at this exact moment. Perhaps one that is spherical, and devastatingly handsome.

GG: whats this weirdo talking about!

TT: The cue ball.

GG: oh yeah

GG: i noticed you found it!

GG: i was worried it had been destroyed when my room blew up

GG: is he saying you can use it?

TT: Yes. And he is right.

GG: omg

GG: does it work???

TT: It advised me to talk to you just now.

TT: So I guess so.

GG: then maybe you should try it!

Yes, Rose. Listen to Jade.

She is far less manipulative than I.

TT: What are you suggesting I ask it?

GG: well

GG: since we dont know much about the gods...

GG: why dont you ask it about them?

TT: So, you're saying I should ask it if the gods are evil?

GG: i guess that is a way to put it

Even though at this point neither of you is highlighting my text to read it, this idea gets my vote.

Go ahead.

Ask, Seer.

#homestuck #jade harley #rose lalonde #doc scratch #homestuck act 5 #page 3638

[spacedlexi]

violet is the biggest softie and I love her so much

and don't get me wrong I love love love Louis too with all my heart but,,,,,, violet's just so alone in the beginning of the game and I literally cannot stomach romancing him bc it means she stays alone!!! :(

i knooooowww 😭😭 i agree with you 10000% anon 🥺

like....shes so alone and sad and hurting and as clem you can change all of that and help her open up and trust and openly care for people again 🥺💕 help her have real confidence again. she may be confident in her skills but not her relationships

i love her arc seeing her begrudgingly take on the role of leader (her "since no one else stepped the fuck up" line annihilates me every time UGH) and trying so so hard to not care so she wont get hurt again if she loses anyone 🥺🥺 but she cares so much underneath it all 😭 and is trying to keep these kids safe even tho shes just as afraid and lost 😭😭 tenn said clem made them all feel safe and that includes vi 🥺😭

clem being the only one who "came back" to her 🥺😭 shes desperately looking for someone to care for her the way she cares for others and has been burned so many times that she just hides herself from everyone

so i cant NOT romance her and i can also never never ever let her get taken VIOLEEEEETTT I LOVE YOU 😭😭💕💕💕 (sorry im SORRY LOUIS but i cant 😭😭😭) shes incredible

#cryyyyiiinnggg i love her 😭😭😭 #i also cant romance louis bc of the aj stuff #like clem would Die for aj and louis puts them both at risk by kicking them out #so that was the nail in the coffin for him romantically for my clem #BUT I DO LOVE HIM OK I LOVE LOUIS the 3 of them make a GREAT group #but yeah i still dont even have the louis route trophies bc i HAVE to romance vi #again clem understands all of what vi is going thru shes lost and been abandoned by so many people #but shes still in a position where shes not just looking out for herself #she lost her ability to trust people and was so angry and distant #so now that shes come out the other side of that she knows how violet is feeling #and is in the position to help her #and they both can rely on each other 😭😭 ride or die #IM SORRY NOT SORRY but clem and vi are in so much love #violentine is so fucking good 😭😭💕!!!!! #literally the best theyre so so good together #replies with lexi #incognito #twdg #ok vi rant over FOR NOW i love her so fucking much 😭😭 #me season3: theyll Never write a good love interest for clem 😡 #me s4: *sees violet* my god they actually did it

[allisoooon]

Allison, Claire, and Attachment

I’ve generally put Allison barely mentioning Claire in s2 down to Law of Conservation of Detail—we know she loves her daughter and it doesn’t need to be peppered in so we don’t forget that.  However, it is almost midnight and weird ideas come to you sometimes when it’s late, so here goes.

Allison apparently left the Academy and pretended she had completely moved on and become a successful, functioning adult.  Luther felt abandoned by her (and everyone else), but she doesn’t deny that she pretended none of her family existed when she went about creating her new family.  She shut off those connections and didn’t look back until it came time for the funeral.

Fast forward to s2, and she is, once again, completely alone and stranded.  Lost in time. So she does it again.  She refuses to look backward at the people in her past and moves forward with making new bonds.

There’s a theory in developmental psychology about attachment.  In the first few years of your life, you learn how relationships work, with your caregiver as the model.  This part of your development dictates how you form attachments later in life as well, which is a factor in your ability to develop healthy relationships.  If your caregiver was attentive to your emotional needs, the impression you have of interpersonal relationships is that they are meant to be steady and satisfying, a known person’s responses can be predicted, and someone you are close with can be trusted not to hurt you. This is called a “secure” attachment style.  If your caregiver was inconsistent or distant, you probably reacted one of two ways: either you learned you couldn’t rely on someone to leave you if you didn’t cling to them (anxious), or you learned there was no point in pursuing attachment or expressing your emotions because it wouldn’t be rewarded or couldn’t be relied upon (avoidant). If your relationship with your primary caregiver was straight-up frightening, or if they were frightened of you, you very likely learned that there was no way to predict what effect your behavior would have at all.  The same behavior got completely different reactions from your caregiver at different times and there was no way to know which reaction you would get.  Ultimately, it gave you a “disorganized” attachment style.

The way this gets observed in infants is by placing them in an unfamiliar situation: in a playroom with both their caregiver and a stranger.  The caregiver then leaves the room and the infant’s response is noted before the stranger attempts to comfort the infant.  The caregiver returns and the infant’s response is noted.  This happens two or three times.  Securely attached infants are able to let their caregiver leave and can be comforted by the stranger, but prefer their caregiver and are happy when they come back.  Later in life, they are able to have self-confidence and strong relationships. Insecure-avoidant infants ignore the stranger and don’t express happiness or relief at the caregiver’s return. Later in life, they tend to be aloof and yet lonely.  Insecure-anxious infants have strong reactions to the departure of their caregiver, like hitting or crying, and are unable to be consoled by the stranger.  They tend to have tempestuous, unreliable relationships and be clingy later in life.  Fearful-avoidant (disorganized attachment) infants show great uncertainty when the caregiver leaves, and may be confused, erratic, angry, or afraid. As adults, they tend to be emotionally dysregulated and prone to severe mental illness.  They can demonstrate a worrisome push-pull in their relationships, drawing people close before pushing them away again—an attachment style famously common in Borderline Personality Disorder, but not exclusive to that diagnosis.

We see a lot of evidence of a disorganized attachment style in all of the Hargreeves siblings.  They don’t seem to form new attachments easily, but when they do, they form fast.  Vanya says she loves Leonard within a few days of meeting him, but goes from loving to murderous within a matter of minutes.  This illustrates that even though she formed this bond quickly, she is practiced at letting bonds go just as quickly as they form.  Diego falling for Lila so soon and so quickly after Patch’s death can be seen as evidence of this as well.  Klaus’ story of how his longest relationship lasted three weeks happens just a few days before he meets the love of his life.  Luther hasn’t made a friend in his entire life who wasn’t a family member at the start of the series.  Five is practically a macro version of the push-pull dynamic of disorganized attachment.  He’ll do anything to get back to his family when they’re separated, but when they’re together, he holds them at arm’s length.

I don’t want this to sound like there is no pain when letting these attachments go.  There absolutely is pain, especially if those attachments were close.  Nevertheless, the pattern of behavior is that the person is ready to treat anyone as an abuser.  That was how they survived.  Anyone you are friendly with is someone with whom the other shoe could drop at any moment. So it’s not that Allison stopped caring about the people she let go, it’s that letting go of people, for her, doesn’t mean the same thing as it does to someone with a secure attachment style. When she and Ray fight, she is already talking like the marriage is on its last legs.  Someone who grew up differently might think it obvious that the solution to her problem is clear—that she should tell Ray the truth and trust that he will be reasonable.  Allison, however, has seldom had a relationship of any sort that did not end in estrangement, whether that was because they genuinely sucked or because she pushed them away.  She is already thinking, “I know how this goes.”

Allison is not reacting consistently to Claire’s absence because her reactions to attachments are not consistent to begin with.  That’s the hallmark of disorganized attachment—unpredictability.  In the first season, she wouldn’t stop talking about Claire.  In s2, with Claire no longer even in existence except in her memory, she may just find her too painful to talk about.  She still has this internal model of relationships as things that switch on and off almost at random, waiting for the other shoe to drop with each person she is close to.  Parent-child relationships are not immune to this, not even from the parent’s perspective, and she was already talking as if it was hopeless for her to fix things with her daughter, as if Patrick would never allow her to see her again.  As if she was too broken herself to ever be a reliable parent.

We also just don’t know what she says offscreen.  Let’s be real: if she’d kept talking about Claire in s2 as much as she did in s1, no matter how understandable or realistic, there would have been people whining about how she won’t shut up about her daughter. There also just needed to be an arc she could have that wasn’t about her as a mother, which she got to have.  We saw her become a leader.  We saw her fix a relationship instead of accepting it was inevitably going to fall apart.  We saw her address how her first instinct is to lie and not trust even the people closest to her.

Even people who don’t dislike Allison often call her boring. She’s not boring.  She’s just as textured and complex as the others—she’s just not as loud as Klaus, Diego, or Five, not as mousy as Vanya, makes (marginally) smaller mistakes than Luther, and Ben…people usually have the same criticism for Ben.  Which, once again, I disagree.  Just because a character isn’t larger than life doesn’t mean they’re smaller than life. Just because they’re not explosive doesn’t mean they’re boring.

#tua #the umbrella academy #allison hargreeves #luther hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #diego hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #five hargreeves #tua meta #viktor hargreeves

[sepublic]

The Golden Guard: Eda’s Dark Parallel?

           Does anyone else think that the Golden Guard actually reminds Lilith a LOT of Eda, specifically Eda as a kid, during the good old days before she got cursed?

           Think about it… They’re both sassy, hot-headed teen prodigies with an owl motif and yellow attire. And the way Lilith angrily talks about the Golden Guard, it seems her feelings of resentment mirror how she felt towards Eda back when they were kids? Lilith, who was by-the-book and traditional, worked so hard… And then there’s this younger person with an Owl motif who just swoops in out of nowhere and through talent, completely outclasses her!

           If you go with the idea that Lilith wanted Gwendolyn’s approval and had to compete with Eda over that… Then for all we know, maybe Lilith lowkey wanted Belos’ approval as well, but felt like she was being cheated out of that with the Golden Guard, who kept stealing the spotlight from her! 

          Like she was afraid he’d take her spot as head of the Emperor’s Coven, the way Lilith feared that Eda would win the initiation duel back when they were kids… And lo and behold, the Golden Guard DID take that! Granted Lilith left an obvious vacancy from her own betrayal of Belos so of course he took that spot, but still; It’s quite a sore spot.

           In some ways, perhaps Lilith is aware of this, deep-down or not; She might see the Golden Guard as just Young Eda, but without any of the emotional connection, nor any redeeming qualities; If he does have them, again, it’s not like Lilith knows the Golden Guard well enough to know these traits, much less take them into account.

           LOTS of text and speculation and analyses below!!!

           The Golden Guard is even sixteen years old… Which, is very likely EDA’s age, back when her and Lilith competed for the Emperor’s Coven! That can take on a whole new, dark meaning for her… 

          Perhaps Lilith is low-key disturbed by the Golden Guard’s existence, because he reminds her too much of Young Eda? Eda, before she was cursed- So it’s like the memory of her is coming back to haunt Lilith, in the form of someone who has no concern for Lilith whatsoever to hold him back, unlike the actual Eda.

           And in a way, it’s a horrible reminder that some things never change, that some things stay the same and Lilith can’t get past them, she can’t outgrow it like she thought she did; Because even now, even as head of the Emperor’s Coven, there’s still a 16-year-old prodigy with an owl motif and yellow attire, who is sassy and playful and mischievous, who threatens to upstage Lilith’s self-esteem and sense of power. Somebody Lilith is afraid of; Thirty years later, and she STILL has to deal with this kind of person in her life, but it’s worse because she’s actually older and should be better, yet somehow isn’t…

           Who knows? Maybe Lilith even recognized the similarities to Eda, enough to actually be sympathetic to the Golden Guard at first? Perhaps she, on some level, saw the Golden Guard as a way to vicariously redo her past with Eda, but without the mistakes… Maybe she tried to be nice to the Golden Guard, but then he quickly turned out to be a snob, he’s not REALLY Eda; So Lilith settled on never cursing him like she did Eda, but then otherwise decided that she didn’t owe him any love and could just quietly loathe his guts.

          Lilith failed Eda in part because she was an older sister who abandoned her in a time of need, but there’s not really that expectation with the Golden Guard, so why bother? She’s got enough on her plate as is, and an ACTUAL Eda to worry about, to look after, to be concerned for and patch things up with.

           I’ve even seen people make the very good point that in a lot of ways… The Golden Guard is like a Dark Eda? In the sense that, he’s Eda, had she joined the Emperor’s Coven as a kid. He’s a look at Young Eda, if she didn’t reject the Coven System, and joined Belos- Reveling in her own talent and power as granting her ‘special treatment’ over the rest, so any downsides to the coven system weren’t HER problem anyway!

           Again, this adds another layer to the Golden Guard being very reminiscent of Young Eda, and even current Eda as well… Except, he never lost his magic and was never cursed. Maybe that’s another thing he unknowingly haunts Lilith over; He’s lowkey a reminder of what Eda could’ve been, had Lilith not been selfish and a coward, or had she communicated better. Yet at the same time, he’s frustrating- Because the Golden Guard is like the worst parts of Eda, the parts that Lilith hated and made her resentful…

           And this constant reminder of the past, of her own issues with Eda back then that culminated in the curse- It could’ve made it a LOT harder for Lilith to really resolve things with Eda, because this kid keeps reminding her why she was so angry, and it’s impossible for her to move on because the Golden Guard isn’t some distant memory, but an actual person who continues to threaten her, the way Eda had…

          And of course, the Golden Guard reminds Lilith of the Eda she lost; The happy, carefree Eda who wasn’t cursed, the Eda she could’ve had in a sense. The Eda that Lilith in some ways wanted, yet is forced to confront and acknowledge is a very obnoxious and terrible person that makes her unhappy…

          And this kind of rude reminder that the Eda that Lilith wanted would’ve continued to make her miserable, if not moreso, is not something she appreciates shattering her dreams and low-key denial, of a world where things had just been a little different.

          The person you’re trying to get, maybe get BACK, wasn’t so great after all- So you just have to move on, and be glad for the Eda who IS happier with her life and more mature, despite being older and more cursed. You gotta move past your guilt Lilith, and realize that Eda is in a better place- Not that she ever needed the curse, but she doesn’t quite need saving from the parts of her life she actually chose for herself, in part to be kind to Lilith no less! Because I bet Lilith believes that deep down, she didn’t deserve Eda’s kindness, so she wishes to reverse that compassionate decision of Eda’s that only resulted in Eda suffering because of how terrible Lily secretly is.

           But, back to the subject; There’s more similarities to Eda and the Golden Guard, especially at the end of Separate Tides; How he makes an ominous warning before casually, happily yelling “BYYEEEE!!!”, just like Eda when she warns Luz about trying to have a Moonlight Conjuring in Hooty’s Moving Hassle, before heading off to the Night Market. His widow’s peak even bears a decent resemblance to Eda’s, doesn’t it? Which…

           Combined with all of the talk about bird motifs being a Clawthorne thing, it DOES raise many questions about the Golden Guard’s potential connection to Eda. Is he some long-lost son? A third child that Gwendolyn had later in life, because witch biology might allow them to do that? Some homunculus, crafted from bits of DNA from Eda, and maybe even Belos? Belos does seem weirdly fond and trusting of him, the two are placed together in the Season 2 outro when nobody else, not even Kikimora, is there; And of course, the Golden Guard wields a staff, red magic, and fleshy creations, VERY similar to Belos…

           I can’t say for sure- But the idea of the Golden Guard as an alternate Eda is fascinating. An Eda who became completely arrogant, and didn’t stop to care about others; Her cockiness and mischief becoming cruel and obnoxious, essentially the worst parts of Eda, down the path she’d always dreaded. A look into another life, a different choice in such a pivotal part of her past… Personally, I LOVE this kind of dark parallel of a character, so I’m hoping these similarities are commented upon in-universe, assuming they’re not outright literal!

           In a way, the Golden Guard could haunt Eda, because he reminds her of herself… Of her carefree youth, but what she could’ve had… But also, the terrible things she’d done. And obviously Eda despises the coven system too much to really change her mind, and it’s safe to say that the Golden Guard is not at all what she wanted to ever become… But still, it’s a neat bit of character writing and parallelism. If Belos is like a Dark Luz, what Luz could’ve been had she not grown… And the same could apply between King and Kikimora;

           Then who knows? The Golden Guard could be a Dark Eda, who got by talent and continued to take things for granted. An Eda who swore loyalty to Belos and was embraced by the emperor for her skill and ability. Jovial and cheery, but without any of the actual compassion that makes this genuine with Eda. An immature brat who never grew up (granted he’s only sixteen and hasn’t gotten the chance), unlike Eda. And if the Golden Guard is an alternate Eda;

           It’s fascinating how his roles are reversed with his alternate Luz… The Eda parallel is younger than the Luz parallel, learning from them, and taking after their motifs as well! But I guess it’s not all too surprising, with how Eda and Luz both learn from one another, though I suspect Belos and the Golden Guard aren’t as mutual, but who knows? 

          It does make you wonder about Kikimora and King as potential mediators between these duos, whose placement remains consistent… How does Kikimora, the King parallel, interact with her Luz and Eda? Did she become close friends with HER Luz, while, as Dana’s art suggests, she seems somewhat irritated by and resentful of her own Eda? So it’s like Eda and King never grew to be friends and conquer differences… As well as if King never grew to respect Luz and saw her as just a “f*cking nerd”?

           With how Luz is taking after Eda, and possibly getting a Cardinal palisman to complete the Clawthorne motif as a new member of the family… Who knows? The Golden Guard could be an intriguing character for her to bounce off of narratively, maybe as someone Luz might have, in another universe, learned to look up to and admire? How well Luz’s relationship be with the Golden Guard, if they are a Dark Eda? And how can this indirectly show us about how Luz and Young Eda would’ve interacted, what Young Eda was like, what Lilith went through as a kid…

           And, for all we know- The Golden Guard’s owl motif doesn’t hint at a pre-existing connection to the Clawthornes, but rather a future one… Maybe he’ll end up being adopted by Eda, the way Luz was? I’d love to see the Golden Guard become an evil older sibling who’s protective of Luz… 

          I ADORE that trope to death; Evil older brother with bright, younger sister, whom he cares about, and the sister cares for him too, even if it’s complicated because the sister believes in the brother to be better, while the brother doesn’t want to be better, or is at least reluctant about having to change…

           I’d love to see another Hugo and Kipo dynamic, and actually… If the Golden Guard parallels Eda, then who’s his Lilith? Could it be Luz herself? I’ve talked before the similarities between Luz and Lilith, as kids who were bullied and struggled with a lack of talent, but made up for it with hard work and ingenuity; They’ll give you a lot of trouble for doing the right thing, but then happily leap at the opportunity if they think someone is improving.

           And, as Separate Tides has also shown us; They both grapple with guilt over making Eda suffer, unintentionally to varying degrees. Luz and Lilith both learn that they’re not a burden and that it’s okay to ask for help, and come to terms with their guilt with Eda… If Belos and the Golden Guard are Luz and Eda reversed, then could Luz and the Golden Guard also be Lilith and Luz, reversed?

          With the Eda parallel being the older sibling in this scenario… An alternate timeline where Eda and Lilith were the same people, but switched places in birth, and it was EDA who ended up being the cruel and toxic sibling who left the younger feeling demeaned and worthless. I imagine if that were the case, the Golden Guard’s toxicity would occur largely in the beginning, as he acts adversarial to Luz and mocks her, taunts her over Eda’s loss of magic, and her own glyphs no doubt; The Golden Guard doesn’t seem to acknowledge glyphs as a valid form of magic himself.

           But then, if he were to get a redemption, the Golden Guard’s tune might change as he matures and learns to treat Luz more kindly… In a way mimicking how Eda really grew to care for Luz, but also the way Eda has begun to reconnect with Lilith, except with the Golden Guard as the one with the baggage and guilt.

           And, a redemption might not be too implausible, because… He is literally only sixteen, the same age as Emira and Edric, and likely the same age as Eda when SHE was cursed. Younger than Lilith, when she made the worst mistake of her life, because she didn’t understand the coven system for what it truly was –and who could blame her?- and was grappling with a likely terrible mother in Gwendolyn… The Golden Guard is literally a minor, and possibly an overworked teen prodigy.

           After all, the first glimpse of his personality Dana gave us, way back in 2020, was of the Golden Guard admitting that he was tired; And despite his usually cheery personality, all of our glimpses at his face behind the mask (symbolism!) have had him look likely serious and glum… But then again, we don’t see the lower half of his face, so who knows? 

          Perhaps the Golden Guard is abused and overworked by Belos, kind of like Amity with her parents… The Golden Guard is a child dealing with a very toxic influence, and a huge burden of responsibility no less. And with all the potential connections to Belos as maybe even a literal father, or at least a parental figure, it’s not hard to see why the Golden Guard would turn out so messed up. And the Golden Guard being ‘tired’ could be a connection to how Eda is left exhausted from her curse, too.

           So, who knows? Because of his age, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to expect, or at least hope, for a redemption for this kiddo. But a recent sister show to The Owl House has taught me anything, kids aren’t free from death, and Infinity Train made it clear that you can humanize and sympathize and mourn someone who deserved better, yet ultimately dug their grave and was condemned to a sudden death because of that; All because they didn’t know any better, and really couldn’t have.

           And on another note- Maybe the Golden Guard has owl motifs like Eda… Because in a lot of ways, he actually admires her? He admires the Owl Lady, or at least the certain ‘past’ version that others such as Lilith may have brought up… Maybe the Golden Guard seeks to supplant Eda the Owl Lady as The Most Powerful Witch in the Boiling Isles. Maybe he sees himself as Eda, but better, and this rebellious, hot-headed kid feels the need to prove himself by defeating someone he sees himself in.

           Maybe the Golden Guard is like Lilith, as someone who wishes Eda could’ve joined the coven system, and he’s disappointed in how all her talent was ‘wasted’ on other things. Maybe the Golden Guard was disappointed in Eda losing her magic, losing further respect for his ‘problematic idol’, and/or he felt some validation and vindication in being a successor to Eda. 

          Does he hold some grudge? Did the Owl Lady’s power excite him, give the Golden Guard a goal to recklessly challenge and defeat, so he can experience the thrill of victory and add to this feeling of invincibility that teenagers, especially the talented ones, have?

           Eda as a kid, and even now, has always been fond of spiting what others say she can’t do, or setting new precedents and accomplishments to prove herself. Maybe the Golden Guard is like that, and hopes to take on the onus of outdoing the Owl Lady; Perhaps he admires Eda, and wishes she could’ve joined a coven like him. As an outside admirer, he mourns Eda’s ‘potential’ in a way similar to Lilith, but different; Because he’s a kid who looks up to her, and not an older sibling that has an actual childhood with Eda. If so, then that’s another dark parallel to Luz;

           After all, Luz got frustrated by Eda in Adventures in the Elements. So maybe the Golden Guard is someone who grew resentful of Eda for not living up to the legend he hoped, the image he wanted, sort of like Lilith! I’ll go out on a limb and even suggest him as a past apprentice, who unlike Luz, never learned to be patient and appreciate Eda’s teachings, so he turned to the coven system and Belos for easy gratification. He didn’t want to be challenged… And in that way, the Golden Guard could parallel my speculation on Belos, as also a Dark Luz.

          So of course, it makes sense that Belos would recognize this same dilemma in the Golden Guard, and perhaps be sympathetic and take him under his wing for it. Eda might not recognize the Golden Guard because he’s changed a bit himself, is hiding his own identity –Lilith doesn’t seem to know much about the witch beneath the mask either, just the public image and façade- and Eda’s been having memory issues. Maybe this will add to the Golden Guard’s resentment, who knows? He really might just be a rebellious teen who Eda failed, unlike with Luz… And that could add to more envy, perhaps.

           At the very least; Dana’s fondness for the Golden Guard takes on a whole new meaning… What with how Eda is pretty much one of, if not THE most favorite character of hers, the one who really jumpstarted this entire show and world to begin with… Having this other character she likes essentially be a canon AU version of that beloved creation, would certainly make a lot of sense! Dana likes Eda, she likes to show us about Young Eda; So a character who IS Young Eda, just on a different path, would likely appeal to her. We’ll see…

           I think it’s worth noting that in her art of the Golden Guard, it depicts him as essentially a normal, lazy teenager who’s asking someone else to do his chore for him, while he lounges around to do something else. I could see a young Eda as occasionally fulfilling that role and asking her older sister Lily for a favor- And maybe this could allude to the Golden Guard being frequently exhausted from being overworked himself, hence “I’m tired” and wanting to extend his breaks as much as possible. We’ll just have to wait and see…

#the owl house #the owl house golden guard #the golden guard #the owl house the golden guard #the owl house eda #edalyn clawthorne #the owl house lilith #lilith clawthorne #the owl house belos #emperor belos #speculation #theory #analysis #essay #the owl house hunter

[seyaryminamoto]

As someone, who's favourite character is Zuko, let me just say that your analysis about the Southern Raiders is spot on. Something about that episode (especially the way Zuko acted) always felt a little... off to me. And I could never figure out what it was exactly and considering the fact that discussion about this episode centered around the Kataang vs Zutara, I thought I was the only one who felt that way. So, I guess thanks for putting my thoughts into words.

Oh, I really feel ya, anon. If you actually don't look at the episode from a shipping point of view, which seems to be the focus of most the fandom, a lot of unpleasant things really start sticking out. I'm personally neutral to the Kataang vs. Zutara debate, I see good points and drawbacks to both ships, and no one's going to convince me that this episode proved the superiority of either pairing, especially when the shipping interpretations have never been important to me when analyzing this episode. People can say Aang is right in the end, they can say Zuko understands Katara's plight better (which, considering Aang has lost even more people he loved than Zuko has, he certainly should have understood Katara's suffering quite well too), but focusing on whether Zuko or Aang are the angel or the devil on Katara's shoulders practically blinds everyone to the very glaring and mindboggling flaws in this episode's writing, imo.

In general, the concept of Zuko's life-changing field trips with the three Gaang members he'd wronged the most is fine and fun for most people, but from the first time I watched the show it felt like the production team knew they were pressed for time and needed some veeeery quick and effective solution for Zuko to gain acceptance in the Gaang ASAP despite all the bad blood there. I can imagine a lot of people love these episodes, but admittedly I wouldn't rank any of them among my favorites because, as interesting as some of their concepts could be, if executed right, my immersion certainly wasn't as strong as with the rest of the show due to the nagging feeling that this was all for the sake of redeeming Zuko in the eyes of each Gaang member... and not necessarily in the eyes of the audience.

They get away with it, of course, because by this point in time, the audience is 100% conditioned to love the Gaang and Zuko, and if you see them getting along, you should be rejoicing in their team-up... but if you put some emotional distance between yourself as a viewer and the events of these episodes, their writing leaves a lot to be desired, especially in the concept of giving Zuko a quick whitewashing in the eyes of Aang, Sokka and Katara, one after the other, so they can genuinely accept him as a teammate and friend. If we'd seen similar trips frequently or occasionally in the rest of the show, with two specific members of the team taking off on an adventure by themselves, it might not be so glaringly obvious (and even... artificial? I guess?) that they're trying to quick-redeem him for each of them here, but on top of it happening thrice, it's literally happening one after the other, too. There's no episodes in-between, it's just literally a four-parter arc of "let's help Zuko become friends with these three".

The plotlines to be dealt with in these episodes are basically catered to each Gaang member, tailor-made life-changing field trips based on whatever they'll value the most, all of it conveniently possible and doable in the span of time they have between Zuko's joining of their group and the show's finale. Aang needs to learn firebending, Sokka needs to save his dad, Katara is permanently grieving for her mother's death. And so, Zuko to the rescue! If he helps them with their personal character quests, he gets 50+ approval points! :'D Honestly, I'm absolutely not against the notion of Zuko befriending them, obviously not, but the methods through which they chose to make it happen simply might not be the finest...?

Zuko loses his ability to bend because he "lost his rage", but he's still angry pretty often, the show even spoofs its own writing by showing him losing his patience at Sokka... while at the same time trying to sell that Zuko "isn't angry" anymore? Zuko helps break out random prisoners from the Boiling Rock without taking a single moment to actually learn who they are, why they were locked up, and without pondering if they deserve to be helped or if perhaps they're genuinely dangerous? Zuko gives Katara every possible tool and information she needs to take revenge on Yon Rha, because, loosely quoting his own words, he "cares what she thinks of him"...?

How about if we'd seen Zuko trying to connect with Fire Nation people, to help his fellow Fire Nation citizens, especially the ones who were living in dreadful conditions, like the ones in the Jang Hui river village? How about if we'd seen Zuko saving lives rather than threatening to take them? How about if we'd seen Zuko actually reasoning with his anger, and either working his way out of it, or repurposing it consciously, or making legitimate, personal efforts to find a new source of strength for his firebending through self-reflection, above all else?

We didn't really need sudden one-on-one field trips to teach Aang, Katara and Sokka to trust Zuko: we needed Zuko to prove himself worthy of that trust, to show how much he has changed, to literally contrast his new behavior with the old, to actually see that the guy no longer jumps into violence-mode 24/7, that he's willing to listen to other people's opinions or wisdom, that he wants to learn better when he knows he's misguided or misunderstanding something or another. Would he have become BFFs with any of them in four episodes if this had happened? Well, it definitely would have happened with Aang, the other two would have been trickier, but they definitely would have been more willing to accept him if they actually got to SEE that the changes in Zuko weren't skin-deep. Katara can be as thick-headed and stubborn as she may want to be, but I have no doubts she wouldn't have been able to hate Zuko as much as she used to if she'd seen him helping people, much like she often wants their group to do. But instead, they don't get to see the actual changes and growth... they just get their biggest goals and wishes satisfied, and that's enough to decide Zuko's trustworthy, no matter whatever sketchy behavior he displays in later episodes.

I absolutely appreciate the worldbuilding context we gain for the raids on the Water Tribe through The Southern Raiders, but I don't think this was an organic way to tell the story of how Zuko became friends with the Gaang. If pressed, I'd even say that Zuko's overt desperation to be their friend is OOC, to a degree: if this guy actually knows how dangerous his father's plans are (and he's supposed to :'D), how isn't he focusing on that side of things, when he's always been such a go-getter? It's not like he grew out of this sort of ends-justify-the-means behavior, seeing as he's absolutely obsessed with stopping his father ASAP, by any means possible, in the finale, when there was no such urgency to be found ever since he joined the Gaang. How isn't he more worried about stopping Ozai than about becoming best friends with the Gaang? Immediately sharing everything he's learned about Ozai's intentions of destroying the whole world might not make them friends instantaneously, but it would certainly get someone like Sokka to take his information seriously and immediately begin strategizing how to counter Ozai's plans. Instead, Zuko spent all those weeks, over a month, even, teaching Aang firebending, going on field trips and hanging out with his new friends in Ember Island. Once you have all the cards on deck and you actually look at all of them at once, doesn't it feel like there were so many more ways to achieve what the show was going for, far more effective ways than through the "let's be friends with Zuko" arc?

Ultimately, there's very little display of growth, in my opinion, in this small arc, on Zuko's side, despite the most obvious and reasonable way to earn the trust of the Gaang would be by outright showing them how much he's grown. I won't deny I appreciate that the writers respected his personality and didn't just warp him into the perfect good softboi the way the fandom apparently interprets him, but even if Zuko was going to be cranky and speak one-liners like "I'm never happy", it wasn't impossible to write better situations for him to connect with the Gaang's members and gain their trust. Even if the writers were set on having these episodes happen exactly as they did, they absolutely could have been written in a much better way, to create an explicit and direct contrast between Zuko's early behavior and the new Zuko's behavior when it comes to things that matter (most the parallels I've seen the fandom drawing are things like "oh look he hated tea before but now he brews it for his friends! So much growth!"... would've been nice to see the growth when it came to a lot of other things, too, if the growth really was there? Am I rite...?).

I may just be influenced by other redemption arcs that focus mainly on characters having common goals and working together to achieve them, then becoming friends in the process... but I really don't see how Zuko's character benefited from these episodes. Yes, bridges were built... but they absolutely could have been built in a more organic way that didn't make people like myself (and a few others) question if Zuko had learned or grown at all, considering the way he behaves isn't all that distant from the Zuko we've seen and known throughout the rest of the show. And the fact that he really seems to have learned nothing in The Southern Raiders once you reach the show's finale... you're basically asked to take for granted Zuko did learn a lot of lessons because he says he did, to assume he's going to put them into practice sometime in the future despite he has chances to do it during the show itself but never does, simply because they drop the ball upon every opportunity to show how much he's changed.

I really don't blame his character at all, when it comes to these shortcomings... it's seriously, genuinely, a problem with the writing department. Take a look through the fandom and you'll see thousands of people who claim Zuko's character arc is the most touching, complex and beautiful writing they ever have seen... and why? Because we're in the face of tell-don't-show :'D most people's perception of Zuko's character are based not so much on HOW Zuko displays his growth, it's strongly based on him stating he made progress, even if there's too many instances where the growth simply seems to have fallen to the wayside or gone forgotten for the sake of a plotline or another. Zuko absolutely could have been written far better than this, he could absolutely have the redemption arc his fans are sure he does have, but for me... there's way too many gaps in logic, too many missed opportunities, to truly think his growth was as extraordinary as a lot of people are hung up on saying it was.

#anon #woops #I probably shouldn't have written this much here but what can I say #I've got beef with these storylines #and I unfortunately can't bbq it (?) #so instead I ramble and ramble and hope you guys forgive me for how long-winded I can be :'D

[medusinestories]

Onwards to the episode in which we get to see Flint and Silver each having a very bad day (as well as two literal dicks that nobody had asked to see).

Black Sails VII (s1 ep07)

- We open on Pastor Lambrick's sweaty face as he intensely rehearses the Easter sermon and he’s obviously eaten up by what he did with Miranda. His sermon, unsurprisingly, focuses on sin, keeping sin hidden, and the hell that awaits the sinner. Which leads us nicely onto Flint, who’s distracted (by his own sin? by thoughts of Miranda? both?) during a meeting with Eleanor. Eleanor is pissed that Miranda let Richard Guthrie send a message to the Andromache and then waltz into town to close up his business; Flint tries to take the heat off Miranda, once again protecting her (at this point, he may not know the contents of the letter).

- During this meeting, Flint is startled when Silver first speaks up to say that the mob in the street was bad - clearly Silver is a sort of intruder in this meeting. But Eleanor, after Silver reminds her by unsubtly clearing his throat, tells Flint that he’s not to harm Silver because he was instrumental in setting up the Consortium. Silver looks so pleased with himself in these scenes, and Flint quite defeated when he tells Silver to follow him back to their camp. I love it.

- To parallel Flint/Miranda’s Sulky Sex scene from ep4, we have Anne/Rackham’s frustrating/disconnected sex scene. It shows us a few things about them mainly that Anne wants to keep a lot of control over what happens, hence Rackham being tied up (though of course this might also be his kink), her wearing a shirt that covers up most of her body, and the reverse cowgirl position that means that she’s both in control of what happens and completely avoids eye contact. The position reminds us of the Flint/Miranda scene, where Miranda was also on top, but their scene involved more eye contact (yes glaring counts, he’s still intensely focused on Miranda), gentle touching (on Miranda’s side) and her being naked and open to him. Another parallel is that both Flint and Rackham aren’t in the right frame of mind for sex, Flint being angry and Rackham lost in a sea of worries (and probably also somewhat angry/disappointed at Anne for forcing him into the plot to kill their crewmates). The difference between Flint and Rackham is that while Flint doesn’t seem to have any trouble performing, Rackham is miles away and doesn’t even notice that he’s lost his erection - again. Anne is frustrated by this, and apparently knows him well enough that she offers to put something up his arse, but he’s clearly not in the mood, and she leaves in a huff, abandoning him all tied up as a sort of revenge for his performance problems. Whatever the problem is between them isn’t put into words (because Anne can’t yet, for starters), unlike the one between Flint and Miranda. The intimacy between Rackham and Anne, so often described as close partners, seems much more distant to me than the one shown between Flint and Miranda. I’m not sure whether it’s because of anyone’s sexual orientation, or just the fact that they’re fucking but they’ve never discussed the big important things, such as Anne’s identity/feelings/etc.

- In this episode, Dufresne gains a lot of power: with a freshly (and badly) shaved head and a new tattoo, he’s been promoted to Quartermaster on the Walrus in Billy’s place. And very quickly he has a problem to deal with: Randall revealing that Silver stole the page. Gates had actually already told this to Dufresne, as is revealed at the end of the episode, which might explain why Dufresne is relatively calm during the whole conversation, while DeGroot wants Silver and Flint hanged and Howell is surprisingly ruthless: he brings up the idea that it may be better to kill off Randall in order to get to the treasure, if they can’t make sure he’ll keep quiet about Silver being the thief. Dufresne is actually quite kind towards Silver in the scene where he puts Silver’s memory to the test - a test that could result in his death if he fails it and that Silver constantly grumbles against (I love his grumbling!). Basically, at this point Dufresne remains quite a sympathetic character, which will change a lot as the show goes on, especially after Jannes Eiselen had to leave the show (such a sad story, RIP Jannes).

- In the meantime, the Flint and Gates relationship is crumbling. It's sad to see, especially since they're shown sharing chuckles as they talk about Dufresne's appointment in the beginning of the episode. But then Gates brings up the subject of Miranda and demands explanations about the letter Billy found. We're not shown exactly what Flint answers, but it's clear that he's actually trying his best to give him an explanation without incriminating Miranda too badly. The sad thing is that Flint is actually telling the truth: he actually wasn't involved in any betrayal of his crew and and can only guess at Miranda's motivations. But the fact that he's lied time and again in previous situations, including on the Maria Aleyne where he claimed Lord Alfred drew a weapon on him (and Gates secretly verified that this was a lie), and used men as pawns to advance his and Miranda's plans, is now catching up to him. Flint seems truly hurt when Gates accuses him of using the men for his own purposes, and turns spiteful, telling Gates that he should have been "a better father" to Billy and helped him "understand the world he was living in" (suggesting that such a forthright character as Billy can't really survive in a world of pirates who are all ready to stab each other in the back). After that slap in the face, Gates says he's exhausted from Flint and threatens to take it to the crew. Somehow, this pushes Flint to bare all: he tells Gates about his plan to keep a part of the treasure and use it to build up Nassau, depicting himself as a sort of saviour, doing it for the men's good: they'd rather be rich men in a safe place than dead thieves hanging from a noose. Gates sees this as delusions of grandeur, and tells him that while he'll see the Urca plot through, after that they're done. I actually think he sees Flint’s point, since he doesn’t just throw him to the crew, but won’t admit that out loud. The whole of this scene hurts bad, because you can tell that Flint is desperate and sad to be losing his closest ally and friend, and that Gates is hurting from the loss of Billy and exhausted from the toxic relationship he has with Flint, where he's played enabler to his manipulations for years.

- While Flint and Gates’ alliance is breaking, Silver has to forge one with Randall or die. Randall finds out in the beginning of the episode that he’s been voted out of the crew. This is apparently due to DeGroot’s fears that Randall could be a fire hazard, which the crew took disproportionately to heart. Randall is furious with Silver, who smugly tells him that in these situations, a setback often comes with a new or unexpected opportunity. He’s right, but at this point he doesn’t know that he is the opportunity Randall’s going to latch on. Randall reveals that Silver is a thief, and Silver denies it, saying that Randall is both a halfwit and was in a haze of opium when he heard what he thought he heard; he even tries to convince Randall that he was mistaken (this, my friends, is gaslighting). However, by revealing that Silver was the thief, Randall sets a chain of events into motion which could either end with his death (if Howell has his way, since Randall is an inconvenient witness) or Silver’s (if DeGroot tips the balance, not trusting Silver to remember the coordinates and not wanting to sacrifice Randall for nothing). Silver figures out that these are the outcomes, and tries to talk sense into Randall by making a deal with him: he’ll care for Randall and make sure he can stay on the ship. But it’s only when Silver finally admits that he is the thief and that Randall was right, that Randall accepts the deal. Later, Silver realises that Randall might have orchestrated the whole thing: he’s now got Silver to serve him, doesn’t have to take any risks on the ship, and gets to remain with the crew. Silver wonders if Randall is a genius rather than a halfwit (a word thrown about a lot to describe him). And it seems quite obvious, considering what happened, that Randall still has strong survival skills (an amputee with impaired cognitive skills doesn’t stand a chance of survival outside a crew and he must be aware of it), that he still has a good memory and an ability to pick out useful information and that he’s aware enough of what’s going on to be upset by the crew’s rejection and Silver’s attempt to gaslight him. I think it’s important to recognise that Randall is more than a comic relief or a grotesque character: he’s a disabled man who's lost parts of his cognitive ability and is struggling to survive.

- This episode focuses on Vane facing his past. He seeks out the island where he grew up and its master, Albinus. I’d forgotten or never really registered that Albinus was a pirate and that the men who work for him were mostly his crew - and likely slaves (or children, hence Vane?) that he managed to capture/press into service. He’s retired from pirating and set up a system where his men cut down trees for timber all day, without wages. It’s not clear exactly how he holds so much power over these men, although it seems that everyone is terrified of him. He’s extremely strong physically, seems shrewd, speaks rather well, and his tattoos suggest that maybe he’s involved in some kind of ritual (truly religious or just for show?) which would make him all the more scary to superstitious people. Vane is clearly still frightened: he barely makes eye contact and practically stutters when he first tries to make the deal with Albinus, which is that he’ll take some of Albinus’ men as crew and send Albinus part of their earnings as tribute. It says a lot about Albinus that Vane, after years of having run away, is still so scares that he’s willing to pay him a tribute. But he changes his mind as he stares at a boy bearing the same brand as he does: he tries to persuade the men that Nassau is a pace of pleasures rather than hard labour, and confronts Albinus. The fight is brutal and ends with Vane buried naked, just after Albinus tells him that he’s proud of him. But of course Vane wouldn’t be Vane if he didn’t rise from the dead at the last minute and kill Albinus, goaded on by his inner Eleanor voice.

- In the meantime, Mr Scott returns to Eleanor, apologising for what he did, telling her he betrayed her out of love. However he also reminds her of his slave status: technically, he belongs to her. The argument upsets her, and he quite cleverly uses this moment to ask her to free the slaves who were on the Andromache. And it works: by the end of the episode, she’s made arrangements for the men to work on ships and has bought the women’s freedom and found them jobs in her tavern. But Mr Scott has still decided to leave Eleanor to join Hornigold’s crew, to refrain from meddling with Eleanor’s affairs, since he disagrees with her so strongly re: the Urca. Hornigold approached him earlier in the episode, and the introduction to that scene is quite interesting: Hornigold says to Mr Scott “I’ll need to know your secret” and Mr Scott looks startled and frightened. It seems that he’s startled because he’d been giving food to the slaves, but in light of S3, it could be a much greater secret that’s being referred to. Mr Scott is relieved when he realises that Hornigold is simply talking about tolerating Eleanor, who he clearly can’t stand.

- Flint’s bad day continues, of course, with the big confrontation he has with Miranda. He’s furious about the letter (of which he now knows the contents thanks to Gates), telling her that it could have got him killed, or destroyed the plans they’d made and asking her whether she was trying to embarrass him. This sounds so weirdly petty, and yet it also sounds exactly like the kind of argument that would come up in a bickering couple. Miranda answers that she was trying to help him out of that life, because she wants to move on. This is where Miranda utters the famous “there is no life here, there is no joy here, there is no love here”. I noticed that, covered by Flint yelling at her, and distorted because her voice has gone very shrill, Miranda says another line, which sounds like “you used to love, then”. If that really is what she says, it’s extra-extra-extra heartbreaking to hear (if someone wants to check it for me, it’s around 35:40). It’s obvious that Flint and Miranda’s views on life are very different, and I can’t help but think back to the fact that, as a carpenter’s son from the country, Flint has had to struggle all his life to become who he is. So when he says that you can’t get a life without having a war, and Miranda tells him he’s wrong, she’s speaking entirely from the point of view of her privilege. She’s never needed to fight as hard as he has to be happy, because she got extremely lucky in marrying Thomas. And when she says that Thomas would agree with her, I’m certain she’s right. But life has never been like that for Flint, and there’s no way he’ll ever entirely agree with their point of view. Rewatching this scene is tough, btw, because they both have great points, they’re both hurting so much, and there’s so much to take in between the body language, the facial expressions, the tones of voice and the actual words that it’s a whole whirlwind. And it feels very, very real.

- It’s absolutely hilarious to see Rackham get robbed by the whores taking advantage of his lack of knowledge (and research). He should absolutely have done a better job and has no clue how to run a brothel. He’s lucky Max takes things in hand after having heard from Idelle that the girls were taking advantage.

- Then we have the beautiful Drunk Flint scene. Eleanor notices him feeling very sorry for himself after Gates has pretty much broken up with him and he’s still reeling from fighting with by Miranda. I think Flint feels very misunderstood here. He thought that he was doing something good, to save Nassau and avenge Thomas, and doesn’t understand why they can’t see it, why they only see the terrible methods he uses to reach his goals. So he’s full of doubt, clearly wondering if he’s the villain of the story, and puts the question to Eleanor: is their plan worth it? Eleanor is the only person who still believes in him, which leads us to the only scene that I would ever call straight-baiting. Flint hovers near Eleanor, breathing heavily, and a variety of emotions play over her face during this moment of tension, as she seems to think this is leading to a kiss. It does, he gives her a chaste little forehead kiss and leaves. All the elements are in place to make your average viewer start shipping these two. I actually find it hilarious that the ship barely exists in the fandom (though I wasn’t there in the beginning of the fandom and I guess the viewership changed a lot between S1 and S4).

- The scene with Flint and Gates glaring at each other from their respective ships and Parson’s Farewell playing in the background... epic! We know this is the beginning of a big struggle between them, especially since we find out that Gates has pretty much decided that he’ll hand Flint over to the crew once they get the money. But nnnnggh that scene! The ships leaving on their hunt! Awesome and heartbreaking!

#black sails #flint #gates #flint & gates #miranda #flintmiranda #eleanor #flint & eleanor #mr scott #eleanor & mr scott #silver #randall #dufresne #degroot #howell #vane #rackham #max #pastor lambrick #ableism cw #long post cw #black sails rewatch

[greenheartart]

AU Theories

Earlier today I got thinking about the various AUs (just a few of the main ones) and wondering about their origins.  Like... where they split off from Undertale and why.  I don’t know enough about the various AUs to know if there’s even an answer for that, but I got to thinking... 

What if the AUs split because of Asgore and Toriel?  Specifically because of their reactions to the loss of Asriel and Chara?

Like... okay...

Undertale - Asgore, in a fit of anger and grief, declares war on humanity and that every human who falls into the Underground will be killed.  Toriel, disgusted, flees the kingdom and sequesters herself in the Ruins.  Asgore later regrets his rash words, but unable to take them back, simply rules his kingdom with a gentle hand to the best of his ability, and hopes that more humans will never come.  He’s perhaps not the most on-task king, letting certain duties slide because he prefers to spend his time wandering and visiting with his subjects, or tending to his garden, rather than focusing on ruling his kingdom, but things run smoothly enough and he seems well-liked.  The Underground is a safe and peaceful place, overseen (if not run particularly competently) by King Asgore.

But if we tweak one little thing...

Underfell - Asgore declares war on humanity and death to any humans that enter the Underground.  Toriel, disgusted by him, flees.  BUT... Asgore doesn’t regret his words.  Instead, he obsesses over the loss of his children and the desertion of his wife, blaming humanity for the pain he feels.  He grows bitter and angry.  Any sympathy towards humanity becomes a treasonous offense, and Asgore doesn’t have mercy in him anymore.  As the centuries pass, he becomes increasingly isolated, paranoid, and violent, transforming from King to Tyrant.  Without a stable leader, the Underground begins to fall apart.  Access to food and supplies become less dependable, theft and corruption become increasingly common as a result, and eventually any order in the kingdom only comes through violence or fear of Asgore’s wrath.  As things grow more desperate and unpredictable, becoming tougher through gaining LV becomes the best way for monsters to ensure their survival.  Monsters who are outwardly soft or weak don’t last long.  The law of the land is kill or be killed.  The Underground is dangerous and violent, overshadowed by Asgore the Tyrant.

A different small tweak...

Underswap -  This time, it’s not Asgore who speaks up first - it’s Toriel.  Swept up in a fit of grief and rage, she denounces humanity for what it has done and without stopping to think of what she’s saying, declares that any human that crosses paths with monsterkind will not be met with mercy, as they showed none to her children.  Asgore is stunned by his wife’s sudden and unexpected call for violence, and watching her, finds he’s sickened by the notion of killing more humans.  He retreats, first from her side, then from the castle, and then from the entire kingdom, only stopping once he’s reached their old home in the Ruins.  It doesn’t take long for Toriel to regret what she’s said in grief, but it’s too late.  The Underground latches onto her words as the only hope they have left anymore.  With Asgore nowhere to be found, she resigns herself to ruling the kingdom alone, and hopes that no future humans will ever come along and force her to make good on her word.  Of the two boss monsters, Toriel had always been the brains of the operation, so the kingdom is managed neatly under her rule.  She’s kind and motherly, and stays involved in the daily aspects of ruling the Underground.  Under her watchful eye, there’s plenty to go around for everyone, and any disputes are resolved quickly and fairly.  The Underground is a safe and peaceful place (and perhaps more prosperous and well-run than in Undertale), ruled by Queen Toriel.

And with a small nudge...

Swapfell - After Toriel declares monsters and humans enemies once more and Asgore flees, Toriel doesn’t back down.  Instead, she doubles down in her grief.  Bereaved of her children and abandoned by her husband to manage the throne alone, she pours everything she has into running her kingdom.  She stays on top of things obsessively, turning the Underground into a well-oiled machine.  Her people prosper, but Toriel becomes cold and distant.  Emotionless.  And as the centuries pass and one by one, human souls trickle into her grasp, her thoughts turn to what she sees at the inevitable coming war.  Toriel grows hungry for expansion - to add to her kingdom, to take back some of what she lost so long ago.  More and more emphasis begins being put on strength, willingness to fight, loyalty to the crown.  The ranks of the royal guard swell and monsters begin competing for coveted positions of wealth and privilege by Toriel’s side.  If murmurs of dissent or unsurety begin cropping up (the kingdom is prosperous, everything is in balance, is war really necessary?) they're quickly put down.  Monsters within her guard begin accruing LV and even more emphasis is put on loyalty - on being willing to do what needs to be done for the good of the kingdom. And the Crown, the Empress, is the heart of the kingdom.  Toriel becomes insulated within circles of loyal followers, all vying to be most trusted, most valued by their immortal Empress, who sees and rules over all.  The Underground is a dangerous place where no one can be trusted, ruled by Empress Toriel.

I don’t know if any of these concepts are even vaguely canon to the various AUs, but it’s just a fun thought, how little tweaks can potentially change the Underground significantly, and provide wildly differing environments for characters to grow up in.

#writing things #AUs #I only bag on Asgore's leadership so much because we don't really see him being a king #he mostly seems to want to be just a regular guy #and is only reluctantly in charge at this point #I think there's also a few lines in the game that basically say he left Alphys to her own devices #without any real oversight or assistance #just vague orders to find a way to save everyone #if I'm remembering that right #... not an example of great leadership

[themoonlitsojourner]

Chapter 2: Need you here ‘cause I’m a mess

Emotions are messy, unruly, and a complete mystery to Raven. But she can't leave her friend to endure this alone. Not once she sees the state Gar's in.

Emptiness. One word, but a whole world of hurt behind it. How can Gar feel nothing and the throb of his bleeding heart at the same time?

‘How.’ It’s the only question on his mind.

How could she? Did the months of teamwork and friendship, of welcoming Tara into their home with every reassurance and smile mean nothing to her?

Gar bites down on his lip and tastes blood.

Didn’t their nights spent stargazing, their shared glances and whispered secrets mean anything to her, when they meant the world to him? Was every shy brush of her hand against his fake? Was every kiss a trick?

He’ll never know. The worst part isn’t the betrayal. It’s the fact that she’s never coming back. She’s never coming home.

A scene flashes through Gar’s mind, the memory that plays over and over every time he closes his eyes.

A katana piercing the bandages wrapped around Tara’s stomach, the vicious twist as Slade yanks the blade from the last wound he will ever give his apprentice. Tara’s shocked expression as she collapses, Garfield’s terrified cry as he cradles his first love in his arms. As he watches her bleed out with every throbbing heartbeat and gasping breath. As Tara dies in his arms.

In just a few hours, she betrayed him and died. He lost her twice that day.

The anger Garfield worked so hard to stoke and feed fizzles out, replaced by the sharp ache of pure loss tearing through his chest like a wild beast, ripping into his heart and lungs until he can’t breathe. Why couldn’t he save her? Why wasn’t he enough?

Tears roll down his cheeks, soaking his fur as his shoulders tremble. He wants to stop, to take control of himself and shut down. Anything to stop the pain.

Anything to stop missing her.

~~~

“He’s been in there all morning.” Richard sets the TV remote down and sends a worried glance at the hallway leading to the team’s living quarters. “Do you think we should…?”

“He doesn’t wanna talk about it.” Victor passes an empty soda bottle from hand to hand, never once looking up. He tried to reach out to Garfield again yesterday. When he returned, his expression told the others exactly how it went.

Raven’s gaze flicks to Koriand’r as the redhead sighs loudly and props her chin on her hands. “There is truly nothing we can do to help?” She sends Richard a pleading look, undoubtedly wanting to make Garfield another present. It’s a sweet thought, but ultimately futile. Just like everything else they’ve tried.

“Not if he won’t let us,” Victor replies. He finally lifts his head, turning to catch Raven’s eyes. “You tried yet?”

“I’ve been giving him his space.” He wouldn’t want to see me. Not if he turned away Richard and Kori. Not if he won’t even talk to Victor.

“It has been two days since he has emerged from his room,” Kori points out, voice and thoughts drenched in sorrow. She’s right to be worried.

“I’ll try.” Raven stands. “But I don’t think it will help.”

“Will it hurt?” Victor says quietly, gaze returning to his soda bottle.

The question is rhetorical, of course. Nothing could hurt Garfield any worse than what’s already happened.

With each step toward his room, the pain in Raven’s head grows. She closes her eyes and stops to lean on the wall, bracing herself against the waves of guilt, regret, anger, sorrow. And grief. So much grief, in every shade and variation she’s ever sensed, present all at once in a single boy.

Taking a deep breath, Raven centers herself. She closes the distance to Gar’s room and knocks on the door. No answer. Not even a rustle of movement. If it weren’t for the hurricane of emotion flooding from him, she might think the room was empty.

“Garfield,” she says to the closed door. “It’s Raven.”

Nothing changes. Not with the door and not in his mind.

She didn’t come before because he needed time to process and mourn. But now that she’s here… Garfield’s in too much anguish for her to just turn around and leave. He shouldn’t be alone with this.

“I’m coming in.” Raven’s hand rests on the doorknob for a few seconds, giving him a chance to protest. Silence. She opens the door and steps inside, shutting it quietly behind her.

The room is dim. The only trace of light seeps through the half-shuttered window, filtering between storm clouds and raindrops to drench the room in an even gray. Garfield lies on his side in bed, the covers tangled beneath him. He stares out at the downpour, expression distant and blank. Tired. Empty.

Raven closes her eyes again, just for a moment. Her head pounds, her chest tight and aching with the agony pouring from him like the rain from the sky. She forces herself to open her eyes.

“I don’t wanna get out of bed.” Garfield’s voice breaks the silence, raspy and flat. “I don’t wanna do anything.” His dull eyes trace a raindrop trickling down the glass. “That’s never happened to me before,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry.” Raven’s throat feels thick, like a knot has tied the middle shut, and breathing past it is difficult. Her thoughts slow and blur, a numbness settling upon her. This… this is how Garfield feels. The sensations that plague her mimic the heaviness of grief upon his chest, the darkness of apathy draining the color from his being. This is the extent of his pain.

If Raven had the words to comfort him, she’d give them freely. If she knew how to help, she would stop at nothing. But that is an ability her mentor Azar never taught her. A skill she’s never learned, despite the years spent surrounded by caring, whole people who do know how to soothe and comfort. It’s yet another area where she has failed them.

Dark streaks trail the fur on Gar’s face, marking the path of tears. Another falls as Raven watches.

“Why can’t I just hate her?” he chokes. “Why do I have to miss her?”

“Because you care, despite what she did. Because that’s who you are.” It’s the truth. She knows how to give him that, at least.

Garfield inhales shakily. “Yeah. And it’s how I got hurt.”

Without that openness and trust, you wouldn’t be Garfield. But even if Raven argues, she won’t be able to make him believe. Not when he’s still so deeply wounded.

She searches for something to say as Gar falls silent again. He crosses his arms and pulls his knees to his chest, curling into a fetal position. “There’s so much I never got to tell her,” he whispers to himself.

Watching him feels like an intrusion and there’s nothing she can do to help. Raven turns to leave and give him his privacy, but his voice stops her.

“Please.”

When she glances back, Garfield is looking at her for the first time since she stepped into the room. His emerald green eyes, normally so full of joy and mirth, are dark and pained. They reflect the ache throbbing inside him, the one pulsing in Raven’s head.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispers. “I don’t want to be alone.”

His words hit Raven like a shot to the chest.

After Tara left, in more ways than one, after what she did to him… He’s afraid to be left alone again. And he’s asking for Raven, of all people, to stay.

The pressure in her head builds until she wants to scream. “Let me get you something to eat.” She needs an escape.

Garfield’s shoulders drop. His head falls back to the pillow, eyes returning to the gray sky. “Sure.”

Just like that, any emotion in his voice disappears as he slips back under the numbness. Another dagger pushed into Raven’s heart. She shuts the door behind her with shaking hands, working to calm her breathing. His pain, his grief… It’s too much.

She walks to the kitchen without thought. Kori looks up hopefully as soon as she enters, Richard and Victor following suit.

“How is he?” Richard asks.

“Not good.” Raven wrenches the fridge open, searching for something Garfield would never turn down, not even in his current state. “He’s depressed.”

The word lies sour and dark on her tongue, the reality of it sending dread rolling over her. Sunny, ridiculously optimistic Garfield, depressed. Beast Boy, the light of the team, caught in the dark of his own mind.

Her fist slams down on the kitchen counter with a crack. “Curse you, Tara,” Raven hisses.

Sharp pain travels up her nerves, the sensation delayed by her anger. Feeling her friend’s wide eyes on her, Raven snatches a container of last night’s garlic tofu and rice out of the fridge and marches from the room.

No one will ever put Garfield through this again. Not on her watch. If she’s the one he’s reaching out to, then Raven will do whatever it takes to make him whole. To bring back the smile to her friend’s face and the light to his eyes. If it means hours of extra meditation afterwards to maintain her control, then so be it. It’s more than a fair price.

“I brought garlic stir-fry.” Raven sets the container on his bookshelf, next to a picture frame turned face down. Her gaze lingers there. It isn’t hard to guess who’s in the photo.

“You came back.” Gar glances at her, then away when she faces him. “I thought that was just your excuse to get away from the mess in my head.” He makes a finger gun and taps it against his temple. “Not that I blame you.”

A shudder runs down Raven’s spine. Her mouth goes dry. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m just joking.” His voice is small and quiet.

The dark part of Raven is angry that Tara will never see what she did to him, the shell she reduced him to. Gar cares more than anyone else can ever hope to, and Tara used that. Troubled or not, a victim of manipulation or not, nothing can ever change that truth.

Raven pushes the darkness back and locks it away in a far corner of her mind. Tara is not her concern now. Garfield is.

“How can I help?”

Gar blinks. “You can’t. Not unless you can take away the pain, like when I get beat up on a mission.” He laughs once, a bitter huff.

Raven steps forward. “I can’t.” She sits next to him on the bed. “But I can share it.”

Garfield’s eyes widen and he jerks to sitting, showing the first bit of life she’s seen in two days. “Raven, no.” His ears droop, his brow furrowing. “That’ll hurt you.”

“If you can handle it, then so can I.” The situation calls for comfort she doesn’t know how to give. But her friends do. So she mimics the way she’s seen Victor reassure Kori and cups Gar’s cheek, fingertips finding still damp fur. She lets her concern show, her lips falling into a frown. “And I’m more worried about you, Gar.”

His eyes glimmer. Just a spark, for just a second. “You called me Gar.” Slowly, he shakes his head, gaze still fixed on Raven. “You never use nicknames.”

Despite her teammates’ best efforts to the contrary, Raven always uses their proper first names. It makes it easier to pretend she isn’t as emotionally involved, as attached to them as she knows she is. It’s silly, honestly. She uses the nicknames in her head anyway.

“Yes,” Raven confesses. “I did.”

“I knew you thought it was cool,” Gar mumbles, curling up on his side again. But this time, he lays his head in Raven’s lap.

She freezes for a moment, scrambling to comprehend this new turn of events. Her hand ends up in his hair, so she tentatively smooths it, careful to avoid the knots. She’s never been comfortable with touch. It’s a strange and unfamiliar sensation to her, having experienced it only rarely on Azarath. But she tries to set that aside now.

“Promise you won’t leave.” Garfield’s vulnerable like she’s never seen him. So small and afraid compared to who he usually is. Or maybe he’s always hidden it well, even from her. “I just… I need…”

“I need you here.” His thoughts say what he can’t. “I need you.”

No one has ever needed Raven before. All her life, she has brought this world only darkness and the promise of death and destruction at the hand of her father. But somehow, Gar sees something different. That ability to find the best in people, regardless of who they are… it’s his greatest quality.

“I promise,” Raven answers. “I won’t leave.”

Closing her eyes, she bows her head and lowers the walls around her mind.

Emotions seep in, flowing from the broken boy with his head in her lap. Forceful, potent feelings, far stronger than any she’s ever experienced through her empathy before. They whip through her mind in blinding colors, mingling with and amplifying each other, complex and interconnected. When she lets herself appreciate them, they’re almost beautiful, despite the monumental effort it takes to keep them from overwhelming her.

Raven breathes carefully and slowly, the tightness in her chest returning threefold. Inhale… Exhale… The sound is her point of focus as she works to channel the pain from Gar and release it into the void her powers come from, allowing herself to be a conduit.

A hand reaches up to touch her cheek, the contact pulling her mind back to this world. Gentle fingers wipe away a single tear that managed to escape her control. “Rae…”

Raven opens her eyes to see Garfield watching her with concern. Just two days ago, he endured tragedy that no one should ever have to experience, trauma that would break most anyone. Yet he’s concerned for her.

“Get some sleep.” Raven brushes Gar’s hair from his face and he obediently closes his eyes, too exhausted to fight. She feels his tight muscles ease as she pulls the brunt of his emotions into herself, taking the edge off his pain.

The technique is beyond dangerous and it hurts. But if she can offer Gar any comfort, she won’t withhold it. No matter the ferocity of the storm within her.

As Garfield’s breathing deepens and he drifts into slumber for what she suspects is the first time since Tara died, Raven repeats her promise.

“I won’t leave you.”

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 3)

(Previous fic in series: Slow dancing in the Darkness)

(Next fic in series: The Sound of the Sword)

#just use the link to read the first chapter and the previous fic in the series #bbrae #beast boy #raven #garfield logan #teen titans #teen titans animated #teen titans animated series #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #mine #writing

[knowledgequeenabc]

you belong to me, my snow white queen, there’s nowhere to run

I’ve been so dead inside I never posted my NNQ fics but, happy belated tenth, Ninjago! the fandom has been wonderful and I’ve made so many friends, seen so much beautiful work, made it through so much because of this silly little plastic ninja show. <3 This fic’s title comes from “Snow White Queen” by Evanescence (yeah I know don’t @ me), if you wanna. set the mood for this one. We’re gonna be following Nya after Skybound for a bit and it won’t be pretty.

Nya remembers it all.

It never happened, of course. That was the condition of Jay’s last wish: that none of it had ever happened in the first place. 

Yet she remembers.

It’s good that she does, honestly. She’ll recognize the threat if it ever presents itself again. Plus, the others don’t remember, so they can’t worry themselves about it.

Jay wanted to tell them. “No more secrets,” he said. She’s proud of him, she really is, at least he’s learned from dragging them through hell and back …

But she can’t do it.

She remembers Jay’s eyes, glinting bright and worried in a dim room, as he asks if she’s sure about this; Nya remembers her voice hardening to keep vulnerability from bleeding through as she nods. She’s well aware it’s unwise to keep a secret this heavy, thank you, but they’re both heart-wrenchingly familiar with secrets. What’s one more?

Getting angry at Jay for keeping secrets and then turning around and asking to keep this one … it’s hypocritical. She sees the recognition of the fact in his eyes, but there’s understanding mixed with it; it’s his secret, too. It’s their burden to shoulder behind closed doors, afraid to face their family. After losing Zane and getting him back, after Chen and Garmadon, after Morro, peace feels fraught, like walking a tightrope over another storm. How would the others react to knowing they’d broken again? She doesn’t want to deal with the answer to that question.

So Nya does what she does best. She squares her shoulders and marches through each day, reminding herself with each skip of her heart, each flash of her life before her eyes, each time the world blurs that it’s over now. It spits in the face of every lesson life’s beaten into her bones, reverting to stubbornness and pride and the kind of independence that would rather see her amputate an injured limb than get help for it, but it’s a twisted kind of easier to wrestle her pain in silence. The sky pirates made it clear that she needs to stop being afraid to rely on her team, and with a distant sense of guilt it occurs to her that applies to her emotions about this situation, too, but ...

But that fight’s over. And Nya honestly wants nothing more than to take the lesson to heart and put the rest behind her. Let sleeping dogs lie, and all.

Slight problem with that plan: she’s beginning to get the feeling they don’t want to stay asleep. Nya’s good at compartmentalizing, and has been ever since she was an orphan child balancing school and keeping the forge afloat, but the neat dividers are starting to give.

All she can do is watch as the cracks spider out like the Tiger Widow’s web.

~~~~

Lloyd sits on the edge of the ship’s deck at night, sometimes.

Who knows what he’s thinking. Nya knows her little brother would rather sort through his feelings behind curtains, and they’re all working on helping him open up, but sometimes there’s nothing to do but be there with someone while they watch the world turn.

Tonight, thoughts zipping through her head with manic intensity and no distraction to stop them, she joins him, letting her legs hang over the edge of the Bounty. He acknowledges her with a smile and inches closer, then turns back to face the clouds, eyes searching the scene like there’s a cosmic answer somewhere in the moonlight poking through the blanket of grey. The sky roils in dark, angry sheets, air thick enough to slice with a knife. Nya remembers another storm out at churning sea, splinters from a shipwreck, a missing friend and her bubbling fury in the aftermath, and shudders.

Lloyd doesn’t speak, but he’s gripping a photo of his father with white knuckles and a pinched face. And she understands.

Never once has Lloyd gotten to choose his path. His only crime was wanting Garmadon in his life, and the gift he received in return for it was becoming fated to finish his father off, once, then twice. It’s a painful game, to be destiny’s plaything.

Self-centered as it is, Nya wants to think she gets it. Rarely does she get to choose, either. Being folded into the fate of Ninjago via kidnapping from blacksmith shop had been exciting until she was relegated to damsel in distress and left on the wayside. Then when she’d forged her own path as Samurai X, she had to give it up and be the water ninja instead. Water ninja. Kai’s sister. Jay’s love interest. The girl. Nadakhan’s prize.

Never a thought for what Nya wants to be. Just roles and labels to live up to whether she likes it or not, forced upon her like a wedding dress sewn for someone else.

And the one choice she could make ended up …

Her chest tightens until she’s dizzy.

Once the world sharpens back into focus, Nya casts Lloyd a sympathetic glance and quietly traces the feathery outlines of the clouds with her eyes. It’s a good night for commiserating, and she’s not feeling talkative, either.

She wonders what she is now, and her throat tightens.

~~~~

Nya catches, out of the corner of her eye, the breathless headline on the tabloid lining the rack at the grocery store—“DEVASTATING FACTS ABOUT THE GIRL NINJA!!” —and bites back the urge to scream herself hoarse.

The public eye is an unforgiving one, she knows that, she’s long since resigned herself to it. But sometimes it grates, the way everyone seems to presume they can weigh in on Nya.

The people out there don’t know anything about her.  All they care about is that she’s the girl, and there’s drama behind her they can gobble up like starved mutts.

She doesn’t let on about it much, because being imperfect is kind of one of her worst nightmares, but she knows she’s made mistakes in the past. She was prideful, even haughty. She strung Jay and Cole along for way too long because the attention got to her head, and the paparazzi will never let her forget it. Nya should have been the bigger person and cut it short, instead of letting Cole keep going with it because he was mad Jay didn’t trust him, or letting Jay’s jealousy fester as long as it did. Bit late for that, though.

It’s hardly like her faults stop there. Being hunted by Nadakhan and upset by Jay’s refusal to understand her “no” meant no, on top of the fact that her independence would only ever be conditional sinking in from becoming the water ninja … it was a perfect storm of stress, and it made her nasty. Jay keeping secrets and endangering them all was the last straw. She blew up, lashed out, furious that she couldn’t trust anything to go right.

She still regrets it. The bruises on his skin after his rescue are still imprinted on her eyelids when she wakes up, sometimes.

So she’s not perfect, by a long shot. But …

(Greedy eyes following her every movement, wanting her as she runs. Blinking to find another family member gone. Fighting for her life as the pirates capture her. Being wrestled into someone else’s gown. Pushing desperately against Dilara’s spirit snatching away her autonomy. Venom seeping into her gown, frigid then BURNING, the ability to think slipping—)

Nya loosens the death grip she has on her basket. Takes a deep breath in, then out.

They don’t know anything about her. Tabloids and TV hosts and publicists can gossip all they want about Nya’s mistakes; they’ll never convince her she deserved to die for them.

~~~~

Kai is many things, and stupid is definitely one of them, sometimes. But he isn’t stupid when it comes to how Nya’s doing, and she knows this. If anything, she’s the idiot for thinking she could keep herself under wraps from him for long. Kai must have noticed the tough veneer she’s painted over herself, and how secretive she’s being with them, because Kai knows she doesn’t like to be open about feeling unwell, and Nya knows that it worries him.

Ironically enough, that worry is why she knows she can’t ever tell Kai what happened. Ever since she revealed herself as Samurai X, he’d learned not to hover, and Nya’s endlessly grateful that he’s understanding enough to trust in her strength. Nowadays, Kai’s concern manifests in significant glances, questioning hands on her shoulder, hugs a little tighter and lingering longer than normal, discreetly asking if there’s anything she wants to tell him.

He’s taken to all that behavior in hyperdrive, of course, because there is no way Nya’s snippiness and constant tension and nights in the kitchen making tea after nightmares slipped his notice.

But that’s fine. Nya would rather deal with the quiet apprehension radiating off him now than the full-blown panic she’s bound to have on her hands if Kai ever found out that she’d lost her life and he’d been helpless to do anything but watch.

She has an idea what it’ll look like, too. He’d taken Lloyd’s possession hard enough—Nya had caught him pummeling punching bags in the training room until his knuckles bled, noticed the heaviness in his eyes when he looked at their little brother, or at Cole, and no matter how much she insisted that he hadn’t failed, Kai refused to let himself believe it. Uttering a word about the Sky Pirates to her older brother, Kai who had practically raised them both, Kai who had only ever become a ninja to save her, Kai who had blamed himself so ruthlessly for Zane and Lloyd and Cole?

It would break him.

She just can’t do that to him. She’ll stitch her lips shut if that’s what it takes to make sure he never finds out.

So when Kai fixes them both mugs of chamomile tea at 2 in the morning, and casually remarks on the strange amount of repairs she’s been doing on the perfectly intact Bounty, Nya just smiles tiredly at him and fires off some sarcastic retort that’s sure to rile him up.

She loves her older brother, which is why she made the decision to take this secret to her grave.

~~~~

Nya notices while brushing her hair, one day, that she’s neglected to pay attention to it; the sleek black strands are almost to her shoulder, rather than brushing against her chin like she’s used to. Once she’s teased out every last snarl, she goes to cut her hair, but hesitates right before the scissors snip.

When she looks in the mirror, sometimes it’s Dilara’s face flashing before her eyes, not her own. She has to look for the minutiae, the details that count, like the flinty sharpness in her own eyes, the scar near her chin, the odd mark forming on her cheek, obsessively contrasting them to wide, sweet eyes on a deceptively cherubic face.

Nya wishes—no, not wishes, look where wishing had gotten them all—that Nadakhan had cared to see the differences. Maybe that way, she wouldn’t have felt the eyes on her back, always following her, waiting for her to fall into his grasp. Maybe she could have avoided the desperate game of cat-and-mouse. And just maybe, she wouldn’t have been grappled into a suffocating gown, or had her agency ripped from her as Dilara took her face, or died—

Right, that had happened. How Cole and Zane go about their days knowing they’ve walked through the doors of death, she can't begin to fathom. Nya wonders when she’ll stop feeling like she has to hide in her own home from eyes that are no longer watching, wonders when she’ll stop feeling the white-hot burn of venom leaching into her blood, and it’s Dilara’s face that brought it upon her.

Nya sets the scissors down, and tries not to flinch at the way they klink against the counter. She doesn’t want Dilara’s face anymore.

Maybe she’ll let it grow out.

~~~~~

It wasn’t even that rough of a touch, Nya despairs later. Cole, even in spars, always knew his strength, and he barely glanced her sternum with a ghostly hand as she knocked him off balance.

Apparently, on a bad day, that chilly touch was enough to send the phantom shock of Tiger Widow venom racing through her system; Nya forgot how to breathe for a second, and the next she broke her stance and pushed. Already off-kilter, Cole stumbled, his back hitting the ground with a heavy thud. In the instant before the others could be alarmed, they locked eyes, concerned meeting terrified. She forced her voice to stay even as she said, “I think that’s enough training for today.” Then she ran.

Now, here she is, her door slammed shut and locked, and her back’s pressed against it as she tries to remember what it feels like not to buzz like an entire hornet’s nest. She’s fine, she repeats to herself. The mantra is soothing simply in its repetitiveness; it gets her mind off of the sensation that won’t leave her alone ever since she lived it. She’s fine, she’s alive, and she’s not losing her grip on consciousness because all her organs are shutting down. Nya is fine, not actually feeling the venom seep into her skin through the coarse fabric of the wedding dress, cold for just a millisecond before erupting into white-hot pain across her skin. If her vision is off, it’s because of the tears welling up despite her stubborn efforts to blink them away, not the spots that danced across her world as Flintlocke’s fatal accident slowly claimed her life-

Her breath catches in a sob. Nya furiously muffles it behind her hand.

It didn’t even happen. She’s been through so much, she’s been in danger so many times, and this is the one that sticks? So it killed her, yeah, admittedly that’s a big step above the other times, but it hadn’t happened to anyone else except her, and Jay, and she can’t, won’t, make those words leave her lips. Every other problem in her life, she’d risen above, she’d fixed and wrestled back into her control, and then she’d gotten to square her shoulders and quip to the boys how easy it had been.

How does she fix something that’s only broken in her memories?

~~~~~

Nya remembers it all.

She almost wishes she didn’t.

#ninjago #nnq zine #nya ninjago #nya smith #n1njag0 #happy tenth anniversary ninjago #abc writes

[cosmic-has-moved]

Long Lost Kin - Chapter 4 - Teen Years

Link to Ao3 version: [HERE]

It had been a while since Dion was exposed to the truth, his reaction being better than Alcina had expected and she planned on telling Mother Miranda about it to avoid more drama.

 She gave him the space he wanted and did tell the girls to do the same, but she has seen them sneak in and out of his room most nights, their expressions always the same, worry.

 He would still come to dinner, but he would distant himself and avoid social interaction.

 One night she decided to catch one of them and ask them how he was doing, the next one to visit him being Daniela. She stopped her daughter after she walked out and asked her how Dion was doing, she was honest and said that he seems distant compared to how he was a month ago.

 “A month ago?” Her mother questioned, that was way before the talk.

 Daniela looked at her almost hesitant to answer but still did, “One night I snuck into his room to see Voe. I saw him curled under the sheet, it sounded like he was crying but wanted to be quiet about it.” She rubbed the back of her neck and looked away. “I didn’t want to scare him, so I left.”

 The sudden revelation she got made her feel a deep sense of guilt. Of course he’s still mourning, how could she be so stupid to think he was over it. And even worse she unknowingly gave him more unneeded baggage, this needed to be fixed.

 She thanked her daughter for the information and made her way to her bedroom.

 Collecting what she needed from her room and walking back out, holding a pillow and thick blanket. Alcina didn’t even knock on Dion’s door as she walked in and closed the door, she walked over the side of his bed where he rested and laid down on the floor with her bedding. Her head resting on her fluffy pillow on the carpeted ground while her blanket covered her body, she didn’t even bother changing to her sleepwear.

 The Mistress laid there for what felt like hours before Dion made a move, sliding his hand out from under the sheet and letting it dangle near Alcina’s. Slowly she lifted her hand up and held his, she never too into account how tiny and rough his hands were.

 “Get on up here, carpet isn’t comfy.” He said tugging on her hand. “It may be awkward, but I know you won’t leave even if I ask.”

 The woman smiled softly before getting up and getting on the other side of the bed, keeping a fair distance between the two, if you count a couple of centimeters as a fair distance.

 …

 It was very awkward and Alcina’s feet dangling off the end of the bed didn’t help.

 “I’m not mad at you or anyone.” Dion said quietly, making Alcina sigh internally in relief. “It’s just taking my brain some time to fully wrap around the info dump you gave me.” He rolled over on his back and looked up at the ceiling before sighing heavily.

 Miss Dimitrescu nodded at him and crossed her arms. “Would talking help break the tension? I can tell you about neat little information about us, like our powers, weaknesses, anything I know.”

 He stayed quiet for a few minutes before finally responding, agreeing to the offer. So she did, she told him about the abilities given to her and the others by the cadou, but also the weaknesses from it. During the conversation, Alcina noticed that Dion looked at her in great interest.

 “Wait.” He butted in, “If this cadou can do these things, why hasn’t Mother Miranda shared it to scientist? That kind of thing could be great with helping people in need.” He asked almost in an angry tone.

 “She’s.” The Mistress sighed, “It’s complicated, but I am sure she has her reasons.”

 Dion just squinted his eyes at her before shaking his head and rests his arm over his eyes. “Christ, this is something right out of a fictional book.” He said before quietly chuckling followed with Alcina chuckling along.

 Patting his head while smiling, she jokingly said “Sometimes fact seems more fiction than it should, it’s almost funny the more you think about it.”

 The teen groaned “Please at least tell me you can breathe fire?”

 That question caused Alcina to cackle before answering, “Sadly no.” She laughed more as he groaned loudly in disappointment.

 “Now let me explain my daughters.” She added, Dion looking at her in disbelief before slowly frowning upon a small realization and laying his head back down.

 Alcina than went on to explain how she got her daughters and the cadou process for them, going into great detail on how their abilities work and what harms them. Dion’s posture changing to a more comfortable one while listening, his expression changing from that of interest to suspicion.

 “And that’s practically it. Other than being able to change what species of bugs they can turn into, that’s it.” She explained before looking back at Dion, frowning at his expression.

 “Your daughters have been using my likeness for bugs to get extra lovely treatment.” Was all he muttered before his Aunt burst out into cackling laughter at his revelation.

 “They have their ways of getting more cozy treatment.” Alcina explained while wiping a tear from her eye. “Besides that, how are you feeling?”

 Dion looked up at the ceiling with a neutral face. “If I have to be honest, a bit better after you talked more about it. Still iffy on Mother Miranda, but if you trust her, than I guess so can I.”

 Satisfied with the answer, she looked up at the ceiling. “Well I’m glad, Dion. I don’t want you to feel unsafe here.”

 “Well with you and your bug encyclopedia daughters, I’m pretty safe.” He said laughing with his Aunt joining along.

 The Mistress left his room and was glad to see her little cousin less tense than before, now all she had to do was make sure he fully mourns.

 ___

 After that night and the morning came around, the tension around the air had lifted a bit and the casual chats with Dion returned.

 The girls weren’t too happy about being outed by their mother about their little trick with Dion, but he mentioned that he didn’t mind it. He still played with them in their bugs forms and even took them out on food trips during the very cold days, they only had to stay snuggled up in his flannel jacket.

 He even found out that they can safely separate their limbs when returning to their human form, granted he learnt the hard way when he saw a lone hand gripping onto his hoodie. The daughters of course got scolded for doing that to him, even if they didn’t mean to scare him.

 Among other things after that, Dion had decided that he’ll spend some time with the other lords when he can, mostly spending more with Miss Beneviento, The Mistress did wonder if it was because they had a lot in common or if her cousin secretly had a crush. Well at least if they enjoyed each others company, everything was alright.

 As for Mother Miranda, Alcina had informed her via phone about the situation and the Priestess almost sounded disappointed, but still thanked Miss Dimitrescu for the information before ending the call. Well at least she didn’t have to worry about Dion getting taken by her now.

 But one of the best things to have happened, happened recently.

 While Alcina held little Voe as Dion cleaned her tank, the snake began nibbling on the Mistress’s thumb. She asked Dion about it and he informed her that that is how she tells someone she deeply trust them, Alcina was too prideful to admit that she was ecstatically happy to know that.

 Even the daughters got the nibble treatment from the snake, Daniela being loudly proud about the achievement.

 ___

 Crouching down to enter the young boy’s room, the Mistress entered and saw Dion furiously putting clothes in a suitcase. This worried her instantly.

 “What are you packing for?” She asked as he grabbed his axe and shoved it in the bag.

 “My father’s workers called me over back to Russia over company ownership, because the new owner that my father had look after the place, had died from alcohol poisoning.” Zipping up his bag, Dion opened up his desk drawer and rifled through it. “They need me over there to confirm who the new owner is by me signing some papers.”

 This caused the woman to frown, surely that should’ve been done over phone. But other than that, this worried her even more. “So you have to go back to Russia?” She asked softly with sadness in her voice, hoping he wasn’t staying there.

 “Only until everything is sorted out.” He said before getting out his passport and stuffing it in his bag. “I’m terribly sorry for the sudden leave, I just found this out this morning and they wanted me there yesterday.”

 She grabbed his shoulder “When will you be back?”

 “Hopefully in two days or less, it depends because of how tight the security is over there.” He answered before grabbing his packed things and walking over to Voe’s tank. “Voe’s feeding is tomorrow, so can one of you feed her.”

 He patted his pet a few times before closing the tank and walking back over to his Aunt. “Of course, I already know where you keep her food.” Alcina said before watching him leave his room, her closely following him. “Will you be alright, flying on your own?”

 They both walked down stairs, Dion reassuring her and also reminding her that it wasn’t his first flight alone. Miss Dimitrescu still felt concerned, but knew he would be alright.

 After wishing him luck and farewell, she watched him leave the castle.

 He’ll be fine on his own.

 ___

 It’s only been nine hours since Dion left, he had called her an hour earlier to tell her that he had landed, she was glad that he had thought to call her.

 Alcina sat at her office peacefully doing her work, only stopping to take a sip of her wine. But a knock at the door had caused her to stop and call in the knocker, it was Cassandra.

 The second eldest child walked in with an annoyed expression on her face, this wasn’t good at all.

 “Mother, have you seen Daniela?” She asked before crossing her arms and moved her hip to one side. “It’s her turn to pick a movie and we can’t find her anywhere.”

 Frowning, her mother spoke. “Not even in Voe’s tank? Or even in the upper part of the castle attic?” She asked, Cassandra shaking her head. “She better not be outside again.” She said before her office phone started to ring, her picking it up to see who would be calling.

 “Hello?”

 “Hi.” To Alcina’s surprise, it was Dion. But he sounded exhausted.

 “Dion, is everything alright? How did the signing go?”

 “I just arrived at a hotel… With company.”

 “Heeeeeeeeyy.” Said an awfully familiar voice, that that only belonged to a certain red haired lady.

 Sweet fucking Jesus, Daniela snuck in to join Dion’s trip.

 Without even getting more air in her lung, Mistress Dimitrescu shouted.

 “DAAAAAAANNIEEEEEELLLLLAAAAAAAA!”

 It took a while as Alcina scolded her younger child over the phone, Cassandra and possibly Dion trying their best to hold in their laughter.

 “And when you get back home, you are grounded and will be cleaning the bathrooms!” She yelled as she slammed her hand on the table, interrupting Daniela’s stuttering. “And no buts! You know how dangerous it is for you to do that and you still did it!”

 Beep!

 Looking at her phone is disbelief, Alcina could barely get out a proper sentence before finally getting one out.

 “SHE HUNG UP ON ME?!”

 The phone rang again and she immediately answered, hearing Dion at the other end with Daniela apologizing in the background.

 “Daniela panicked and hung up.”

 Letting out a long sigh and exhaling deeply, Alcina spoke calmly. “Will you be alright with her while you’re there? I honestly wouldn’t blame you if you put her in a jar and sending her over here.”

 “Everything will be fine, she’s already made herself home.” There was a loud crash and Dion sighed. “She found the food menu…”

 “Can I get some ribs?!” Daniela asked excitedly in the back. “I have no idea what any of this says and I only recognize the word steak and kill!”

 Another sigh came from the poor teen, Alcina felt his pain. “Do you have anything that’ll… Sedate her?”

 “Purchase sleeping pills and sneak them in her food or drinks. If that doesn’t work, a TV mostly definitely will.” She quickly answered.

 “Thank you, Aunty. I’ll see you soon.” He said before hanging up.

 “So.” Cassandra spoke as her mother lowered the phone receiver. “We’re free of Daniela for a few days?” She said with a smirk as Alcina glared at her.

 “Only until Dion gets back, and you better not do anything to her stuff.” She crossed her arms. “I barely heard the end of it a while ago when you and Bela went through her room.”

 After letting out a long groan, the brunette nodded before leaving the room.

 Having sometime to collect herself, Miss Dimitrescu went back to work and prayed for Dion, he would need it when it comes to Daniela.

 ___

 Just as Dion left for the business trip, he was back two days later before they knew it. Granted he was carrying a rugged up Daniela on his back and seemed exhausted, but overall he was in one piece. He even brought a bag of gifts for them, most of them were candy but they still loved it.

 After prying the girl off of his back and leaving her on her bed, Dion explained how everything was sorted and other events that happened while they were there. They even stopped by the markets after the flight before heading home.

 While Daniela was well behaved and stayed clear of extremely cold weathers, she did have moments where she nearly got them kicked out and even nearly ate one of the hotel workers. She also loved to eat blue rare steak and nougat chocolate, so there was that.

 “So she just stayed in the room while you were gone?” Alcina asked while walking with him to his room, already dreading the damage her daughter had done.

 “Not really.” He answered as he placed his luggage on his bed. “She wanted to see around the city and I didn’t want to risk her harming someone, so I brought her some thick winter clothes and walked her around.” He chuckled. “I did take her to an old arcade I knew and we had a blast, she’s weirdly good at ball throw games.”

 Sighing in relief after hearing that her daughter hadn’t done anything too bad, the Mistress sat on his bed as he put his things away. “Well I’m glad you two are alright, even if her company was unexpected.”

 Dion laughed as he got Voe out of her tank and cuddled her, “I wouldn’t have caught her if

she hadn’t tried to use the shower.” He sat next to his Aunt and let his pet rest around his shoulders. “Do your daughters do that often?”

 “Too often.” Alcina answered with a groan. “But it can have it’s perks, especially when lycans are out during their hunt.”

 The young boy nodded and looked at Voe. “I’ve never seen a lycan before, what do they look like?”

 A smirk formed on the woman’s face, “Well they’re usually more sighted in the forest between Miss Beneviento and Heisenberg’s home, only ever come out when necessary.” She crossed her legs and tilted her head. “how about we go visit them tomorrow? They know not to go near me.”

 Dion’s face lit up and he smiled. “If that’s okay with you, than let’s go see some lycans.”

 Happy with the answer, Alcina nodded and made a mental note of tomorrows plans.

 ___

 Just as promised, the Mistress took Dion out late at night the next day. She made sure that he was prepped with his rifle, just in case the beast tried to do something they shouldn’t.

 She had to be honest, she was worried for his safety. But with his promising hunting skills, he may be alright.

 The walk over to their hunting grounds was quiet and peaceful, only ever hearing the sounds of distant running, that was a sign of their presence.

 She halted and held her arm out in front of Dion to stop him, the faint sound of growling now clear and closer. They’re here.

 “I mean no harm, just came to show you off to someone.” The Mistress said loudly, eyeing the glowing eyes between the trees. “You know the rules.”

 The teenager shuffled back a bit, readying himself as a few of the lycans crawled out from behind the trees. Alcina could sense the fear emanating from him, she couldn’t really blame him for that.

 The furry beast snarled at the Countess and circled the two, they were hesitant to attack but still wanted to seem fearless. They were familiar with the tall lady, but not the teen, they wanted to get a closer look.

 As soon as one got too close for comfort, Alcina got her claws out and glared a golden stare that caused them to back away.

 Dion tilted his head and frowned after getting a good look at them, all fear vanishing from him. “They’re less scary in person.” He said, breaking the suspension and making Alcina chuckle as a few lycans whined.

 “The darkness makes them more scary.” She added as her claws retracted and a smirk grew on her face, to the animals dismay.

 Crossing his arms and squinting his eyes, he moved his head back up. “They’re cool, yes. But look more like house puppies. He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I’m just a snake person.”

 The lycans just stared at Dion before all huffing and going back, the motion causing the two brunettes to burst into laughter. Dion doing his best to say his apology to the wolves, even if they waved him off.

 “Well.” Alcina wiped a tear from her eye. “That turned out better than expected, even if we did just insult them.”

 “I honestly expected them to look like a fluffy version of a raptor, but I just got classic werewolves.” He said after calming himself from the laughing fit. “Do they turn others with a bite or scratch or?” He looked at her questioning.

 She shook her head, “No, they usually turn others by either giving blood or Mother Miranda helping them turn someone through.” She averted her gaze and cleared her throat. “Other methods.”

 It didn’t take long for the teen to realize what she meant, he squinted his eyes and looked at her in utter disgust. “Really? Like that?”

 She nodded. “Yes.”

 Rubbing his face and groaning, Dion sighed. “Well at least the blood transfer makes sense.”

 The Mistress chuckled and patted his back, “Well now you you.” She turned and walked with him. “Now lets head back home, we’re having dinner soon.” She smiled warmly as he excitedly followed her.

 Several minutes had gone by and the two got to the forest near the castle, Dion spoke up to break the silence. “Earlier, your nails.” The two of them looked at each other. “Is that one of your abilities? I’ve never seen it until now.”

 Smiling and lifting her hand up a but, Alcina smirked as her claw came out. “These? They are part of the mutation, it’s quite nifty to had.” She retracted them and rubbed her palm. “Though I did have trouble controlling them when I first got them, but Miss Beneviento helped me with that.” She said while moving her gaze away from him, almost embarrassed. But Dion chose not to probe as for why.

 “Well that was nice of her to do. Are you two close?” He asked, curious of their relationship.

 Going back to her normal expression, she cupped her chin in thought. “Well she is someone I do respect and she is comfortable enough with me to show her face to me, so I guess we are pretty close.” She lowered her arms and looked at him. “We’re both women of high standards and when you’re surrounded by ruffians like Heisenberg, we try our best to support each other.”

 Dion laughed followed with his Aunt laughing along. But their laughter was cut short as the teen stopped and grabbed his rifle, even Alcina could feel an unwanted presence near them and it sure as hell wasn’t the lycans.

 Getting her claws out and glancing around, she yelled out. “Show yourself!”

 Only silence responded to her.

 Until an arrow came flying out from one of the tree branches and nearly hitting Dion’s foot, before Dion himself back away and swiftly aiming his gun where the shot came from. He didn’t even hesitate as he shot the tree branch and watched as the shooter fell from the tree and hit the ground with a thud and groan, glancing at Alcina as clawed at the incoming bullets.

 “These damn hunters!” She growled as a group of hunters came out and began shooting more ammo at her. Moving in front of Dion to shield him, did they not care that a child was with her?

 “You all just refuse to listen, don’t you?!” She snarled at them, pissed off that these hunters still have yet to learn that they can’t stand a chance against her. “And you dare try to bring harm to a child!?”

 An older guy, most likely their leader, ordered the others to keep shooting as he got out a hunters knife and poured some sort of liquid on it. The smell of it confirmed that it was poison.

 After giving the signal to his men to stop shooting, he bolted to the Countess with a battle cry.

 Preparing herself to swipe, she was shocked to see Dion pull her back behind him and swiftly shoot the elder man above the throat, blood splattering in the cold air. The other hunters immediately running after hearing the bang, but Alcina’s claw put a stop to them quickly.

 After killing the men and cursing herself for letting one escape, she went to check up on Dion. The old man had collapsed on top of the teen and she kicked him of her cousin, her eyes widening upon seeing the blade diagonally deep into Dion’s stomach.

 He groaned in pain and used his elbows to sit up, completely unaware of the wound. “The hell was that?” He asked before shaking his head and looking over at the body, his face going pale upon seeing what he had done. “Did I…”

 He yelped in pain as Alcina picked him up in her arms and ran, only than did he see the blade handle sticking out of his stomach. He still had yet to process that he had killed someone, now he had to process this!

 Through ragged breathing, Alcina stammered out reassurance and making sure he didn’t lose any dangerous amounts of blood. “I know what kind of poison the blade had and already have antidotes for it!” She said as she ran close to the castle and kicked the door wide open.

 The colour from Dion’s face was slowly vanishing as he seemed to get weaker and weaker, even coughing up blood. He didn’t even react when the maidens were quick to assist his wounds and rest him on an infirmary bed.

 His Aunts shouts were getting more muffled as the anesthesia that was given to him slowly knocked him out.

 Miss Dimitrescu paced back and forth as the servants worked on Dion’s wound. Only snapping out of it when her daughters swarmed over to their mother, in great worry at the sight of Dion’s blood on her dress. She didn’t even notice the blood.

 The three demanded to know what had happened, in which their mother hesitantly told them of the attack from the hunters. The girls were quick to be furious, but they couldn’t do anything that wasn’t already done.

 All the four could do was wait.

 ___

 It felt like hours since Dion was put into the infirmary, but one of the maidens had walked out and informed the Mistress about the young man’s condition.

 The medicine they gave him had worked flawlessly, but he would most likely get a nasty scar. All that mattered though was that he was okay, he was alive.

 The girls didn’t hesitate to barge into the room to check up on him, Alcina following behind them.

 There on the bed laid Dion, he was still unconscious but his breathing was normal. The girls nearly laid on him but their mother was quick to stop that, mentioning that he had a stomach wound. They were sad but understanding.

 Alcina looked over at the container that held the weapon and gritted her teeth, the poison they had used to coat it was similar to the death flower daggers’. It seems they’re getting closer to figuring out what kills her, and it nearly costed a childs’ life.

 Though that did bring a thought into her mind. Since they’re blood related, would he possibly have the disease?

 The idea shook her, she knew the symptoms and how painful they were. He shouldn’t go through something like that, he may have high pain tolerance but it’ll still hurt.

 “Mother!”

 Bela’s voice brought her back to reality and she looked over at her daughter, Dion was stirring awake already.

 His eyes squinted open but closed again as he groaned, going to sit up.

 “Oh no you don’t.” Alcina said as she gently laid him down. “You are way too early to be awake, little one.” She ignored his muffled protest and tucked him in.

 “You sir, are injured and was poisoned.” She sat down on a chair next to his bed as he huffed. “All you need to do is rest.”

 “Mother’s right.” Daniela said with sad expression. “You could’ve died.” She rested her head on his knees.

 “I really don’t” He managed to get out through sloughed words before passing out again, that didn’t take much for him to go back to sleep.

 Letting out a sigh and laying back in her seat, the Mistress dismissed her daughters off to their rooms and to let Dion rest. Watching as they begrudgingly obeyed their mother, Alcina remained in her position, keeping an eye on Dion as her slept peacefully. It’s not as if she needed any sleep, she didn’t mind.

 ___

 As the light of the new morning light seeped in through the windows of the castle, the maiden workers of the castle began doing their duties.

 Mistress Dimitrescu rested on the same chair next to where Dion was resting, her arms crossed and her head tilted on her shoulder, her hat long fallen off of her head.

 It wasn’t until a maiden came in to give mister Baros fresh bandages that she woke, slightly ashamed that she fell asleep so easily as she put her hat back on.

 She let the servant do her job of patching her cousin up and giving him his medication, Alcina got a good look at the wound and noticed no eye catching changes to it.

 The maid left after finishing with Dion’s wounds and medicine, leaving Alcina alone with the boy. He looked so peaceful when sleeping, she couldn’t help but smile when looking at him.

 She had thought of staying there for a while more, but needed to do a few things, one of them including changing her clothes. So she got up of her chair and gently stroked Dion’s hair before leaving the room.

 Lady Dimitrescu had informed her daughters on Dion’s condition first, both of them happy to know that he’s doing alright, before she went into her room to change clothing and to her office to begin her work.

 While scribbling onto many pieces of paper, her dial phone suddenly rang. Stopping her work and picking up the receiver, she answered.

 The caller was Miss Beneviento, or really just Angie talking for her. The doll had asked about Dion since he hadn’t answered Donna’s phone call and was worried, Alcina was honest since she saw no reason to lie.

 The doll repeated what the Mistress to the dollmaker, Angie making sure to add the fact that he was poisoned. Alcina mentally sighing at the doll knowing full well that’ll worry the poor woman.

 “That’s all!” The doll squeaked out before hanging up. Well at least the call was short, she could now go back to her paper work.

 “Mother!”

 Never mind.

 The Mistress stopped what she was doing and watched her eldest daughter walk into her office, a happy expression on her face and a photo album?

 “Mother, look what I found in Dion’s belongings!” Bela exclaimed as she swarmed to her mother and opened the book next to her. “It’s photos of Dion when he was little.”

 Oh work can surely wait.

 “Give it here.” Alcina said as she eagerly took the book from her child and went through it.

 A lot of the photos seemed to have been taken by the uncle, only three of them by his parents. The ones with his uncle showed how happy and full of life Dion was, even if his little baby hands was hugging a live alligator head.

 But the only thing that caught her eyes was how cute baby Dion was, he was such a chubby baby with thick locks of hair and adorable beady-eyes. Those were definitely being kept on her desk.

 “I even found an unopened letter with his name on it.” Cassandra mentioned as she placed said letter in front of her mother. “It’s even seal with a fancy wax stamp.”

 Picking up the envelope and examining it, the seal design gave the Mistress chills. It was the Dimitrescu old family crest, a dragon holding a shield with two swords crossed behind it.

 The design of the crest was changed to the current one due to her mother changing it after father left with it’s rights to it, and Mother Miranda having control of the designs. Now that she thought about it, her scumbag of a father most likely passed down the original crest to the other family, that was the only reasonable outcome.

 Glancing away at the symbol she read the small letters below it, it read:

 “To my little cub, Dion.

 Open this letter once you feel you are ready to.

 Sincerely, Your Uncle Gios.”

 Alcina slowly placed the letter down, thinking of opening the letter, but chose not to for reasons that it’s only for Dion and Dion only to open.

 “Thank you, Cassandra. But please don’t go through his stuff again.” Alcina said before closing the photo album, her daughter huffing in annoyance before nodding her head and leave the room.

 As she left, the Mistress looked at the envelope again. A smirk on her face.

 “Little cub?��� She mumbled before letting out a small chuckle. “How cute. Might nickname him that for now on.”

 ___

 Finishing her work for the day and stretching her body, Lady Dimitrescu walked out of her office to go check up on Dion.

 As she arrived at the infirmary she was surprised to see that he already had company with him, Donna Beneviento being said company.

 The woman sat next to the now conscious boy, who was eagerly eating a plate of food with meat, creamy soup and bread rolls.

 Donna looked over at the Mistress and waved at her, before getting up off the chair and

walking over to her.

 “I wasn’t made aware of your visit, Miss Beneviento.” Alcina said while crossing her arms. “You must’ve been worried about him.”

 Donna lowered her head a bit before moving her hands to sign. “I enjoy his company and he’s a wonderful person, so I wanted to visit him to see how he was holding up.” She looked over at the teenager and continued. “He seems to be doing alright.”

 Alcina chuckled, “I understand your worry, Donna. But the nurse said he’ll be fine, only getting a scar out of it.” She said before walking over to him and sitting down on the chair. “He just needs to rest here until his wound is healed.”

 Dion frowned at his Aunt as he swallowed his food, “I’m right here and awake, ya know.” The two women laughed softly as he drank his cup of milk. “And I’m feeling fine to walk around.”

 That instantly stopped Alcina’s laugh and caused her to glare at him, “Oh no you aren't, you’re going to have to go easy as to make sure your organs don’t spill out.” She brushed off Dion’s annoyed protest. “And I will strap you down to this bed if I have to.”

 Letting out a huff and continuing eating, Dion spoke up. “Okay fine, I’ll stay. But don’t expect me to have fun.”

 Donna Sat on the side of the bed and placed her hands on her lap, speaking softly to him. The Mistress noticing a slight blush on the teens’ face. “Don’t worry, the faster you can heal, the quicker you can get out of here.” She said, Dion smiling and nodding at her.

 Alcina blinked in quiet shock at Donna’s sudden voice, she’s heard her speak a few times but never in front of more than one person. She honestly felt happy that Lady Beneviento was comfortable around Dion to freely speak to him.

 Watching him finish his food and licking the plate clean, Miss Dimitrescu spoke. “I would’ve given you dinner last night, but the blade had cut your stomach and it needed to heal a bit first.” She tilted her head. “And judging by the fact that you’re not in pain, it appears that the nurse did a fantastic job.”

 Dion gave her a thumbs up while gulping down his drink, before placing the cup down and licking his lips. “My body healing process is fast, so my stomach will be a-okay.” He said getting a laugh out of his Aunt.

 “Whatever you say, little one.” She ruffled up his hair. “Now rest up, I’ll get one of the maidens to take care of you. If you need something, just ask them and they’ll get it for you.”

 He nodded and watched as she grabbed his plate before leaving the room with Donna, who wish him well.

 As they left the room, Alcina thought it would be relaxing to start a conversation with the small woman.

 “I’ve noticed how close you two have gotten, it’s good to see that.”

 Donna lowered her head and softly spoke while signing. “Like I said, he’s good company and we have similar taste”

 Alcina smirked, “I think he has a little teenage crush on you.” She held in her giggle as Donna stopped in her tracks and looked up at the tall woman, even with her veil Alcina could still see the panicked shocked expression.

 “Oh no, that won’t do. I don’t want to break his heart for refusing.” She stuttered out, causing Alcina to no longer hold in the giggle. “I’m an adult and he’s a child, that will surely not be right.”

 “Calm down, Miss Beneviento.” The Mistress patted Donna’s back. “It’s just a teenage crush, he’ll get over it when he’s older.”

 “Still.” The dollmaker lowered her head. “I never took crushes into account. I hope he’ll understand when I have to refuse him.”

 Rolling her eyes and crossing her arms, Alcina smirked again. “Just say you’re with me, I’ll even back you up.” A sudden hit from the short woman made Miss Dimitrescu snicker. “Oh come on, like you haven’t forgotten the time you helped me with my.” She moved the veil away from Donna’s face and pressed her thumbs against her lips. “Claws.”

 All Donna could do was stare at the tall lady flustered, before moving her hand away and walking off. “That was years ago, my feelings long gone and changed.” She stopped and looked back at the Countess. “It was fun, but you know why we couldn’t stay like that.” She turned her head back. “I don’t want to be hurt again.”

 Alcina looked at her with a saddened expression, “Times have changed, Donna. Don’t be afraid.” Was what she could say to Lady Beneviento before she left.

 The Lady sighed to herself and rubbed the bridge of her nose, “I forgot about her past relationships…” She shook her head after mentally kicking herself and walked off. Making sure to get a maiden to keep an eye on Dion.

#Cosmic FanFic #fanfiction #fanfic #Long Lost Kin Story #Long Lost Kin #Dion Baros #alcina dimitrescu #Donna Beneviento #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #re village #re village fanfic #resident evil #resident evil fanfic #resident evil village #OC

[sanktnikolais]

Weather The Storm

A/N: Second piece from the three-year gap series (my house of stone, your ivy grows) of the trilogy and King of Scars lashkljhas another argument bc they have the trope of reluctant allies to lovers pining idiots and I want to explore that more ohoho

have this mess

Word count: 1996

Zoya's boots crunched in the snow as she tore through the crowd of bustling soldiers in the camp. She ignored the curious stares she got from the First Army men, her mind focused on one thing that was driving her feet faster. 

          The King is an utter fool. 

          She grit her teeth as another wave of annoyance hit her, threatening to make her lash out at anyone around. If it weren't for the hushed chatter of a few Grisha from the other side of camp, she wouldn't have known that he was here. 

          Didn't you hear? The King came along with the First Army to lead the attack in the left flank. 

          We would have lost the bigger part of the boundary if it weren’t for their surprise attack. 

          He wouldn't have been recognized if his disguise hadn't faded. 

          It was actually a good cover, but I would have recognized the redheads among our men. 

          Her jaw twitched, the wind picking up around her. She breathed deeply and calmed her powers. But the coldness only became worse. Annoyance had already clouded her reason. The wound in her right arm stung, and she was sure it had opened again, but she didn’t bother checking on it. 

          Zoya should have known he would pull off something like this. If she had, she would have chained him up in his chambers and locked him in there. She figured she had underestimated his stubbornness. 

          Ahead, the biggest tent that she recognized as the makeshift infirmary loomed, with people coming in and out restlessly. A small part of her worried that the King could be one of the wounded inside, but her irritation told her there was no way he would be there if he just hadn't come. That idiot. 

          She was almost by the tent flap when a familiar figure emerged from the inside. 

          "Well, isn't it the Commander?" Tamar was smiling brightly as she approached Zoya, completely unaware of her inner turmoil. Behind her, Tolya came out from the tent as well. They were unharmed, at least, and Zoya felt relieved at that. But unlike his sister, Tolya’s face looked grim at the sight of Zoya. 

          She appreciated the tall man's ability to read facial expressions.

          "I still can't believe—" 

          "Where is he?" Zoya cut her off, voice low. 

          Tamar went silent for a moment. Then she sighed, her smile fading. "He insisted," she said, shaking her head. “I would have locked him up if he hadn’t become all too authoritative.”

          “Then you should’ve tried harder!” Zoya’s voice rose. Some of the soldiers stopped to listen, and she fought the urge to berate them about being nosy and to mind their own damned business. “Do you realize the danger you let him walk into?”

          “Woah, Commander.” Tamar straightened, her sharp eyes narrowing as if she had been challenged to a duel. “Just because you go against him doesn’t mean I would too.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Unlike you, I am loyal to the throne. You could—”

          Tamar stopped abruptly, and Zoya’s anger flared. The winds howled atto her will. “Go on. I dare you,” she said. Thunder cracked in the sky despite the snow, making Tamar flinch slightly though she immediately regained composure and set a hand on one of her axes. Zoya knew she would regret this later, so she tried to calm herself down. But something inside her had been ticked, and the rage just overwhelmed everything. “Go on. I could what?” 

          It was then Tolya stepped forward and got in between them, his towering form almost intimidating Zoya. Almost. “Alright, that’s enough, you two,” he said, his deep voice more gentle than she had expected. He looked at her, then turned to his sister. “Let’s not do this now, or ever, if you may. We’ve all had a rough fortnight, and besides, we have a victory to celebrate.”

          A tense silence washed over them, neither of them wanting to back down just yet. But Tolya's words seemed to get to them because their stances slacked, Tamar letting go of her axes and Zoya willed the wind to calm down around them. 

          The people around them were still watching, so she sent a glare to their way that had them scurrying back to whatever it was they were doing. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Not the time to lose control. 

          "Where is he?" she asked again. Her voice was much gentler this time, though it took all she could to make it sound like that. 

          Tolya inclined his head to the side. "There, by the edge of camp near the cliff," he replied. “He went there just now.” 

          Zoya turned to the direction he was pertaining to. True enough, she could make out a small figure through the still falling snow. 

          "Let me guess, he wanted to be alone this time?" she said, tone a bit mocking. The King was out in the open, and he didn't even care about the worst case scenario. "Out there in the open? Good saints." 

          She didn’t let them say anything else as she stomped over her king. The title sounded funny to her, with the way he was acting. He definitely had to live up to his name if he wanted the people to trust him. Or if he wanted her to trust him.

          Lantsov was in a First Army soldier’s uniform, the olive drab looking black against the weather. The golden double eagle on his shoulder indicated an officer’s—a Major—rank, and Zoya was left wondering how he had gotten such a high place in the military despite being young. 

          He was near now, and if he noticed her, he didn’t acknowledge her presence. Zoya was already ready to call him out had he not moved and buried his rifle in the snow in front of him, its stock pointed upwards. She stopped in her tracks. Her eyebrows furrowed as she watched him take off his helmet and put in on the gun, along with a bunch of tags he was holding. There was a long silence, nothing but the sound of the wind could be heard. His head bowed, letting his hand linger on his helmet, and then he was standing straight again, the poise and stance of a well-respected leader.

          She eyed him for another moment, noticing the slump on his shoulders as he clutched at the tags on the helmet, and she was left wondering who owned them. Were they his friends? Mere soldiers he wanted to grieve for? The questions lingered in her mind, but she didn’t voice them out. 

          Another beat passed, and then he trained his eyes forward. “Come to give me an earful, haven’t you, Nazyalensky?” he said, a rueful smile on his lips. If it were some other time, Zoya would have sympathized with him. But now she was just angry. “Worry not, I think I deserve it, anyway.”

          Zoya almost laughed. “I am indeed glad you know your mistake, Your Highness,” she said. She considered her next words, but she couldn’t find a way to make it lighter. “You should not have been here.”

          Lantsov huffed incredulously, as if he were insulted. “And what, my dear Squaller? Sit back pretty on my throne and watch as my men give their life to the country I have sworn to protect?” 

          “As much as I hate to break it to you and your ego,” she said, “it is the only way for you to be able to protect Ravka.” She stepped closer to him to emphasize her point. “You have to live.”

          “I don’t think watching your people do things for you could be called living.”

          “You fool,” Zoya said through gritted teeth. “You’re missing the entire point. You’re the king. If you died in battle, who would have replaced you? Some distant relative who had no care to the throne? A pretender? The Triumvirate?” She shook her head in disbelief. “You’ve chosen us to steer this forsaken country alongside you, so don’t try to make any more reckless decisions that would lead to the nation’s and your own demise.”

          Lantsov became silent, a flash of hurt passing over to his face. It was gone in a blink, and Zoya questioned herself if she had just imagined it. His expression became stoic, the usual one he gave when he was wearing the mask of the monarch again, instead of a boy that had too much on his shoulders.

          “Sometimes I wonder if you knew how it felt like losing people close to you to this country,” he said. His eyes were hard, grief-stricken, and she realized that he had been through wars too, just like her and countless others. “Maybe then you would realize why I am willing to put my life on the line.”

          “We all lost people. And don’t you dare tell me that I do not know how it felt like,” she said. Her aunt’s kind smile flashed before her eyes. She blinked the image away. It wasn’t the right time to grieve, but the pain of losing her rekindled in her chest. “Because I do.” She paused, mustering up her strength to speak. “The only difference is that I don’t let grief consume the logical part of my mind.”

          She expected Lantsov to get angry, or leave, or even remove her from her post. But he just smiled ruefully. “No,” he said. “The only difference is that I am a royal and I am not permitted to die. Even if I wanted to save them, I couldn’t. But you could.”

          Zoya stilled. The words hit like knives to her heart, and suddenly she was fifteen again, crossing the Fold on her own in hopes to see her aunt again. But she never got to her in time. 

          She tried to shove the memories away, but it kept flooding. Her aunt and her niece weren’t just the ones who perished in the war barely a year ago. Sergei, mutilated by the Darkling’s nichevo’ya. Harshaw, struck by a bullet to the chest. Fedyor, thrown from the roof of the Little Palace and down to the waiting monsters. Marie. Paja. And countless others. Friends and companions, lying dead in the pool of blood in the hall they had been staying before the attack happened. 

          She had seen the Second Army on the brink of annihilation. He was aware she had been through the same war, and yet he still asked her if she knew how it felt losing people? 

          Her eyes stung, fists clenched. Her hands twitched at her sides, ready to summon the winds and even lightning to her will if it meant making her point to the king. But she chose not to. It would only make things worse.

          Zoya breathed deeply, letting her anger pass  before she spoke again. She hated this. She hated herself. But above all, she hated him because he was right. 

          She knew to herself she wouldn't have sat back too, waiting until her people made a difference. No, she would be with them and fight alongside them, and try to see the change with her own eyes. 

          But she wasn't the leader of Ravka,  and she never would be. So she would do everything she could to protect its king, even from him himself and his own foolishness. 

          She straightened then, slipping her own stoical mask on her face. “That may have been the difference, Your Highness, but I am not the one who chose your fate. It was you alone, and you would stand up to it.” She started to turn, wanting nothing more than to get away from him. “And your fate is to live. For Ravka.”

          With that, Zoya left the king standing on his own in the cold, the weight of her own words heavy on her shoulders. But she locked them away and continued on. She only did what she knew was right.

          For Ravka.

#zoyalai #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #tamar kir bataar #tolya yul bataar #king of scars #my writing #hMMM #zoya being quite temperamental in the start aslfj;la #MORE TENSION #bc i love reluctant allies to lovers ohohoho #zoya canonically said she didn't trust him at first #let's take advantage of that #no softs until the seventh piece i think #HJALSFH #it's just them being insufferable and rough with each other #stay tuned #will write the next one asap ;-;

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “This is War.”

This arc is going to be exciting, I hope you guys like it. 

“Commander, the Burg have broken through the defense Nexus and are making siege on the Gromm homeworld. We have sent ships to supplement them, but we won't be able to last much longer. How soon can you arrive.?”

“Immediately chairwoman. Give me the change to mobilize the fleet, and we will come  drop in to assist. Have some of your your cruisers sent in with shield generators. We would be more combat effective, if all our time was not spent in maneuvers.”

“It will be done commander.”

“One more thing, chairwoman.”

“Yes commander.” 

���Get me a forward report of battle progress, I want numbers, estimates, power outputs, weapons, anything you can give me, I want to know about it.”

“You will have it, Commander.”

The hologram disappeared, and Commander Vir pointed to one of the communications specialists, “You, get the fleet online, immediately.”

“Yes sir.” 

There was a moment of verbal silence as the room was filled with the distant clattering of feet thundering through the lower decks preparing for battle stations.

Four young soldiers sat in the corner of the room wide eyed and nervously watching the proceedings unfold as their insides churned. 

What a day to be a new recruit.

Bright blue light erupted around the room, and fifteen figures stepped out of the ether in various stages of wakefulness and or dress.

“Commander.” One of the men Said salluting, he was older maybe in his early to mid fifties though he looked better than a lot of men twice his age 

“Captain Eklend, Koslov, Ho, Silva, Bassi, you five are active?”

“Yes, Sir.” They chorused

“What this is about?”

“War, Captain, The Burg have perpetrated an act of war against the GA. You five are needed immediately with my ship on the front line. The rest of you, prepare yourselves for standby. I don't want to put all my eggs in one basket.”

“An act of war!”

“Yes ,they are attempting to invade the Gromm homeworld.”

“What reason could they have-”

“Their reasons don’t matter for now. For the moment we focus on providing support to the Gromm and the GA. Have your crews ready as soon as possible, and initiate an instant warp. I know it will be rough on the coolant systems, but if you back charge that energy into the rail guns and cannons, that we should be able to arrive prepared. I want jets ready to provide in-atmosphere air support if necessary and as instantly as possible. Am I understood.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alert me as soon as you are ready, and make it quick. My people will have the coordinates to yours immediately “

“Yes, Commander/” Fifteen salutes, and fifteen holograms gone dark.

Commander Vir turned to the bridge crew, “Prepare for an instant warp, like I was saying before, make sure you back charge the rail guns with the excess energy put off by the core. We don’t want to smoke ourselves out with the heat.”

Turning, he took a seat in his chair, and despite his clothing, a star-wars T-shirt and a pair of heelies, no one would have assumed he was anything other than the commander. A door clattered behind them, and the small blue Drev from earlier burst through the door and ran across the deck to her seat.

“Sunny-”

“Yes! Preparing to back charge the railguns, commander. Loading bunker busting rounds, and loading flairs.”

“Good.” He barked.

With one hand he reached over and toggled the Comm switch.

His voice once relegated to this room, now echoed down the halls with a commanding echo, “Crew of the harbinger, this is your Commander speaking. At this moment the Burg have declared war on the GA and are attempting to overtake the Gromm planet for its strategic location within the GA. All of you are to report to your battle stations immediately and prepare for war. All vehicles, flying or otherwise, should be ready for takeoff. I want marines prepared to to insert by drop ship at a moment’s notice. All non military personnel are to return to their quarters, or a safe room away from the outer hull of the ship. Please make sure to go over any and all escape pod procedures in case of an emergency…..”

There was a moment of solemn silence.

“I understand that this is our first military engagement, I understand that you may be frightened, angry or even shocked, but I make a promise to you now, that I will do whatever I can to keep all of you and every last member of earth, and the GA safe. If you follow me in this goal I guarantee, there is no army, no species, no force save deity who can stop us. My fellow humans, and my brothers and sisters Drev,... let us show them what it means to wage war.”

He shut off the comm jaw set face staring forward.

With one hand, he reached up and pulled off the eyepatch revealing an inhuman mechanical replacement underneath.

“Commander, Captain  Kozlov is ready for warp.”

“As is Captain Bassi.”

“Captains Eklend, and Ho. Have reported in.”

“Captain Silva is ready, Commander.”

“Than we warp in five, four, three, two, one….”

***

The burg Commander stood at the head of her ship pincers clicking in great pleasure as she watched another one of the GA ships fall under her onslaught. 

Their shields were powerful, but their weapons were measly.

Their scientists had known this for a while. The GA were soft creatures born of government and economics and not of chaos like her people . They would rather, sit back and defend themselves like a wounded Curdling licking its wounds tan to stand and fight, and now they had insulted her people one last tie. 

Her previous successor, had failed in his mission, one that should have been easy considering their ability to exploit the GA’s soft and trusting laws, but he had lost his temper and given himself away before the end.

However, the time for stealth was long past, now it was a time for war. For the past few years, since their withdrawal from GA peace talks )she chittered her mandibles disgusted at the very thought they had once been willing to parlay with such disgusting creatures) they had traveled the galaxy in search of greater resources, stocking themselves for ward, creating alliances with other entities in the vastness of space.

The GA would fall for their insolence against the Burg,, and she would be the one to usher them into a greater future.

Who knows, perhaps she might even become queen.

The thought of sitting, fat and happy at the center of the hive made her insides wriggle with pleasure.

Another GA ship fell breaking into pieces and falling towards the glittering surface of the Gromm planet. The shards sparked and sizzled as they were deflected away from the planet’s defence nexus. 

It didn’t matter though, it wouldn’t be here for long.

She planned for that.

And that is when her alarms began going off. She whirled in a circle towards the group of grumbs at her back. They pulsed and oozed in time with the engines of the ship controlling the interior mechanisms with their bodies, which had been fuzed into the mechanisms. When this ship died, they would die with it.

“What is happening.”

“Your glory, ships have appeared from warp, and they ae firing on us.”

“WHO.” She demanded, “I must see!” They gurgled and mumbled as they got to work scrambling to do their best and find a suitable answer for her. The ship drifted around so the viewing platform faced outwards.

Ans that is when she saw them.

Two strange ships on the horizon, and as she watched, three more followed in quick succession, flashing into existence against the black backdrop of the  expanse. 

She would know those ships anywhere.

Hard, brutal and malignant like their pilots, “Slimy Maggots!” She spat grinding her pincers together.

“What is it, your glory?”

The sound that came through her teeth was nothing more than a warbling hiss “Humans.” 

The air around her pulsed with the wave of an incoming transmission. She accepted with an angry flick, her legs chittering back and forth across the ground. And then she saw it, that ugly hideous thing with its bulging bulbous eyes and sofy maggoty flesh, rubbery like a worm.

It blinked at her revealing that mouth full of toxic venom which had been such  a hindrance to her people.

She knew this human well, if not from personal contact, than form the hostires.

For to forget a grudge was to forget one’s honor.

“Disgusting human, have you come to join your fellows as their dust is sprinkled by the solar wind.”

“Let's drop the niceties shall we.” The human responded it’s voice a horrible throbbing humm inside her head, “Now that we are here, You have two options you will surrender to the GA and live, or you will fight and you will die poorly. Which shall it be, this is your first and final warning.”

She chittered her mandibles together in laughter.

“You are mistaken human. For it is YOU who will die poorly, and there is no surrender.

“Is that a no than?”

She spat at the screen, “You will die screaming.”

“I said, is-that-a-no?”

“NO.”

“Very well.”

And then she …. She saw something, or she thought she saw something. 

A flash of light, like a fire ignited behind the slimy outer layer of the human Iris. It was both cold and hot burning and cold, chaotic and still. The longer she stared the hotter the little fire grew, until it felt as if she could feel tongues of flame licking at her shell,

“Do you have gods, burg.”

She wasn’t entirely sure where this was going but the mesmerizing nature of the eyes caused her to grow still, unable to be silent against the burning question.

“Yes.”

“Do you pray.”

“Only over the pyres of our dead.”

The human bared his teeth slimy coating of venom sparkling under the light.

“Then Pray.” 

#humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #HUMANS ARE WERID #humans are space oddities #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia

[n-blanca-archived]

↳ BATTLEFIELD

↳ Ochako Uraraka x gn!reader

A/N: !! ochako!! i’ve had quite a roller coaster ride with my opinions about her but it’s hard to NOT love her lol! the first time i published this it didn’t do very well despite the fact that it’s honestly my favorite work to date! so i hope you enjoy reading it, too! remember to stretch and drink water! 

warnings: non-graphic mentions of blood, vomiting

prompt: Holding their hands when they are shaking.(from this prompt list!)

genre: angst+fluff at the end!

Tenya stood at your side, both of you too worried to say much of anything. His jaw was clenched, hands gripping at the radio in his grasp. 

He looked tired and angry, covered in the dust that floated leisurely in the air. 

You don't look any better. You continuously ran your hands down your face, pulling at your cheeks or rubbing at your eyes roughly as you watched the battle apprehensively. You could feel the dirt sticking to your skin, and your actions surely weren't helping, but you couldn't really find it in you to mind it. 

A city street covered in broken support beams and debris continuously got worse in front of you, buildings crumbling to the ground like sand. 

Deku, Ground Zero, Chargebolt, Creati, and Uravity were the only ones cleared to enter the fight zone. Usually, you wouldn't be so worried about your girlfriend. You were both pro heroes; danger came with the job.  You trusted in Ochako's ability to keep herself safe. 

But Usually, Ochako wasn't shaking. 

You've been watching your girlfriend fight for years now, and you can tell when she's off her game. Right then, Ochako isn't just off her game; she's not even playing. Her evident exhaustion was most likely due to the lack of sleep the last four days had brought. Tracking down this particular group of villains had been kicking everyone's ass if you were honest. 

Low-level villains would usually be no problem, but there was undoubtedly strength in numbers with them forming their own organizations. The Leauge of Villains had not been operating for years, but villains seemed to realize that banding together worked. 

Ochako and Creati were supposed to be in hare of escorting any remaining civilians out of the area and keeping the structures of buildings stable. Your quirk wasn't of any help. Since you were only there as a medic, you were stuck behind the separated zone, concrete barriers surrounding you. Iida was required to wait until someone was out of commission before he could go in; something about 'preserving their resources.' 

You bit your lip, watching Ochako stumble away from the villain slashing at her. Her opponent was tall and lanky, his fingers turning into sharp blades. Ochako wouldn't usually have so much trouble, but with her quirk still active on the building near her, she struggled. Momo was still inside, along with any potential civilians. She couldn't let up her quirk even if she wanted to. 

The villain lunged again, finger-blades lengthening and knicking her cheek. Your eyes focused almost absurdly on the drop of blood that flew from the small wound. 

She was just a few feet in front of you, and as much as you wished you could bypass the barriers and help her, going into a fight zone unauthorized could get your license taken away. 

The radio in Iida's grasp crackled. 

"Ingenium, you're cleared to fight. First position is with Deku, then circle back to Creati once you get the chance. Over."

Iida was gone before you could blink. You held the radio he had shoved into your hands tightly, knees locked. They'd start shaking if you un-tensed, you were sure of it.

Iida quickly took care of the attacker, easily slipping under the man's swing and knocking him out. He checked over Ochako for a second, and once he received a nod from her, albeit shakey, he was gone. The whine of his engines followed him as he ran off, closer to the main fight blocks away. 

People were bustling behind you, no doubt antsy from being side-lined and told to stay on the safe side of the barriers. You watch Ochako's knees give out, the brunette falling roughly onto the gravel. She bent in half at the waist and retched loudly enough for you to hear clearly; bile and a mix of things spilling out of her mouth. The building she had stayed right next to groaned eerily; she had reached her limit.

"Medic 16, cleared for retrieval. Shouto cleared for support; you'll be replacing Uravity." 

"Shouto!" You shouted over your shoulder, already vaulting over the barricades. Todoroki came sliding into view, using his ice to speed through the crowd of first responders and confused civilians. 

He skated by above you, pulling you up onto his ice path when you stuck out your hand. You held on tightly to him, doing your best to keep your balance steady on the slippery ice. 

In seconds, Shouto was dropping the ice path as gently as possible, helping you off of it as it reached the ground. You dropped to your knees next to Ochako. Todoroki already stories high and freezing the building in place as best as possible. 

"'Chako-chan, can you breathe with me?" You asked, pushing the girl into a sitting position away from the puddle of sick. She was struggling to breathe, puffs of air escaping her mouth too fast for your liking. Still, Ochako nodded shakily, watching your chest rise and fall as you took deep, exaggerated breaths.

You noticed quickly that it wasn't working. Ochako's breaths were still ragged, her gag reflex acting up often and causing her to shrink forward, shoulders heaving. It's been years since she's been so sick from using her quirk. 

Your mouth pulled into a frown, and with one hand, you dug into the supply bag on your hip. You popped a nausea tablet into her mouth, prompting her to chew. She does so sluggishly. She tried to wipe her mouth, but her hand was shaking so intensely that she couldn't bring it that high up. Ochako let her arm fall back into her lap and closed her eyes, taking in one last deep breath. 

"You're okay, Ochako. Just relax." You pull her hands into yours, running your thumb gently over her calloused palms and fingertips. 

"I didn't mean to stop my quirk." Ochako sighed, hanging her head. You nodded, letting go of one of her hands to pull off her helmet completely. 

"I thought, I thought I killed Momo for a second." She hissed, teeth grit together. Her face was pale and stained, but there was an intensity in her eyes that wasn't there moments before. She really had thought she had lost a friend, evidently. You watch a sharp tremor run through her frame. 

The movement prompts you to pull her hands until they were splayed against your chest, allowing her to feel your heartbeat and the rise and fall of your breaths. 

"She's okay. Her vitals are still being monitored. Todoroki's securing the building, you did great, Ochako." You soothed, guiding the heroine's breathing again. 

"Medic 16, Creati confirmed five civilians with her. Escort her and the civs out of the battle area. Uravity needs to be interned in medic tent 4." 

The radio's static voice startled the two of you. Still, you both recover quickly, standing hurriedly as you eyed the building's entrance wearily. 

Just as the distant rumble of your other coworkers fighting off other villains started nearing, Momo burst out of the building, face set in a grimace and chest heaving. She was supporting a limping woman wh was crying heavily. Another woman, looking just as haggard, stumbled along beside them, gripping two small children's hands in her own. 

What made you rush over to them was the child in Momo's hold, limp and stained in familiar shades of crimson. 

A  soft curse tumbled out of your mouth, looking back at Ochako one last time. You were hesitant to leave her, unsure she would be able to make it back by herself. Before you could speak, the brunette smiled gently at you and nodded, already turning to run back to the barricades. 

You lunged forward, hands already reaching out to take the child from Momo's hold. 

The medic tent was relatively quiet. Only a few other medics were active. They were busy in other medical tents, treating more solemn injuries or handling groups of civilians for shock. 

You went over the child's vitals again, sighing lightly. He had suffered a head wound, though luckily it wasn't too deep or long. Head wounds bleed quite a bit, and he seemed to only have that one wound. 

You figured the kid had a minor concussion, but the first concern was blood loss. Hopefully, you'd be able to check on him once he was transferred to an actual hospital. All you were really able to do was close the wound and repair the skin. 

His mother was lying on the cot next to him, leg wrapped in a temporary cast. The other woman and two children were herded out of the tent into a set waiting area, most likely being questioned about their relation and who could pick them up. 

Ochako sat on the cot farthest from the tent's entrance, fiddling with her helmet. 

"How are the others?" She asked when you neared, looking up at you. You smiled and sat at the end of the cot, tucking in your legs so they didn't dangle off the edge. 

"Haven't gotten an evac order or a call for a replacement, so they're managing. They've pushed in the fight zone, though. We must be winning." You said, pulling her hands into your lap and playing with them lightly. 

"And Momo?" She asked, biting her busted lip absently. 

"She's okay. We got her healed up; she's probably already up helping figure out things with civilians." You watched the tensions seep out of her shoulders, a small wobbly smile plastered on the brunette's face.

"That's good....thanks for dealing with me back there; I'm kind of embarrassed that I collapsed," Ochako giggled, cheeks flushing. You grinned lightly, pulling Ochako's hands up to your mouth and pressing a kiss to each of her palms. 

"It's what I'm here for." You muttered, pulling her into a gentle hug and leaning forward, forcing her to lay down. 

"Go to sleep. I'll wake you if anything happens." Ochako nods at your words, a small yawn escaping her before her eyes fluttered closed, face relaxing. You pushed the hair out of her face lightly before making your way off of the cot, standing with a sigh. 

Distantly, Deku's familiar yell rang out, followed by a loud boom. 

Ochako's job may be over, but yours is far from it. 

#uraraka ochako #mha #bnha #bnha x you #ochako x reader #ochako x y/n #uravity #ochako #bnha angst #bnha fluff #blanca.txt

[shehath-awakened]

Beautiful Deaths: chapter two

note: thank you so much for the support on the first chapter! i honestly did not expect that much attention haha, well here it is chapter two. i hope you enjoy!!

chapter one

summary: Y/N is a detective at the 99th precinct with a secret. Hiding from the avengers is not an easy task.

taglist: 

@lozzybowe​

@shuri-owns-my-heart​

@nowheredreamer​

@supergeekfangirl​

You felt the familiar twist in your stomach of the teleportation, only this time far worse. You had never taken another person with you before, let alone two; you had an awful feeling this was going to drain you more than usual. It took less than a second to materialise back in the precinct. You could hear the distant chatter of officers and the whirr of printers down the hall. Looking up and down the corridor, you made sure nobody had seen the three of you.

Almost immediately, Charles began frantically asking what had just happened and Jake… well, he looked just like he did that time Amy tricked him into running up to the roof on Halloween. With a swift movement you led a spluttering Charles and a sea-sick Jake into the evidence lock-up, locking the door behind you as to not be overheard.

“okay” you began “let me—”

“what the hell was that Y/N?!” Boyle cut you off. “since when have you been able to do that? And why did you run from the avengers? Are you in trouble?”

“I’m sorry, I promise I’ll explain everything just… not right now. I need you two to trust me. Please.” You looked between them imploringly, hoping they would have your back.  Charles held your gaze for a second and broke the silence;

“alright” he gave you a smile and you felt the weight being lifted off your shoulders. You looked to Jake. Like Charles did, he held your gaze with an expression you couldn’t read.

“Y/N of course I trust you. We are all a team. The whole squad will have your b—” he began but stopped abruptly, turning around and throwing up in the closest bin. Despite the interruption, you could tell he meant what he said.

“Oh yeah, sorry that tends to happen when you teleport for the first time. Should wear off in a few minutes” you explained, grimacing. It was strange talking to people about this, you had been keeping it secret for as long as you could remember but now it was about to be out in the open. Well, sort of.

“What do you need us to do?” you were brought back to the moment by Boyle. You looked at the time. Shit, it had already been ten minutes. You needed to act quickly as it wouldn’t take the avengers long to find out where you were, especially with the whole of Stark Industries and Shield at their fingertips.

“I need you to come with me to captain Holt” you addressed Charles “I need the squads help but I have to explain to him first. Jake—” you looked over at the sickly detective “join us when you can. We’ll be in his office. Do not speak to anyone on your way. Got it?”

Leaning over the trash can he smiled weakly holding up a thumb.

“Great” you patted him on the back a couple times as a gesture of sympathy and left with Charles to talk to Holt.

***

Despite your fatigue from the mission, you ran to holt’s office, time was against you and you had to get out of there and somewhere safe quickly.

“(Y/N), Boyle?” You had reached the bullpen, just about to turn into his office when you heard Amy behind you. “when did you get back? I didn’t see you get off the elevator… where’s Peralta?”

Crap. This is the exact kind of run in you were hoping wasn’t going to happen. But you then turned to her, realising she could help.

“Amy, you need to listen to me. Gather the squad and tell them to speak to absolutely no one but each other, even if it’s a family member. Please trust me. I’ll explain everything once I’ve spoken to Holt.”

She looked to Charles who nodded silently. She gave a single nod in response and went straight to Terry, doing as you instructed. Not willing to waste anymore time, you went to Holt who was, thankfully, inside his office. You didn’t bother knocking, it wasn’t the time for formalities.

“Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt. I have to talk with you. It’s urgent” as you walked into the room you closed the blinds. Your friend’s face became laced with concern and he motioned to the chair in front of him.

“what is the matter, detectives?” As you sat down you began to explain what had happened at the mission, how the avengers had turned up, how they let the guy get away causing you to get angry, not completely willing to go into the details despite the gravity of the situation.

“So you yelled at the avengers a bit? I’m sure they get it all the time from officers, it is nothing—” Charles cut him off.

“It’s what happened next, sir” Holt looked between the both of you, his normally stoic expression replaced with unease. Not too sure how to explain, you looked to Holt, telling him everything just as it happened. You then went onto explain why you had kept this a secret, it felt amazing to let go of it all. Not once did Charles or Holt push you, they trusted you completely and it felt surreal.

“So Captain, I need yours and the squads help, I can’t do this on my own” And without hesitation he agreed with a nod. You heard small sniffles coming from next to you and turned to see Boyle tearing up.

“You alright there bud?” you patted his upper arm as he replied between sobs,

“It’s just—so wholesome” before you could react he pulled you into a tight hug and you patted his back some more. He opened up his arm motioning for Holt.

“Captain get in here” he cried and you turned to Holt who wore his deadpan expression once more. With a lurch Boyle grabbed him and drew him into the embrace. You looked sideways to your captain and mumbled,

“Just say the word and I’ll teleport us out of here” as Charles comically sniffled into his shoulder.

***

After the awkwardly long embrace, captain Holt brought in the squad to explain the situation. What you liked most about him is his no-nonsense way about things. There was no beating around the bush with that guy which is exactly what you needed right now.

“So you threw a chair? What’s the big deal? I’ve lost it at them more then once.” Rosa chimed in. You sunk back into the corner of the room not wanting to admit what happened one more time.

“the deal, Rosa” Jake voiced as he walked into holt’s office, still looking a little green. “is that she threw it with her mind, it was awesome.”

Once again, all eyes were on you, some shocked, some looking for confirmation. Instead of verbally confirming what Jake had just said, you took a deep breath and lifted a pen from captain holt’s desk just like you had done with the chair. As you were doing so, the green signature of your abilities wisped around your hand and the object. After a few moments of hovering the pen, you set in back down on the desk.

Without any further explanations you looked back to Rosa and the squad. “I value my freedom. I never told anyone about my past but I have to now. When I was little I was taken because of my mutations. I can’t remember much but I know I was passed around a lot, being… sold, I assume for what I could do. I wish I could remember but I don’t. I got out somehow and made a life for myself. All I knew is that I had these abilities and couldn’t tell anyone. Next thing I knew New York was being attacked by aliens and Shield began rounding up people like me. That’s when some memories started coming back to me, although most of my childhood up to 16 is completely blank.”

You took a moment; the squad gave you the time you needed. You had never said this aloud to anyone before but it didn’t feel therapeutic, it felt damning. You knew this would change everything. You took another deep breath before continuing.

“So I need your help. Shield will be looking for me, I need to hide out for one night where they won’t find me.”

“You can come to mine. No one knows where I live” Diaz offered. You gave her a smile and surprisingly she gave one back. You turned to the rest of the squad,

“I need the rest of you to tell anyone who asks that I ran and that you have no idea where I am. It won’t necessarily be a shield agent or an avenger they send so do not tell anyone what I have told you. I’ll be back tomorrow disguised, I’m not letting this derail all I’ve built up”

“Isn’t that a bit risky? How do you know they won’t tell it’s you?” asked terry, you gave him a small smirk.

“Trust me, they won’t. Rosa, I’ll need to teleport us near yours to avoid being seen. Can you think of a nearby ally?”

“Several.”

“Perfect, no need to tell me I got it”

“Hang on. Did she just--?” terry addressed the group. You looked to him and finished his sentence for him;

“Read her mind? Yes, I did. Oh and before you ask Hitchcock, yes I have been able to do that all this time and you need to begin censoring your thoughts man”

“damn Y/N, what else can you do?” Jake asked looking like an excited puppy.

“Not enough time to explain. Rosa.” You offered the detective your arm to grab a hold of which she did immediately. Before leaving you looked back to the squad and nodded a thank you. You kept the place fixed in your mind and disappeared in a flash of green.

***

Just as you had done in the precinct, you rematerialized only this time in a dank alley near Rosa’s apartment.

“Dope” she said looking at you with an impressed expression, commenting on your skills. “Here, take my jacket, it’ll make you look less like yourself as we’re walking.”

The detective began to take off her leather jacket, and even though you admit it would be helpful you had another idea in mind. As she was handing you the piece of clothing you stopped her.

“Don’t worry I won’t need that. Hey, what does your dog look like?” you asked getting ready. You could have teleported you both straight to the apartment but it would be better if Rosa was seen entering without you.

“Golden lab about this tall, why does that--?” before she could finish there was another flash of green and down at her feet was you, as Arlo. “Holy crap Y/L/N” She said as she took the lead that you had conjured and began to walk you to her apartment.

As you were walking down the busy street, you spotted them and nudged Rosa with your head. Thor and Loki. Despite both being dressed in normal clothes, they could still be spotted from a mile off. They didn’t exactly blend in. You could tell Rosa had also seen them and they were walking to her, clearly about to question her on your whereabouts.

“Excuse me, Lady” Thor addressed Rosa, “My brother and I are here to speak you on behalf of Shield and the Avengers. Would you be able to tell us the whereabouts of one of your colleagues? (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?”

“Can you tell me why you wanna know?” she retorted, avoiding the question.

“I am afraid not, we can tell you she will not be harmed, Shield needs to speak to her about an ongoing confidential matter.”

You looked up at the two brothers in your current form. Thor was looking at Rosa, and she was looking at Thor. But Loki was looking at you. You sat down looking up at the god and cocked your head to the side. He remained silent, examining you until he was brought to the attention of his brother.

“Loki what are you doing?” Thor asked him. You were sure he had figured you out. It was only a matter of seconds, still you sat there waiting for the raven-haired man’s response.

“Oh nothing, it’s only this creature looks just like you brother” he said with a smirk. You were shocked, why did he not say anything? Your train of thought was interrupted by Thor spluttering his defence and you had decided you had spent too much time with the people you were hiding from. You pretended to chase after something, pulling Rosa away by the lead.

“I assume we are done here?” she asked coolly, raising her eyebrow while you still pulled on the lead.

“Yes, thank you for your time. Come on brother” replied the god of thunder and you and Rosa began to walk down the street and enter her apartment.

As soon as the door was closed behind you, you transformed back to yourself, exhausted. This was too much energy being drained in one day.

“that was a close call” noted Diaz, removing her jacket as you slumped on a nearby chair.

“yeah, yeah it was.” You said with a sigh. You stared into space, thinking about what had just happened. Loki knew that was you, you were sure of it. But why didn’t he say anything?

What game is he playing? You thought.

“relax, Y/N.” Rosa said to you handing you a drink, bringing you back to the real world. You weren’t sure what it was but it smelt strong, and you didn’t care. “we did it, you’re safe.”

But a few houses down were Thor and Loki, and unbeknownst to you, as you transformed back, you alerted the trickster to your use of magic, causing him to smirk once more and turn to Thor.

“I think this planet is starting to interest me after all, brother”

#jake peralta x reader #loki x reader #thor #Avengers #avengers x fem!reader #b99 #brooklyn nine nine #rosa diaz #rosa diaz x reader #captain america #raymond holt #terry jeffords #loki #jake peralta

[thewatermelloncat]

The Dead Follow

Summary: Written based on this prompt from Anonymous:

Klaus is at a family meeting called by Luther and he is sober but nobody knows other than Ben. So of course, the dead people occasionally say things to him so he starts to get all nervous while Ben keeps telling him to say something. The other siblings just make rude remarks saying that he’s probably high until he has a panic attack and they realize that he’s not.

Warnings: Panic attack and PROMINENT TOPIC OF ADDICTION – if either of these make you uncomfortable and/or could be triggering, please give this fic a miss.

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

He’d relapsed last week. One ill-advised drink had turned into more, he’d mixed some things he wasn’t proud of, and Diego had found him lying unconscious on a street corner.

No one had said much about it but Klaus knew they were all disappointed in him. He was disappointed in himself. They’d mostly been concerned he thinks. At least one of them had always stayed by his side until he gained the ability to function again.

Afterward, he’d expected a lecture but he was never given one. It seemed that his siblings had decided that all the words they could say would sound obvious so they were left unspoken. Some part of him wished they’d lectured him anyway because by them not saying anything it seemed like they didn’t trust him to listen.

Then again, he didn’t know if he would have.

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

He wakes up shaky. Every limb is fuzzy and every step feels like he is pulling a ton of bricks behind him. His head is splitting in two but he knows that this is the price he has to pay as the last of the drugs leave his system.

Pulling on his long black coat more for comfort than warmth, he makes his way down to the lounge for the family meeting Luther had notified them all of days ago.

As he travels through the academy silhouettes of people brush past the outskirts of his vision, seeming to be minding their own business. Some walk alongside him until they find where they are going and break off from his path, traveling down another hallway. Others wonder aimlessly, walking back and forth through walls regardless of whether the door to the room is open.

He should have expected the ghosts to be back but he wishes they had stayed away for longer. The prospect of seeing them everywhere he turns has him itching to get his hands on the liquor bottles he eyes as he walks into the living room.

As to be expected he is the last one there and sits down on an empty couch, picking up a few odd stares from his siblings at him not saying a word. Though their conversation continues quickly and their eyes draw away from him.

“Klaus, it’s going to be okay” Ben says from the other end of the couch, having noticed Klaus’ eyes darting around.

Klaus barely spares him a glance before his eyes shift elsewhere in the room. There are more ghosts than he’d expected.

“It’s always worse when you’re getting sober” Ben reminds him calmly.

Klaus knows that he’s right. Normally he can tune most of the ghosts out but when he’s only on the brink of sobriety his powers are hard to harness and he can’t block them out. That’s what makes staying sober so hard. Sometimes he can’t make it through the difficult period without needing a fix. It’s a hard cycle, a sometimes endless –

“Klaus” Luther’s voice pulls him out of his circling thoughts. “Are you even listening?”

“Sorry, what?” he blinks slowly and shakes his head, unfolding his legs that had at some point tucked themselves into his chest.

“Nah, he wasn’t listening” Diego seems to chuckle a little.

“What was the question?” Klaus knows to ask on instinct.

“There wasn’t a question” Allison sighs in irritation. “Luther was just saying that we should go through and get rid of some of dad’s old things. Make the place more our own.”

“Sure, whatever” Klaus mumbles already fading out of the conversation. Staring off as more ghosts congregate around the room.

“That’s it?” Vanya’s voice sounds distant. “No ‘we should have a sacrificial burning ceremony?’ No requests to burn marshmallows over the bonfire?”

All living voices fade away as Klaus begins to hear the ghosts mumbling to each other as they surround his littlest brother. He can’t make out what they are saying but their murmuring tones don’t sound happy as they shuffle around Five too closely for comfort. Like they are trying swallow him with their masses, only he remains blissfully unaware because he can’t see them.

“Probably high again” Klaus’ ears prick up again at Luther’s voice, his eyes flicking over to him.

“Klaus, we know you slipped up last week but I thought you were better than this” Allison joins in.

“You promised you’d come to us” – Klaus tunes the rest of Vanya’s words out. He never remembered promising anyone anything, unless if he did it without meaning it.

Everything is getting too loud. Overlapping voices of the living and the dead. His sibling moving closer to him and the ghosts filling the spaces left behind by them.

As his eyes focus more on them, he can see the red spots of bullet wounds in their foreheads or their chests, sometimes both. They were all clean kills – merciful almost. Though none of their quick passing seems to dull their anger at their killer.

Gradually Klaus can feel his breaths getting deeper, more erratic. He’s losing control. His hands feel weak as they grapple onto anything that he can hold to ground him. The sting of his finger nails digging into his ankles as he pulls his legs close to his chest works only for a moment before he gets accustomed to the pain.

“Klaus, you have to tell them what’s wrong. They can help you” Ben advises looking at his brother being swallowed by panic.

But Klaus can’t bring himself to speak.

“I don’t think he’s high” Diego’s voice stands out to him but Allison’s snap of disagreement gets lost in the flood of voices.

He watches as his siblings’ eyes all travel to Five who straightens up like he was just asked a question.

“No, I’m with Diego on this one” his voice sounds surprisingly clear given the noise in the room. “Look at his eyes, they’re not bloodshot.”

“But he’s panicky” Luther states with his tone unsympathetic, merely factual.

While Five continues an unheard explanation, Diego picks up a cushion from a chair near by and tosses it at Klaus. Though he didn’t see it coming he catches it quickly, pulling it into his chest and curling his body around it.

“His reactions are fine” Diego’s observation works its way to disproving the high theory.

The remaining angry and disappointed expressions are wiped away. Leaving looks of confusions and concern.

“What is it, Klaus?” Luther’s voice though still commanding sounds gentle.

He only chews at his lip, too frozen to speak.

“Klaus, tell them” Ben prompts.

“Everything is so fucking loud!” Klaus suddenly bursts out, voice shaking. The words of overlapping conversations becoming too much to bear.

“Klaus, we’re not yelling at you?” Allison says calmly.

“Is it a migraine?” Vanya guesses. Already talk erupts between the group of siblings, delegations to get mum, dim the lights, find pain relief.

“No… no” Klaus can only deny weakly and shake his head. They have it all wrong.

It’s a fair few seconds before his words register and the group stops in their tracks.

“Then can you tell us what’s wrong?” Allison asks taking a step toward him. “If you didn’t take anything, what is it?”

Klaus’ chest convulses, his voice readying him to speak while his mind still argues whether to explain or continue to spiral into panic.

“It’s your fault I’m like this” Klaus finally chokes out, turning to Five.

“Me?” Five draws his head back in confusion.

“They follow you everywhere!” Klaus tells him, close to hysterics.

“Who follows me?” Five asks lowering his voice and talking slow, trying to calm him.

“All the people you’ve killed.”

Around him the room seems to sombre as if the sun faded behind the clouds. The room darkening around them.

“Klaus, I” – Five starts, taking a step toward him.

“Stay away from me” Klaus interrupts him, throwing both hands out and shrinking further backward into the couch. “Stay the fuck away!”

“Klaus, I did what I had to. The deaths of those people are on my hands not yours. It wasn’t” – Five begins again, but Klaus doesn’t relax a muscle.

“Five, just go” Allison says calmly, her hands down low in a placating manner.

Five looks conflicted as his eyes flick between Allison and Klaus. His instinct is to go to him but he has to fight against it because that’s not what his brother wants. Allison is right, Klaus needs Five out of the room.

So, after a distressed breath and a shuffle on his feet, Five walks briskly out of the lounge. Once through the doorway he turns back to look at his brother again, chewing at his lip with worry etched on his face, before he turns back and takes off running.

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

After Five’s footsteps fade the room stays still for a long time. For Klaus the murmur of ghosts had dissipated as they followed his brother away. Now with the room occupied only by the living, his heartbeat slows in his ears leaving the room in an eerie silence.

He looks up hearing his siblings shuffling on their feet and their hands twisting in the fabric of their clothing, they are all looking away from him. Allison seems to sense Klaus looking at her and turns back to him.

“What can we do?”

“Nothing” Klaus tells her honestly.

“Surely there’s something” she presses.

“Well, it’s not like we can kick Five out” Diego smirks humorously with no malice.

“C-can someone go check on him?” Klaus asks. Having his brother alone after all he said doesn’t sit right with him.

“I’ll go” Diego volunteers, his smirk dropping as he jogs out of the room.

“Klaus, there has to be something” Allison repeats in disbelief. Not accepting that there is nothing that can help him.

“There’s nothing you can do” Klaus assures her. “It’s my fault anyway, I shouldn’t have relapsed. It’s always worse after that.”

“I shouldn’t have accused you of being high again” –

“We” Allison interjects between Luther’s apology.

“We should have asked if you’d taken anything before jumping to conclusions.”

“Taken anything…” Vanya suddenly repeats to herself.

At her quiet voice everyone looks over to her staring at the floor in consideration, her hands clasped in front of her as she thinks.

“I think I have an idea” she says looking back up and speaking clearer. “The pills that dad gave me dulled my powers, maybe they can do the same for yours.”

“Vanya, we still need his powers. Just like we need yours” Allison cuts in.

“I know, but just for days like this when they get too much.”

“They’re pills” Luther points out bluntly.

“I never got addicted to them.”

“I’m sorry Vanya, but you don’t have a history with addiction” Klaus reminds her.

“You’re right, I don’t” she agrees. “But we can give mum some to analyse. She’ll be able to tell us whether it will be safe or not.”

It still feels wrong and Klaus looks over to Ben nervously.

Even before he speaks Klaus can already read the look of consideration on his face. “Mum will be able to tell if it’s safe. No one will make you take anything you don’t want to.”

Externally Klaus relaxes. He can’t deny that he has been waiting for a way out of his powers for a long time, away from the drugs and the alcohol. Though internally nerves still course through his veins. Whether because he’s afraid of a new addiction or that he’s afraid it won’t work, he isn’t sure.

“Do you really think it will work?” Klaus looks up at Vanya.

She can see desperation in his eyes and her lips purse into an encouraging smile. “We’ll see” she says gently before repeating, “we’ll see.”

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