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lepusrufus · 3 years

Text

Double edged scalpel ch. 8

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7

Summary: Fluff? Smut?? Stuff???

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It was still early morning, if the bright light and faint chirping coming from out the window were anything to go by. Cassandra had been awake for a while, her body not needing nearly as much sleep as humans did.

She looked down to where Nicole's face was pressed on top of her chest, cheek slightly squished against the skin. Sleep had turned her features into soft lines, unlike her usual nonchalant façade that she wore like a crown. Though the dark circles under closed eyes were still present and, Cassandra mused, probably a permanent facial feature at this point.

The brunette couldn't help the small smile that curved her lips. She couldn't remember the last time someone had been in Nicole's position, so willing to let themselves be embraced by the shadows of the castle and wear the title of her "lover" with such grace. She wasn't even sure someone had been there before.

Though as endearing as the sight was, Cassandra was starting to get bored. Nicole's position half on top of her meant she couldn't really move without waking her up. How much sleep do humans need again? Eight hours? She was pretty sure it'd been eight hours. Besides, what harm would it do to stay and cuddle for a while, not that anyone other than the small redhead in her arms would ever be allowed to know about her apparent love for such things.

She hesitated for a second, the memory of Nicole jolting awake not too long ago making its way to the forefront of her mind. She would have to be more careful than Bela had been, opting for the gentlest way she could muster, fingers gingerly trailing down her cheek.

Cassandra frowned when the redhead flinched slightly at the touch, but soon let out a content hum upon hearing her name whispered by the brunette. Nicole didn't even bother opening her eyes. Instead, she nuzzled into Cassandra's neck and tightened her grip around her waist ever so slightly.

"Mmornin'," she said as if she actually had any intention of getting up.

"Slept well?" The brunette asked, shifting to lay on her side and starting to play with the long auburn locks sprawled on the pillows.

The reply she got was little more than a hum as her half asleep lover shifted and readjusted her position. Nicole's hand started to gingerly trace her spine upwards, then down again, on her waist and then stilled for a moment. She finally opened her eyes and looked somewhere past the brunette locks blocking her view. The arm on Cassandra's waist was removed and stretched towards the nightstand for a few seconds only to fall back on the bed accompanied by a soft groan.

"Can you pass me my phone…" Curse you, short arms.

To her dismay, Cassandra started to laugh at her struggle, earning herself a sleepy glare. She did oblige though, turning slightly and picking up the small object from the nightstand. With the phone finally in hand, Nicole unlocked it and let out another groan at the hour.

"It's so fucking early."

"It's 8 a.m." Cassandra raised an eyebrow when the redhead simply tossed the small object on the bed, probably never to be found again given it's sheer size, and turned back in her arms with an almost childish whine.

Nicole really wasn't a woman of many words in the morning.

"Why'd you wake me up so early?"

"I was bored," Cassandra answered simply.

Of course.

After another small groan, Cassandra decided to change tactics. Her hand moved from red hair down Nicole's bare back. She felt her breath hitch when she got to her hip, slender fingers going in ever so soft circles over the skin and the fabric of her underwear.

That seemed to wake the redhead up at least slightly. Her lips started to lazily move across collarbones, leaving a trail of kisses and an occasional nip. Then up her neck, hand now tangled in dark hair and giving it a light tug to tilt Cassandra's head and get better access to the spot right under her ear. She left a light bite there and the brunette let out a small moan, hand now fully gripping Nicole's hip and pulling her closer.

Cassandra's thigh, now placed between her legs just right, was hard to ignore but Nicole was a woman on a mission. She shifted her weight, now fully straddling the brunette and continued her trail of kisses along her jaw until she finally reached soft lips. Cassandra moaned in their kiss when Nicole's fingers came to rest around her neck, giving it a faint squeeze. She slipped her tongue past slightly parted lips and her other hand started to slowly trail lower.

The sense of satisfaction she got from Cassandra's impatient whine was hard to describe. Revenge for getting woken up so early.

"Just touch me already," Cassandra broke their kiss momentarily, and the redhead decided to be at least a little lenient.

She shifted her hips, giving way for her hand to wander beyond black lacy underwear. One finger started to circle her already wet entrance ever so lightly, causing Cassandra to buck her hips impatiently.

"Nico- ah!"

Her complaint was cut short by two of Nicole's fingers entering her. Cassandra squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip, stifling a moan.

The rhythm of her fingers was slow at first, enough to elicit a few more groans from the brunete, but her pace steadily increased. It wasn't long before Cassandra was grabbing at the sheets, not trusting her claws on Nicole's back anymore, and trying to clench her thighs together.

Nicole kissed along her neck as she came, the pace of her fingers slowing until Cassandra relaxed under her. Then, she pulled her hand away and sat back down on the soft sheets, taking in the view of her lover trying to catch her breath. When golden eyes finally fluttered open and looked up at her, Nicole grinned.

"Thought you didn't need to breathe."

"Do not get cocky with me." To her credit, Cassandra tried to glare, but her eyes were soft and lips turned into a small smile.

Sweet revenge. Although, Nicole mused, if Cassandra woke her up this early again she'd make her beg.

"I think we should start getting ready."

They still had a few hours to spare, but being early never hurt anyone. Cassandra seemed to have other plans though, as she placed a hand around Nicole's throat and pushed her down into the pillows.

It was Cassandra's turn to straddle her hips, her much taller frame giving the impression that she was a predator ready to sink its teeth into a meal. Paired with the devilish glint in her eyes when she leaned down to whisper against Nicole's lips, it was all too hot.

"And not return the favor? Who do you take me for hmm?"

So much for revenge.

---

Arranging tools next to the autopsy table has always been oddly relaxing. Repetition and the soft clinking of metal against metal when the scalpels were placed in their place. The leather gloves as she slid them on her hands. The apron that was waiting to be put on. All a comforting routine.

With some time to spare, she went to stand behind Cassandra, who was scribbling something in one of the many notebooks she had around. Many, Nicole had learned, as opposed to just one that magically appeared everywhere. She looked over her shoulders to see what she was writing and frowned.

She had one of the textbooks from Nicole in front of her and seemed to be correcting old notes from god knows how many years ago. Notes in german.

"Do you… speak german?" Nicole inquired. She wasn't necessarily surprised but it was weird it had never come up.

The brunette only let out an mhm and finished scratching out something, replacing it with the information from the book. In english. "And french, italian, hungarian, and some russian. My russian's really rusty though, been a long time since it was in use around here."

Okay. Impressive. Nicole supposed that being immortal does come with benefits such as infinite time to learn different languages. Cassandra let out a chuckle at her surprised look.

Then she checked the hour and snapped the notebook shut. Showtime.

Clank

They both froze.

Their eyes darted to the door, left slightly ajar.

Clank

"You… heard that right?" Nicole's question was so low, it would've probably gone unheard if not for sensitive vampiric ears.

"Loud and clear. Stay here."

And she should have really. Cassandra was strong and could take care of herself. Whatever was making noise was probably a bored prisoner wanting to quicken their demise.

But the sinking feeling in her gut gave her no peace. Whether it was worry for Cassandra, the fear that crept up her spine at being left alone, or a mix of both was anyone's guess.

She grabbed one of the scalpels from the tray.

It gave her a false sense of security as she slipped through the door and down the dark corridor connecting the study to the cells.

One of the perks of being small? You can hide almost anywhere. And this was no exception. The shadows hid her well while she stepped for the first time past old cells. Some run down, some full of devices not unlike the ones in the room she had just exited.

She could hear a growl up ahead and came to the realization that it belonged to Cassandra. She was frustrated at something and Nicole wondered if being there was really a good idea. Most likely not. But she came all the way there, might as well see what got the brunette so upset.

She started walking towards the sound of heels against stone and was about to call out Cassandra's name when a shadow caught her eye. She froze.

From where she was, still enveloped by darkness, she saw something peeking around a corner at her lover, but it's back almost completely turned to her. Someone, she realized as she strained her eyes to take in more details. A man, no taller than Cassandra, ragged clothing and something shiny in hand.

Panic took over when she realized that shine came from the reflective barrel of a gun, half in position and ready to shoot. Shoot at Cassandra.

She sprung forward, stealth be damned with how loud her boots sounded against the stone underfoot. The sound alerted Cassandra, who turned in her direction wide eyed. It also alerted the man, who spinned on his heels and let out a choked scream that seemed to ring in her ears.

The sound died in his throat when the scalpel was plunged in his neck, through the trachea and whatever other veins and arteries the blade found in its path. He leaned back against the wall, disgusting gurgling sounds making their way past bloody lips.

"Nicole!" Cassandra was by her side in the span of a second. She wanted to turn to her but instead she stumbled forward, almost crashing into her arms.

Something was wrong.

Adrenaline was finally starting to leave her body and instead searing pain was making its way in her muscles. Her head was starting to spin but she managed to look down only to see a crimson stain on her abdomen. An ugly contrast with her white uniform, really.

Her ears were ringing, but she faintly registered Cassandra let a long string of curses spill past her lips.

Then she was picked up, the wound in her abdomen sending jolts of pain with every hasty movement. She couldn’t help crying out when Cassandra presumably reached the dungeon steps and started ascending.

Staying awake was becoming an increasingly hard task. No matter how much she tried to keep her eyes open, it resulted fruitless as black splotches were starting to obscure her vision.

She finally let her lids shut, her head slumping against Cassandra's shoulder as nothingness started to envelop her foggy mind.

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #unhinged maiden™ my beloved #fanfic #double edged scalpel

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katsidhe · 3 years

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could you share the descriptions of the answers? I'm bad at answering these quizzes cause I always get like 3 answers that fit but in different circumstances so I like seeing all of the descriptions

Yeah sure! I too wish uquiz gave an option to see all the result descriptions... alas.

anyway here’s a wall of text, go nuts.

DEAN-CODED DEAN GIRL

You might just be the hero of a YA fantasy novel or an action movie, because you have Big Protag Energy. You’re self-centered and extremely giving at the same time: you expect and demand absolute loyalty, just as you provide the same. Your love can move mountains, but if you’re not careful that same love can be suffocating or controlling. You’re volatile: you’ll cut a bitch and you don’t care who knows it. You’ll kick their ass. You’ll kick their dog’s ass. You’ll kick your own ass. You have a one-liner for every occasion. Your friends like you but would describe you as “a lot.” You’re magnetic: your charisma and sheer bull-headedness mean you stand out in every room. You’re polarizing, and you know it, but that doesn’t bother you: you know you’re right, and even when you’re wrong, you’re at least entertaining. You’re very “do as I say, not as I do:” you’re a bit of a hypocrite, but, like, in a fun way.

Holotypes include: Dean Winchester (Supernatural), Thomas Jefferson (Hamilton), Sirius Black (Harry Potter), Kathryn Janeway (Star Trek: Voyager), Katara (ATLA), Vriska Serket (Homestuck)

DEAN-CODED SAM GIRL

You are a charmer and a people-pleaser. You’re charismatic to a fault, when you want to be: whether consciously or not, you have a razor-keen sense of how others see you, and you mold yourself to expectations. You can either talk circles around most people, or you come across as so fundamentally honest that you gain everyone’s trust without trying. Your affable persona is built on a rock-solid sense of purpose. You have a steadfast, deadset fixation on your goals, which you know in your heart to be worth any cost and any sacrifice. Armed with iron conviction, you’re a rebel with a cause. Is it paranoia if they really are all out to get you? When you inevitably win, the whole world will know your name. Your strong sense of self will carry you through any hardship. Your friends look up to you, but they don’t always “get” you.

Holotypes include: Lucifer (Supernatural), Eponine (Les Mis), Count Olaf (A Series of Unfortunate Events), Prince Zuko (ATLA), Samwise Gamgee (LOTR), Karkat Vantas (Homestuck)

DEAN-CODED CAS GIRL

Like all Dean-coded people, you are charming and affable, and you talk a big game. You might be the class clown or a popular athlete, or otherwise one of them cool kids, but underlying that public persona is a certain quiet idealism. You keep your strong convictions close to your heart, even when far from home or beset by strife. You’re fiercely loyal and you crave being around people, but you can see when your friends need space, and you can get along okay on your own. You’re not afraid to change your opinions if new information comes to light. Strangers find you easy to get along with: you tend to go along with the group, and you’re a team player no matter what needs to get done. Your chill-to-pull ratio is sky-high.

Holotypes include: Ahsoka (Star Wars), Meg (Supernatural), Percy Jackson (Percy Jackson), Ginny Weasley (Harry Potter), Boromir (LOTR), Jon Snow (Game of Thrones)

SAM-CODED DEAN GIRL

You come across as level headed, but you’re never more than an inch from going off the rails. Your highest values are love and personal loyalty, but you’re pragmatic about it, and you try very hard not to put unfair expectations on other people, with varying degrees of success. You spend a lot of time dealing with expectations; it’s something you either grapple with, or lean into to use to your own ends. You value your own sense of identity, but that identity can get subsumed by your loyalties. You can easily get pulled in or suborned by strong personalities. You keep secrets, both from yourself and from others. Who you want to be is at odds with how you see yourself. People meeting you for the first time might say you’re aloof. You have lots of strong opinions, but you usually keep them to yourself… unless provoked. Careful; you bite.

Holotypes include: Mary Winchester (Supernatural), Harry Potter (Harry Potter), Aragorn (LOTR), Anakin Skywalker (Star Wars), Julian Bashir (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine), Katniss Everdeen (Hunger Games)

SAM-CODED SAM GIRL

Gifted kid (diagnosis). You were and maybe still are an outsider, and because of that you’ve had to learn to be self-sufficient and confident in your own abilities. You’re a fiercely independent overachiever, and you’ve fought hard for every inch. Somewhere inside you is a hot, long simmering rage born from the injustice of the world, but it’s buried very deep. You’d be more than content to be alone for long periods of time. You have sometimes crippling perfectionism: if you aren’t succeeding, it’s your fault for not trying hard enough. You’ll pick every kind of intellectual fight and throw yourself into playing devil’s advocate just to improve your understanding: you see the gray areas in everything. You’re aggressively big-picture. You want to, no, you MUST change the universe, but you don’t need to take credit for it. Your few friends might describe you as callous, but you know you’re just being realistic: you’ve got a harsh, clear-eyed sense of the world. No pain, no gain, and really, if you do the math, no single individual is all that important in the grand scheme of things.

Holotypes include: Kevin Tran (Supernatural), Jean Valjean (Les Miserables), Emperor Palpatine (Star Wars), Neville Longbottom (Harry Potter), Frodo Baggins (LOTR), Dirk Strider (Homestuck), Luke Castellan (Percy Jackson)

SAM-CODED CAS GIRL

You have a strong sense of how the world ought to be, but you have no overriding vision or big master plan: you take life day by day to fix the little things you can. You have very few close relationships, but those you have you treasure dearly. You support your few friends unconditionally, but you tend to be emotionally distant with acquaintances. You may be a bit of a pushover. You often find yourself put in the position of mediator. You loathe conflict, so you avoid it unless absolutely necessary--but once you’re truly angry, you’ll stop at nothing to see justice done. You’re a diplomat and an advocate: you are deeply idealistic, but you’re nevertheless strongly grounded in a pragmatic sense of achieving what you can. Philosophy is action, action is philosophy; you like meditation and self-improvement and have probably done at least one juice cleanse. Both friends and strangers describe you as quietly dependable. If you can’t see the trauma, the trauma can’t see you! That’s just science!

Holotypes include: Sam Winchester (Supernatural), BJ Hunnicut (M*A*S*H), Jean-Luc Picard (Star Trek: The Next Generation), Aang (ATLA), Luke Skywalker (Star Wars), Nico di Angelo (Percy Jackson)

CAS-CODED DEAN GIRL

Much of your identity is tied up in a set of core beliefs - to the point where those beliefs might be strong enough to override your identity. You’re not beholden to any outside system. If you’re comfortable serving a larger common goal, it’s because you believe in it wholeheartedly. You’re action-oriented: you act first, and think later, or possibly never. You judge your friends solely based on what they do, and you tend to hold people accountable for any unforeseen consequences of their choices. You have strong personal loyalties. You’re not at the center of your social circle, but your friends trust you implicitly and the leader of your group tends to confide in you. You don’t seek power, but you’re also not afraid of taking charge, and you may find power thrust upon you. If you do find yourself in a position of leadership, you struggle with going too far or taking your friends in an unexpected direction. Whether you’re fighting in a war or making yourself a sandwich, you go hard in the motherfuckin’ paint.

Holotypes include: Castiel (Supernatural), Javert (Les Miserables), Captain Rex (Star Wars), Kanaya Maryam (Homestuck), Worf (Star Trek), Albus Dumbledore (Harry Potter)

CAS-CODED SAM GIRL

I mean this in the nicest possible way, but you’re a bit weird. You are spacey or odd or otherwise out of step with how people think you should act, but that’s fine. It doesn’t matter what they think, because if you’re sure of one thing, it’s that you should never mold your unique identity to other people’s expectations. You live internally: you’re all about grand, world-changing concepts, whether they be philosophical, artistic, or mathematical. You are grounded in the reality that you are one person and one viewpoint among many others, but that doesn’t stop you from writing your nine-hundred page thesis on the topic you’re passionate about. You can justify just about anything by the virtue of your personal convictions arising almost entirely from within yourself. Your identity can get swept up in your big ideas. You’re easier to sway with logic than with emotion, but you don’t feel the need to confine yourself with such terms: you operate on both vibes and flowcharts. You move through the world with the assurance that you are the master of your own fate, and you are unburdened by worrying about the opinions of others. You won’t let yourself feel pinned down by one social group; you float in and out comfortably, depending on how you’re feeling. Friends and strangers describe you as “spooky.”

Holotypes include: Azazel (Supernatural), Luna Lovegood (Harry Potter), Aaron Burr (Hamilton), Princess Azula (ATLA), Yoda (Star Wars), Jadzia Dax (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine), Terezi Pyrope (Homestuck)

CAS-CODED CAS GIRL

You are chaotic and excitable. You’re swayed by the drive to explore: the greatest good is to understand the universe and your place in it. You’ve got big ideas, and you’re drawn to new experiences, but you don’t necessarily understand what’s going on. You might be a part of a bigger social machine, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be defined on its terms: you’ll self-actualize if it kills you. You identify new objects by licking them. You can see the strings of the world; what will you choose? You’ll take the reins and see where they take you. You say you’re following your own path. Your friends say you don’t know what you’re doing. Pragmatism? Never heard of her. A dream is a vision is a reality; ideas are the world writ large. You might be a prophet or a visionary. With your head in the clouds, you’re sometimes divorced from both reality and consequences. You’re usually on the outside looking in, and you don’t want to be. People think they understand you, but they definitely don’t. Your friends and enemies describe you as impulsive and mysterious.

Holotypes include: Raphael (Supernatural), Uncle Iroh (ATLA), Draco Malfoy (Harry Potter), Data (Star Trek: The Next Generation), Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars), Gandalf (LOTR)

#x coded y girl #i speaks #my quiz #long post for ts #why doesn't uquiz give that as an option?#and while we're at it why won't uquiz let me click one button to read all the text box responses ppl gave me :(#aromanticbristlefrost

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

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The Bachelor

A birthday gift for @bellafarallones. Part 3 of the TAZ Amnesty Bachelor AU (sternclay and indruck were the first two) AKA what Vincent was up to. Apollo is from my Amnesty Super Hero fic

The entire United States to choose from and this is the best the producers could find? He’s going to win this thing with his eyes closed. Then it’s a hop, skip, and jump to some endorsement deals, his own spin-off, and then a prime time hosting slot.

Oh, and a marriage. But that should be easy; any guy would count themselves lucky to have him.

God, that pool will be great for Instagram shots. Luckily the producers knew their biggest draw when they saw him and agreed to let Indrid continue his work as Apollo’s personal photographer and assistant. He may be a disappointment to the Cold name, but he’s good with a camera and has no interest in being recorded for the show. And if, god forbid, Apollo comes down with a cold during filming, someone will be there to bring him Day-Quil. After all, if he lets anyone see Apollo in a vulnerable state, Apollo will just have to send their father an email about Indrid’s latest failure.

“It’s times like this we should be grateful for our genes. I know I am.” He glances at his twin, pausing his gaze on his silver hair and tattoos.

“You dye yours too. And I think there are more than a few handsome men here, so don’t get cocky.” His attention shifts for a moment as a man dressed like Smokey the Bear passes them.

“Oh come on, even with those pretentious glasses you can see I’m a cut above.”

“If you say so. And if you want to do shots of you in your suit, we need to start soon, so kindly find your room so we can get on with it.”

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Not only is this easy, it’s fun. The cameras love him, and most of his fellow contestants yield to him after one remark. He’s been watching Vincent, the bachelor for this season, closely during group interactions, and it’s clear he’s already developing favorites. Annoyingly, two in particular--Joseph and Duck--are more inclined to push back at him. But it doesn’t matter; everyone has weaknesses. He’ll find theirs soon.

Tonight is his first formal date with Vincent. They’re at an Italian place with good lighting, and Vincent is perfectly nice to look at in his lavender dress shirt and silver tie. Apollo’s done his research; Vincent is ten years his senior, took an early retirement from a position in the department of defense and now runs two consulting businesses; one for banks and museums and one for domestic violence shelters, health clinics, and other places where doing good draws enemies. The first business subsidizes the second. Vincent enjoys tennis and running, has no Instagram presence, and is an only child.

Apollo has his plan of attack; the trouble is, Vincent isn’t interested in sitting there and being flattered (though he does blush when Apollo says the tie makes the grey in his hair look all the more distinguished). He wants to know about Apollo.

“When you’re not taking photos, what do you like to do?”

He doesn’t correct him about who takes the pictures, smiles, “I, ah, I go to the gym.”

“I have to say it shows.” Vincent winks. It’s so corny, but Apollo can’t find it in him to hate it, “any sports, or just things like weights and cardio?”

‘

“No, but I played football in high school. I was star running back.”

“I played my freshman year, but baseball suited me better. So when you're not ‘pumping iron’, what do you do for fun?”

There is no answer that won’t make him look too shallow or too...no, he can’t even think about that option. Damn it, he must have a normal hobby. He hedges with the truth and hopes the editors cut it for time.

“I like movies. I, ah, I’ve been working my way through the Criterion Collection of the birth of cinema and it’s fascinating. Did you know there was a silent film heartthrob who predates Valentino?”

“Sessue Hayakawa?”

“You know about him?” He leans forward.

“I read a biography of him last year that was riveting. I still have it if you’d like to borrow it.”

“Yes, yes absolutely. We, we could even watch some of his films together, and the ones they inspired, you know they, they…”

Fuck, he’s acting like Indrid, bumping the table and yammering about things that will get him nowhere. He sits back, grabs his wine and sips to cover his error.

“I’d like that.” Is all Vincent says as they’re entrees arrive.

“Enough about me. I was reading about your business and, ah, well, how do you even do something like that?”

Vincent describes his process, how he picks clients and what he considers when evaluating a space. Apollo fully intends to zone out with a smile.

He hangs on every word. All too soon, Vincent is asking for dessert.

“Is your meal okay?”

Apollo looks at the plate of spaghetti carbonara he’s been poking at, not wanting to be caught in an ugly expression while eating, “Yes, it’s delicious.”

Dessert arrives in the shape of a chocolate lava cake with sparklers, a detail which delights Vincent. It’s such a ridiculous thing to smile over. Apollo smiles back, and let’s his date feed him a bite of cake.

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

Was the beach trip self-serving on Vincent’s part? Indeed. Has it also given him valuable intel? Yes, yes it has.

He now knows who’s going home next; Nico is such a fraternity-bred asshole that he should have sent him packing weeks ago. Honestly, all his comments about Barclay this morning were awful. Barclay is masculine and sweet in a way Vincent adores. He even helped Joseph during the cliff dive, which bumps him even higher in Vincent’s eyes.

Joseph stealthily knocking Nico’s hat from his head with a frisbee was also a high point; goodness, Joseph reminds him of men he used to work with who he never, ever, admitted his feelings for (they were often his subordinates, and he prided himself on keeping a safe department).

Then there’s Duck. Vincent would like an award for not spending the morning asking to rub sunblock on those arms. He’s been treated to a closer view of them the last half-hour, Duck sitting next to him in a Hawaiin shirt that shows off his biceps. The ranger just now excused himself (“gotta give the other fellas a chance to impress”) to go keep Indrid company during dinner. Polite and friendly to the core, that’s his favorite bear.

And then there’s-

“Hiiii Vincent.” Apollo slides into the spot closest to him on the restaurant deck.

Were Vincent choosing for an evening, Apollo would edge out even Duck. He suspects getting the younger man under some comfortable sheets to praise and fuss over him would be very nice indeed. Apollo may posture and insist to the others that he’s the dominant one in the bedroom, but this isn’t Vincent’s first go around; he knows someone who longs to be spoiled and submissive when he sees one.

But he’s here to choose his husband, not a hook-up.

He initially assumed he’d send Apollo home after their first formal date. He knows these shows sometimes attract people who want their fifteen minutes of fame, and Apollo is one of them. But then his meticulously built image cracked, just a little, as they talked, and Vincent is so taken by what he saw that he can’t bring himself to send him home yet.

The older man slides the younger one an oyster, “try one, they’re local.”

There’s no appealing way to eat an oyster on camera, but Apollo lifts a shell and downs one. He does an excellent job masking his grimace.

“Another? Or would you like one of the grilled scallops instead?”

He watches him run a calculus. Then he slides his sunglasses down, “Scallop, please.”

Maybe there’s hope for him yet.

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

“Indrid, Vincent hates me!”

Indrid blinks at him.

“One of the other contestants got them to show him a bunch of footage of me putting the other men in their place and now he hates me.” Genuine panic rises in his chest as Indrid gives him absolutely no expression to work from.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Talk to him, tell him that I’m not-”

“What you actually are? Vincent is here to choose a spouse; he has a right to not choose you.”

“Fix. It.” Apollo snarls.

His twin stands, regarding him from across the rug, “I will speak to Vincent, on one condition; you do not go after Duck ever again.”

“Traitor, you should be on my side, not his.”

Indrid shrugs, sits back down and picks up his book.

“I’ll, I’ll tell father you’re sabotaging me.”

“You think he’ll like to hear you’re being out done by his inferior son?”

“....Damn it. Fine, fine. I’ll leave Newton alone. Now go.”

His brother has the audacity to grin at him, “I will, right after I finish this chapter.”

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

He’s sitting with Duck and Joseph, asking their opinion, when Indrid enters the living room.

“Did Apollo send you?” Vincent picks lint from his cardigan.

“Yes. He’s asking me to intercede on his behalf since he thinks you hate him.”

“Oh dear, I don’t hate him. I just said I was disappointed in him.”

“Ah” Indrid perches on the arm of Duck’s chair, “That’s our father’s code for ‘I hate you.”

“Jesus.” Duck mutters.

“I suspected he was exaggerating. That’s why I agreed to talk to you; I’ve learned it’s best to verify anything he tells me. In truth, I can’t do much for him. If it’s not obvious, he takes after our father and our father is...not a good man. We each survive him in our own way; Apollo chose to mold himself into what he demanded we be. That does not excuse him. But perhaps it puts him into perspective.”

Vincent knows he’s not sending Apollo home this week; it’s still Nico’s turn. And his heart that taps his chest to ask, “Do you think he could change?”

Indrid says nothing. Duck is keeping his mouth shut, but his frown suggests his answer.

“This is not to defend him but” Joseph looks at Indrid, “you grew up under the same conditions and chose not to replicate them. That suggests it’s possible.”

“I just didn’t want to end up like him.” Indrid murmurs.

“And ‘possible’ don’t mean probable.” Duck adds.

Vincent rubs his temples, “You’re right. All of you. I...I think I need some time to decide how many chances to be the person I think he can be I ought to give him.”

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

Apollo isn’t sure what to expect. The last time Vincent asked to see him, it was to scold him. Three guys have gone home since then, and he’s been fighting back his impulses to torment and gloat, focusing instead on making Vincent like him instead of undermining the competition.

The door opens on a room with a bed, lots of candles, and…

“Is that whale song?”

“Yes. I picked a ‘soothing’ playlist to fit the mood.” Vincent is in linen pants and a button up short sleeve, pats the bed with a smile, “I thought a nice massage might do you good. Non-sexual, of course” he tips his head at the camera.

Apollo isn’t shy. His thirst traps are legendary. But he lays on his stomach the instant he’s down to his underwear. Vincent hums as he starts on his shoulders, checking in now and then about pressure. It would be nice if Apollo’s skin weren’t starving for gentle touches. He keeps letting out pathetic sounds, almost like chirps, as Vincent rubs him down.

Then the worst thing happens; he gets hard. At first he tries just keeping his hips still but no, just Vincent’s touch is enough. So he tenses in hopes of not giving it away.

“Is it too hard?”

“No, I’m fine.”

The hands leave his skin and he whines like a kicked dog.

“Would you gentlemen let us do the rest in private? I’m sure the viewers get the point.”

There’s shuffling feet and shutting doors, and then a gentle hand rolling him onto his back.

“Apollo, what’s really--oh. That explains it.”

He scrambles to sit up, tucking his knees to his chest, “I’m sorry, you said you didn’t want it to be sexual, I didn’t do this on purpose, I swear-”

The bed squeaks along with him as Vincent sits, “Sweetheart, I’m not going to get angry with you for this. If, um, if it helps to know, the feeling is very much mutual.”

It should feel like a triumph, but his cheeks burn and he hides his face against his knees.

“Does that bother you?”

“No! No, not at all. I wouldn’t be wooing you on T.V if I didn’t think you were attractive. Blech, I sound like one of Indrid’s romance novels. Not, not that there’s anything wrong with Indrid...liking...silly things.”

Vincent cups his face and he leans into it, wants to glue his cheek there, “Apollo, I’ve noticed you’re trying to be less...unkind since our little talk.”

“I’m trying. It’s just so very, very hard.”

“I’ve also noticed you’re letting your persona go now and then. That means a lot to me. I’m not interested in the man you think you should be; I’m interested in the man you might become, the man you are when you stop trying to be better than everyone. I like that man, I’d like to get to know him more.”

Apollo shivers as Vincent kisses his forehead, “I’ll do my best.”

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

“The nerve of Joseph to say things like that to me!”

Indrid doesn’t look up, “It’s a genuine concern; Vincent is older, there will likely come a time when you’ll be the one caring for him. Are you certain you’ll have the patience for that? Be willing to put your needs and wants on hold for the sake of someone else?”

That’s really what would happen? He, he could do it for Vincent, he’s certain. But could he? What if it’s hard, without glory or gain, does that make it foolish?

He chases those thoughts in dizzying circles for fifteen minutes until they crash into the solution.

“I solved it! I don't have to worry about taking care of Vincent as he ages because he'll divorce me once I reach thirty-two.”

“That is the bleakest possible conclusion.” Indrid flips his sketchbook closed.

“Just let me have this!”

“I hate that I even have to say this but Vincent is not our father.”

“Father said he was doing what any sensible man would do.”

Indrid levels him with an unusually firm stare, “Do you not want Vincent just because he’s over thirty-two?”

“Of course not! He’s great! I, brother for goodness sake just tell me how to care for him.”

“I literally cannot do that. You have to figure it out for yourself what care looks like for you.”

He’s about to repeat his demand when his phone rings.

“Hi, Vincent.”

“I'm so sorry, but I have to break our date tonight. I was out for a run and twisted my ankle. I just got back from the doctor; he says I sprained it, so I might be on bed rest a few days.”

Perfect.

“Oh no, I’m glad it’s not too serious. Would, ah, would it be alright if I came to see you?”

They agree on a time. Then he remembers the problem that preceded the phone call.

“What do I do?”

“What do you want to do for him? Or, if your positions were reversed, him to do for you?” Indrid asks flatly.

“Call you so he doesn’t see me looking frail.”

“assume I am dead and thus no longer dealing with your nonsense”

“That’s not fair.”

Indrid flops on the bed, “I'm dead, Vincent is the only one who is coming to take care of you, what do you want him to do?”

“Tell me it’s okay and spend time with me and…”

Indrid grins, “And?”

“And watch PBS in bed.”

“It’s a start. Now please get out of my room.”

An hour later he pokes his head into Vincent’s bedroom; the older man is reclining, reading a John Grisham paperback in a robe that makes him look very suave

“How are you feeling?” He sits next to him, rubs his knee. .

“Oh, I'm fine, just feel a little silly. It used to be I could twist an ankle and come up fine. Aging is quite the adventure.”

“I, um, I'm glad it wasn't too bad. I, I don't like the thought of you getting hurt. Bot that you'd be bad if you did! I accept that we are all very fragile beings trying not to die.

(Too dark, Cold, pull it back).

“I mean, um, is there anything I can do to help?”

“I'd be happy to have you stay awhile.” Vincent takes his hand, let’s him lean on his shoulder as they talk. They’re midway through a discussion of famous film disasters when a small burst of black and red lands on the windowsill. He doesn’t catch his excitement in time and Vincent asks him what made him perk up.

With a courage he did not know he possessed, he points to the bird.

“Oh! How beautiful. What kind is it?”

“Scarlet Tanager” he mumbles, “they’re not common here.”

“Do you know a lot about birds?”

He nods.

“There are some feeders just on that balcony. And I think the binoculars a friend gave me last Christmas are still in the closet, if you’d like to use them.”

“I would” he stands, heart bubbling with terrifying warmth, “thank you, da--ah, dear.”

Mischief sweeps across Vincent’s face, “Is this where you tell me you’ve had lots of older boyfriends?”

“No. I, ah, I’ve made out some but I never dated.”

“Not even a highschool sweetheart?”

“My father made it so no teenager wanted to go near our house. Or us.” The binoculars are magnificent, the best money can buy, “I always wished I had a date to homecoming. It looked so fun, asking someone or getting asked and then having matching outfits and going out to dinner and taking pictures together. I even picked out an outfit just in case someone asked. I think Indrid snuck out to meet his burnout--, um, meet his friends. I just sat in my room.”

“You could have asked someone yourself, couldn’t you?” Vincent makes room for him on the bed once more.

“And risk getting rejected in front of the whole school? No thank you.” He stares at the binoculars, afraid of what he might see if he turns, “I'm sorry, you don't need to hear all this. I’m supposed to be here taking care of you.”

Vincent opens his arms, pulling Apollo into a hug, “You know care can go two ways at once, right?”

“Not really” he mumbles into silver silk.

“Oh, sweetheart.” A kiss on his cheek, hands running soothingly up his sides, and those weak, silly noises slipping from his mouth.

“I want it to be, I’ll be so good, I’ll take care of you, just please...please say you’d do the same?”

“Of course. That’s what love is.”

He tucks his face against Vincent’s neck, “Will you make fun of me if I say I’m frightened?”

“Never.”

“I don’t know how to do so much of this. I don’t know how much of me can change.”

“Are you willing to try?” Vincent kisses the shell of his ear.

“For you? Yes.”

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

“I choose…” Vincent looks between Apollo and Jonathan. Apollo cannot wait to spring into his arms.

“I choose neither.”

“What!” Ned yells off camera.

“I’m sorry to both of you but I simply can’t. Jonathan, you’re a very nice man, but our connection is ultimately lacking. Apollo” Vincent meets his eyes and he forces his gaze to stay placid, “I care for you more than words can say. I know you’ve worked so very hard to change. I also know that people can easily revert to their old, cruel ways under pressure or difficulty. Marriage often involves those things, and I’m not sure you can be the man I need you to be. With those misgivings, it wouldn’t be fair to propose to either of you. I hope you understand.”

They both say the do, shake hands, give hugs. And he does, he truly does understand. He understands that Vincent made the choice he had to, that even though he got better he is still a rotten, cruel creature who doesn’t deserve him. He was taught he deserved the world; some good that did him. It lost him the only person who might make the world a less miserable place.

“Apollo!” Vincent jogs after him, catches up to him in an empty hall, “Apollo I-”

His heart is breaking; his old ways twine like vipers around it, “I, I’m glad you didn’t choose me you, you boring, pathetic man. No wonder you have to pay people to go on dates with you! I don’t need anyone, least of all you!”

Vincent steps back, face falling as Apollo storms off. The last thing he hears is, “And here I thought I made the wrong choice.”

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

He deletes his Instagram. Gets a job as a personal shopper. Goes to therapy because he will not let Indrid outshine him when it comes to unlearning how they were raised.

It helps. Three months after the disastrous finale (for him, not for the network) he’s feeling, if not better, like he might actually try dating someone soon. He also writes two apology letters; one to Indrid and one to Vincent. Then he tears them both up and just tells Indrid that he’s trying to be less of an asshole and that he’s sorry for all the time he was one. He leaves Vincent alone; if he doesn’t want to see him, the least he can do is respect that.

It’s migration season, so he’s hiding in his favorite, super-secret birdwatching spot. It’s near a pond, so lots of birds come to drink and bathe, and he’s seen several on his list.

Branches crack, sending nearby jays into a flap. Damn it, he’s never seen someone else here; the only person he ever told about it was-

“Hi, Apollo.”

“Vincent!” He almost falls off his stump, “how, why?”

“I’d been meaning to explore this spot ever since you spoke about it. But I, um, was also hoping I might see you in the process. Pathetic, as you might say.”

“I did, didn’t I.” Apollo stares up at him, clutching his binoculars so hard they might become disparate spyglasses, “Vincent, I am so, so, so very sorry for how I acted when we last saw each other. I was hurt, all I want is to make someone else hurt more so I stop feeling so vulnerable and powerless. I, I’ve been working on it in, in” he winces “therapy. You said once that you wanted to meet the man I might be. I realized I wanted to meet him to, to be him, not to win some show or even to get you to like me but just because I don’t want to be the other Apollo anymore.”

Vincent sits next to him, “You don’t give up, do you?”

“I, I just want to un-fuck what I can. I, how have you been?”

“Doing lots of thinking. I still know I made the right call not proposing during the finale. And that I’m ready to start dating again.”

“I hope whoever you go out with knows how lucky they are.” He says without any motive but the truth.

Vincent plucks a late-blooming wildflower and offers it to him, “It’s not a rose, but then again, this isn’t a proposal. It’s just a date, if you still want one.”

“So badly.”

The older man leans in, kissing him softly as his spine turns to soup, “I’m looking forward to meeting the, um, latest version of you.” He snickers at his own phrasing.

Apollo pulls him into a second kiss, “Me too.”

#bachelor au

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mismashedsocks · 4 years

Text

so riordan made a half assed lame excuse on his lazy/racist writing on piper yesterday and on top of that he made another one on samirah and i’m muslim so i am going to talk about it

damn i’m so sorry these people have been pushing you past your comfort zone about your wildly popular racist caricatures of minorities that have great impact on your young, impressionable target audience. while its fine that if he takes a break for his mental health he still needs to deal with these problems you can’t just take a break and hope they go away.

why does he think everyone is bullying him. if they talked in all caps, cussed at you, or didn’t stop bothering you, i’m sorry they’re just trying to get you to realize how racist your books are, which you keep refusing to believe. i can believe that a few of them were doing it for attention, but it couldn’t be the majority. and my god, god forbid people want you to write your books the way you preferred, without racist stereotypes. 🙈

you can set your boundaries but you keep ignoring the people, you don’t listen. like you put yourself out there as a writer you are open to criticism

why does he keep doing this to seem like the good guy. you give excuses and don’t do anything and just say that its up to you, you can think whatever you want 🥰🥰. like its such an obvious excuse not to take any action.

i’m sorry but no matter how many muslims you’ve interacted with you haven’t gotten the full experience and last time i checked teachers aren’t the kids best friends soo uhm. anyways the rest of it is just him telling his experience with muslimah students so its just there.

so uhm you just said your students ‘unwillingly’ become an ambassador to everyone she knew’. and then you went to talk to them about islam to make sure you were TEACHING THEM YOUR SOURCE MATERIAL CORRECTLY. i’m sorry imagine. these are kids not some scholars you go to consult. there are so many muslims all over the internet and youtube sharing their experiences for you to access on how to ‘represent their experience’ correctly. you’re the teacher here. picture this:as a muslilm, i teach at a public school and while teaching about Christianity in class, no i would double check or some dumb shit with the students. like educate yourself i’m sorry. anyways apparently he blames his mistakes on himself then goes on to deny he ever made any mistakes i can’t.

so this is a blatant lie. 99% of muslims i’ve met have never read all of sahih bukhari and sahih muslim. usually only scholars do that when they are studying islam for YEARS. and FIVE different interpretations of the quran on top of that. ok so sahih bukhari is 9 books that are over 300 pages each and sahih musilm is 7 volumes with also about 300+ pages each. and then the english versions of the quran are 600 pages. and he claims he read five of them. i’m so sorry but no he didn’t. he writes books so fast and he released mcga around the time toa was being released almost one book per year so he did not have a lot of spare time. the rest ig i can let slide. also and if he did do all of that why does he make so many mistakes in writing samirah. and even IF you accept his excuses reading ALL of this source material is great for teaching your class or whatever but not for writing a modern day muslim. you don’t need to lie to us rick ❤️

most of this is just describing what she’s like but his writing did also add in the model minority, smart kid trope. like no they don’t have to be a terrorist or a A+ student who is the best at everything. there is a middle ground to their personality.

i actually used to love his rep in sam. that’s how i got into the series. i saw a hijabi girl on his website. i got excited and read all of his books. i loved piper, leo, hazel, percy, annabeth, sadie, carter, nico, everyone. now that i look back i was younger and didn’t see anything wrong with it back then. its great that he tried to portray minorities but he did it so badly and now is just denying the faults that his now older readers are trying to tell him.

hey, uhm didn’t you read all of sahih bukhari and muslim? hmm i didn’t think so. anyways the way he dealt with it honestly wasn’t that bad. but the whole ‘whoops’. like why does he keep portraying himself as the innocent old white man just trying his best.

honestly how he wrote samirah as a hijabi was the dumbest thing i’ve ever read. its is totally fine if she wasn’t hijabi, many muslim girls aren’t, and that is their choice. but he decided to make her like a weird middle ground. it was so lazy and inconsistent. in the first book she says she wears it when she needs to, like in situations like going to the masjid. this was fine, since many muslim girls do that. then in the next books she wears it all the time except when she’s in valhalla for some reason. hijabi girls take of their scarves when they’re at home or with family, but making her claim the entirety of vallhalla as her family. that was just demeaning and stupid to me. it takes away its value. and i fucking hated that last sentence. for hijabis, their hijab is important and not a toy or weapon or a MAGIC ITEM. and then on top of that she would have to take it of to hide. he could’ve made it anything else. her hijab isn’t some token item istg.

i love how he admits that they are a big problem and abusive and usually engage with child marriages. i’m relatively he doesn’t understand what the people even meant by it. the practice is a problem that isn’t supposed to be seen in a nice light. the only possible way it could be slightly ok is that if ADULTS agree they 100% do not want to choose who they want to get married to and let their parents choose, and both sides agree. samirah was a child and he decided to make her wedding life decided since the age of 12. and it was ok because amir was conventionally attractive and she loved him. WHAT IF SHE DIDNT. this literally is a dangerous arranged marriage. and arranged marriages are not ok, and mostly perpetuated by victims of it who will end up passing it down their family lines. my parents got an arranged marriage and I HAVE NEVER SEEN THEM DISPLAY ANY SIGNS OF AFFECTION. arranged marriages are not a trope that your can turn around to be a quirky personality trait for your characters.

i’m sorry that’s not how arranged marriages work. most likely if she said something her grandparents would have shut her done and continued with the marriage, as that is what you usually happens. do not portray the small amount of consented, ‘happy’ arranged marriages as the majority. it is a huge problem that many desi/middle eastern cultures are trying to erase. even on top of that he writes situations where she’s going to be in trouble for acting up and ‘jeopardizing the marriage agreement’ and that her grandparents think she’s ‘lucky that she could get the fadlan family to agree to marry their son to her’. these statements are often used in forced and dangerous marriages, so don’t try and justify your actions. if you wanted to show traditional customs in a positive light, there are so many richer parts of samirah’s culture you could’ve focused on and you chose arranged marriage. 😻 all you’ve done is given parents and authority figures a westernized resource to justify arranged and forced marriages, especially with the minimal explanation on how the marriage isn’t forced in the actual books. and yes, your books do condone child marriage samirah is clearly deemed into this marriage ever since the young age of 12. she lived her life knowing she would marry amir. no one has only one crush throughout their life. imagine how she would’ve grown up. sorry you only consider opinions that align with those in you mind.

i’m going to be honest i did like that one scene it was written nicely and accurately but the explanation he gives just ruins the entire thing. the way he just if this strikes you as islamophobic, or samirah as a hurtful, uhm no explanation i just disagree 😽. the way you wrote her is a hurtful stereotype sorry you can’t see it.

oops, you did. too bad you don’t want to do anything about it.

why do you think people are painting you in a negative light, so many of your characters are written on hurtful and negative stereotypes. people aren’t painting it that way, you need to calm down w your ego and listen. dang i’m sorry your best is giving half-assed excuses and not actually doing anything. i’m even more sorry people are mad that a highly privileged author that has a lot of influence is done talking about his racist depictions of minorities in his books.

dang must be lucky to take a break from the social media, imagine what all the minorities you wrote about have to go with everyday weather they are on social media or not. people aren’t bullying you this is valid criticism you refuse to listen to.

fuck you

obviously these are my opinions do not judge every muslim based on what i’ve said come to me if you have a problem with it

anyways support jewish, muslim, black, brown, asian, hispanic, indigenous, lgbtq+, disabled, and other minority authors and creators.

#anti rr #fuck him at this point #samirah al abbas #she deserved so much better #i probably made so many spelling mistakes smh #long post #mcga #rr crit

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ryqoshay · 3 years

Text

How to Handle a Nico: Third Valentine’s

Primary Pairing: NicoMaki Words: ~2.2k Rating: G Time Frame: February of Maki’s 3rd year of high school and Nico’s 2nd year of college. Story Arc: Stand Alone

----------

Author’s Note: Cutting things a bit close this year. I really thought I would get more written/finished during the Maki banner event in SIFAS. Obviously, that didn’t happen. Que zura, zura.

----------

“Mmm… something smells wonderful.” A voice came from the entryway.

“Welcome home, Nozomi.” Nico called from her position at the stove.

“It’s almost a shame Elicchi and I already have plans tonight. You’ll save some leftovers for us, right?”

“Maybe, we’ll see.”

Nozomi giggled in response. A moment later, she rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. “Wow, that’ll be quite a spread.”

“Maki-chan is coming over.”

“I know.”

“Let me guess, the cards told you?”

Nozomi grinned. “I don’t need the cards to tell me when Maki-chan is coming over. Nicocchi does that well enough on her own.”

Nico rolled her eyes as she turned back to the stove.

“And is there a reason one such as Maki-chan is coming over to spend an evening such as this alone with Nicocchi?”

“You know why, Nozomi.” Nico couldn’t help a bit of bitterness in her tone.

“Yeah, I know.” Arms encircled Nico from behind. “And I believe she knows as well, even if she won’t admit it.”

“Yeah…” Nico sighed, relaxing into the embrace.

“But I have confidence that you two will figure things out soon.”

“I hope so.”

“You’ll be fine.” Nozomi assured. “These things can happen when dealing with someone so stubborn.”

“Well the fact that she’s spending time with me tonight of all nights has to at least mean something.”

“I wasn’t just talking about Maki-chan, you know.” Nozomi laughed as she let go. “Although, speaking of, I think she’s here.” The purple-haired girl scampered out of the room before Nico could reply. “Welcome, Maki-chan!” Nico could hear her announce at the front door.

“Hey, Nozomi.” Maki greeted in return. “Something smells wonderful in here.”

Nozomi laughed. “I said the same thing just a moment ago. Nicocchi is making something super special.”

“Hey, Nico-chan!” Maki greeted, far more cheerfully, Nico noted, as she entered the kitchen a moment later.

Nico turned toward the younger girl. “Welcome, Maki-chan.” She replied with a grin. “Do you mind setting the table? I’m almost done.”

Maki nodded and moved to the cupboards. “Uhm, two or four settings?” She asked.

“Just two.” Nozomi was the one to respond. “I’m headed to Elicchi’s once I change.”

“Alright.” Maki started gathering the needed items.

“So, we haven’t seen much of Maki-chan lately.” Nozomi commented as she leaned against the doorway.

“Yeah, I’ve been studying a lot for finals.”

“It is that time of year.” Nozomi agreed. “Are you anxious to join us in the college world?”

Maki chuckled. “Papa already found a dorm for me, though it’s a little farther from campus than I would have liked. This place is actually a couple stations closer.”

Nozomi laughed as well. “So, does that mean we’ll be seeing even more of Maki-chan in the coming months?”

“Maybe, if you don’t mind…”

“Of course not. As always, you’re welcome anytime.”

“Thank you.”

“Nicocchi always…”

“Don’t you have to get going soon?” Nico interrupted.

Nozomi laughed even more. “Right, right.”

“Oh, Nozomi,” Maki started, moving back toward the entryway where she had left her bag “take this with you tonight. It’s for you and Eli.” She held out a box of chocolates. “No caramels.”

“Thanks, Maki-chan.” Nozomi accepted the package. “They’ll make a good dessert later.” With that said, she turned and headed to her room.

As Nico gave a side glance toward Maki’s progress in setting the table, she noticed an extra bag next to the couch in the living room, besides her usual one for school. So, Maki intended to spend the night, again. It had become a common enough occurrence that she had all but stopped asking. Everyone was fairly open about their schedules, so it was no secret what nights would and wouldn’t work, not that there were many that didn’t work. Nozomi proudly and with good reason, boasted that their friends were welcome anytime and as far as Nico could remember, the majority of the issues in scheduling had been on Maki’s side of things.

However, tonight was different, at least from a social perspective. As Nico began the last phase of her meal preparations, she found herself wondering if Maki was aware of how some may interpret her behavior on a night like tonight.

Two individuals who shared a bond far closer than most friendships spending an evening alone together, enjoying a special, home cooked meal together, watching some cheesy romance movie together while cuddled on the… Well, no, they probably wouldn’t actually be cuddling, even if Nico knew she would be hard pressed to pass up the opportunity to at least lean against or put an arm around the girl on whom she had been crushing for years. If such an opportunity arose, of course.

In any case, after the movie, they could sit close enough to one another to share earbuds to listen to music together as they stu… Wait, no, that wasn’t right either. They didn’t actually have plans to study tonight, right? Surely even someone as socially oblivious as Maki wouldn’t insist on studying on a night like tonight, right?

And surely, even someone as romantically dense as Maki would realize the implications of everything going on tonight, right? Maybe?

Although, if Nico was being honest, she wasn’t entirely sure if she herself was ready for Maki to be ready. There was no question in her mind what she wanted, but as she had already excused and justified putting off doing anything about those desires for all this time, she couldn’t help continuing to do so. After all, there remained many complications for both of them.

Nico shook her head to clear it. Now wasn’t the time for such thoughts. Now was the time to enjoy a nice dinner and evening with her favoritest Maki-chan.

“Nico-chan?”

Oh, she must have seen me. “Nothing, Maki-chan.” Nico responded. “Nozomi was just teasing me earlier and I was just…” She made some exaggerated hand motions in lieu of having the proper words to describe the issue. While it wasn’t an outright lie, it wasn’t exactly the full truth either.

Thankfully, Maki’s light laughter seemed to indicate she understood what Nico was intending to convey. The future doctor was well aware of the spiritual girl’s antics, after all.

“I only tease you when you deserve it, Nicocchi.” Nozomi said, coming down the hallway. Nico was about to retort when she continued. “I’m out now. You two have a good night! Happy Valentine’s Day!” She slipped on her heels and was out the door before either of the remaining occupants could respond.

“Anyway…” Nico muttered, “where were we? How’s the table coming?”

“It’s ready.” Maki replied. “Anything else?”

“Nope, I’m done here too.” Nico slid the food out of the pan onto a serving dish. “You know, Nico has been eating a lot more tomatoes ever since she met Maki-chan.” She commented as she brought the food over to the table.

“Tomatoes are good though…” Maki’s tone bordered apologetic.

Nico laughed. “Yeah, Nico knows tomatoes are Maki-chan’s favorite. Maybe someday Nico will have to make an entire meal out of tomatoes…”

“An entire meal of tomatoes.” Maki was obviously intrigued by the idea.

“Yeah, like a full four course ordeal.” Nico thought aloud as she began serving, making sure to scoop up a few extra cherry tomato halves onto Maki’s plate. “Appetizer, salad, the easy part, a main course and dessert.”

“A tomato dessert?”

“Sure, why not?” Nico shrugged. “Tomatoes are technically a fruit, even if they aren’t always used as such. But some kinds are sweeter, and of course you can always add sugar. Surly, someone out there in the world has to have made something with them and posted the recipe online.”

“I’m sure whatever it is, it will be good if Nico-chan makes it.” Maki said with a smile.

“But of course!” Nico preened. “Nico is the No 1 Tomato Cook in the Universe!”

Maki rolled her eyes. “Idiot…” She said before chuckling.

“You like it.”

“Maybe… Probably…”

Well, that was a new addition to the tradition, though by no means an unwelcome one. Nico wondered for a moment if she were to just hack a tomato into wedges, splash it with olive oil and throw some salt on it if Maki would still drool over it simply because it was a tomato dish that Nico had made. Perhaps, to use her own words; maybe, probably.

Conversation remained lighthearted between the two girls as their meal progressed at a casual pace. Nico contented herself in watching Maki savor every bite, as had become one of her favorite pastimes over the last year or so. Still, despite their relaxed rate, the meal still seemed to reach its end far too soon as far as Nico was concerned. Then again, there was always dessert…

“Ne, Maki-chan.” Nico said, coming out of her bedroom as the redhead was busy settling down on the couch. The two had just finished cleaning up and were preparing for the rest of their evening together. “Happy Valentine’s Day!” She proclaimed proudly, presenting a pristine package.

Maki’s eyes lit up as she reached up to accept. “Thank you, Nico-chan. Can I open it now?”

“Of course.”

Maki immediately tore into the wrapping as though the present had been from a certain fanciful figure from a few months back.

“Nico-nii’s Super Special, Valentine’s Day Only Chocolates!” Nico announced as the box was revealed.

“With dried fruit?” Maki seemed to anticipate.

“But of course! It’s pretty much a tradition at this point.”

The cover was slid aside, a piece selected and bitten into. “Mmm…” Maki hummed her approval as she chewed. “I look forward to these every year.”

Nico grinned happily, though decided not to point out that this was only the third time she’d given Maki such chocolates. Apparently, that was all it took for the younger girl to be hooked. And that pleased Nico greatly.

“I’m glad you like them.”

Maki smiled as she snatched one more before closing the lid. “And in return…” She popped the second piece into her mouth before leaning over the arm of the couch to where she had set her bags earlier.

From her position, Nico couldn’t see, but she could hear the zipper being opened.

“Happy Valentine’s, Nico-chan.”

Nico had to blink to keep her eyes from bulging out of their sockets. By the gods, that was a massive package, easily half again the size as the one from last year. And it was also thicker, so probably a double layer, making it that much bigger. “T-thank you…” she had to put in conscious effort to avoid stuttering further.

“Everyone enjoyed them last time, right?” Maki asked, apparently sensing Nico’s hesitation.

“Everyone? Last time?”

“You shared them with your family last year, right?”

“Well, yeah, because there were so many…”

“So, now you can share even more?”

Something melted in Nico. This girl…

Nico set the partially opened package on the coffee table.

“Nico-chan?”

Without responding verbally, Nico knelt on the cushion beside Maki, turned, and wrapped her arms around her.

“Thank you.” Nico finally managed after a long moment of silence. “The kids will be thrilled.”

“You’re welcome.” Maki replied. “But, Nico-chan likes them too, right?”

Nico chuckled. “Of course, I like them. And getting them from Maki-chan is becoming a wonderful new tradition.”

“I’m glad.” Though she couldn’t see it, Nico could feel Maki’s smile as it moved her cheek against hers.

Nico took a deep breath and swallowed down what felt like tears that had started to bubble up. Slowly, she let go of the other girl and twisted down into a proper sitting position. Next, she leaned forward to retrieve the box and finish unwrapping it. Finally, following Maki’s behavior from moments ago, she slipped the cover open enough to grab two pieces. However, instead of eating both, she offered one to Maki.

“With this many, I can share with even more people.” Nico said with a smile.

Maki smiled in return as she took the offered chocolate.

“Now,” Nico grabbed the remote and turned on the television “let’s see what cheesy romance movies are playing.”

“Is that going to be our tradition now?” Maki’s tone was one of teasing.

“Sure, why not.” Nico shrugged. “And the cheesier the better, right?”

“I suppose.” Maki rolled her eyes but didn’t otherwise protest.

As Nico started browsing the menu on the screen, she realized she hadn’t taken her traditional, for lack of a better word, spot on the other end of the couch. However, Maki wasn’t pushing her away, nor was she leaning away, nor mentioning it any way. Perhaps she was fine with this arrangement? Certainly they sat close together when they shared headphones, but this was even closer.

Nico stole a quick glance at the girl beside her. There was no trace of red in the redhead’s cheeks, rather a simple, content smile as she read the titles on the scrolling list in front of them.

“Oh, how about that one?” Maki suddenly said, pointing. “With a title like that, it has to be cheesy.”

Nico looked back at the screen. “Yeah, it’s super cheesy, even by my standards.”

“The cheesier the better, right?”

“I suppose.” Nico followed Maki’s original response, earning laughter from the other girl. She then started the show and settled in for a cozy Valentine’s evening.

----------

Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #How to Handle a Nico #Love Live #fanfic #Happy Valentine's Day!

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lifeofroos · 3 years

Text

Part 38: I said Dio was the one who forgot about Tartarus, but it was me, Rose.

In short: Nico gets therapy from Dionysus. In this chapter, Nico has had yet another bad dream. The rest can be found on AO3 and FanFiction.net! Also in Tumblr tags like Nico di Angelo, Dionysus, therapy etc.

This Might Be Crazy: Chapter 38: Morpheus’ sleepy tea

‘Dionysu…’

��Did you have a nightmare again?’

‘What makes you think I did?’ I walked over to the couch in front of the hearth.

Dionysus glanced up at the clock. Half past two A.M. ‘Just a lucky guess.’

‘Of course. How lucky.’ I sat down next to him.

Dionysus snapped his fingers. A cup of tea appeared on the coffeetable. ‘This is Morpheus’ sleepy tea. It should be less intoxicating than Hypnos’ sleepy tea.’

‘And the god of intoxication can’t be sure of that?’

‘Tut tut.’ He made a second cup appear, with a weird, thick substance. ‘Now tell me about it.’

‘Well, in the dream I was in a green valley. Nice and all, until darkness began to cloud around me. I saw a couple of weird faces again, with horns and red eyes and stuff. I ended up in Tartarus and there the voices were louder than ever, pleading me to come, or else.’

Thoughtfully, Dionysus stared into his cup. ‘Was there more than one voice?’

‘Yes.’ I picked up my cup and held it against my stomach.

‘Okay. That might be important for later, but you don’t have to worry about it right now. What I think is more important is what you mean when you say Tartarus. You went there once, right?’

‘Yes.’ I looked into my cup.

‘I can only assume it was a horrifying ordeal.’

‘Yes, it was.’

He crossed his legs. ‘Can you describe to me what Tartarus looked like to you?’

I had not thought about how there might be different ways of seeing Tartarus. Now that Dionysus told me, it seemed only logical. ‘When I was there, it was very light, but dark at the same time. The ground was red, gray, brown and black. Every now and then, a monster materialised. There were a few dark rivers. Sometimes, they just appeared in front of me, even if they logically couldn’t run where they were running. Sometimes it seemed like I was walking through someones’ body.’ I sighed. It made stressed me out to think about Tartarus. ‘I only reached the doors of death after what felt like retreading the same ground over and over and over again.’ I shuddered. ‘It was positively horrific.’ I took a small sip of my tea, which made we me feel slightly better.

‘I reckon it was.’ Dionysus stared into the fire. The flames were reflected in his eyes.

I took a deep breath. ‘Whenever I think of Tartarus, I feel pure dread and emptiness. Going there was one of the worst experiences of my life. I could feel nothing but fear and misery when I was down there.’ My heart rate increased and my eyes were getting damp. Slowly, I took another sip of tea. ‘But I am also always reminded of the huge wave of relief that came over me when I was finally out of there. I still felt like like a smear on the pavement, or a broken house, but there was also so much relief. I was out there and I would make sure I would never go back. Never. Never.’ I shook my head. Never? You’ll come and stay forever. ‘Never! You must understand, never!’

‘Never. I understand.’ Dionysus took a sip of his weird sustance. ‘Do you think Tartarus is one of the main sources of your trauma?’

I shrugged. ‘Well, when I have a bad dream, it is either about losing Bianca or about Tartarus. Sometimes I get a vision of Tartarus, too. It became less when I learned how to manage my thoughts, but it is still one of the things that haunts me and the most prominent thing the voices taunt me with.’ Dionysus nodded. ‘I honestly can’t tell what I would do if it turns out that the voices really come out of Tartarus. I never want to go back there, but if there is no other choice…’ There isn’t.

‘We have to think about what we are going to do about the voices.’ He had been thinking about it before. I could see it. ‘Yet, Nico, you are not going back to Tartarus. I am not saying that because you do not want to. I am saying that because it would be one of the worst things you could do for you mental health. You hear me? You are not going back to Tartarus.’ His gaze got slightly darker. ‘I’ll take care of that myself if I have to.’

‘Yes, okay. Okay. I get it.’ I swiftly nodded a few times, to show that I got it.

Dionysus sighed. ‘Good. Now, it is of utmost importance that you get some proper sleep.’ He gestured at my teacup.

Like a good kid, I took a sip of the Morpheus tea. Then another one, and then I downed it all.

‘Yes. Like that.’

‘There is one more thing I wanted to say.’

‘There always is, but go ahead.’

‘While I was in Tartarus, I met Akhlys, the goddess of misery. After studying me, she told me I was perfect. That…’ I shrugged. ‘That is not a good sign, I think. Sometimes I wonder what she would say if I met her again. If she would still think about me that way. As perfectly miserable.’

Dionysus took a sip of his substance. A loud pop came from the fire. ‘You are more than just miserable these days. I think, if you met her again, she’d still see a struggling young man, yet part of that struggle would come from trying to get better. I reckon she would not like that, but I and your dad and Will Solace and the other people who matter certainly do.’

I smiled. ‘Thanks.’

‘You should really go to sleep now. Come, leave. I’ve got something important to think about.’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Quickly, I got up. Even though I had just spoken about one of the worst experiences of my life, I felt calm. I decided I liked Morpheus’ tea. It made you feel better without completely numbing your senses. Like it might be easier to fall asleep. ‘Eh… good night.’

‘Good night, Nico.’

When he was gone, Ariadne came back. ‘There is something on your mind.’

‘I think Nico might be getting visits from the Elder Gods.’

‘That is a bold statement.’ Ariadne sat down on the couch. Dionysus pulled her into a hug.

‘Hm. Could be worse. I have seen this problem before. Still, I want more information. Second, maybe even third opinions.’

She nodded. ‘I tend to assume you are correct on this subject. Maybe you can ask Hades for his thoughts on the matter.’

Dionysus pulled her even closer. ‘Right now I just need a hug.’

‘That I can take care of.’

A/N: My pillow is from a store called Morpheus. They sell beds.

I thought Morpheus was less powerful than Hypnos, but I could be wrong.

The next few chapters will be part of this Elder God arc. However, it won’t become some deep dark storyline. This story has always been more light-hearted or at least hopeful. It is a story about Nico’s recovery and I would not want it any other way. So, yes, there is something going on, but also yes, it can and will be taken care of.

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mochideleche · 4 years

Text

can’t keep away from fate | CH9

Pairing : Percy jackson x demigod!reader

summary : The daughter of destiny- literally, along with inevitability, compulsion and necessity. Being the child of a primordial goddess doesn’t really assure you a quiet, calm life but when you return to new york after five years of being shipped off to boarding school, your once mundane life says goodbye.

A/N thank you all for all the lovely support and messages, they honestly make my day uwu. Also! i’m so sorry for keeping you waiting but im giving myself a break from school work so here you go!

contents page

Normally percy would hate sleeping. As much as he needed it - which he found was very often these days, the nightmares were nothing to look forward to.

However these day, percy found a little enjoyment in them.

Sometimes he’d dream of kronos and his army, luke’s golden eyes, camp half blood but now he saw dreams of you.

It had been a few months since he’d seen you, since he kissed you- percy always relived the moment, snapping back to reality to find himself smiling like an idiot and flushing red, but his dreams were the only way he could see you.

Undoubtedly, Percy tried to iris message you, but to no avail, you’d never be reached or the line would go black every time it went through.

That worried him.

He’d brought it up to chiron the first time it happened, but chiron suggested that you were probably cutting the line of yourself- if luke had somehow got to interfere with the iris messages he’d figure out what you were doing.

Sometimes when percy made visits to camp he’d see new faces along with hearing about the heroic journeys the children had taken to get to camp along your side.

“She was so cool!” one of the kids who percy had asked about their arrival (obviously wanting to hear about you), “She fought off this army of half dog half seal men with just waving her hands!”

You had acquired a new nickname, ‘the guardian angel’ seeming the way you delivered demigod kids safely to camp so stealthily that they wouldn’t even had known it until the children popped up on half blood hill. Then you were gone without a trace again, off to find other demigods. It sometimes pained percy that you were frequently within reachable bounds to camp but he never got to see even a glimpse of you.

There were also rumours, which were most definitely true, about how luke’s ranks were decreasing in number- random disappearances, as nico di angelo had described them as, of your doing.

“I sensed her presence when i was in the forests of new jersey,” nico explained to the counsellors during one of their meetings, “along with about 2 dozen laistrygonian giants and by the time that i got there-” he clicked his fingers and scrunched his eyebrows in confusion “they were both gone”

Gosh somehow it made percy feel bad that all he could do was sit back and wait whilst you were out there surviving on your own and fighting monsters and saving children.

What a hero he was.

Yes, he was fated to fight with the titan lord but right now, he was busy fighting his math homework.

Percy stared dejectedly at his unfinished work, gods he missed you.

The way you’d laugh when he did something stupid, the way you smelt like magnolias, the way you would place your hands on his to comfort him and the way you seemed like nothing bothered you and how you say everything would always turn out right.

Percy definitely needed to be told that right now.

------

Whenever percy felt like he was done for, he’d think about you. Even if he did just see one of his friends sacrifice his life, had an arrow shot through his leg and was falling 20 feet towards a huge mass of water- he was able to keep himself just that little bit more hopeful by just thinking about you.

I need to see her again, Percy thought as he his collided with the water.

He blacked out and was immediately pulled into a dream.

He found himself on top of Mount Othrys in a greek pavilion of black marble that seemed to blend in with the shadows. Through the darkness he was able to make out two giant figures : one seemed to glow against the black walls of the building and the other seemed to melt into them.

“Quite an explosion” one remarked.

“it doesn’t matter, our army shall rise again to destroy the gods” the other snided.

“hm, quite so,” the other agreed calmly, “but the demigods are becoming more, diligent. First the disappearances of our troops and now the explosion, right in front of kronos’ nose, ha”

Percy’s heart dropped, he knew what was causing those disappearances- it was you. What if they find out it was you? what would they do? would they try and track you down? kidnap you?-

“This would have not happened if you would let me fight!” a voice shouted and percy realised that there were in fact three giants there, crouched below in the centre of the room under what percy thought to be a statue was the titan atlas.

he struggled under the weight of the sky, a swirling funnel cloud, but still managed to strain his voice to argue, “let me out! take my place!”

But before Percy could watch any further his dream shifted. The voices became quiet- they were distant, he was no longer standing in the greek pavilion but about 20 feet away, standing behind one of the supporting columns and beside nico di angelo.

The boy faced him, “You see percy, we’re running out of time, do you really think we can win without my plan?”

The fact that nico had seen him shocked percy enough but his message was more than enough to shake percy to try and wake himself up from his dream.

But the image began to fade and he found himself off of mount Othyrs and in a more flattened out land.

At first he thought he was in the forests of long island but he noticed the trees here were thicker, Their branches coming down lower than the ones around camp and the air was more chilly. This was not New York.

Percy tried to take in his surrounds then caught his breath.

There standing behind a large oak tree was a petite girl with her long hair flowing down her back, wearing an army jacket and black ripped jeans and holding out two long drakon bone swords.

You looked distressed. Your face was pulled into a slight scowl as you peered around the tree and into the forest behind you. Percy knew you were in some sort of trouble but he couldn’t help but smile.

But the smile quickly disappeared when an arrow shot out of nowhere and embedded itself in the oak tree you were standing behind.

You broke out into a run and percy followed in suit.

Unknowingly, percy reached into his pocket and pulled out riptide, his first instinct was to fight whatever wanted to hurt you but he quickly realised that there wasn’t much he could do so could only keep up pace beside you.

Most dreams you were in seemed heavenly to percy, but this was a nightmare.

Seeing you need his help but not being able to do anything killed percy. Of course he had no doubt that you could handle anything by yourself, but then again, you wouldn’t be running away if you could.

Despite not actually running percy found that he was becoming short of breath, you were an awfully fast runner.

“Percy you’ve done so well, but I think it’s time you woke up”

Percy’s head snapped towards you. you were staring right at him.

You glanced away momentarily to keep track of where you were going before placing your gaze on him again, “I miss you”

Percy was at a lost for words. Months he’s spent trying to contact you, dreamt of you, trying to reach out to you and now, when time was limited, you had answered him and not only that, you were telling him to go away.

“Y/N-” but the scene began to fade and percy panicked, why of all times he had to start waking up now?

He felt himself began to slip into consciousness but he stubbornly did his best to try to go back to sleep.

but alas, your soft smile disappeared along with the dream as percy’s eyes shot open.

----

Percy didn’t think things would go so downhill. If anyone told him that the highlight of his week would be a midnight panic with a goddess, the son of hades and a hell hound, he’d pretty much expect it.

As he sat down by the magical fire, he got some time to think.

After being told that he’d end up dying either way and committing to a plan that would probably speed up the process, he was pretty miserable.

“things will only turn out that way if you think they will”

Your voice echoed in percy’s head, it had become a sort of habit every time he found himself thinking negatively.

Yeah but it’s in the prophecy princess, i die no matter how positively I think.

Then a sudden pain stabbed percy in the heart, If he didn’t survive nico’s plan he wasn’t going to see you again.

He was hoping some how you’d turn up in the next few days, (after nico assured him that you in fact were still alive and he had not felt your death- but that only gave percy temporary relief) He knew there just had to be a way he would see you before his destined fight, you were the daughter of fate after all- maybe you had to like... force great prophecies like this...? it was ridiculous but thoughts like this made percy hopeful.

“you are distressed” Hesita commented and percy was worried that she could read his thoughts.

“the time will come and you will know what the right decision is” the goddess said vaguely

“Uh, thanks” Percy nodded, not knowing what else to say and the goddess return to attending the hearth, why couldn’t gods ever speak plain english?

----

Percy had been to the underworld when he was 12. It was a long, tiring trip that took them to los Angeles and had nearly killed him bout 7 times. And only now did he find out about an entrance to hell which was literally 20 minutes away from his house- brilliant.

the stairs to hell were exactly how percy imagined them, dark, slippery and narrow. The only way he could actually see was by the light of his sword and the fact that mrs o’leary bounding down the stairs noisily reassured him that the stairs didn't end in a great drop to an endless pit to Tartarus.

Nico lagged behind, a look of doubt evident of his face.

“You alright?” percy dared to ask, hoping the boy wouldn't become defensive at the question.

Nico nodded, but opened his mouth to say something, “i saw her you know”

Percy stopped, saw who? he thought for a quick second then immediately knew nico meant you.

By this point nico had caught up with percy and stood just two steps behind him, “ She- when we first met she offered me the keys to her apartment”

“She what?” Percy interrupted, too surprised not to. he knew that you owned an apartment in Queens- a gift from your father for when you stayed in New York, and he knew that whatever you and nico had talked about had stayed between the two of you, but this? Why didn’t he get keys to your apartment?

Nico turned away to avoid eye contact, percy realised he must have been staring at him hard and tried to change his expression

“She told me that i could stay there anytime if i needed it. I wasn’t going to step near that place at all. But one night i got into an argument with my father and had nowhere else to go...”

Nico trailed off and percy was worried that he was beginning to back track on himself and regret ever saying anything to Percy, but thankfully after a deep inhale of breath, he continued.

“I was only planning to stay there for a few hours, but it just so happened she was there too. She was asleep but it seemed like she was having a bad dream. kept murmuring things-”

Nico shuddered, “I woke her up in the end and asked her about it but she shook it off. Moved the subject onto the fact that i had actually taken up her offer and decided to make me dinner. What she said though- it, it seemed important”

“What did she say?” percy asked, if nico was scared then he knew this was serious.

“Something about to storm or fire the world must fall”

Percy looked up at nico’s face, he seemed as disturbed as he was back at mrs castellan’s house. Panic rose up within percy.

“It’s probably nothing though” nico shrugged but percy could tell that he didn’t mean it at all, but despite that nico walked past percy and continued down the stairs, “we should hurry up, we’re losing valuable time”

Percy had no other option but to follow and wonder, why did nico chose to bring this up now?

.....

“Percy!”

before he was fully awake, percy had reached out and pinned nico to the floor with his sword pressed against his neck.

“we-have-to-get-out-of-here” nico struggled.

“Oh yeah? and why should i trust you?” percy growled, pressing down harder.

“No-other-choice?”

Percy rolled his eyes, he really did have no other choice.

He stood up as nico curled to the side and retched up for air. Percy would’ve almost felt sorry for him if he hadn’t just betrayed him to his father.

“Does your dad want to ‘talk’ again?” Percy seethed and nico sat himself up.

“honestly percy i had no idea, he tricked me!”

“You know what your dad is like!”

“Yeah but-” nico paused and stood up, quickly realising that there was no point in reasoning, “If we don't hurry, we’ll never get out”

Percy nodded once and allowed nico to take the lead as they plunged into darkness.

by the time the two of them had reached an exit via the palace kitchen, percy was half dragging, half carrying nico who spent every other minute pointing at skeleton guards or zombie servants and knocking them out before they could think about stopping the two escape.

Problem was, nico was going to be knocked out pretty soon too.

“Stop that” Percy said, “your power drains you too much”

by this time nicos legs stopped working all together and percy had no choice but to swing the younger boy over his shoulder.

“With great power,” nico said drowsily, “comes great need to take a nap”

Then the sound of a great gong echoed throughout the building.

“Alarms” nico said drowsily from behind percy, “Mrs O’leary”

“Right” percy said, and whistled.

Mrs O’leary came bounding across the fields of asphodel, probably excited to be back in her own grounds, and circled percy who desperately tired to throw nico onto her back.

“Hey, girl, think you can get us to the river styx?” Percy asked as calmly as possible, despite the sounds of a thousand skeletons footsteps coming their way.

Mrs o’leary barked in response and bounded off into the fields.

On approaching the river bank, Percy force fed Nico some ambrosia. He was scared that he had given him too much but the boy was knocked out pretty good. But after a few shakes of his head, nico was steady enough to stand on his own two feet.

the two boys slid off Mrs O’Leary’s back and ran towards the river.

“Percy you need to prepare yourself” nico said cautiously, causing percy’s stride to slow.

“How do I do that?” Percy asked and nico shook his head.

“You know I don’t think this is a good idea-”

“What?! this was your plan in the first place!”

“Yeah but-” nico seemed to struggle for words but exhaled as if he was angry and shook off his previous statement, “Think of a point on your body which will tie you back to reality and don't stop thinking about it otherwise the river will burn you to ashes, okay?”

“You know what maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all-”

“Percy!”

“Right right,” percy defended, inching closer towards the river.

at first when he nico had proposed the idea, percy had a long think of where the point would be. Somewhere difficult to reach during combat, maybe his armpit? but then he decided he wanted it to be somewhere more dignified.

he hadn’t thought on the matter since then, which was pretty stupid since the decision could possibly end or save his life but as his foot touched the river he knew exactly where he wanted it.

Percy wanted to walk cooly into the river, but as soon as the water touched his legs, his muscles went numb and he fell face flat into the water.

Then he stopped breathing.

It was terrible, this was the first time he struggled to breath underwater and the thought terrified him. images from the past few days flashed before his eyes in the darkness, beckendorf, rachel, grover and even lukes golden eyes.

instead of resulting to panic, percy kept thinking of that point, the one point where his life would end in a single blow, thinking about how that was his connection to the living world.

“You alright?” you said suddenly as you came to stand next to percy.

Percy jumped, he hadn’t heard you or sensed you coming up behind him, (although you were getting better at hiding you presence) and he flashed you a smile, “Yeah, just thinking”

“About what?” you asked calmly.

He stared at your face, it was always so stoic, as if you couldn’t care less about what he said but he knew that you genuinely cared for his happiness as much as your own.

“You”

Your eyes widened as you turned away but percy was able to catch that small flash of blush before you did, “shut up”

percy laughed, a genuine laugh that came from his stomach, you were just so damn cute.

he wasn’t exactly thinking of you, so to say, he was thinking about you amongst other things such as how to kill kronos, how to become better at sword fighting, how to do question five on his trig homework.

He faced the river again so that you would turn back towards him, which worked- of course.

“Stop being so sad all the time will you?” you said light heartedly as you tapped percy on the small of his back, “you being sad makes me sad too just so you know, so stop it” and you began to jog past him towards the surf.

percy struggled, trying to win the fight against the current but there was no use. He felt his arms and legs disintegrating and his soul felt like it was being ripped from his body.

he thrashed around in the coldness trying to reach for the surface and trying his best to keep thinking of his mortal point,

percy was on his last class of the day, he had set them a few drills to practice for the second half of the hour and was watching them with tired eyes. all he wanted to do was sleep.

suddenly he felt a little poke on his back, at the bottom of his spine.

“They’re doing well, aren't they?”

Percy craned his neck to face you, your head tilted slightly to be able to see past his shoulders, your hands still rested just above his hips.

“of course, i taught them” percy scoffed

“and so did i” you countered, “and just for your information, they enjoy my lessons better”

“Who says?” percy laughed, uncrossing his arms and fully turning his body to face you.

“I do” you smiled, making percy’s knees go weak.

Percy tried to push his way to the surface but it was no use, the more he moved, the faster he sunk. This is it, he thought, i’m going to burn alive in hell.

“Sleeping again jackson?”

immediately your fingers tapped the small of percy’s back and he peeled open one eye to see your figure silhouetted against the shine of the sun.

He had taken a nap on the deck, laying on his stomach, one arm under his face and the other hanging off the edge of the deck, and you were currently crouched down with a mocking smile on your face.

“yes, and you're disturbing me” he slurred out and he turned his face to the other side.

“Oh i wouldn’t say this is distracting” you joked, “this is”

And you pushed percy into the water.

Suddenly percy felt a tug at the bottom of his spine and he began to make his way to the surface. it was as if there was a bungee cord attached to the small of his back, pulling him back to the shore. he ignored the searing pain in his lungs, arms and legs and kept his focus on his mortal point.

think of the small of your back, small of your back, small of your back...

he did his best to look up and through the darkness he could make an outline of a hand, reaching in to help him out.

“oh gods i’m so sorry, i didn’t know you’d be that off guard! now take my hand you idiot”

percy reached out to grab your hand.

He sputtered as air returned its way back into his lungs and he landed on the shore of the beach, but the sand felt more solid, oddly shaped, just like-

“Percy get off me! you’re heavy!”

Percy pushed himself up and stared down at nico who was red in the face and soaking wet too,

“S-sorry dude-” Percy stuttered, did he really just imagine nico was you?

He got to his feet then held his hand out to nico who ignored it and pushed himself up, was he really that angry that percy had squashed him?

“Uh- did it work?” Percy asked tentatively, scared that nico was more than just pissed.

“I have no idea” nico responded, sounding surprisingly bitter, “feel different?”

“Not really” percy said slowly, but before he could apologise again for landing on nico a harsh voice shouted in the distance “THERE!”

The two boys’ head snapped to the top of the hill where about a hundred skeleton soldiers stood, weapons raised and all- eyes? they didn’t have eyes, all heads, faced towards them.

Hades stood in his chariot, dressed in battle gear, his nightmare horses skittering on the ground as if they were eager to stampede over percy’s body, “You will not escape this time jackson, DESTROY HIM”

“father no!” nico exclaimed but a line of british red coat skeletons charged with their rifles aimed.

Mrs o’leary did not hesitate to pounce at them and that tiggered percy.

He didn’t want his dog getting hurt just because hades was being a dick, and he charged without any other thought.

If he was going to die, he wanted to die fighting.

Percy was reckless, but this? this was a whole other level, damn- even another building. He charged straight through their lines, slashing his sword, not even thinking about where to strike but just did.

Bullets? didn't hit him. Swords? couldn’t cut him. Clubs? couldn’t even get an inch near him. (Hotel? Trivago.)

He’d successfully tore his way through the ranks and pounced right over hades’ horses and grabbed the god by his collar and pinned him to the ground.

Silence.

Percy was expecting skeletal hands to come down on him but as he looked around, there was nothing there- they were all gone.

“listen here jackson...” the god said.

“No you listen!” percy growled, “tell me about the trap!”

but the god just snarled and melted into darkness, leaving percy’s hands closed around nothing.

“You killed them all...” nico said dazed, breaking percy out of his cursing spree.

Percy stopped and looked around him, there was nothing apart from the three of them, a bunch of bones and a variety of weapons.

“I guess it worked then” percy offered.

“Oh gee” nico said sarcastically, “you think?”

the two of them stood silent momentarily and percy stared at nico.

He’d come a long way from where he began, and percy still felt like that it was his fault that nico became so bitter.

“You should go back to your father” percy started.

Nico looked shocked to hear this, “no, I want to fight-”

“You’ll be better off down here” Percy said, the harshness in his voice surprising even him.

the look of hurt on nicos face made him feel guilty, “I mean, we need your father to fight on our side, you’re the only one who can convince him” percy continued, trying to sound kinder.

“You don’t trust me anymore, do you?” nico said dejectedly.

Percy was shocked, did he trust him?

“Work on him. I know you can do it”

Percy couldn’t help but notice how nicos face lit up slightly after hearing him, “thanks but don't get your hopes up”

“Okay, I’ll see you for the battle, me and Mrs O’leary will head up now” Percy said, waving over his hell hound.

“Where are you going?” nico asked, tilting his head as percy jumped on Mrs O’leary’s back.

Percy smirked, “to start a war”

#Percy #percy jackson #PERCY JACKSON SERIES #percy jackson fanfiction #percy fanfiction #The Heroes of Olympus #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #the heroes of olympus fan fic #Percy Jackson imagine #percy jackson fandom #percy jackson fanfic

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blueroseblaze · 5 years

Text

Question (Nero x Reader)

Request: No

Word count: 2289

Warnings: Reference to sex

Nero had pumped the breaks on the van, causing it to roll to a steady stop. He put the van in park but didn’t turn off the ignition right away, letting the engine purr and the headlights illuminate ahead for just a bit longer. He leaned back in his seat and looked out the windshield.

Nero had driven you both out of the city, not too far, but far enough that the concrete jungle had disappeared behind you. It wasn’t uncommon for calls to come from outside the city, for you to climb in and go for a road trip to the mountains to take care of a particularly nasty demon. And you liked it out there. It was quiet, tranquil, freeing. You wished you could stay out of the city longer.

He had taken you to a certain spot, a lovers lane like road that allowed you to look at the beautiful ocean of lights radiating from the cityscape. You had forgotten about rampages of hell beasts that plagued the city from time to time. From this spot you couldn’t hear the screams or the violence.

He had switched off the van’s engine but left the battery on, so the radio lights still lit up the dashboard. You let the stillness and darkness inside the vehicle embrace you both. While you had no idea what you were doing here, you had to admit it was comfortable, being with Nero sitting in silence. It reminded you of the quiet evenings where you would both just lie in bed together and listen to whatever music you felt like listening to, maybe swapping some stories or jokes too.

But eventually you had to cave.

“Okay, I give up,” you said, “What are we doing here?”

Nero smirked and turned his eyes away from the windshield to look at you.

“Can’t I spend some alone time with the person I love?” He asked.

“Yes, you can. But we normally just hang out in your room. It feels like your planning something and you’re not one to do grand romantic gestures.”

Nero placed his devil breaker on his chest, clutching at his shirt and feigning shock and horror. He wore an overly dramatic look on his face and sucked in a theatrical gasp.

“Why my lady, you wound me!” he cried in an over the top posh accent.

You laughed and reached over to slug him in the arm playfully, he dropped his act and laughed along with you. Your laughter died down and before the silence could turn awkward, Nero reached out and tuned the radio to a slow rock station, he turned the volume down until it the acoustic guitar chords were just background noise. You listened to the lyrics as the artist sang about someone so beautiful, they couldn’t even describe it coherently. You looked at Nero, who swayed his head to the slow rhythm, a soft smile gracing his perfect face. You couldn’t help but smile too.

“I like this song,” he said, his voice hoarse and low, as if he spoke the words before his brain could even produce them.

“Yeah?” you asked. Nero’s tastes normally didn’t run towards sappy love ballads.

“Yeah,” he replied, “It makes me think of you.”

You felt you cheeks heat up and you turned away from him to hide your surprised expression. You reached up and nervously played with your hair, the same way Nero would scratch at his nose when he was nervous or acting shy.

“I think you’re beautiful, (Y/N),” he said. His voice held a matter of fact tone to it, like there was no debate or hint of irony in what he said, yet when you heard it you could feel all the love he felt in his words. You rubbed the back of your neck as you forced yourself to look at him. He was smiling at you, clearly amused by your shyness, but also enamored by you. It was amazing to you how much you could mutually love someone yet still act like a shy lovestruck teenager.

A few more moments of quiet went by, the only sound filling the van was the radio. You felt the cool metal of Nero’s devil breaker caressing the back of your hand to gain your full attention.

“(Y/N), look at me,” he said a tiny bit more stern, just to let you know he really wanted your full attention.

You were finally able to look him in the eyes and you were immediately lost in the beautiful blue irises. When you made eye contact, he seemed to lose all confidence. As he stared into your eyes, every self-assured organized thought seemed to melt together in his head, creating a jumble of emotional sentence fragments barely able to describe how he really felt.

You smiled as he began to stutter through his words. You could see in his face that he was so prepared, so ready to spill what he was feeling. You felt sympathy at the frustrated expression that appeared on his face as you reached to grip the devil breaker in your hand. He froze as he felt you grip his hand and looked back to you. With the opportunity open you seized his face in both your hands and brought him in for a kiss.

Though you had closed your eyes you could sense Nero’s were the size of dinner plate. He stayed stock still as you initiated, moving you lips against his. Eventually he relented. You could feel his whole body relax as he began to kiss you back, his lips moved against yours, opening and closing as he poked out his tongue to tease your lips.

He moved his hands up your arms, pulling you closer to him. Although it was awkward with the open space between the front seats. He did let that stop him, as he blindly reached for your seat belt buckle and loosening it. With your upper body freed he was able to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you close, almost sitting in his lap. His mouth never left yours, your lips still dancing together in a sensual harmony as both your bodies began to heat up. His tongue fought against yours and neither of you could help the soft moans that escaped you.

You removed one of your hands from his face and moved it to tug down at his shirt, your finger twisting around his necklace. Unsatisfied with the progress there you moved your hand to underneath his coat, resting it on his shoulder briefly before trying to push it off his body.

You felt Nero smiled against your mouth and give a breathy chuckled when he realized what you were trying to do. He pulled his lips away from your, but he didn’t pull away entirely. His nose still brushed against your and pressed your foreheads together, eyes perfectly at level.

“Do you remember how pissed Nico was when she found out what we did in the back a few months ago?” he asked smugly and slightly out of breath from the kiss.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his question as you remembered Nico finding an abandoned pair of panties on the floor of the van along with a few condom wrappers. Nero – being the cheeky little shit he was – tried to pocket your underwear as a sort of trophy, much to your annoyance, only to have them fall out of his jacket pocket when you two dressed and left the van. You both thought you had been so sneaky. Eventually Nico found out and forbade sex in the van from that day onward.

“Yes,” you replied.

“Maybe we shouldn’t incur her wrath again,” he said, “Besides, that’s not why I drove you out here.”

“Did you finally realize I was an undercover demon and we’re here for you to shoot me under cover of night?” you joked.

Nero laughed again as he pulled you in tighter and lounged against his seat. Not the most comfortable position in the world but as you rested your head against his shoulder you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Don’t joke like that,” he chastised.

“Then why are we here?” you asked.

Nero took a deep breath as he looked around the van again, you could tell he was trying really hard not to lose his cool again.

“(Y/N),” he started, “We’ve been together for a long time and we’ve been through a lot. At first, I didn’t think anyone would want to put up with the shit I do but you not only put up with it but you’re actively a part of it. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He paused for a moment, but you didn’t say a word.

“And I’m glad that you’re in my life,” he continued, “And I’m glad I’m in yours, and there’s only one way I can think of to really make sure it stays that way.”

You looked at him incredulously, wondering where he was going with this.

He gestured his head toward the passenger side, and you followed his gaze.

“Open the glove compartment,” he said.

You separated from him and settled back into your seat to reach for the glove compartment. You opened it and stared into the piled of papers and trinkets that were thrown in there over time. You began to rifle through the junk as you felt Nero’s eyes on you.

“What am I looking for?” you asked still raking through the expired vehicle registrations.

“You’ll know…” he said cryptically.

You rolled your eyes at his response and continued digging. After pushing away more junk you felt your fingers brush against a small velvet object. You grabbed it and pulled out the little thing. You looked at what you soon realized was a small box. You held it with both hands as the realization slowly set in. You looked to Nero, who silently urged you to open it.

Almost shakenly, you opened the hinged box and gasped when you saw the silver banded ring inside. You instantly recognized the ring in the box. It was one of Nero’s old silver rings that he had stopped wearing a while ago. When you had asked what had happened to it, he brushed you off and said it was damaged and he took it to a shop to repair it.

Even though you knew it was his it was wildly different. The Order insignia was gone, shaves off and replaces with an intricate carving that expanded all over the band. Gracing the top was a milky white gemstone. You had no idea what it was. A quartz, maybe opal? You didn’t know but you didn’t care either. You marveled at how the stone shined even in the dim light.

You peeled your eyes away from the box and back to Nero, who you realized was staring at you this entire time. He had a genuinely sweet smile on his face and an overall expectant look with a hint of concern and anxiousness.

“You like it?” he asked, “I was worried that just changing the size of one of my own rings was just cheap, so I wanted to make it extra special.”

You said nothing, still speechless as the conclusions you made in your head started to become vindicated.

“Try it on,” Nero urged.

With shaking hands, you carefully pulled the ring out of the box and slipped it on your left ring finger. It fit perfectly and gave you the opportunity to really admire the ring. You could even see the cut lines where the ring was resized.

You were too busy marveling at the ring to notice Nero slip his left hand around yours. The warmth of his real hand in yours finally made you break, and you felt tears prickle at the corners of you eyes. Nero wrapped his other hand around your, encasing your hand in the warm embrace of his. His fingers squeezed your hand tightly as you looked into his eyes again.

“You were right,” he said, “I’m not one for grand sweeping gestures, so I won’t go on a huge speech again. I just have one question.”

All you could do was nod your head slightly.

“(Y/N), will you marry me?”

You felt the tears finally roll down your cheeks as you lunged at him from your seat, locking your arms around his neck sending his back into the drivers side door. You happily sobbed into his neck repeating, “yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” over and over again.

Nero laughed out loud at your response and returned your embrace, wrapping both his arms around your back, holding you tightly to his chest. He hugged you while planting kisses all over the side of your neck and your cheek. He rocked you both back and forth as you continued laughing and crying with joy.

Soon you pulled away, your cheeks still hurting from smiling so hard and wet from your happy tears. You leaned into Nero’s hand when he reached to wipe them away with his thumb. Only for him to pull you into another kiss, this one more chaste and quick but still just as passionate.

You smiled at each other, both of you admiring the others beauty.

After what felt like an eternity going by in seconds, Nero settled back into his seat and you into yours. You leaned over resting your head on his shoulder as he restarted the ignition and put the van into reverse. He stroked your hair as the two of you pulled away from your spot and started the drive back home. Both of you smiling like dope the whole way.

A/N: So pretty much everyone wanted to see the fluff when I asked what people wanted to see. Might make a part 2 if people like this one but we’ll see. Hope you all liked it, I know its a little long but I’m a stickler for details. Thanks for reading and I love and appreciate feedback :)

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc 5 #devil may cry 5 #dmc 4 #Devil May Cry 4 #nero #dmc nero #nero x reader #dmc nero x reader #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #dmc fanfiction #devil may cry fanfic #my post #my fanfiction

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toonstarterz · 5 years

Text

BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #164

Hey, not dropping the ball actually worked!

We’re just a hair’s length away from summer vacation, but unlike last year when Tomoko approached summer with not much consideration, she’s now taking a proactive role in deciding how to spend her last summer in high school. At first glance, Tomoko appears to have become a responsible, young lady. But as we soon will see, that can-do attitude may not be as refined as it looks on the surface.

Chapter 164: Because I’m Not Popular, I’ll Do My Best Starting From Summer Break

There’s that time period during the day when most students have already left but school hasn't quite closed up. It’s pretty creepy, even more so before summer break when you’re expected not to stick around.

Have I mentioned Itou is a cute? ‘Cause she is.

It’s usually her looking after Komiyama, so it’s really sweet to see the dynamic flipped around like this. Despite, well, everything, Komiyama is a good friend.

Assuming that cheering for the baseball teams is optional, it’s endearing to see Itou go through with it. Even though baseball isn’t her thing, she’s likely doing it to support her bestie, which I can 110% get behind.

Ah, right. Dude’s in the manga club. That said, I wonder if their plans are for just being attendees, or if they’ll actually be manning a booth and selling their work. With his skills and, er, preferences, I think Hatsushiba could do the latter.

Don’t be so modest, Tomoko. There’s no slouching either when you’re a three-year veteran of the Going-Home Club.

Studying during summer break? Outrageous!!

It’s intriguing to see just how Tomoko’s study habits have evolved throughout the series. The early days would see her spend summer goofing off on her hobbies, with bare minimum concern for academics. But now, Tomoko is actually considering studying on her own accord. Sure, it’s more-or-less a fallback when she has nothing else planned, but the thought itself is still worth mentioning.

Is that one of those mini-fans that you can carry around in your bag? I love those things.

Study camp, huh? Any other day, Tomoko would be apathetic to the idea, leaning more on the side of brushing it off. But having Katou bring it up makes all the difference, ‘cause let’s be real. Katou could ask her to sign up for a hostess bar at the Red Light District and Tomoko would still seriously consider it.

Miss you, Yuu-chan.

I second that, Komi. Fourteen hours of studying a day is brutal, even if that’s to be expected in what is essentially a boot camp. I’ve always questioned the efficiency of cram schools and the like, mostly because they seem to prepare more for short-term memorization than long-term understanding. But even it actually works in principle...

...I’m not sure Tomoko will be able to handle it.

Perhaps it’s just me, but it feels like Tomoko is overestimating her discipline for studying. She already struggled with Katou’s flashcards and study sessions that a whole training camp feels like it would have a more detrimental effect on Tomoko than a positive one. “Work hard, play hard” was never meant to be that extreme, Tomoko.

That’s...genuinely uplighting. Tomoko has missed out on several of the key “memorable” high school moments, and she usually lets it go with only mild regrets. But here, Tomoko’s actively trying to gain what she once lost. Sure, she’s trying to “game the social system” a little, but what did you expect? She’s a person, not a saint.

This was Yuu’s only line in this entire chapter. My girl deserves more than this.

Will the 2% of Tomoko’s personality that is tsundere ever realize that if you really “didn’t care either way”, then you wouldn’t have asked the question to begin with? Doubt it.

That romaji tho.

It comes to the surprise of absolutely no one that Komiyama has some pretty...vivid fantasies about Tomoki. But what stands out to me is how deep into the relationship her thoughts go. Most people fantasize about their crush first in their sexual attractiveness, but only a few ever dream beyond that. Ironically, you know your crushing has gone off the deep end if you start thinking about them in domestic, SFW ways. Least Komi’s committed, yeah?

Gee, I wonder what’s that “and stuff” Tomoko’s talking about?masturbating

Nothing like a fresh bowl of Grossi-Os and Gross Juice to start the day!

If what Yuri says is true, then that would mean that she and Ucchi have probably walked to school together several times before–more than the couple of times we’ve seen, at least. And even so, it doesn’t look like they haven’t gotten much closer as friends, if at all. Some people just don’t click, I suppose.

Not sure how blind Ucchi is because anybody with a pair of eyes (beady or not) would see that Yuri has friends, even if you only count Mako. Poor girl just can’t accept the truth even when it's right in front of her face.

Ah, Yuri. Why can’t you just drop the “savior” act and just admit you want to spend time with her?

I’m inclined to agree about Yoshida, but who knows? She’s surprised us before. Mako's a safe bet, though. Especially if the former’s going. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Boy, does that take me back. It still blows my mind that all of Ucchi’s problems originated from one night of misunderstandings. The art nerd in me really appreciates the subtle improvement in Niko’s art style. The character models feel “weightier” and more consistent without compromising the stylization.

You don’t see it in the previous panel, but Ucchi was totally blushing at the prospect of reliving her trauma/dream. Perhaps she was also looking to live out that ping pong match she never got.

I’m not sure if there was some kind of wordplay in the original text. Either way, it kind of sucks for Yuu-chan that she got such a “flattering” nickname when she wasn’t involved in that scenario whatsoever. Though it sure is a tad classier than Miss Akari “Dick Sister Jr.’ Iguchi.

It’s kind of (read: absolutely) frightening how Katou’s envy towards Yuu feels a lot more intense than Yuri’s. Perhaps it’s because Yuri’s so transparent that you know how to deal with her. But with Katou, that air of secrecy feels like a nuclear bomb about to go off.

I always wondered where girls picked up that thing where they intertwine their fingers as a sign of affection. It’s precious.

Praise modern technology for convenient storytelling.

Wow, Fuuka’s already made her mark on Tomoko’s “bitch” list. Though exactly why she’s on that list now is kind of odd. I mean, yeah, she asked Tomoko about the whole fondling thing, and she unintentionally presented herself as a pervert for the whole “hair” thing, but Fuuka hasn’t really done anything all that terrible. If anything, Tomoko is probably expressing a rare bit of jealousy towards someone else supposedly perving on Katou besides her.

The most striking part about Fuuka’s inevitably failed plan is that she describes Tomoko’s appearance as “sudden”. It was touched on before, but it further emphasizes that Tomoko’s friendship with Katou was just as unexpectedly quick in-universe as it was for the readers. And in doing so, it brings us one step closer to the real mystery over why Katou is so enamored with Tomoko in the first place.

Ya’ll know Sayaka’s got her homegirl’s back on this one. Let’s see (hopefully) how Akari screws it up.

Chapter 58, mothereffers!

I don’t know whether I’d say Nico Tanigawa has been playing the long game, or if they just found a convenient throwaway to capitalize on. But the acknowledgment itself is very much appreciated. Tomoko may have forgotten, naturally, but us overzealous fans certainly never did!

The chills, man. Chill’s right up the spine.

It’s certainly true that Tomoko’s words can be interpreted in a good or bad way, so it’s pretty telling that Katou’s gut reaction went for the latter. It suggests that Katou may actually have some insecurities that can easily set her off. Then again, a defining part of Katou’s personality is that she takes everything Tomoko says at completely face value, so maybe she’s starting to see Tomoko’s negativity even if it’s not there. Just more of the enigma that is Asuka Katou.

Not a bad save, Tomoko. Countless battles with shame have made her quick on the fly. Unfortunately, while she’s improved at starting a save...

...she still doesn’t know how to end it.

It would’ve been a clean getaway if Tomoko had just ended about half-way in the above panel. But because Tomoko’s anxiety causes her to try and cover all the bases, she ends up rambling suspiciously. The part about Nemo isn’t even that relevant, but in her burst of defensiveness, Tomoko ends up saying things that could just exacerbate the problem even further.

Fucking shit, Katou is damn scary.

The one fortunate thing about Tomoko’s defensive rambles is that once she starts to cool down, her honesty starts coming out more organically. Self-deprecation becomes self-reflection, and brings to the forefront Tomoko’s endearing side.

Only Tomoko could spout such a cliché moe line and sound so pure of heart. Must be the irony.

Aha. Ahaha. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

–that totally didn’t happen.

Tomoko, girl, you’re in the CLEAR! Stop trying to fan flames that have already been put out.

But on that note, it does affirm that while Tomoko is honest with Katou about certain things (perversion, laziness), she isn’t quite ready to be honest on anything that would paint Katou in a bad light. I’d say tha’st about 85% due to fear.

Death Flags raised all around.

I had a feeling that Nemo would take the plunge this time and invite Tomoko out somewhere during the summer. It seems like such an insignificant gesture, but considering that this is the very first time a classmate has asked to hang out with her during the summer, it warms my heart.

Hey now, Tomoko. Don’t get cocky when you’re maximizing your own goof-off time by taking a study camp.

The easy guess is that Nemo wants to go to Comiket. But really, it could be anything that Tomoko would have an interest in. And because it’s implied that Nemo is going for research purposes, it could be anything from a seiyuu panel (the last one went so well) to a hot spring to a hentai game company. Hope they bring Okada along...

Mama senses her daughter’s giving in to peer pressure.

Not gonna lie. This hand gesturing from Rena made me think that she was thinking about doing...something else.

Damn mind-in-the-gutter.

Even though Anna doesn’t appear to be the studious type, it’s pretty cool to see that she can respect people who are. Also, I dig the way she wears her tie (or is that a ribbon?).

Emoji II really has become an honorary delinquent and it fits her perfectly.

I guess no matter how much more grounded Tomoko becomes, she still thinks reading manga is legitimate practice for playing in real-life (though tabletop games may actually allow for some truth).

Sub!Tomoko confirmed.

What a way to end a chapter. For the longest, Katou had always viewed Tomoko through a pair of rose-tinted glasses, always seeing the girl’s faults as endearing “quirks”. But as her soul-piercing gaze seems to indicate, Katou has reached a revelation about Tomoko that she can actually disapprove of. Whether or not it’ll shatter her illusion of Tomoko is still unclear, but how she treats Tomoko from here on out may finally give us a deeper look into Katou’s psyche.

160+ chapters we’ve followed Tomoko, and we’re still learning new things about her. The very extent of Tomoko’s agency has always been a tad murky. She’s good at (poorly) executing short-term ideas, but hardly does she plan out and follow up on her long-term goals. Even her greatest milestone of making friends involved a lot of pushing from outsiders (Ogino, the most obvious case). That said, having to take charge of herself for once is inescapable with college on the horizon. How she goes about it amongst her various mom-friends may end up being Tomoko’s biggest personal challenge yet.

#watamote #watamote review #chapter 164 #no matter how i look at it it's you guys' fault i'm not popular!#tomoko kuroki #kotomi komiyama #hikari itou #hatsushiba #asuka katou #yuu naruse #yuri tamura #emiri uchi #sasaki fuuka #hina nemoto #rena #anna haruna #review

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walls-dmc5 · 5 years

Text

Walls - 4th chapter “Disillusion”

Words: 6,8k

Warnings: slight angst

Hope you enjoy! 🌹

Cara didn’t say a word during the flight away from Red Grave City. She looked outside the helicopter, her head leaning against her hand, though she hardly took in anything that they passed by. The rest of the helicopter has been silent as well since they left the city (aside from the noise from the helicopter of course). Mr. Morrison was flying it; his hands were clutching the controls in an iron grip probably to keep his nerves under control. Nero was sitting in the ‘passenger seat’ in front of her not saying a word, but the what just happened, and the consequences of hit weighed heavily on him. There was too much going on within him right now, it was all around him. The tense atmosphere in the car was filled by anger, grief and frustration, it was undeniable. V sat behind Morrison, unmoving and silent; there was no way to tell what he was thinking about this situation.

Cara herself couldn’t even define what truly went on inside of her own mind.

She failed.

They all failed.

These people who seemed to have so much potential, and they all lost, beaten without standing a chance. And Dante with the two women didn’t even make it out of there.

Did they survive?

Was there a way for them to survive this?

And now Cara was again right at the beginning. Not one step closer to undo her mistake. Not one step closer to taking that tree down.

The flight took quite a while since they didn’t go back to the same place where they came from. Cara thought she picked up that they were going to Fortuna when Morrison said everyone should get into the helicopter. No one had any objections to her tagging along. In fact, no one said anything regarding that, but everyone’s mind was focused on something else. She hardly mattered right now. They simply didn’t care.

They were faced with a world threatening catastrophe and from what Cara understood the only people who should have been capable of stopping it were beaten or even killed.

So what to do now?

Cara had to admit that she felt absolutely helpless. She had no idea at all. And she was surrounded by strangers who didn’t trust her and whom she maybe couldn’t trust either. She felt even worse than after the military operation failed.

The helicopter landed after what felt like an eternity on the island of Fortuna. Cara has been here before during her studies but there was not much she could figure out about what went on here on this island. Information about the cult that used to run this city was hard to come by…

No one said a word as they walked up to a nearby building. An old house with a garage seemingly covering up most of the ground floor. Nero went first, head lowered and he bumped his hand on the door.

Cara watched as the door to the house was cautiously opened. Though she barely caught a glimpse of copper red hair before she heard a gasp and saw a woman throwing her arms around Nero. Cara felt a bit awkward watching them, but she also felt a sting of melancholy in her heart at the scene unfolding in front of her. It must be nice to have someone waiting for one at home, someone who welcomed one after a long hard day at work, someone to catch you when work and emotions have been draining you all day…

She smiled ever so barely. She didn’t know these people at all, but seeing the woman grabbing Nero like this, full of relief and happiness, made her glad that Nero made it out of there. That he could return home to a person that cared about him, that they didn’t have to come here to tell her that Nero didn’t make it.

She was glad. And it was at least a slight positive shimmer in this expanding darkness they were facing.

Nero wrapped his arm around the woman and even from her position Cara could see how he was squeezing her, not saying a word, but assuring her that he was alright, that he made it back.

Their embrace lasted quite a while and none of the other present people – neither V nor Morrison nor Cara – said a word or made another move.

“Is that Nero?!” Cara heard another voice from inside the house.

“Yes,” the woman that embraced Nero replied. She then looked at the other people that were in front of their house. She was a beautiful young woman, Cara noted, with her long hair – still a bit shorter than Cara’s though – her soft brown eyes and how the relief and joy made her entire face light up in a way that Cara could only describe as angelic. She looked between Nero and them for a moment, obviously waiting for Nero to say something but he only looked to the side. Cara couldn’t see his expression.

“Please, come all in. Morrison, it is good to see you again,” the woman said. The man took off his hat and offered the woman his hand and apologized for taking Nero away in this condition and for arriving in the middle of the night like this.

“I’m just glad he’s okay,” the woman smiled. The man went inside.

“I’m truly sorry for the disturbance. We won’t take a lot of your time, I promise. I’m Cara,” apologizing like Mr. Morrison felt only right to her as she shook the woman’s hand and introduced herself.

“I’m Kyrie. And that’s fine, really. I just want to know what happened,” there was concern in her voice and Cara could understand her so well.

“Man, again, I leave ya for like a few minutes and you just fly off, hu?! You’re supposed to be resting, dude,” said the voice Cara heard a minute earlier already. Another woman approached Nero as soon as they entered the house. There was a sense of anger and a chastising tone in her voice, but the glance in her pretty brown-green eyes was anything but.

“Will you sh- just be quiet.” Nero countered. He sounded exhausted. But then again, they all were.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. But ya better tell us what happened.”

Cara followed the people into their living room. A small cozy looking room. Cara saw a lot of photos on the wall and on the furniture, she easily spotted Nero and Kyrie in a lot of them as she let her blue eyes slide over the room. She wasn’t subtle in observing the room, she never was but after all these years she didn’t even try breaking that habit. There were a lot of different objects decorating the room, none of them fitted together, neither in shape nor color, they gave the impression of random gifts by other people who haven’t seen the interior of their home. Cara also saw some colorful toys lying around on the floor.

Do they have kids?

If there were kids involved Cara was even more glad that Nero got home safely.

“Pretty sweet place, don’t cha think?”

Cara almost flinched as the other woman walked past her with a grin on her face and let herself fall onto the couch. Cara avoided her eyes to prevent a blush to creep onto her cheeks. She knew she wasn’t being subtle about her observing her environments, that didn’t mean it wasn’t embarrassing getting caught in the act.

“Oi, relax,” the woman patted the spot next to her on the couch “I’m Nico by the way. Cara followed her invitation and sat down on the couch. She allowed the quiet sigh to escape her lips as she threw her light brown hair back over her shoulders. She would really appreciate a shower. No that the battle was over, the effort and strain it put on her body was slowly becoming more prominent, and after all that time fighting demons she just felt filthy.

“I’m Cara. Hi,” the two women shook hands and Cara was incredibly grateful for the rather uplifting attitude from Nico. It made the situation feel a bit less heavy for her.

“What about you, pal?” Nico leaned forward to look past Cara at V. The man had just quietly followed them inside, Cara couldn’t even tell if he introduced himself to Kyrie, but she thought it was interesting that these people didn’t seem to know him.

What was his role in this group?

“Call me V,” the man replied as he leaned with his back against the wall next to the couch, crossing his arms in front of his chest and barely looking up to Nico while answering her. There was more than enough space on this side of the couch or the other side where Nero and Kyrie sat down right now, but Cara wouldn’t be the one to offer it to V. He seemed to be so deliberate in this moment. Leaning on the wall, away from all of them, his gesture defensive, like raising yet another wall between him and the others.

Nero buried his face in his hand for a moment, groaning in frustration and Cara was reminded about the seriousness of the situation they were in again. Kyrie had her hands on Nero’s shoulders, squeezing them encouragingly, but Cara almost could’ve sworn how much the situation and the emotions weighed heavily on him.

“I am really sorry for all of this. I’m having a hard time accepting this myself if I’m being honest here.” Mr. Morrison said who sat down in the armchair. He ran his hand over his face and then let it drop onto the arm rest.

“It’s okay. Will you tell us what happened?” Kyrie asked softly. Cara admired her strength to smile right now, even if she saw and felt just how tense and heavy the atmosphere was.

Mr. Morrison nodded.

“Where are the kids though? They shouldn’t listen to this,” he asked.

“Kids?” Cara couldn’t help her curiosity, the word just left her mouth without taking a halt in her brain for her to think it over.

“Not theirs,” Nico chimed in, grinning at her, “they’re taking care of a bunch of orphans.”

Cara made a very quiet oh sound, but she could’ve sworn she saw V from her peripheral vision lifting his head for the shortest moment after hearing Nico’s reply. But when she turned her head to him the tattooed man had his head lowered again, not a chance to catch a glimpse of his face and expression.

“Nero, what happened?” Kyrie asked the young man softly. Nero looked at her before he sighed and ran his hand over his head again and scratched his neck. Cara looked at him expectantly because she didn’t know what really happened in the tree either. Maybe whatever he told them could give her some ideas about how to proceed now. Because she was totally lost at this point.

Nero looked at Kyrie once and then started explaining.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Nero clenched his teeth in frustration as he finished his explanation of the previous events. Or at least, what he knew about those. Kyrie’s hand rubbing his back felt like heaven, but even she couldn’t take this weight of his shoulders. He couldn’t believe he lost, couldn’t believe they all lost. That bastard just finished them all off. Like they were nothing. Like ants underneath his foot. Weak, pathetic…

… deadweight.

Nero’s hand clenched into a fist and he pressed his lips tightly together to avoid making a sound or saying anything more.

“So what is the plan now?” Morrison’s question hung heavy in the air and the entire room fell silent for a long while.

“We need to find a way to defeat him.”

Nero looked up to V who made a step forward, uncrossing his arms and leaning on his cane as he looked at the people in the room but at no one in particular. Nero’s brow’s furrowed. This guy brought him out of there. He still had no idea about his abilities and powers aside from having a weird blue bird and a giant golem thing as companions, but he looked weaker than Nero, weaker than Dante, and yet he was still here. Alive and well. Nearly unscathed by the events, and here Nero was, bruised, exhausted, weak…

“What the hell can we do even? I’m just deadweight after all,” Nero said through gritted teeth, his blue eyes burning holes into his knees as he felt his fist shake in anger and frustration.

“No, you’re not. You tried your best-“

“But it wasn’t enough!” he snapped. Kyrie’s expression fell for a very short moment, before her beautiful eyes lit up in sympathy. At least that’s what he made himself believe. He didn’t want pity. He didn’t need pity.

Fuck this, the words never left his lips. Never in front of Kyrie but he desperately wanted to scream all his frustration off his soul. Instead he felt like it was suffocating him inside this broken, powerless body.

“Well, you know, buddy, I just may have an idea for ya.”

Nero looked at Nico with an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. What now?! This was not the time for playing guessing games or empty claims, so he really hoped she would expand her little statement.

“I’m gonna build ya a new arm.”

“What?!”

“Didn’t ya hear me?! Or do ya doubt my genius yet again?!”

“Just… ugh,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, “please explain,”, it was actually hard staying calm. Nero couldn’t decide whether or not he wanted to punch something or if he just wanted to scream and since neither of it was an option right now, and Kyrie’s soothing touch on his shoulders could only do so much right now, he was left with his blood boiling and his knees and hand shaking from too many emotions cursing through him.

“I don’t know exactly yet,” Nico said thoughtful, the kind of thoughtful she only got when it was serious, this much Nero knew about her so far, “but I could use my genius and the research and work it into a prosthetic arm. Or more a weapon. I would need to think this through first.”

Nero stared at her, just like everybody else in the room. Nero wasn’t doubting what she could do. He had no idea how far she could go, but he knew she could do something. And this something was probably more than whatever he could come up with himself.

“But I assume this will take time, right?”, the other woman said – Cara. Nero had no idea who that woman was. She was just suddenly there, said she wanted to help. And she did. But he still had no idea who she was, where she came from. Hell, at this point he trusted V more than her. And he didn’t know that guy either. At all.

“Yeah. I mean, I’d need to do the planning, and now idea how long that’ll take. The construction and so on will be faster usually.”, Nico replied.

“How much time would you need?”, Nero countered, raising his eyebrows. Nico seemed to think about it, but Cara chimed in again.

“How much time do we have? That tree is still out there, and I suppose it’s not going to get better the more time passes.”

She had a valid point. For all they knew this tree could grow even more and probably destroy the whole world within a few days. A new arm wouldn’t do him any good then anymore.

“The tree will continue to grow for at least one more month,” V answered and Nero simply wondered how and why this guy knew this. Who was he? How could he know these things? But Nero doubted he would get an answer from the guy now, so they all would have to take his word for it.

“That should be enough. Not enough time to explore all the possibilities but enough to get something done,” Nico looked up at the ceiling, lost in her own thoughts for a second.

“Then we can use these four weeks to figure out how to take that tree down.”

“Do you have an idea what we can do?” Morrison asked Cara after her statement. The woman, Nero actually assumed she was a bit older than him though he also wasn’t totally sure. He was bad at guessing the ages of women.

“I could look into my parent’s research. I never came across something like this but maybe they have found some information in their time.”

“Are your parents researchers?” Kyrie asked her, curiosity and genuine interest embraced each of Kyrie’s words. It almost brought a smile to Nero’s face. Bless her. Cara chuckled.

“Were. And yeah, sort of I guess. Let’s just say they were interested in demonology.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kyrie apologized as the woman’s parents were obviously not alive anymore. Cara waved it off.

“Oh please, no, it’s alright.”

“V, do you know how to take that thing down?” Nero asked the guy then. V looked at the ground, the hint of a smirk appeared at the corners of his lips. Weird guy…

“I’m afraid that my knowledge about the matter has reached its end at this point.”

Nero didn’t know if he was lying or not. There was something about V’s expression that made him incredibly irritating and almost intimidating, and Nero had a hard time finding any sort of sincerity in his voice, words or even posture, but what choice than to believe him did they have? The world was ending, he was just a weak, pathetic deadweight, and they had absolutely no clue whether or not Dante was still in there and still alive.

“Then I guess this is settled. I’ll try to help out where I can and then let’s hope to get this situation under control again,” Morrison said and got up from his seat.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Cara wrapped the blanket closer around her shoulders as she got settled cross-legged on her couch, stacks of books, folders and loose sheets of papers in front of her on the coffee table alongside a nice hot cup of green tea.

The sun was already rising again, and she knew she wouldn’t be getting any sleep anyway, so she might as well get started doing her research. Mr. Morrison has been so kind as to take her back with the helicopter, so she could get a cab to take her home. V has left Fortuna alongside her and Mr. Morrison, though they didn’t exchange another word and she also had no idea where he went. They were both too lost in their own thoughts about the situation and arguably tired as well.

And now, they all had work to do.

Cara had to admit that she really liked these two women she met in Fortuna. Kyrie and Nico. Wildly different, but they seemed to get along fine. Cara wondered if she would see them again if they went back to Red Grave. As of right now she was honestly just glad that they allowed her to accompany them and let her help.

She still got a chance at this.

She could still set this right again.

But for now, she had to dig through her parent’s research. Her mother’s research from her time as a journalist for the supernatural was vast, a lot of it made Cara question how her mother even got this info, but it has been helpful on more than one occasion for her work so far. However, she also couldn’t remember all the information and details by heart. It was just too much.

There was also this nagging thought that she might actually find something helpful, which she could’ve used for the military mission. If this was the case Cara had no idea what she would do. If there was something in these files that could’ve saved lives…

While the call to get her to coordinate the operation was urgent and she barely has had a chance to grab her bag before they picked her up, so she really didn’t have time to do any research at all.

She was fine.

She did all her could.

It was so hard to make herself believe that and she could feel the weight of it still crushing her shoulders. All the dead soldiers, all the civilians died because the strategy she came up with failed miserably.

Cara closed her eyes and buried her head in her hands. The sob erupted from her throat unintentionally, but she also didn’t try to stop it. She allowed the sobs to escape her lips, she allowed the tears to spill from her eyes, she allowed it all, granted herself the moment of just breaking down, letting it all out. She hugged the blanket closer around her body as the young woman shook from the emotions and how heavy the events of the last hours actually weighed her down.

By the time the tears finally ceased, the sobs slowly quietened, the tea was long cold and the sun has risen fully above the horizon.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It has been a few days and some all-nighters for Cara to finally look through all the files and papers she had. Days and nights to keep herself busy to avoid letting her own emotions overwhelm her again. It was unprofessional and uncalled for right now. She needed to focus. She needed to help.

And she actually did find something. It didn’t give her any answers at all. It more like threw a hint at her; just a page full of questions her mother jotted down about it but without explaining anything.

So now she was in the nearly completely abandoned library aside from the woman at the reception - because no one wanted to spend their time relaxing in a library while a demonic tree grew in the nearby city - to see whatever she could find the old-fashioned way. There was actually a much bigger chance to find an old long forgotten book about demonology in the depths of the shelves of an old library than to dig through the internet. Not to mention that she knew this library by heart. She always spent time here to do research as long as she was at home and didn’t have to travel for work.

She loved the long, narrow shelves that formed a maze of old, good smelling books full of stories and information just waiting to be discovered by her. Even more did she appreciate though the huge working space in the middle of this maze. Comfortable chairs, old wooden tables, illuminated mostly by daylight shining in through the huge windows. It was nice working in broad daylight.

And today she also appreciated that the lovely weather outside distracted her from the ongoing catastrophe in Red Grave. It allowed her to concentrate more on the matter at hand and not on the fact that she should probably be in the city helping people.

“He who respects the Infant’s faith

Triumphs over Hell and Death.”

Cara raised her head from her book, blue eyes widening a bit, her lips barely so parting as she heard that deep and unique voice. V stood in front of her on the other side of the table, leaning on his cane, a book in his free hand, apparently quoting from it. He closed the book and looked up from it, the corner of his lips rising into a smirk as his green eyes bore into hers.

And they were beautiful. Cara had a hard time denying that, now that she saw the man in broad daylight for the very first time. A bright green, dimmed by strands of wavy black hair falling into his face. His eyes bore into hers and just like before it seemed as if he was looking for something. As if he tried to analyze her, judging her whether or not she could be trusted, if she was a threat to him, just how much of his walls he could break down for her to allow this interaction between them.

There was nothing intimidating about him right now. Whether it was the change of scenery or circumstances. Maybe it was because he stood in a public place, illuminated by the sunlight and not the moon, but Cara also didn’t feel comfortable letting down her own guard around him. She knew nothing about this man aside from him having non-human abilities. She didn’t and couldn’t trust him just as he didn’t.

That, however, was not a reason for not allowing this situation or reject the prospect of a possibly pleasant conversation, as odd as it seemed they would meet here coincidentally. And Cara was definitely not against getting to know him - or new people in general.

“That.. is an interesting quote,” his smirk grew broader for a moment as he obviously read between the lines and noticed how she had absolutely no idea what he was quoting nor what he meant by it. But, he didn’t feel the need to respond to her comment.

“May I?” he asked her nodding towards the chair in front of him across from her.

“Please,” she allowed a smile to appear on her lips as the man slowly, but in an almost elegant way, which she didn’t expect from him, lowered himself into the chair. He reached underneath his black leather vest and put the book away which he quoted from earlier. She was surprised that it was apparently his book. Given they were in a library she assumed he had found it somewhere here.

“So, tell me, what was that quote you said just now?” Cara asked, making a small attempt to break the ice but also because there was a shimmer of interest in her about this since poetry was a topic she basically knew next to nothing about.

“The Auguries of Innocence. By William Blake,” he didn’t sound annoyed at her question at all, rather he seemed to gladly give her that info albeit it was a very short answer.

The name “Blake” rang a bell, but she has neither heard of this poem nor could she think of any other poem by him. So she resorted to not commenting on it. No need to fake her knowing something about it and she suspected V could see through her anyway. Cara nodded.

“Sorry. Poetry is not really my forte.”, she admitted, avoiding eye contact with him and looked back at her notes and the opened book about demonology.

“It rarely is.”

Cara didn’t know what to say to him as a reply, but a apologetic smile appeared on her face, and while there was no indication for it in his voice, his words could easily be interpreted as sad or at least disappointed. Cara knew it could be hard if you didn’t have someone to share a passion with.

“Has your research brought you any results?”

Cara looked at the man a bit surprised, but then she remembered that she told all of them that she would be doing research days ago in Fortuna. Also the fact she held a pen in her hand and was writing down notes from a book was also a big indication.

“Not a lot honestly,” she replied. She didn’t know if she could trust him, she didn’t know him at all, but they at least seemed to be on the same side, and they could use all the help they can get. Not to mention that he did save her life in that tree as well. She might as well share her results so far. Cara reached into her backpack and pulled out a little folder. She pulled a very old, slightly yellowed piece of paper out it, and laid it on the table.

It was just a pencil drawing of a tree that looked suspiciously similar to the one in Red Grave City along with a lot of questions like “where does it come from?”, “how to take it down?”. Basically the same questions they had now, but without any answers.

A tattooed hand reached out to the sheet of paper. Long, slender fingers, which didn’t appear to be the hands of a fighter, they looked like pianist’s hands, too controlled in their movements, too graceful for the hardships of battle, slid the paper slowly closer. Cara forced herself to stop staring and observing his hands with an almost completely unnoticeable shake of her head.

“Was your mother a demon hunter?” he seemed genuinely interested as he eyed the notes on the paper.

“No, but my dad was. She was a journalist. Though she did focus on demons.” Cara replied. Her parents were maybe not the happiest and her most favorite topic but also not something she would completely avoid talking about. And her mother’s work has been helpful in the past already after all. She was just glad when people didn’t linger too long on that topic.

V nodded barely visibly and slid the paper back over to her. She put it back inside her backpack.

“Aside from that actually nothing so far. I haven’t found anything about a giant demonic tree that suddenly spawns in the human world like this,” Cara told him. V looked at her out of his deep green eyes, his brows slightly furrowed. He listened closely to every word she said, she noticed. Despite how… off he looked and appeared, he was rather courteous.

“Do you know anything about it?” Cara dared to ask him, looking him in his eyes with a challenging glance. She assumed he knew more. Not how much but everything about him screamed that he was not completely uninformed. He protected himself too much from her and other people with the barriers and his composure to not have more knowledge about this.

He smirked again.

“It’s called Qliphoth. A tree that grows in the underworld. It grows for 2000 years before breaking through the gate to the human world.”

“I suppose it doesn’t need water and sunlight in order to grow?” it was almost a rhetorical question. The sun didn’t shine in hell and she didn’t know of water existing in hell either. But, he did know what it was. How he knew was a question for another time probably.

“It thrives on human blood.”

Cara didn’t say anything but she nodded as she got the sad confirmation of what she already assumed.

“Do you know how to take it down?” she asked after a longer while. He said he didn’t know back in Fortuna, but maybe he has figured out something during the last few days.

“No. The assumption would be to defeat Urizen.”

“Urizen?”

“The demon that rises with the Qliphoth. An entity bound to the tree, unable to leave it.”

“Is… this demon the reason you lost?” Cara asked carefully after a while of contemplating what little information V was offering her.

The man nodded. His expression was unreadable, he was hiding his thoughts and emotions well behind his walls but Cara couldn’t imagine that it didn’t affect him. If he truly was on their side, if he cared about the others, then it couldn’t leave him cold and disinterested in their fates.

Silence fell upon them as Cara was thinking about what V said and dug through her mind and brain to come up with an idea, but right now there was just a blank space. She had absolutely no idea.

“V…” She started then, almost whispering. The man looked at her, maybe surprised at her tone, with slightly rosen eyebrows.

“There’s much more to this, right?” she asked him and looked him into his eyes again. There was a flicker of something in there this time - surprise, intrigue, she couldn’t really tell - before he closed his eyes, long lashes flattering against very prominent cheekbones and a smirk broke out on his face again. It gave her the same answer as if he had just said ‘yes’. She nodded, exhaling through her nose and looking away.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” he said then. He didn’t trust her. One bit. The little information he gave her was probably the same information he gave Dante and the others, and now Cara had to occupy her mind with the questions what he’s keeping from her and whether or not she could trust him. At least a little bit.

“I’ll take my leave now. I’ll see you in three weeks in Red Grave City at the church square,” with that the man rose from the chair.

She whispered a quiet “yeah. See you there.” before she watched him walk away, his black hair swinging with his movements, his cane in hand. Cara watched him until he was out of sight before she let her head glide into her hands. She didn’t know what to think or feel.

Why was V even here? And while she was glad for some company, it was the last thing she expected. And he didn’t really give her any answers either. He didn’t trust her, was definitely hiding something and kept his distance as much as possible.

But he has beautiful eyes…

She shook her head, shaking the thought literally from her mind, although she knew those green eyes would probably haunt her until she saw him again.

Alright, think rationally, she told herself and thought about the few things he did say. The tree’s name was Qliphoth and the demon that beat them all was called Urizen. Maybe she could make use of that info after all…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

V walked down the steps in front of the library slowly as he felt the faint breeze of energy coursing through his body. Particles of the black ink marking his skin faded, demonic energy left his body as the blue lightning demon manifested next to him. His wings sparkled with the electricity spreading through them, blue feathers filled the air as Griffon shook his body before floating to keep up with V.

“Was there really time for a chitchat like this just now, V?” the bird chastised him.

“It doesn’t throw us back in our schedule,” he replied simply.

At this point he has done everything he could to assist in saving as many people as possible and by now one could only hope that most people have gotten away from Red Grave.

And if that was not the case, it was time to return and try to save as many civilians as possible. It wouldn’t stop the Qliphoth, couldn’t halt its growth, couldn’t stop Urizen from gaining more power, but if it could just give them a few more seconds it would be worth it.

“Then what did you gain from it?”

“She is not in this for her own gain,” V replied, going over what the woman has told him in his mind.

“Are you sure, Shakespeare?!”

“No.”

But we will see soon, he thought. Of course, she had her own motives. She was talking about how to make up for her mistake. But neither was she a demon nor did she know about the truth of the Qliphoth. She wanted to clear her own conscience. She did not seek the fruit for herself.

And maybe, just maybe did he also seek some form of human contact. And after seeing the woman in the library after checking out some books, he took that chance. Didn’t think, didn’t consider the risk involved, a grave mistake. The last ten years should have taught him different.

Arguably, this was the longest conversation with another human he had in years.

Griffon sighed as he flew next to him, watching him out of his keen, but very thoughtful yellow eyes.

“Just, don’t forget your mission, kid.”

V’s brows furrowed. No, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. His mission has been with him for over ten years. Has been a beating pulse in the marking on his skin, has been a breathing life flying next to him, has been a weapon in his hand, has been a threat in the back of his head should he even consider disobeying.

They needed to beat Urizen. Or else he could not fulfill his own mission. But Urizen also needed to be stopped. He was too powerful, if they failed to defeat him he would bring the end of this world

He needed to beat him.

V gripped the cane in his hand harder as he felt the weight of his situation trying to break him down.

He needed to proceed, needed to see this through.

Just as he has always done.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Nico could feel her joints make cracking noises as she stretched her arms and legs at her desk. She adjusted her glasses and took a deep, long sip of her coffee as her eyes fell upon the countless drawings and concept art on the table. She grinned as she looked at the most recent one.

It was finally turning out the way she wanted it to be!

She was a genius!

One more all-nighter and she should be able to start getting to the fun part in the morning. Should take her another 24 hours to get a prototype done and then she could finally work on the actual masterpiece.

Nero better be appreciating this.

Nah, Nico may joke a lot, and bicker with him, and tease him, and she meant at least half of it too, but she also knew the dude would know how to appreciate her art.

She would make sure Nero could kick demon ass the same way he used to do it again. She would give him a way to make up for the loss of his arm and maybe it would also cheer him up again. Kyrie had her hands full with the orphans but also with her boyfriend being absolutely down and grumpy. He never acted against her, but it was all around him. Nero had a hard time accepting and coming to terms with what happened.

Getting his ass kicked put him down more than Nico could’ve imagined. He was a proud young man, sure, but that it completely shattered his pride like this… duh…

She would finish her masterpiece, grab some cash from him for it and then they could go to Red Grave City to kick demon ass the proper way again.

She was looking forward to it.

#dmc5 #devil may cry 5 #v #nero #kyrie #nico #morrison #fanfiction #walls #my oc #cara #4th chapter #disillusion

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only-in-dreamland · 5 years

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Ok here I am guys. I'm finally getting the chance to write all this down, and it may be a little redundant at this point, but I wanted to express just how much I adore this clip. In its entirety. To the point where once it ended I sat back in awe, clutching my chest and just breathing a sigh of relief. I hope you'll follow along with me.

So the opening...is just so heartwarming. To see these boys; both sleeping soundly next to each other, after what was such an emotionally exhausting week for the both of them no doubt. The calm after the storm.

Marti watching nico, just taking him in because 'he's really here'. Then, when he reaches over and strokes his cheek with that content look on his face, a ghost of a smile creeping through because 'he's really here...with me'. And those last few seconds where his eyes are just locked on him, it almost feels like he's thinking 'I'm never gonna let you out of my sight ever again'.

I really love that in marti's text to maddelena he doesn't apologise if he's the reason for nico feeling down or being ill. It shows how martino has learnt that he wasn't the result of a disorder, but of love. Of falling in love. Of freedom. Of acceptance.

'It's not true he only wants to be with you because he's got a disorder. I mean, he does have a disorder but it's nothing to do with you.'

First of all, thank you maddelana for saying this. And secondly, I adore marti's expression as she says this whole line because it just screams 'I know, I know now that it was never because of that'. And even without responding, you can see he's grateful to her for saying it.

Martino opening the curtains, literally and metaphorically, bringing the light back into niccolò's life.

The shot of nico looking so small, with marti holding him, rubbing his back because 'I've got you' and he's making sure his presence is felt...literally.

'I should go', marti's action when he lies down next to him and puts his arm around nico, enveloping him, just exudes 'no, you should stay'. And nico, saying this in the same position he woke up in, without opening his eyes just tells you he's not ready to do...he doesn't wanna go.

'I don't feel so good', oh nico sweetie the fact that you can say this to marti, without hiding your pain, is so important but you are yet to learn; you can let him take care of that pain. He sees you and he wants you...all of you.

'So what, I'm here', my god I don't know if I've ever loved martino as much as I do in this moment. He says it so simply. And it truly shows his character development from the boy who thought that the only option to stay sane was to stay away from mentally ill people but with just a few words, he shows his understanding that he was wrong. That he didn't know better. That people are more than their mental illness. Because for him, the only way to stay sane is to be with niccolò. And yet again, a physical reaffirmation by kissing his neck to show him that 'I'm here, I mean it.'

'I don't want you to see me like this, your face gets sad.' Oh fuck, niccolò breaks my heart here because you can see him crumbling down, face pained with the emotion overwhelming him. That the idea of marti being sad when he's with him, of looking at him with pity and sorrow; for nico to see his face like that would be more painful than being away from him...destroys me.

And Rocco's voice, barely above a whisper but still so full of emotion...just incredible.

'That's not true. Look at me, my face isn't sad'- marti's reaction is instantaneous, so quick to dispel nico's fears. He's even smiling because it's that far from the truth.

Nico's 'no' sounds so stubborn, almost like he can't believe it because 'how can it be true when everyone else in my life has been hurt because of me?', you just know that's what he's thinking and it crushes my soul.

'Don't you want to look at me?' And nico can only shake his head because he's too choked up, and then you can literally hear nico crying, so naturally I'm crying.

And marti, my god marti, just letting him be, letting him take his time but is so soothing; those gentle thumb strokes as if he can feel nico's fragility.

I can't breathe...the point where you hear nico take that first breathy inhale and you know he's crying, if you pay close close attention, you can see marti close his eyes and lose his smile for just a moment, because nico being in pain causes him pain and OH MY FUCKING GO- DON'T TOUCH ME, HOW DARE YOU FEDERICO?!

'It's just that I already know this can't work', he's already given it an expiry date. And him crying as if he's already in mourning of their relationship.

I loveeee nico's 'I don't?' in response to marti's 'I think you don't know shit' because he's opening up the possibility of marti expanding his horizons...their horizons. It's so hopeful.

And here, martino really makes me smile. His assuredness, his courage, his ability to make nico smile in the midst of all this sadness; this moment that he knew was so delicate yet he handled it with so much care...my god I felt so proud.

'Stop thinking about the future'

Fede's voice my god; insistent, hushed and with the intent to leave an imprint on nico, he says it like it's the secret, the key to living life and it fucking kills me and revives me all at once.

'Let's enjoy this. Every day. With serenity'

Wow. Just wow. And the way nico closes his eyes because 'my god, what did I do to deserve him?'. The relief was so palpable, that this wonderful, giving boy is ready and willing to be there with him...through it all.

Now these last 30 seconds I don't know if I can ever fully describe just exactly what it made me feel.

The comfort

The softness

The energy

The tranquility

The intimacy

The tenderness

They truly are each other's light in the darkness, a beacon of hope that if one should ever feel lost, than the other will no doubt...find them again.

#skam italia

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topweeklyupdate · 6 years

Text

TØP Weekly Update #56: I’m So High (7/27/2018)

I’m still adjusting to Twenty One Pilots once again being a regular part of my day-to-day life. Just when things look like they might be settling down, Tyler Joseph jumps back onto our timelines with more Quality Content to carry us through to the next album, the next tour, and whatever else is on the horizon for our favorite band. Let’s pick apart this week in Twenty One Pilots news together, shall we?

This Week’s TØPics:

“Nico and the Niners” Video Drops

Tickets to the Bandito Tour Go Straight to the Secondary Market, the Clique is Real Sad About It

“Jumpsuit” Soars to #1 at Alternative (and Other Chart News)

And More!

Major News and Announcements:

The biggest news from the last week was yesterday’s surprise release of the music video for “Nico and the Niners”, which came out with no dmaorg.info buildup or any other cryptic nonsense to prepare me for how much I had to write last night.

Announced as the second of a trilogy of music videos telling the Trench storyline, this video depicts Tyler inside of Dema itself. Shot in what appears to be Taras Shevchenko University in Kiev, Ukraine (not coincidentally the first concert date on the Europen leg of the Bandito Tour), this video gives us our first clear picture of the community that Clancy’s been telling us about for months now.

As Reddit detectives discovered two weeks ago in the background of a few shots in “Jumpsuit”, Dema is nestled in the middle of that gorgeous and wild Icelandic countryside. The walled city is laid out (more or less) exactly how the dmaorg.info map suggested. It looks run-down and exceptionally gray (matching the clothing of all its non-bishop denizens), with the only direct light coming from strange florescent strips and tubes. These light sources seem to be created by the bishops themselves in weird religious ceremonies involving glassblowing and waving their arms around in an impression of Michael Phelps getting really lost on dry land. One important note: it seems like the bishops are making much more than just weird art installations...

The video narrative depicts Tyler in his small Dema apartment packing up his belongings (notably the yellow flowers from “Jumpsuit” and the red beanie and white sunglasses of the Blurryface Era) and preparing to escape Dema with the help of the torch-wielding Banditos. When the group meets up, Josh removes his mask; Tyler and Josh smile at each other like gosh darn angels and perform the full secret handshake, marking the first time that we’ve seen the duo physically together outside that single promotional photo since 2018. I’m still crying about it.

The Banditos set up a drum kit and hand Tyler a microphone, and the band perform the song, literally starting a concert that draws the bishops out of their weird little church service. The Banditos flee through ad underground tunnel, with Tyler leaving his jumpsuit behind so two Dema children can find it and be inspired by the sign of yellow. As the band marches into the light, the Banditos attach more yellow duct tape to Tyler’s clothes, demonstrating that the costuming is a deliberate choice and not just the results of cutting costuming budgets.

The Clique has asked a lot of questions about where precisely in the timeline this video falls and what it means for the Trench storyline as a whole. It is pretty easy to read this as coming directly after “Jumpsuit”, with Tyler being rescued by the Banditos he met in that video. However, others have suggested that this is set before Tyler’s failed escape attempt due to the lack of a cut on his nose, leaving open the possibility that Tyler did in fact die in the “Jumpsuit” video, gripping onto a wild flower that reminded him of those he had previously collected by other means within the city. I honestly don’t know how much I buy that- How would Tyler have gotten separated from the other Banditos by the events of “Jumpsuit”?- but I’d be very excited to see if the third video in this trilogy fills the gap and explains how Tyler wound up lying unconscious in the middle of Trench.

The other pertinent question is how this entire narrative relates to our boy Clancy. Tyler appears to be acting out the distraction Clancy described creating several weeks ago, which would make sense if this was a prequel to “Jumpsuit”... but it also doesn’t make sense, because Clancy described the distraction as a signal for attracting the Banditos into the city in the first place, not something that they planned themselves. This discrepancy could just be choked up to an error on Tyler’s part, but I’ve known this kid too long- he cares about his art too much for those kinds of errors.

My theory? This is set before “Jumpsuit”- and also set before Clancy’s escape attempt. Perhaps Tyler initially sought out Dema as a place of temporary refuge, was forbidden from leaving, and then was rescued by his friends and family? Perhaps the band’s performance and them leaving behind their instruments/ jumpsuits alerted Clancy to the possibility of escape in the first place? Maybe Clancy is the kid, or one of the parishioners? I don’t know, man, but I’m pumped to see where this story leads when we get a new video (and a new song) in just a few weeks. (Just please don’t make us wait until Trench comes out.)

In other, potentially less exciting news: this time last week, tickets for the upcoming Bandito Tour were just going on sale. Now... they’re pretty much all gone, at least from the direct-from-source market. Thousands of fans logged onto Ticketmaster at 10 am to grab some tickets priced from $60-$80, waited in a virtual line for half an hour, and were left with only a few scattered seats in the nosebleeds priced at Platinum rates of as much as $500. Even while several sources tried to spin the news of near-complete Day One sell-outs as pointing to the passion of the fanbase, it was pretty apparent to everyone that the vast majority of the purchased tickets did not go to people excited to see their favorite artists, but rather to bot accounts set up by scalpers- StubHub, Seat Geek, and similar websites are filled to bursting with secondhand tickets being offered at double or triple the original listed price.

In all honesty, I’m not sure how we fix this problem moving forward. Ticketmaster and concert promoters truthfully have no incentive to say no to guaranteed sales of all their tickets; if anything, it just encourages them to continue to raise prices. The only way scalpers would stop investing their resources in huge shows like this is if the US followed the lead of several European countries and passed legislation banning the practice or if scalpers had reason to believe that they couldn’t resell most of the tickets for at least slightly-above market “value”. In major markets, there are certainly 20,000 folks rich enough to drop a couple hundred dollars on a night out, so the latter seems unlikely; Twenty One Pilots will keep getting bought out until Josh’s nightmare of only fifteen people in the crowd really comes true.

Another way things could change is if multiple A-list artists really put their foot down on a populist stance that $80 a ticket will make everyone plenty enough money and that they won’t work with companies that don’t invest in defending against bots. And, no, that’s just never gonna happen. Perhaps Tyler and Josh could one day expand the pre-sale program so that every die-hard fan who wants one can access and afford a ticket before bots can get to it, bu that just carries the problem of potentially excluding people based on their fandom instead of their bank account. Sadly, that’s still the only hope I can see on the distant horizon.

If you did not get tickets, be on the lookout for giveaways and keep watching for the secondary market prices to drop to more reasonable levels as the show date nears and the scalper becomes more desperate to recoup their investment. Godspeed.

Chart Performance:

After their return last week was slightly dampened by the mid-week release date, the band continued to see their new tracks rise up the Billboard charts. With a full seven days of sales and radio play, “Jumpsuit” rose up to #1 at Alternative, the fastest a song has reached that peak since Green Day’s “Know Your Enemy” nearly a decade ago. “Jumpsuit” gained at most every chart save for sales, which we already knew would be front-loaded in the modern marketplace. In its first full release week, “Jumpsuit” gained airplay and moved up to the third most streamed rock song (passing all of the band’s legacy tracks from Blurryface). All this allowed the song to move up ten spots to #50 on the overall Hot 100 (coincidentally the same position the track debuted on the UK charts last Friday).

That’s not to imply that “Nico” didn’t get any action prior to the release of its music video. It also predictably sunk in sales and still isn’t getting significant radio play compared to its brother, but it was still the fifth best streaming rock song of the week (again passing “Stressed Out” and company) and managed to ride those seven full days of data to a #79 debut on the overall Hot 100.

So what can we take from all those numbers? I’m still entirely not sure. I can’t emphasize enough how important having the full week of data has on the songs’ performance. Chart forecasters projected last week that “Jumpsuit” would rise far more than ten spots on the Hot 100 thanks to all those extra days, and it’s hard to not see it as looking a little front-loaded. However, seeing concept rock songs as decidedly non-mainstream as these two tracks on the Hot 100 is both a huge breath of fresh air and a definite accomplishment in itself. I can’t imagine anyone at Fueled By Ramen headquarters being displeased with securing an Alternative #1- the band is still unquestionably the crown jewel of the label’s current lineup.

I don’t believe “Nico” will stick around on the Hot 100- it’s definitely really weird- but “Jumpsuit” still has a few weeks to gain traction, and the steadily improving radio play seems promising. We’ll just have to wait and see how the songs do next week.

Power to the local dreamer.

|-/

#twenty one pilots #tyler joseph #josh dun #trench #jumpsuit #nico and the niners #top weekly update

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