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bokettochild · 3 months

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Demon In A Bottle

Took me bloody well forever, but I'm off work now, so here we go!

Febuwhump: Day 1 - Helplessness

Word Count: 5,395

Summary: In the wake of a battle with a demon, one that's abilities allow it to dredge up old miseries, Sky must hunt down their straying captain to try and stop him drowning said old miseries in whiskey.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Alcoholism and Substance Abuse

notes: quite frankly, the theme of this fic is in no ways lighthearted, but while the title jumped out at me from the story, I find it also makes me laugh. I can’t help thinking of the tweetle-beetle-bottle-puddle-paddle-battle-muddle from Fox in Socks and I don’t know if I hate myself for it or am just glad I can giggle about something related to this story!

If there’s one thing heroes are supposed to be able to do, it’s save people. By definition, a hero is someone who helps others, but in meeting the rest of their chain of heroes, Sky has since learned that the title of hero means something else too.

The Hero is a man or child clad in green who appears when Hyrule is in danger to fight away monsters and evil and restore peace to the kingdom. The fashion in which they do so differs of course, as he’s slowly learning, but the fact remains that a hero still has a duty to his people and his country, and while it’s not always something thrust upon them, each one of his brothers bears that burden. Some of them let it drag them down, the weight of the world on their shoulders an inescapable duty, others shoulder it as a life purpose, a defining role, something that they’ve built their whole being around, and others, like Wind, regard it as a natural course of action.

It’s strange, learning that the title is so commonly used, that so many men and boys have borne it since it was given to him what feels like ages ago. In a way, it’s nice knowing that there are others, that there are people like him who understand things, yet in the same breath, they’re all so different, and with such varying experiences that really, in the long run, they’re as different as night and day sometimes.

As if to prove it, Legend’s blatant lack of trust in knights clashes with the fact that so many of them bear the honor of knighthood with pride. Warriors is a polished, well-spoken soldier, trained in the ways of combat, and Twilight is a ranch hand hailing from the country village of Ordon, brash in many ways that clash with the captain. Time is quiet, distant at times, and Wind is warm, welcoming and an ever-present ray of sunshine at their sides. Where Hyrule is unpolished and unassuming, the majority of their group stand out in a crowd. Wild can cook. Truly, there is such variety among their number that it’s a wonder they can all be classified by the same singular word: a hero.

But just because the title is there, doesn’t always mean it always feels like it fits.

Sure, Legend’s whole being is built around his life as a hero. They're not sure how long he’s been doing it, but they don’t call the young man “veteran” for nothing. It’s clear he owns his title without shame, living out each day in the effort of following the destiny given to him. Sure, Wild has taken to heart the burden bestowed on him, striving to be the best he can be and own the title. Sure, Wind accepts it like it’s just another truth about himself, just the same as his golden hair and ocean blue eyes. Yes, the old man seems to characterize what any child might think of when asked to describe a hero. But Sky is not Legend or Wind or Wild or Time or any of the other heroes. They are of the same spirit, and some of them apparently share blood (why had Twilight and Time told no one?) but they are each their own separate selves, each with his own life and person, and unlike them, Sky feels the weight of their shared title acutely.

It was his duty to save Zelda. The weight of the future was on his shoulders. His duty was protecting the people of Hylia and restoring peace and safety to the surface. His whole world expanded in one day from a smattering of islands high above the clouds to a whole huge land full of people and animals and duty.

Duty. What a heavy word.

It follows him. Even with the sword now silent, Fi having gone to rest with the assurance that he has accomplished what he must and no longer requires her aid and guidance (even though he does, he still does, please, Fi, some advice would be great from time to time) his mission isn’t over. No, because now that he’s defeated the god of evil, now that Zelda is safe, now that Impa is dead, he is the one Hylian out of all of them who knows enough about the surface to guide the other in surviving there. Yet, in the same breath, he’s still the youngster who barely graduated Academy, never mind being properly knighted. He’s still young enough that the elders sometimes doubt him, but experienced enough that they know not to treat him like a child. He’s ‘too young’ to understand the Knights of Skyloft, but has seen more of the world than they ever have.

It’s strange, being caught in such an imbalance. People expect so much and yet so little of him. They want him to know what’s happening but doubt that he does. They ask for advice but question anything he gives them.

It’s exhausting. He knows Zelda used to tease him before, but the nickname “sleepy-head” never felt so accurate.

At least with the chain though, he doesn’t need to worry about it. Call him selfish, but there’s a certain kind of relief that comes from allowing someone else to take the lead, knowing that everyone else understands the world around him better and knows what to do. He doesn’t need to babysit them around new species or warn them about dangerous conditions or fauna. He doesn’t need to even be on guard, instead free to drift along at the center of the group, knowing that Twilight’s sharp ears and Legend’s acute sense of danger will provide ample warning if anything does come upon them.

He’s free to sleep for the first time in what feels like forever, without someone busting through his tent in a panic because they heard keese for the first time or realized that rain existed. In fact, he’s allowed to even sleep in sometimes, no plans or defenses or responsibilities waiting for him when he wakes up, just simple easy to follow orders of get up, get ready, walk, fight, and make camp.

Call him crazy, this adventure has been almost a vacation if it wasn’t for the fact that Twilight almost died on them a month ago! Or then again, there’s been a lot that happened since then, but even with that in mind, at least he’s not the sole one responsible for the safety, care and guidance of his fellow heroes. More often than not, actually, they’re the ones looking out for him. Honestly, he doesn’t know how he’ll thank Legend for teaching him about the poisons on the surface, or Wild for letting him peek at the champion’s slate to read what he can about monster types, weaknesses and whatnot. The other heroes have this and that to add, of course, but those two have been the most helpful, seeking him out in order to show him things first hand when they can, so that while Wild and Hyrule often go to muck about, he and Legend find their free time typically spent with the veteran teaching him everything he knows about the surface world, survival, and even matters beyond that; matters beyond being a hero and more about just being. It's nice learning things for the sake of learning, not for the sake of staying alive, and Legend talks with a similar cadence and manner to Fi when he’s caught up in expounding on this point or that, uninterrupted because Sky very much appreciates both the effort and the guidance.

For all Legend has to share with him though, the vet isn’t exactly someone he can turn to when it comes to problems with people. Honestly, sometimes it feels like he returns the kindness shown to him by the younger hero by covering Legend’s ass when it comes to social interactions, at least among their group. The vet’s left a terrible first impression on most of them, and since it seems everyone else is equally bad as he is when it comes to communication, there’s still many in their group under the impression that their vet is a total asshole.

So yeah, Legend is not the best person to ask for help when it comes to people issues. Time either. Time and he aren’t close by any exaggeration of the word, and while the older man is willing to offer advice here and there, Sky’s not certain he feels comfortable seeking it out. Typically speaking, he’s found that Warriors is the best person to ask about these sorts of things, being as he is a man and not a child and possesses the social skill necessary to address this sort of thing, only....

Only, it’s terribly hard to ask someone for advice on how to handle their own stupidity.

He is not blind. Okay, well, maybe, and to some things, but missing Time and Twilight’s relationship is likely more a matter of him not being close enough to either to really put much stock in their interactions. Their leader’s fondness for one of their number wasn’t too shocking considering how attached he himself has become to all of them in such a short time. He'd just assumed that Time moved slower and had begun to warm up to them one at a time, starting with the rancher and moving on to the sailor. He'd thought they’d all follow in time, not that Time just ultimately had favorites.

Despite missing that though, he’s not entirely incompetent. He sees his brothers, and much as they might have all assumed he was simply the tired, quiet one, just because he doesn’t speak up doesn’t mean he’s not paying attention. No, he sees what happens in camp. He sees Legend’s tentative bids for connection, Wild’s withdrawn attitude that hides behind the smile and the laughter. He sees Wind’s worry and Time’s stress. He knows Twilight is wrung out and confused after his secret was exposed and the rest of them have had to accept the fact that their silent, furry companion was, in fact, one of their brothers.

He knows that there’s a breach of trust there, or at least a perceived one. Those who didn’t regard the beast as a threat have often sought the company of their wolf companion in order to express troubles or thoughts that they didn’t wish to share with anyone else, including the rancher himself. Not knowing, they’d told him things, thinking he was just an animal and incapable of sharing them, told him things they didn’t want Twilight to know, things they thought or felt. Now, knowing that Twilight is privy to so many of their secrets, it’s perhaps natural that their barriers have been thrown up, their brothers guarded and wary of what he’ll do with the forbidden knowledge he possesses.

He knows it hurts the man, but he understands. He’d never shared his own feelings with their wolf companion, but if Crimson were to one day take hylian form, he’s sure he’d be at least the slightest bit worried about it, maybe even betrayed. Not knowing a dear companion could speak if they so wanted, could be like yourself, would be hurtful. To know they didn’t trust you when you poured out your heart to them...

Yes, he understands.

Unfortunately, that also means that Twilight is, very much, also not in the category of people who he can come to about things that are worrying him. Sadly, it seems none of them are. He’d never dream of asking the younger ones; Wind is a child and should not be burdened with such things, Hyrule is still struggling to make his own connections, Wild may or may not understand and most definitely has enough on his plate already, Legend is Legend, and he’s never been very close with Four.

Which leaves Warriors, who is, again, the course of his frustration.

Because, unfortunately, despite being a hero, and despite killing an actual god, Sky finds himself helpless to face a mere vice, a common demon that seems to have taken hold of one of his brothers.

It started simple. A night after a tough battle, one where he couldn’t sleep and had wandered downstairs from the inn-room he’d shared with a few of the others, a room where Wind was being kept awake for the sake of his earlier concussion from a battle. Stress was high across the whole group, and he’d needed the space so it was natural that he’d wandered downstairs, hoping to sneak outside and catch some fresh air like he used to on Skyloft.

Like on Skyloft, the awful visions that woke him up that night were also cause for his slipping from bed.

His intention had been to step out, to catch the breeze on his face and maybe watch the stars for a bit. Legend often says that the stars hold comfort and assurance, and while he doesn’t know nearly as much about them, or the stories and figures the vet can pick out from the heavens, he does know that cloudless nights remind him of home, and bright lights twinkling above had quickly become the only familiar thing between every place he’s gone.

Maybe that’s why Legend likes them so much; they’re an unchanging constant no matter where you go.

At any rate, he’d needed the space. He hadn’t expected to find any of the others up as well though, much less the captain. In the end, he never made it outside, instead sitting up and talking with the other.

He’d thought little of the nearly empty bottle of whiskey at the man’s side, too busy with his own thoughts and worries.

He’d thought nothing of it either when, after a terrible battle that nearly saw the loss of the traveler and ended with a passed-out Legend and a very bloody Four, he’d found the captain up stewing quietly over ill thought-out plans and reckless behaviors. The off-handed “I need a drink” had been something to just smile and shake his head at.

But then he’d begun to catch on. Rough battles, difficult nights, sleeplessness from worry, from pain and in his own case; from visions. It had resulted in many a night spent up in each other’s company. More worrying still was the constant presence of a little silver flask, held tight in fainty trembling hands as dulled blue eyes would linger over their younger ones.

He’d thought it strange, but it was Wind’s worried “has the captain been drinking again?” that really caught him by the ears and shook him. He’d thought it a passive thing, hadn’t paid it much attention because there was no true way to know what was in that little flask (Legend has one too, but it’s got some kind of sweet, spicey juice in it). The sailor asking about it though had changed that. It had revealed that, no, it wasn’t simply a passing thing and was very much a longstanding issue. It was not at all what he was hoping to find out. More so, the youngest can’t even say anything about it, because the captain knowing that his former charge is aware of the vice apparently would have some very, very bad results.

So, Wind can’t say anything without potentially making it worse. None of the others know or have seen it enough to realize the weight of the issue, and he’s left the only one who not only knows and witnesses it but has nothing he can do about it.

Long nights, dark eyes and pain, so, so much pain in the captain’s face and voice have left him stumbling. The quiet admission of how their elegant captain’s own stepfather was a miserable drunk isn’t any help either, although that conversation had rather quickly turned from him trying to bring up the issue and into the both of them commiserating on the lack of decent father figures in the world.

From there. It just... keeps happening.

He’s watching, trying to say something and so, so easily letting pretty words and prettier eyes distract him into talking about something else. Quite frankly, it would be terrifying if it wasn’t so impressive how the captain manages to dodge his every quiet attempt by redirecting him onto something else, turning the matter around or simply accepting his concern with a smile and an easy, gentle, so very believable dismissal. Yet, he sees the results. He sees the stress and the tension. He sees the misery that before had hidden so prettily behind a polished mask, but which now spills from time to time into a slippery mess before him, catching him in its mire and leaving him floundering, breathless, and scared.

He’s the hero, the one meant to save those around him from trouble, but he’s failing a battle with a bottle that’s he’s not even touching.

Watching the result of that failure, the downward spiral, it hurts. It hurts more than blades or arrows or even poison. In a way, it is a sort of poison; a slow working thing that, while he never touched it, has infected not only his own life but those around them.

As chaos sows itself across the kingdom, poison spreads within their own number. The attention of their brothers, and indeed, most of his own, is fixed on the protection of their home, on defeating the newly risen foe, on ending things so that their lives can return in some small manner to a semblance of normalcy. And somehow, he lets his worries fall to the background, let’s his mind turn to the struggles spawning up around him with the others, with himself, with things that are ever so much more prominent than a little silver flask. Even the yelling match that sprung up between the vet and druken captain hadn’t refocused him, his attention more fixed on other things in the aftermath; Legend’s behavior, his own aggression when shouting at the captain to just cease and desist with beating the dead horse before he’d marched off after the vet.

Fighting and travel have kept him busy since, but failure is as sure a trigger as anything, or so he’s learned. Even now, he watches as the others retreat to lick their wounds, to hide away in their inn rooms, silent and mournful, blood still staining their clothes. He’s sore himself, tired, weary, too worn from the events of things over the last couple of months to actually want more than to lay down himself and sleep, but he doesn’t.

No, because when the rest of them go to hide at the inn, the captain goes off alone, a cold, dangerous, dark look in that drawn and tired face, and worry gnawing at the skyloftian’s own heart will not allow for him to even entertain thoughts of sleep, not when he’s learned to know what that look means. He lingers only as long as he must to ensure all the rest are settled, safe and stable, before darting back out onto the streets.

Watching is hard. Seeking is harder.

There’s an awful sort of feeling that comes over him at the realization that the nearest bar is mostly the new location of his straying brother but finding it in the dark is nearly as difficult as dragging himself towards it, knowing full well what he’ll find inside. He does though, he does because he has to and because it’s the right thing to do. He does it because it’s what a hero would do.

Heroes save people when they’re drawn into danger, and the devil in the bottle is slowly urging his beloved brother and friend in. A steady hiss or whisper or however it’s call manifests for the captain, and one that, if he doesn’t make it in time, he won’t be able to stop from taking hold.

He can whisper a begrudging thanks to the heavens that Warriors is a gentle drunk most of the time.

The bar-room's floor is shockingly clean when he enters, considering it’s a farming town they’ve stopped to stay in at Time’s suggestion. Faint, dusty footprints from one or two people scuff in and out, but he can see where thick ash and dirt have clumped and marched across the floor, and following the trail is the easiest thing he’s done today after fighting a far larger, far more terrifying demon.

In his mind, Sky steels himself; if he can fight Demise and come out alive, he can face up to the captain about this most worrisome coping technique. The key is simply not to let Warriors distract him with something else, so at the first mention of anything that’s not the man’s own issues, he needs to start to redirect.

Hylia above, why couldn’t those cursed goddesses have granted him even just the smallest piece of Wisdom? Charging in is the easiest part, getting through the battle with a silver-tongued soldier is the thing it seems he can’t do properly.

Glass taps on polished wood, a heavy and familiar sigh following. Trailing his eyes towards the back corner of the room, he can easily make out the bloody and worn form of his brother, slumped against a small table and already with a hand ploughing through his ash dusted hair. Warriors looks like hell. Dark bruises beneath darker eyes, face drawn and still stained with the remains of their defeat. The usually proud appearance has been crippled, uniform torn and filthy, and blood still spattered over armor, leather, and skin. The man doesn’t so much as spare him a glace as Sky settles across from him at the table, keeping the barrier between them for both their sakes.

“Hey.”

A long, drawn-out sigh sounds off the wood of the worn bar table.

Sky waits. Pressing any of his brothers is counterproductive. Sitting quietly, taking in the situation, is the best approach, letting them determine whether or not they’re ready to speak yet. He won’t push either, he just sits and rests his arms on the table, glancing the empty glass and the blessed lack of a matching bottle.

“What d’you want, Sky?” Still not even a flick of dull eyes up towards him. “Shouldn’t you be with the rest?”

He shrugs, stiff, as though he’s not being eaten up a bit with guilt at leaving them. The other adults can keep an eye on things though, and Wind was already doing a marvelous job of talking them out of their heads. It’s up to him to handle the captain though, as the sailor may or not have even been allowed inside the bar. The kid shouldn’t be here anyway, for the captain’s sake and his own.

“I didn’t feel right about letting you go off alone.”

“The kids need you right now.”

“They need you too,” he challenges, leaning a bit closer and trying to catch the turned away eyes of the other. “And I think you’d do yourself some good to be around them.”

A twitch of the fine-featured face before him is his only answer as sooty fingers toy with the empty glass between them. It’s lifted briefly, before the other man seems to check himself and realize it’s empty.

Sky needs to prevent it getting refilled. Hopefully, he can drag the captain’s ass out of here and back to their brothers before then. The key is just getting through to him, and though it feels like ages since he’d looked at the other man and found only unreadable smiles and perfection, there’s still a barrier that stops him really understanding what the captain might be thinking. Goddesses above, how is it that even Legend is easier to read than this man?

“Wars, you’re worrying me.” He tries. Slowly, softly enough that no other patrons in the place will hear him, but it seems the captain doesn’t hear it either.

No, the man just taps his glass against the table-top, distracted, and sigh so heavy he seems to shudder. “Go back, chosen.”

“No, captain.”

In battle, maybe blue eyes hold the flames of the goddesses themselves, but in the dim light of the bar, there’s only a dullness and flickering darkness that makes him want to shift and draw away. He doesn’t though, doesn’t dare. Instead, he sits under that stare for the brief second it's spared, and then the soldier is shutting his eyes with yet another heavy sigh. “Rest, you need it.”

“I can’t.” You’re here, he wants to add. You’re out here and you’re worrying me, and I can’t sleep easy until I know we’re all safe.

Fine features twitch, shifting into a frown that would be very terrifying indeed if Sky hadn’t gotten used to all the harsh looks of his team over the last while. Time’s dark looks and Warriors’ disapproval aren’t nearly as weighty all things considered, and he carefully doesn’t respond when the other looks up at him again, brows drawn low and tightly together, jaw twitching slightly. “Sky-”

“Link,” he returns, sharp to match the look he shoots at the other. Their given name slips strangely off his tongue and earns a twitch of the brows in answer. “No. I’m not letting you sit alone a stew.”

“Even if I want to?” The glass taps loudly against the table, a sharp contrast to their low voices. “Does that matter at all?”

Okay, that’s just a bomb-burr waiting for him to walk too close. “Link, please,” and the use of their shared name seems to have fingers closing tighter over the mouth of the whiskey glass, “we both know what will happen if I leave.”

His words are proved by the lack of verbal answer, instead the tapping of the glass back onto the table as dark eyes meet his. They’re blank again, impossible to read past that closed off, stern expression. It's not one he’s used to facing much these days, but he’s seen it turned on the younger ones plenty of times.

“I leave,” he presses, “and you’ll drink.”

There’s the faintest tightening again around the glass still clutched in sooty hands. “It could be worse.”

“You’re right,” he agrees, nodding slowly, “it could. I could keep ignoring it and you’ll keep getting worse.” He steels his own jaw, folding his hands if only for something to do with them before he meets the stare now fixed, heavy and harsh, on his face. “When we all met, you hardly touched the stuff save maybe after a bad battle, and I mean a really bad one.” The same as Time here and there. The same as any man likely might. A really bad day is fair enough excuse for one drink, but Warriors used to stop at one, and now he doesn’t. “Now it seems every time our backs are turned...” he motions to the glass, watches as blue eyes dart down to follow his gaze.

The captain’s hands aren’t shaking like they normally do. They’re perfectly still as he clutches hold of the empty cup.

He doesn’t like it. The tremor is normal, it is a sure sign of ease. He knows the after effects of their last battle, the magic in it, the illusions cast around them of the worst they’ve seen, worst they’d imagined, used as a distraction shook all of them, but seeing the man still so tightly wound, still so caught up in his head that his body is still responding as though he’s in immediate danger, it doesn’t sit well with him.

“Come back to the inn,” he begs. “We all-”

The sudden shriek of the chair as the soldier stands might be what cuts him off, the cold look in closed off eyes definitely is though. “I don’t know what that demon showed you, chosen, but know this: you can fight gods and you can win, but some of us have fought men and believe it or not, there’s something quite different and more terrible about that.” It’s the clipped soldier’s voice that speaks to him, resounding enough in the bar that everyone else present has fallen silent and tense, looking up from their own conversations to stare. “So go back to the inn, get over what you saw, and let me do the same here so we can face the demon again in the morning.”

“Wars-”

The other turns, heading back to the bar and no doubt with full intent to refill the glass he holds.

Sky darts after him. “Please, Link! This isn’t good for you!”

“Well, it isn’t exactly hurting you now, is it?” Is the sharp answer as barkeep approaches the two of them, wary.

For a moment, Sky debates between telling the barkeep to not serve his brother and telling the captain to just walk away. Caught betwixt, he misses the opportunity for both, too distracted, too unfocused, to slow, and when his brother motions for the bottle in the hands of the barkeep, it’s only then that he gets his wits about him enough to catch hold of the thing himself.

The barkeep darts away, no doubt eager to avoid the mess as snapping eyes fix on storm cloud blue as Sky’s voice rumbles low like thunder between them. “You doing this hurts everyone that loves you. We can’t stand to just sit back and watch anymore.”

“Well no one asked you to watch,” the captain bites, “or care.”

“But we do,” he answers back, trying desperately to catch those eyes again, “we chose to be your brothers, and thus we chose to stad beside you.”

“Then don’t blame me when your choices get you hurt.” The hand he’s set on the bottle is knocked away as, once more, Warriors turns his back on him and heads back to his table.

He’s not sure if he should chase or walk away or give up. He’s left standing for a moment before darting after, again, unable to stop the other as a finger of amber is poured and knocked back without so much as a flinch. Well, not a flinch from Warriors, he finds himself recoiling just the slightest bit as he watches.

He tries again, this time not daring to push further by touching the forbidden poison, but instead trying to break through and get the other to just look at him. “Link, please, you’re killing yourself like this.”

Dark eyes are empty, lifeless, as they turn upwards to look at him, like visions of the sealing grounds were once, thousands of years ago; barren and ruined by battle and death. “Good.”

And then it’s gone, another glass knocked back and Sky left standing, only able to watch.

What else is there to be said? What argument is left to beg, to plead, to convince? He’s the hero, he’s good with his hands, his blade, his strength. He sees foes and he crushes them. He sees allies and he aids them. But when an ally embraces the foe, what then? What’s left for him to do? What course of action is there left save to beg? And when even that fails there is nothing.

Nothing but watching, unable to go back without fulfilling his mission and unwilling to let his brother be left alone in the weakened state the quickly emptying bottle will leave him in. All he can do is watch as golden poison flows, as sooty, bloodied, burned hands lift and toss back, as glass clacks against the tabletop again only to be refilled once more. There's nothing else he can do or say. There may be other arguments, but they’re lost to him, buried instead under that horrible stare and the cracked and shattered soul that had glinted through on that single, devastating ‘good’.

It’s not the first defeat he’s faced today, but between the two, this is the one that leaves him truly helpless in it’s wake.

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu warriors #lu sky #ketto writes #technically #tbohh #the blood of heroes' history

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a-dragons-journal · 9 months

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On Questioning An Archetrope

So I'm turning over the concept of a potential paladin (or something similar) archetrope in my brain now.

I have... kind of always viewed myself as a guardian. I've been the Mom-friend, the one people go to for advice, for practically as long as I can remember. I have a protective streak a mile wide, partly due to my territorial instincts from my dragonself. I don't really want to talk about it publicly, but suffice to say that growing up I had what I would now, for lack of better words, call a rich imagined reality wherein I (and my few closest friends, though I hung onto it the longest) was a capital-G Guardian, a hero of blade and armor, a protector of the world.

Later on, in high school, those same friends and I took on a more realistic protective streak, primarily in the form of a habit of adopting girls who a) had just been through bad breakups and/or b) were being harassed/stalked by creepy boys and literally bodyguarding them throughout the day. I still fantasize about scenarios where I get to protect people, often strangers, on a regular basis, for no real reason other than it makes me feel good. I want to be that. I want to be a protector, a shield and sword for those who need it.

My first D&D character was a paladin, and a fairly stereotypical one (although not fully Lawful Stupid). Shail is a tiefling who was abandoned at a temple doorstep as a baby after they were born, raised by one of the priests as their father, and later took up arms after being inspired by a visiting paladin and took the Oath of Devotion. They were my first experiment with they/them pronouns. I am realizing their choice of class may also have been a bit of projection.

I don't know how much of this is inherent to me and how much is something I chose and how much is something I want to choose.

A brief tangent: it so happens that I very recently saw the musical Man of La Mancha, which is based on Don Quixote. While I was vaguely familiar with the story of Don Quixote, I'd never actually read or seen it in full in any form until now. I did not expect to be as touched by it as I was. Don Quixote is... for all we often make fun of him for the windmill incident, ultimately I think Don Quixote is someone we could all stand to learn from, and perhaps even to aspire to. To stubbornly, doggedly, adamantly adhere to honor and justice and a view of the world where good prevails in the end, to fight for what's right no matter the odds, to swear yourself to these things despite the way the rest of the world laughs at you - perhaps the world would be a better place if more of us were Don Quixote in this.

"A quest?" "How you must fight? And it doesn't matter whether you win or lose, if only you follow the quest."

"To dream the impossible dream. To fight the unbeatable foe. To bear with unbearable sorrow. To run where the brave dare not go. To right the unrightable wrong. To love pure and chaste from afar. To try when your arms are too weary. To reach the unreachable star."

Perhaps the recency of this exposure to Don Quixote, and my thoughts and feelings about it and about him as a character, is influencing how I'm reacting to the exposure to archetropy. Or perhaps my reaction to Man of La Mancha is indicative of my resonance with Don Quixote as someone I would argue has an archetropal identity (if of the Knight Errant rather than of the Paladin, though the two really aren't that different) himself. Perhaps both.

Either way, I think it's an admirable thing to take up such a mantle in the face of the world's cruelties - to take up the Guardian's armor and sword again, illogical as it may be, and to aspire to such a lofty ideal as this despite the way the world may consider it foolish or daft.

(And there I go getting poetic prose-y again. Perhaps that's also part of why the paladin archetype appeals to me, ha. I have been known to monologue.)

Even my job can be argued to fall into the paladin - a healer, a helper, a servant who at least tries to value The Good Of The Patient above all else. it's not quite a guardian role - but then, a paladin is often a healer as well.

On top of all of that, there's the fact that when I, out of curiosity and experimentation, put a major problem of indecision I've been facing regarding my current job hunt through the lens of "what would a paladin do," it immediately answered the question with "wouldn't let the difficulty of the task scare them off." Which didn't completely solve my problem, but solves a good solid chunk of it.

So it appears that this may be a helpful tool for me. Even if the thought of "what would Xenk Yendar do" is a slightly silly one. (And yes, Xenk Yendar is an extremely good representation of what paladin looks like to me - and perhaps it's telling that I really latched onto him as a character almost instantly upon watching Honor Among Thieves.)

Perhaps my one big hesitance to latch onto the paladin archetype is the religious connotation of a paladin - while I suppose my relationship with Asclepius could qualify, under the "paladins are also often healers" thought, Asclepius does not cover most of what draws me to the paladin archetype. But a paladin doesn't always have to be religious; in D&D paladins technically draw their power from their oath, Xenk Yendar comes up as an example of a paladin who doesn't obviously seem to have a particular god, and besides none of the alternative archetypes I'm finding or coming up with fit quite as well. The Knight Errant is close, but requires wandering in a way I am thoroughly uncomfortable with (I am still a territorial beast at heart) and also implies seeking evil rather than defending from it.

So... perhaps that's not as big a block as one might think. I'm going to chew on this a while longer, and I'm certainly open to suggestions on similar archetypes for my consideration, but... I might have tripped into a new alterhuman identity. Oops.

#archetrope #paladin archetrope #rani talks #alterhuman #journaling #community writings

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helloalycia · 8 months

Text

the king’s ward [three] // morgana pendragon

summary: as you wait for your brother to recover, you're stuck in Camelot and happen to get spend a little more time with Morgana in the process.

warning/s: mentions of blood, injury and kidnapping.

author's note: and here’s part 3! a lil cute one for those reading 🥰

one / two / four / masterlist / wattpad

By the time we reached Camelot, Y/B/N could barely stand, instead slipping from Gwen's grasp. When we passed the threshold of the front gates, I had to let Gwen and Morgana get him help as I stayed with him. He was unconscious, a puddle of blood on the back of his shirt and the arrow still lodged in his skin, stained. It could have looked worse than it was, but I was no healer, so I didn't know.

Soon enough, some knights returned and carried him on a stretcher, letting me follow. We were taken to the court physician, a kind man called Gaius who immediately got to work in treating my brother's wound. I tried to stay out of the way as he worked, but my eyes kept peering around as he removed the arrow, disinfected the wound, bandaged him up... the blood was a lot. Enough to concern me of his well-being.

"He just needs to rest," Gaius assured me, probably noticing my staring. "I've stopped the bleeding, though the arrow actually did most of that. You were right not to take it out."

I breathed out slowly, relieved. "Thank you so much, Gaius. I don't know what I would've done without your help. I thought he..." I couldn't even fathom it. Shaking my head, I met Gaius' stare. "Thank you."

He smiled and nodded. "Anything to help. Especially for the heroes who rescued the Lady Morgana and her handmaiden."

I didn't know what to say, not fond of the praise, so I took a seat beside Y/B/N's cot, watching as he slept. Sweaty, fatigued and bandaged, but alive.

It wasn't long before the doors to Gaius' quarters were opened suddenly, earning my attention. To my surprise, it was Prince Arthur himself, followed by Merlin. When Merlin caught my gaze, he offered a bright smile and a little wave, making me smile in return. Arthur looked both surprised and relieved to see me.

"Your highness," I said respectfully, bowing.

"I didn't think I'd see you again," he admitted. "But... thank you. You brought Morgana and Gwen home safe. Something not even my men and I could do."

"We couldn't just leave them," I said nonchalantly.

At the mention of my brother, his expression softened and he looked behind me. "How is he?"

"He'll be okay," I assured him. "Gaius did a perfect job. I'm grateful."

Arthur nodded. "Gaius is our very best physician. I'm glad he could get to your brother before it was too late." He paused, before asking, "What were you both doing out there?"

I shrugged, rubbing my arm with discomfort. "We were travelling, finding work. We take odd jobs, usually hired protection or entertainment. It's quick money. And plays to our best strengths."

Arthur cracked a smile, looking down with his hands on his hips. "I suppose you were always a good fighter."

I quirked a brow, wondering if he remembered when I quite literally kicked his arse, but chose not to comment.

"This will bring about a heavy reward," he continued, looking to me. "I'll see to it myself."

I shook my head. "You may have mistaken my words. I wasn't implying anything. I don't want a reward."

"You saved the King's Ward," he reminded me. "That's worth a lot."

"Her life is safe, as is Gwen's," I stated. "That's reward enough. I just want my brother to be okay."

He frowned, confused, but nodded. "If you're sure..."

"I am."

"Okay, well the King would love to thank you properly," he said, crossing his arms. "I'm sure you've had a long journey and will want to stay with your brother. The formalities can wait until tomorrow, if that's okay with you?"

I didn't want any formalities at all to be quite honest, but he was trying to be nice, so I simply nodded.

"Great," he said with finality, before nodding. "Merlin can set you up with a room for the night–"

"I'd prefer to stay with my brother tonight, if that's okay," I interrupted.

He seemed to understand. "Very well. We'll have it ready for you tomorrow then. Good evening, Y/N."

"See you tomorrow, my lord," I said with a small smile, before watching him leave.

I returned to my seat beside Y/B/N, staying close by just in case he needed me. Though now that I knew he'd be okay, all I could think about was Morgana and how she was doing. It had been so long since I'd seen her last – I was certain I'd never see her again, no matter how often I thought of her. And the way in which we met again wasn't one I ever could have imagined. The whole ordeal must have been terrifying – for both her and Gwen. I was only lucky Y/B/N and I found them when we did.

An hour passed with me sat with Y/B/N, thinking about everything and nothing at once; how we'd ended up back here in Camelot, or how long it would take for Y/B/N to get better before we had to leave; or what the King would say to me tomorrow, given the fact that he had never liked me; or about the Lady Morgana and that familiar warmth that spread through my chest when I saw her after so long.

And then just like that, the girl in question appeared at the door of Gaius' room, making me wonder if she was actually there or if my thoughts were running away from me.

"Y/N," she breathed out when she saw me, then let herself in.

Gaius, who was reading from one of his books at his desk, glanced up when he saw Morgana. She flashed him a smile, the two having seen each other earlier when he went to check over her and Gwen for injuries, and then returned her attention to me.

"How is he?" she asked with concern, grabbing a chair from the dining table and pulling it to sit beside me.

"Sleeping, but well," I answered with a tired smile. "Thanks to Gaius."

Relaxing, she smiled, and that's when I noticed how much more comfortable she looked now that she'd freshened up. "Good. I'm glad." And then her eyes flickered down my face, to my body, and to my arm. "You're hurt."

I furrowed my brows, following her stare, and realised there was a clean cut on my bicep, right through the fabric and slicing my skin. Deep maroon dried blood coated the frays of the fabric, along with my arm, and I barely felt anything signalling there was a wound. Shrugging, I looked back to Morgana.

"It's nothing," I told her, planning to leave it as is, though I knew the dangers of doing so. I was just too tired to do much more.

"It's an open wound, not nothing," she said with disapproval, dark eyes fixing me with a stare. "Gaius!"

"Morgana–"

"Yes?" Gaius called back, and I sighed when she began to ask him for help.

After narrowing my eyes at her, which didn't seem to faze her at all, I was forced to allow Gaius to clean and bandage my arm, as well as check me out for any other hidden injuries I'd missed. Once I was deemed okay by both him and Morgana, I was allowed to return to my seat.

"Satisfied?" I asked rhetorically when Morgana took her seat beside me.

"Very," she answered anyway. "I'm sure your brother would be, too."

I huffed quietly, leaning back in my seat as I stared at him. A silence fell between us and though I'd usually want to speak to her, I was too exhausted to think of anything to say.

"I owe you my life," she said, and I looked to her, unprepared to be met with how stunning she looked by the candlelight.

"You don't," I told her, recovering from my temporary stupor. "You were in danger and I helped. That's all."

Her eyes didn't leave mine, a golden-green piercing me with intrigue. "You're even better than before. Your fighting, I mean. There were half a dozen bandits and you fought them off easily."

I shrugged, unsure what to say, and forced myself to look away. She was making me nervous all of a sudden.

"What have you been up to all this time?" she asked curiously.

I told her just as I'd told Arthur, though it was a little embarrassing this time around, solely because it wasn't impressive to her and all I wanted was to do just that.

"Y/B/N takes the lead in arranging any jobs we get," I finished, my eyes fixed on my hands playing before me. "Nobody trusts a woman to handle a sword, hence the masks. If they think I'm a guy, they pay us."

"That's their loss then," she said with conviction, and it made me smile because her belief in me had always been sweeter than I deserved.

Not wanting to talk about me any longer, I glanced up at her. "You look well."

She shrugged. "I've been okay. I'm just glad to see you again."

And there was that warmth again, blossoming in my chest at both her words and the way she was looking at me. It could have been my tiredness or simply the fact that she was the most beautiful person I'd ever laid eyes on, ever, but I couldn't look away from her. The golden glow of the flickering candles made shadows dance across her cheekbones and her eyes were shards of emerald glass, twinkling and sharp as they stared through me. Suddenly, it didn't matter how we'd ended up here, just that we did, for it meant I could witness her beauty one more time.

"Y/N, if you wish to stay here tonight, you can have Merlin's bed," Gaius informed me, pulling me from my moment of admiration. Probably for the best, otherwise it would have been way too easy to get lost in Morgana.

"Thank you, Gaius, I appreciate it," I said, looking over at him in his corner of the room.

He nodded briefly before busying himself with work once more. Meanwhile, Morgana seemed to realise how late it was and reluctantly looked away, pressing her lips together. I forced myself to look away, pushing any thoughts of kissing her from my mind.

"I can't imagine how tired you must be," she said softly. "I'll leave you to it, Y/N. Sleep tight."

"You too," I returned, a heat creeping up my neck the longer I studied her figure; the purse of her lips, the shape of her jaw, the cut of her dress that exposed her collarbone and the milky-white of her pale skin.

Her hand suddenly pressed to mine and she squeezed gently, lips curving into a small smile, before she let go and left. I exhaled slowly, glad she'd left because my feelings for her were only heightening with every interaction we shared and I didn't know what to do.

When I found myself stood before the King the next morning, I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. I missed Y/B/N, who was given bed rest until his injury got better, and I didn't want to stand here as the King struggled to thank me for something I didn't want thanks for.

"It wasn't a problem," I told him after he managed to muster the words. "Quite easy, in fact. I'm just glad the Lady Morgana and Gwen are safe."

Uther nodded, side-eyeing me. "I'm sure. Those bandits... they took my knights by surprise. Otherwise they would have had it under control."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at his need to justify everything. "I'm sure of it, my lord."

Clearly unimpressed, the King met my gaze with a tense jaw. "Here's your reward."

As he nodded to his left, a servant stepped forward holding a bag – of money, no doubt.

"I don't want anything," I said as politely as I could. Especially not from him, I wanted to add.

"Y/N, please reconsider," Arthur said, stepping forward and giving me a pleading look. "We can't send you away with nothing."

"You're not," I told him. "My brother has somewhere to rest up and I have somewhere to stay until he is better. That's all I need and I'm grateful. I'll be on my way as soon as he's okay."

"Fine," the King gave in, bored.

"Y/N," Arthur tried again, but I shook my head, making him sigh. "Okay... if you need anything whilst you're here, don't be afraid to let us know."

I smiled, appreciating his generosity. Mostly because he meant it, unlike his father who was only acting out of some forced sense of duty. "I will, I promise. Thank you."

Content with my response, he nodded and motioned with his hand. "Somebody show her to her room, please."

And just like that, I was led to my new quarters that I'd be staying in for the next few days.

With Y/B/N bed-bound, I had nobody to hang around with which meant I was stuck wandering the streets of Camelot and the castle grounds. As I did, I lingered by the training grounds, recognising it from when Y/B/N and I practiced there during the tournament. That seemed like so long ago now.

Today, Arthur was sparring with his one of his knights, the two engaged in a sword fight as the others stood by and observed. I was intrigued, unable to stop myself from lingering and studying their manoeuvres and methods. After the fight ended with Arthur winning, his opponent was getting helped off to the side, another one about to take his place.

"You bored?" Arthur asked when he spotted me, quirking a brow.

I smiled with amusement, crossing my arms. "Just observing."

He wiped his face, sweaty from training, and gave me a knowing look. "I can't get you involved unfortunately."

I shrugged. "I know."

He nodded, gaze lingering on me with partial confusion, before turning to face his next opponent, another knight. They began to fight and I continued to watch, genuinely just observing out of pure interest and because it put my boredom to rest. But then Arthur groaned loudly, still fighting.

"I can't stand your staring!" he shouted between swings, glancing at me.

A laugh escaped me as my presence clearly frustrated him. "I'm just watching, is that a crime?"

He rolled his eyes before disarming his opponent in a matter of seconds. Before the knight could react, Arthur tossed the sword in the air towards me and I caught it instinctively.

"C'mon," he said to me, surprising all the knights and myself. "At least give me a challenge."

Not giving him a second to doubt himself, I quickly moved onto the grounds, grabbing whatever armour wasn't too big and heavy on me, then got into position. Arthur engaged in a challenge straight away, giving the fight his all as if he were compensating for his last defeat against me. There were many close calls for the both of us, but I was able to counter any and all his moves before he could land a strike.

When I realised the fight was going nowhere other than the two of us holding each other at bay, I decided enough was enough and let him land a hit. His sword clanged against my chest plate, knocking me on my back on the grass. Arthur immediately pressed his knee on top, sword at my throat, and cheering and clapping erupted from his fellow knights.

I expected him to be smiling when he helped me up and pulled off his helmet, but only I could see he wasn't. Instead, he leaned close, eyeing me suspiciously.

"You let me win," he stated.

I shrugged, wiping my face with my arm. "I don't want your father's lie to be disproven, do I? You're the better fighter, your highness."

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head, though he wasn't angry. "One day, we're going to fight for real and I'm going to win."

I grinned. "One day."

He shoved me in the shoulder playfully, cracking a smile, before waving his sword dismissively. "Get out of here before my father finds out about this and we're both in trouble."

I bowed sarcastically before leaving the armour and sword behind and returning to the castle to bathe. After getting everything ready for my bath, all that was left to do was get some water. As I was bringing in a bucket from the well in town, Gwen bumped into me in the castle hallway.

"Er, what are you doing?" she asked, eyes studying me with confusion.

I looked down at the bucket like it was obvious. "Filling the tub in my room?"

She sighed quietly, before attempting to grab it off me, but I declined. "That's what I'm for," she reminded me.

"I'm perfectly capable of filling my own bath tub, Gwen, don't worry," I assured her.

"It's my job," she said, tilting her head towards me with disapproval.

"You're Morgana's handmaiden, not mine," I said with a small smile. "Thank you though."

With a reluctant nod, she stepped to the side to let me pass and I continued my task of washing off the sweat I'd built up from fighting with Arthur. After doing that and replacing my bandage on my arm, I realised I was getting hungry.

Wandering around the castle halls once more, I struggled to find someone who could help me locate the kitchens.

"Are you lost?"

I spun around at the sound of a familiar voice, surprised but glad that Morgana was there. "Hi. Yes. I'm looking for the kitchen."

She chuckled, approaching me. "If it's food you're after, I can have Gwen bring some to your room."

Lifting a brow playfully, I asked, "Does Gwen do everything around here? She offered to fill my bath for me earlier."

Morgana suppressed her smile. "Hmm, very well. Let's go find the kitchen then, shall we?"

I stepped to side, motioning for her to lead the way, and she rolled her eyes playfully. Falling into step with her, she led me down some identical hallways whilst making conversation.

"I heard Arthur beat you at sword fighting earlier," she commented indifferently.

Keeping to the prince and I's agreement, I hummed. "Yep. He's good."

She scoffed quietly, earning my attention. "Y/N, you let him win."

Playing dumb, I said, "Me? Let him win? Why would I do such a thing?!"

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at me with disbelief, and I winked playfully, making her roll her eyes yet again. Though this time, a beautiful smile ghosted her lips.

"How's your arm?" she asked, changing the subject slightly.

I wiggled it between us. "Still attached."

"For goodness sake, are you always this annoying?" she asked lightheartedly.

"Apparently," I answered truthfully. "Y/B/N may attest to that, but he hardly counts. He's biased, you see. I'm the more interesting twin so he has to say that."

She massaged the bridge of her nose as she held in a laugh, and I bit my lip to contain my smile. I'd keep spouting absolute nonsense if it meant watching her fight her own amusement.

After what didn't feel like long enough, though that was to my dismay, we finally reached the castle kitchens. There were a few cooks milling about and Morgana had a quick word with one of them, to which they immediately jumped into action. Soon enough, I was presented with a plate of a variety of meats, cheese and fruit.

"Oh, er, thank you," I said, accepting the plate unexpectedly. Then I looked down. "That's a lot."

"It's good for you," Morgana encouraged.

I tried not to laugh before meeting her eyes appreciatively. "Thank you." Looking down again, I knew it was still too much food. "I'll go give some to Y/B/N. He never turns down food."

She smiled. "Sounds like a plan. He's in good hands, y'know. Gaius is the best. He's helped me far more times than I can count."

"He's been far too generous than he needs to be," I agreed. "It's good to know though, thank you."

"I'll leave you to visit your brother, but take care, yeah?" she asked, resting a hand on my arm.

"I will," I promised, smiling when her eyes met mine.

She nodded as a farewell before leaving me be. I ate some food off the plate, my hunger getting the better of me, before taking the rest of it with me to Gaius' quarters where Y/B/N was still resting. He was awake when I arrived, sat up in his makeshift bed and staring at nothing. Though when he spotted me, a bright smile appeared on his lips.

"Somebody's looking a lot better," I said, mirroring his expression. And it was true – though anything looked better than the sight of him bleeding out with an arrow sticking from his back.

"Still a little weak, but almost as good as new," he promised, before eyeing the plate in my hand. "So, whatcha got there?"

I laughed and took a seat beside him, offering him the plate. "Some food for you. Knew you couldn't resist."

As he ate, I talked and he listened. I told him about the never ending hallways of the castle and the giant room Arthur had given me for the next few days and how I could ask for anything and just get it like that and how strange it was to experience.

"That's hardly fair," was all he said afterwards, mouth full of cheese. "I'm stuck in here whilst you get to have fancy food and sleep in a fancy bed."

I stroked my chin and looked up sarcastically. "Hmm, I don't know. Maybe don't get hit by a damn arrow next time?"

He shoved me in the side and I almost fell off my chair, but the laughter still came and soon enough, his eyes were crinkling with amusement.

Half a week later and I'd already felt like we'd overstayed our welcome. Or maybe it was just the discomfort of living somewhere we didn't belong. Y/B/N was still extremely weak, but he could walk, and after much discussion, we decided to leave whilst we could.

I'd enjoyed the past few days here, between not fearing whether I'd get a next meal or being able to see and talk to Morgana whenever I wanted, but it wasn't home. I wasn't so sure where that was yet, but this place was only temporary and the last thing I wanted was to get attached. Though I feared that had already begun.

Though Y/B/N and I had declined any reward from Arthur, he still felt the need to gift us both a horse and enough supplies to last us the week. It was much more than we deserved, but we actually needed this stuff so it was harder to decline. Especially when Arthur insisted.

"I'm not taking no for an answer," he said, stopping by the horses to see us off. "You need to get around with ease. Plus, these are some pretty good horses. They'll love you in no time."

Y/B/N and I exchanged glances before I looked to Arthur with gratitude. "You didn't need to, my lord, but we're appreciative."

He nodded before pointing to my brother. "You, take care of yourself. You're not fully recovered." Then he pointed to me. "And you... you owe me a real fight some day. Don't forget it."

I cracked a smile. "I don't think I will."

Arthur seemed content with that answer, a small smile curling at his lips before he turned to stand to the side. Merlin approached us to help Y/B/N load our supplies on the horses saddles. Meanwhile, Morgana stepped forward and took me by surprise when she hugged me.

"Goodbye," she muttered in my ear, arms wrapped around my shoulders.

I returned the hug, goosebumps spreading along my skin as I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her close. She shouldn't have fit so perfectly, was all I kept thinking.

"Be safe," she added once she pulled back, close enough for me to make out the swirls of blue and green in her irises.

"I'll try," I promised.

She smiled, eyes flickering between mine, before fully letting go of my shoulders. "I hope you return one day. I'd really like that."

"I would, too," I admitted, "but the King doesn't seem to like me very much."

"Yeah, he never really was good at reading people," she said quietly. "But I am."

My heart began to race a little, the longer she stared at me, and for someone who was usually so confident, I was beginning to feel nervous. Thankfully, a pat on the shoulder from Y/B/N forced us to break eye contact and the rush of heat up my neck faded with it.

Reluctantly, I moved to mount my horse as Y/B/N did the same. The others lined up and began to wave as we said our goodbyes once more. Y/B/N took the lead and I glanced over my shoulder once more as I followed after him, eyes finding Morgana's. She was already looking my way, smiling softly as she waved goodbye, and I found myself waving back, mirroring her smile. I'd committed her to memory without even realising.

#morgana x reader #morgana pendragon x reader #morgana pendragon imagine #morgana pendragon #merlin imagine #bbc merlin #merlin #morgana pendragon x you #katie mcgrath

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howlingday · 14 days

Note

Honestly, i'm kinda disappointed in how WBYJ kinda brushed off Ruby and her issues throughout V9. So, I have taken matters into my own hands to look for a song to cheer up Ruby, and I have found it!

I now pass this song on to you to post, as I am both very unskilled a writing and very lazy. The song is Tom Cardy's H.S, and a link will be given to a tumblr post within this ask. Wether WBYJ sing it to Ruby or Jaune shares it with her as a ln apology is up to you.

https://www.tumblr.com/inthefallofasparrow/727759896307761152/hot-shit-tom-cardy?source=share

If an outside link is needed, I am willing to give the link to the YouTube video.

Sing a-long!

"Now and then, we all get a thought that stops us in our track. Am I living to my full potential, or am I holding myself back?" Jaune spins Ruby around, putting his hands on her shoulders. "You've gotta stop with that shit, 'cause you're P-P-PERFECT~!" He slid from his seat, walking away to the bookshelf. "Check out that analysis paralysis!"

"Paralysis~!" Ruby's team added, crooning from the hallway.

"If you need some help to see, take a lesson from me!" Jaune spun around, opening a book to the story of the Rusted Knight. "They say that I'm not a huntsman. Do you think that I really give a shit?" He tossed the book aside, causing Blake to jump in the air to save the spine from being ruined. "You know we're not gonna quit, 'cause we know we can take a hit, and we know what we is, and we know we is-"

Jaune spun around, tearing off his armor to reveal a pair of yellow spandex covering his body. He pointed his finger to the sky in his declaration.

"HOT SHIT~! And you know that we know it! We might never get registered, but it don't matter 'cause we know that we're still-"

"HOT SHIT~!" Team RWBY sang without their leader.

"Yeah, you're hot shit, too, so get out of your brain and do what you're 'born 'sposed to do!"

"HOT SHIT~!" WBY chimed in. "You know that we know it! Expect some real magic from us real huntress! HOT SHIT~!"

"And you're hot shit, too," Jaune pointed at Ruby, his finger inches from her face, "so get out of your way and just do what you were born to do!"

Before Ruby could argue, Jaune sat down next to her. "Before I got wise and said "gosh dangit," it's true that I was jealous of the big other huntress." He pulled out his scroll, opening to a news article published by various journalism sites. "But did you know that Winter, the biggest to you, was jealous 'cause Atlas would call her a rebel, too." He swiped to the photo album, featuring a familiar face to the red huntress. "The huntsman she was jealous of was your Uncle Qrow, who had self-comsuming thoughts that he would never become-!"

"SUMMER ROSE!" Yang held out a picture as Weiss and Blake sang with her.

"He was constantly chasing the dream that he would be so big that he'd be a legend!" Jaune left Ruby's side and stared out the window. "But trillions miles away that even Summer didn't see was a big guy strong enough to lift reality." He drew a signature S shape on the wall in chalk. "He turned his gaze into our world to see "There's a girl with a beret who's cooler than me!"

A new voice joined the choir as a woman with a black beret and dark shades entered. "But the most super awesome, coolest huntress to ever exist is probably at Vacuo saying "Now I'm seeing shit!" Coco lowered her sunglasses at the youngest leader. "I've seen a fight with a camera, I've even seen a memory lapse, but I've never seen a red huntress KICK SO MUCH ASS!"

"HOT SHIT~!" Everyone in the room was singing now. "And you know that we know it!"

Ruby stood from her seat. "I don't need to be a hero because I know that I'm still worth it, baby~!

"HOT SHIT!"

And you're hot shit, too!" Jaune wrapped an arm over Ruby's shoulder. "So stop doubting yourself and feel this huntress groove~!

"HOT SHIT~!" It seemed like everyone in Vacuo was feeling it, as singing came from down the halls in chorus. Was everyone in on this?! "And you know Ruby knows it! Expect some fucking stories from this red hoodie~! HOT SHIT~!"

"And you're hot shit, too," Jaune led Ruby out the doors, past the crowds, "so look out to the world, because we're all waiting for you~!"

Ruby stepped away from Jaune, looking down as she walked away. "Now and then, I get the thoughts that stop me in my tracks. Should I really be a huntress? Or should I just cut back?" The world held their breath as Ruby asked, fearing the worst had happened to her. "...I've got to stop with that shit 'cause I'm P-P-PERFECT!" Ruby roared to anyone who would spare the time to listen to her. "My life is fucking cool and so are you, if you only let me tell the rest of my story with yoooooooooou~!

"HOT SHIT~!" The world answered.

"And you know that I know it~!" She answered back to the world. "I might never get my register, but I'm still awesome as a leader~!

"HOT SHIT~!"

"And you're hot shit, too, so let's shoot for the stars 'til we break through the mooooooooooon~!" Ruby pointed to the sky, heedless of whether the moon was above or shattered or not or neither.

"HOT SHIT~!"

"Do you like my space metaphor~?" Jaune asked.

"HOT SHIT~!"

"Would you like to know what I use it for? To prove to you that you are hot shit, too, now stay out of my room and show Remnant what hot shit do~!"

"HOT SHIT~!" Ruby jumped through the air, cheering until she landed flat on her face. "Whuh? What just happened?"

"Emmy! You dropped it too soon!"

"Sorry, I couldn't hold it any longer."

Ruby looked up to see Jaune still sitting on his bed, patting Emerald's hand as she panted in a nearby chair. Nora loomed over her, barely held back by Lie Ren. To the other side of the room, she saw her team looking at her with mixtures of concern and worry. A gloved hand reached down to help her up, which she forgo to address the whole room and not just Oscar.

"What just happened?" Ruby asked.

"No more musical numbers." Emerald groaned.

"We... I was worried about how you were feeling since coming back from the Ever After and getting registered again, so I talked with your team and my team and, well..." Jaune shrugged. "Jaunty musical number?"

"Dude..." Ruby grumbled. "I don't care if it was your musical number or mine or Oscar's. Tricking me to sing is not cool."

"Don't blame 'em, kid." Coco said, leaning on the doorframe. "You were pretty jittery since you came back, so we all talked it over. The musical number was actually my idea, but unfortunately, I can't sing."

"Because you're too cool to sing?"

"Nah. Court order."

As Ruby balked, she looked to her team, who still didn't drop their looks of concern. As much as she wanted to be mad at being tricked into singing, she knew neither her team nor Jaune's would do this without some merit to their concern. So she relaxed a bit and sighed.

"Nobody recorded me, did they?"

#rwby #my answer #my answers #tom cardy #hot shit #hs #h.s.#ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #oscar pine #lie ren #emerald sustrai #coco adel

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esther-dot · 6 months

Note

Hello, hope you're having a pleasant day!

I've been meaning to ask you for a bit of professional jonsa opinion for a pretty long time about this little theory of mine - could that be a thing or am I being delusional jonsa (as I always do).

So in SoS, Sansa IV there is this moment in her period dream where she calls for people who could possibly protect her, her father and brothers are among this list. And it's seems like a normal thing to do - to call for her family - but, but, but, BUT! - she never calls for her mother. She never calls for arya. She calls for people (and Lady) who could theoretically actively protect her as she thinks (Dontos and Loras are here too)- so people are not there by default, her subconscious actively chooses people to call for.

And that raises one teeny tiny question. Why would she then be calling for Bran and Rikon? I can't imagine that Sansa who is old enough to see them as little boys crying in their cribs just a couple of years earlier would think of them as said brothers who can protect her/save her. Robb is understandable choice - but then who would be this at least one other brother?

So yeah, I've convinced myself that when she calls for her brothers to help she means Robb and Jon. Like, you know, all those hidden times characters think of other characters without "thinking" of them (I'm looking at you, Jon, with your little "willowy creature" and "sight so lovely" comments). Because it would be actually understandable thing - she may not be very close with boys in their childhood, but she would probably see them training or playing together or whatever noble boys do being boys. It would be enough for her to see them both as "strong brothers who could protect her in case of something bad happens" - consciously or subconsciously.

What do you think? Is it too far fetched? May be it's been discussed and I'm just unaware? I just wish we could have the level of "thinking but not actually thinking" from Sansa as we do with Jon.

Sorry, this ask came out way too long. Thank you for letting me share this thing!

Thank you! It has been A Day™ (...a week...a year….😅) Anyway, I haven't seen anyone point that out!

"No," she cried, "no, please, don't, don't," but no one paid her any heed. She shouted for Ser Dontos, for her brothers, for her dead father and her dead wolf, for gallant Ser Loras who had given her a red rose once, but none of them came. She called for the heroes from the songs, for Florian and Ser Ryam Redwyne and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, but no one heard. Women swarmed over her like weasels, pinching her legs and kicking her in the belly, and someone hit her in the face and she felt her teeth shatter. (ACOK, Sansa IV)

You know, I think you may be onto something because she is calling out to people who are in that "hero" role for her, it isn’t simply who she is close to (cuz you’re right, she doesn't call for her mother) and considering how she thinks of Bran and Rickon around that same time, it doesn't really fit her perception of them to think they're the ones she calls for?

"Sansa, did you hear? I'm to ride in the tourney today. Mother said I could." Tommen was all of eight. He reminded her of her own little brother, Bran. They were of an age. Bran was back at Winterfell, a cripple, yet safe. Sansa would have given anything to be with him. (ACOK, Sansa I) By now Arya was safe back in Winterfell, dancing and sewing, playing with Bran and baby Rickon,(ACOK, Sansa II)

As young as Robb is, she does view him as a hero who might avenge her as far back as AGOT,

After my name day feast, I'm going to raise a host and kill your brother myself. That's what I'll give you, Lady Sansa. Your brother's head." A kind of madness took over her then, and she heard herself say, "Maybe my brother will give me your head." (AGOT, Sansa VI)

and while we don't have a similar thought of Jon, we have good reason to think he might lurk as a hero figure too, considering how she romanticizes knights and thinks of the Watch:

In the songs, they were called the black knights of the Wall. (AGOT, Sansa III)

And, Jon is listed among her siblings in her next chapter, so he is in that "brother" grouping at this point in the story:

She sang for mercy, for the living and the dead alike, for Bran and Rickon and Robb, for her sister Arya and her bastard brother Jon Snow, away off on the Wall. (ACOK, Sansa V)

There's more of a distinction later, Jonsas have suggested Martin intentionally aims to create distance between her and Jon in ASOS where she seems to forget him:

But she had not forgotten his words, either. The heir to Winterfell, she would think as she lay abed at night. It's your claim they mean to wed. Sansa had grown up with three brothers. She never thought to have a claim, but with Bran and Rickon dead . . . It doesn't matter, there's still Robb, he's a man grown now, and soon he'll wed and have a son. (ASOS, Sansa II)

That exclusion might just be because she's thinking of who has a claim? It certainly heightens the "alone in the world" feeling she has in ASOS and AFFC until our favorite moment,

Oh, and the Night's Watch has a boy commander, some bastard son of Eddard Stark's." "Jon Snow?" she blurted out, surprised. "Snow? Yes, it would be Snow, I suppose." She had not thought of Jon in ages. He was only her half brother, but still . . . with Robb and Bran and Rickon dead, Jon Snow was the only brother that remained to her. I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again. But of course that could never be. Alayne Stone had no brothers, baseborn or otherwise. (AFFC, Alayne II)

Where he returns to being "brother." So no, I don't think this is far fetched at all, especially when Martin has designated Jon as her hero, a fun twist we don't get until ADWD and will truly play out in TWOW, so it makes sense to me that he wouldn't name Jon (to kinda, preserve the element of surprise), but that upon their reunion we will see that even though Jon and Sansa aren't close and Sansa will have this curious, brother and yet not quite, view of him, it's a positive light in which she sees him, a heroic light.

I buy it, anon! Thank you for sharing this theory. I fully support any and all Jonsa delusions! 🥰

#jonsa #dot chat

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tobitofunction · 1 year

Text

Child of Mine

The children of one of the Champions look suspiciously like the Hero of Hyrule aka Harwin Strong and Rhaenyra from HOTD minus the death

TW: childbirth, pain of childbirth and blood

Also just for clarity:

Alec- oldest (your hair colour + blue eyes), Lenor- middle (blond + blue eyes but looks like you)

Jace- youngest (looks like a mix between both you and Link)

Part2

The sounds of a crying newborn filled the room which was previously filled with the sounds of screaming, crying and cursing from a certain Champion,” It’s a boy. Hylia bless the mother” a nurse said handing you the newborn, tears of joy began rolling down your sweaty cheeks,” Is he healthy?”,” Kicking like a horse, my lady” the nurse said with a smile, you giggled and pressed your lips against his small head, the baby snuggled into your embrace,” Lady y/n, the Queen wants to see the baby” a maid said, it was Zelda’s personal maid, you didn’t say anything but just pulled the blanket closer over your son before you slowly got up with the help of the nurses and maids,” I will take him myself than” you said closing your eyes as you felt a sting of pain flow through your body and blood flow down your legs,” You should remain in bed, my Lady. The Queen wouldn’t want you in any pain” the maid said trying to get you back down on the bed,” Get me dressed” you said ignoring what she said previously. You sighed in pain as they began dressing you, the baby in your arms seemed to have fallen asleep but it didn’t last long as you had to hand the baby over so you could be dressed probably, the second the baby left your arms, his cries began to fill the room again making your heart clench.

“How much do you wanna bet that the child was born with suspicious golden hair or brilliantly blue eyes?” Teba asked playing with his bow,” Shh” Yunbo said nervously looking around for either the Queen or her loyal knight,” Why? We can all see it, well all besides our Queen and that husband of hers” Teba continued,” Are you sure that Master Link is the father? Lady Y/N, the husband is a Sheikah, isn’t there a small possibility -”,” How does a white-haired man with red eyes and a woman with h/c and e/c make children with golden blond hair and brilliant blue eyes, Mmmh?” Teba cut the young Goron off,” You might be a Champion but your words still will be seen as treason,” Riju said making the Rito roll his eyes,” I am just being truthful”l,” Nature works in mysterious ways, my friend”, Sidon reasoned”,” I don’t care if Link is the father but I doubt the Sheikah’s would like someone being their chief with no blood connection to them” Teba shrugged, soon Zelda entered the room ending the questioning of your children parentage.” Did the maid bring the baby yet?” Zelda asked hopeful, just at this moment you walked in with the baby in your arms, and your husband Priven who was at your side helping you walk,” Y/N, why are you walking? You need to be in bed” Zelda gasped,” You wanted to see the baby” you said with a fake smile trying to mask the pain,” I didn’t expect you to bring the child, I should have come to you” she said with a sigh,” Here sit” she said helping you sit down,” He looks so cute” Zelda smiled peaking down at the child,” The two of you must be happy, he kind of looks like you Lord Priven” she said looking between you and your husband who smiled widely, you looked Priven up and down before giving a fake smile,” Can I hold him?” you nodded, Zelda smiled when you handed her the newborn, a small cry left the boy but he settled in quickly in the arms of the Queen,” Do you have a name?” she asked,” No-“,” Jace” your husband said cutting you off, you gave him an annoyed look,” An unusual name for a Sheikah?” Teba said gaining an elbow in the ribs from Riju,” How would you know? You aren’t Sheikah after all” she lifted a brow making the white Rite grumble” Did the birth go alright,” Riju then asked sitting down beside you,” I called the midwife a cunt, so all went well” you smiled,” If you're in much pain, I could try to heal you,” Sidon said,” I have been practising” he added, you gave him a smile,” I should be fine Sidon, he isn’t my first child, but thank you. Talking about children where are my other sons?”,”They’re with Link in their chambers” Zelda said cooing at the baby in her arms,” One day you might get a baby which will actually look like you?” Teba commented looking at the child and back at Priven, who nodded with a tight-lipped smile, you send the large bird a glare before looking at Zelda who didn’t seem to hear the comment,” We should see the children, they probably want to meet their baby brother” you said slowly getting up with the help of Riju and Sidon.

Link meanwhile watched the two boys playing with their toys with a fond smile,” Master Link, do you believe we get another brother?” the former youngest of your sons asked, his striking blue eyes staring into Link’s,” There is a possibility” he said ruffling his blond locks. The door swung open revelling you and your husband,” Mom, Dad look what we made for the baby” Alec your oldest said,” Purah helped us make it” Lenor said holding up the egg,” It’s a Sheikah egg” he added,” I let Lenor choose the design” Alec said making you ruffle his hair which was identical to yours,” That’s very sweet of you” you said sitting down in the couch,” How was the birth?” Link asked,” Painful like the others but it was worth it,” you said smiling down at the boy,” Have a name in place already?” you hummed,” My dear husband has,” you said looking up at the Sheikah male,” Jace” he smiled happily making Link nod,” Would it be alright for me to hold him?” Link said his eyes lingering on the sleeping baby in your arms,” Of course, come on boys. Let’s give some privacy to your mother and the baby. Sidon is still here if you’re fast enough you might still catch him” he said making the two boys faces light up with happiness and making them speed out the room. The Sheikah male turned to you and Link, he gave you a nod and a small smile before walking out of the room. Once they were gone you handed Link the baby,” He looks like a good mix from the both of us” you whispered, making Link blush and nod,” Hey, don’t sleep in front of Hyrule’s Knight Commander” Link said to sleep child making you chuckle, Link gently stroked the babies soft cheek with his thump,” It gets harder every time I see you guys, seeing the boys, how they carry some of my features but knowing that they never call me what they call your husband” he said looking down at Jace who was snoring softly. You sighed, you loved Link and he loves you back, but Link was the hero of Hyrule, his purpose was to protect the goddess descended and defeat the evil, this doesn’t leave much space for a wife and kids, doesn’t matter how much Link wants to, he doesn’t want his family to live in constant danger. So when Impa proposed a marriage between her grandchildren and one of the Champion it seemed like a gift, as the Priven who was the oldest of her Grandchildren, seemed to have little interest in you, so he agreed to the bargain of Link fathering the children and he just have to keep up the good husband and loving father front with you as his loyal wife, but another promise of never telling the children about their actual father was also put in place, something Link thought would be okay for him, as it was for their own safety but he never thought that it would hurt so much seeing his boys call someone else father,” Once the Sheikah elders find out it’s over for us...me” you said rubbing your now empty belly,” I hate to say it to you but the Sheikah’s are already talking” you bit your lip at Link’s words,” I know, so are our fellow Champion’s and your fellow knights, some are nicer than the others” you confessed,” Tell me who they are and I make sure they regret it” Link said with narrowed eyes,” Don’t, it will only bring more suspicion on you” you caressed his face gently,” I love you Link”,”I love you y/n” he said gently kissing you.

The door swung open revealing Zelda, the two of you jumped apart” Isn’t he the cutest?” Zelda asked Link plopping down beside him,” I don’t know how you do it y/n, 3 children. Maybe one day I can experience this as well” she said looking at the baby in her friend's arms blissfully unaware of the situation.” Zelda? Have you heard any rumours about my son’s parentage?” you asked as Link’s eyes widened,” Yes, but do not worry anyone who dares to spread those lies while punished” Zelda said firmly looking at you,” Thank you” you said trying to avoid her gaze.

“Lady Impa, news from the castle. Lady y/n gave birth to another boy” a messenger said,” Another boy, how wonderful” Impa said,” Those this message state a certain resemblance to the hero of Hyrule?” Robbie hummed making Impa shoot him a look,” Robbie please”, Robbie shrugged,” We all know it’s true. I love those kids but they aren’t Sheikah”,” Be careful my friend, these words can be seen as treason and the Queen won’t be kind on those who question the children’s parentage” Symin, Purah’s assistant said,” Not only that but blood doesn’t make family, love does and my grandson loves those boys to bits” Impa said,” Tell that to the other elder’s, they won’t see it as you do Impa” Robbie said making Impa sigh,” Your right but I am the Village main elder, so they will have to suck it up like the younglings say”.

Link walked outside the Castle, the boys were currently training with a fellow knight, a knight who doesn’t seem to like Link in the slightest,” Hello Commander” he said with a smirk,” Hello, how is the training going?” Link asked folding his arms over his chest,” Those boys are sloppy, which is surprising for having two- I mean one parent who is a Champion and another as Sheikah” he said making Link bit the inside of his cheek,” Well they are quite young, give them time” Link said,” Yeah, it’s just surprising, as you were besting soldier at their age and even pulled that fancy sword” he shrugged,” What do I have to do with it?”Link lifted a brow,” Oh nothing Commander, just because you put some much effort into their sword training and it’s not even showing progress” he said,” How I said they’re doing fine” Link said when suddenly Alec crashed to the ground, a small whimper leaving his mouth,” Alec, are you alright?” Link asked helping him up,” Yeah, I am fine Master Link,” he said dusting the dirt off his clothes, Link nodded and picked up the wooden sword he dropped,” Commander you need to stop babying them. If you want them to be like you, like father and-”,” Finish that sentence and you be done for” Link snapped,” Why? It was just a metaphor. It’s rare to see someone put so much effort into a child, usually, we see this kind of care only for family” he smirked. Link clenched his jaw, his fist tightening around the wooden sword. The Knight was about to say something when a familiar voice cut him off,” Link, may I speak to you?” Zelda said sternly, Link nodded and shoved the wooden sword into the knight's chest.

“Are you the father of y/n children? Tell me the truth” Zelda began as the two friends entered her chambers,” No-”,” Don’t lie to me, please, aren’t we friend?” she said softly. Linked hummed,” What gave it away?”,” Your reaction to the Knights' teasing. You usually don’t care about rumours, you brush them off like it’s nothing but all of a sudden this rumour made you nearly punch one of your knights”,” It’s a rumour about my honour, of course-”,” There were rumours about us being lovers, that you and Mipha were secretly married even though it was against her father wishes. These were rumours which could have damaged your honour as well but you didn’t care” Link sighed again,” I love her Zelda, and I love my boys. I don’t regret anything” he admitted,” Then why didn’t you say anything. I would have wedded the two of you in seconds” she sighed in frustration,” It’s not that. I’m the Hero of Hyrule, I have so many enemies. If they find out that y/n is my heart and that her boys were fathered by me, people will come after them. I couldn’t live with myself if they died or even got hurt because of me. Having Impa’s Grandson as a father to them is safe, no one would dare touch them, as in their eyes they can’t prove that I am the father of them. Blond hair isn’t evidenced enough when the father is white-haired” Link said making Zelda nod,” I understand, I won’t tell anyone but please, stop having kids. You two are walking a very fine line here” Zelda warned Link, nodded knowing she is right,” I thought I was going crazy, I know nature works in mysterious ways but when I see one of the boys they always reminded me of you somehow, either in personality or looks, but now I am glad that I am not crazy” she joked lightening the mood,” They got some of my features, yeah but they mostly take after their mother” Link nodded,” Thankfully, as a few similarities to you can be explained away but a child which looks like you exactly will be impossible-”,” I know” Link cut her off.

Zelda watched as your boys were saying their goodbyes to the other Champions, mostly to Sidon, who the boys adore and vice versa. Alec's blond looks glisten in the sun, identical to her knight,” You called for me?” your voice said from behind her,” I’m sorry for disturbing you, but I wanted to talk to you” Zelda said helping you sit down,” It’s fine the baby is sleeping” you smiled,” I know about you and Link” Zelda said directly making your smile drop,” I don’t-“,” Y/N, please don’t lie” you looked at your lap,” I’m so sorry” you whispered, Zelda sighed and grabbed your hand, giving them a squeeze,” It’s fine, I just feel so stupid that I didn’t see it from the beginning” she scoffed with a smile,” Maybe it’s a good thing?” you said softly making her nod,” Hopefully not many people will continue to see the resemblance” she gave your hand another squeeze,” I love your children very much, and I will do whatever is in my power to make sure they are safe” you placed your other hand on top of hers and gave a grateful smile,” Thank you”. The door suddenly swung open revealing Link,” The Yiga clan, they have attacked Lord Priven on his way to the Sheikah Village” Link said, you gasped and Zelda’s eyes widened,” Do the boys-”,” No, they aren’t aware of this, yet” Link answered you,” How is his condition?” Zelda asked,” Impa message said it was critical, they will try everything in their power to bring him back to health” Link said,” Why was he attacked? The Yiga never posted a problem to him... us” Link sighed,” I wish I knew, but until your husband recovered we will not know” Link said softly,” Link, make sure the Champion’s don’t leave and when they have sent a messenger for them to turn back. I have a feeling this attack has something bigger in mind” Zelda said getting up and folding her hands together, Link nodded, his gaze was fixed on you who was staring into the ground.”I leave the two of you” she said walking past Link, she patted his shoulder before leaving her room.

“Is it our fault? Did the Yiga clan find out about us? Is that their way of telling us?” you said, Link sat down beside you, grabbed your hand and placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles,” Don’t blame yourself, my love, Priven was the grandson of Impa, they might have targeted him for this” Link said, “ After 25 years? He never was attacked by a Yiga member, not even once. People have been whispering about our children for years, maybe it has been to a larger extent than we thought” Link didn't answer, knowing that you are probably right. He wrapped his arm around your body and pulled you closer to his,” Whatever will happen, I will protect you and the boys, even if it means dying” Link said cupping your chin and looking into your eyes, which had tears building in them,” I never felt so scared Link, if something happens to them-”,” I won’t let that happen. You and the boys are my worlds, and I rather see Hyrule burn down than see you or the boys hurt” you smiled sadly at him,” If Hyrule burned down we wouldn't have a place to live, so you better not let this burn down” you joked making Link chuckle, you kissed his lips,” You need to go, I will be fine. I’m just a little bit useless right now” you said,” You gave birth a few hours ago, you are allowed to be” he said getting up.

#botw link x reader #botw x reader #loz link #loz breath of the wild #loz x reader #loz link x reader #legend of zelda link #legend of zelda #botw zelda #botw sidon #botw teba #botw riju #botw yunobo #Botw sheikah #botw yiga

199 notes · View notes

forgodsgoddamnsake · 1 month

Text

HELL'S ANGELS - 1st

Hello, girlies!

I have a new fanfiction which is this one obviously. Let me tell you that I'm falling in love with strong women. I have this urge to write about strong women, not lovey-dovey girls. I think that we need to focus on ourselves more, women should be the heroines of their stories. That is why I like girls in my stories to be strong and be the main character. This doesn't mean that Harry in this case is not considered a main character or a hero, but I feel like we all need to appreciate being loved with our strengths, weakness and everything.

Please note that it's called fiction for a reason, I AM IN LOVE WITH ITALIAN culture whatever it is. The whereabouts of this story won't be mentioned at all and you'll know why. Though this story contains italian names and language, it's not in Italy. It's not in america, it's not anywhere. Just expand your imagination;)

Warning: THE WHOLE STORY will include either smut, guns, language, mentions of rape, mentions of prostitution, drugs, murder, and so much more.

Don't forget to give me your comments, it keeps me going.

Like most girls? No, I am not.

I am the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the whole world. The one and only child of Paolo Cappitani, the older son of Donatello Cappitani, the mafia king. Paolo Cappitani doesn’t have children other than me, Y/N Cappitani, and he didn’t raise me like most fathers raise their daughters in out community. Most girls were beautiful things that get married and have kids just to tighten the strings among the powerful families, but not me. I was raised to be tough enough to take a full-grown man down with my bare hands. I’m so involved in my family business and that makes me the second powerful member of the Cappitani family. None of my family members could break Paolo's orders and that grants me the full respect of every single one of them, although some of them objected on how a girl be the second ‘Man’. Paolo Cappitani had one wife, Alessandra Cappitani, my mother, they had me before she died of complications of giving birth to me. So, I grew up without my mother and only had my father take care of me. Paolo never wanted another woman in his life, that was why he refused all the requests he received from his family to re-marry. He loved one woman only, and only one woman shall stay in his heart till he followed.

I look like my mother so much, that makes my father love me even more, because I’m his daughter from the woman he loved so much. He wanted to give me the world, not wanting to raise me like other girls just to give me off to another man. Paolo’s daughter must be a powerful, independent girl who wouldn’t need a man in her life. The way he raised me made me turn down all men that took interest in me, I don’t need them. What a man can add in my life? Nothing.

I’m experienced with guns, all kinds of knives and boxing. The exact opposite of typical lovey-dovey daughter of a mafia head.

But. But I kept my feminine appearance. Although I’m not a ray of sunshine, I am definitely a beautiful woman. My taste of clothes doesn’t match other girls, I prefer staying in the men’s gatherings other than having to sit all day with girls speaking of their dream knight in shining armor. I am my knight in the shining armor, so no need to hear about all the gossip and little talks about men and boys.

There is this day, my father is sick enough to not attend a business meeting with one of the most powerful families in the world. The Styles’ family. Since I’m the second in command, I take it upon myself to attend the meeting with my uncles and cousins. I stand in my room, giving myself the last look in the mirror. I wear short black leather skirt and a black shirt; my hair is up in a sleek bun. I keep my gun wrapped around my thigh and the silver knife in its housing under my shirt as I make my way out of my room. We are having the meeting at my family’s mansion, having dinner with the Styles before talking business. The Styles has already arrived, and my uncles give them the warmest welcomes before they sat at the long dining table.

The mansion is modern-styled, bullet-proof glass and mafia scents.

I make my way down the stairs, making sure I don't trip in the high heel boots. Bianca, my cousin, walks to me, excited. Bianca is a beautiful girl, raised in the traditional way, has long hair just like mine and hazel eyes. Hazel eyes are the signature gene in the Cappitani family, I have these as well.

“Y/N, the Styles are here! You should see Edward’s son, he’s so cute!” She said in her excited tone, holding a bowl of salad in her hand. I give her a small smile, looking at the bowl she’s holding. If I wasn’t the only daughter of Paolo, I could had been in her position. But I'm not in her position, Bianca has a bowl of salad in her hand, while I have a gun under my skirt and a knife under my shirt.

“I’m sure he’ll be interested meeting my beautiful cousin.” I wink at her before walking towards the dining room.

The dining room is spacious, has bullet-proof panoramic windows, a few portraits hanging on the wall. The most significant portrait is the one that had my father’s face on it, sitting on his armchair in a black expensive suit. A crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling; black chairs surrounding the glass dining table.

I go in the dining room, my boots clicking on the floor. The seat of my father is empty, so then, it is mine to claim. I take a seat at the head of the table, men on their chairs. The only faces that are familiar are my family's, all of them have hazel eyes, but the green ones are the Styles’. Edward Styles sits next to my uncle, and next to Edward is a handsome man, must be his son, Harry Styles. I don't give a smile, but I nod my head in respect.

“It’s an honor to finally meet the Styles family and at our home.” I welcome in a professional tone.

“Thank you, young lady, I’m not quite familiar with you, yet.” Edward Styles nods back.

“This is-“ My uncle, Antonio Cappitani, tried to answer, but I interrupt him.

“I’m Y/N Cappitani, the only child of Paolo Cappitani. He sends his apologies that he can’t attend our little dinner due to his illness.” I answer without giving even a hint of a smile.

“May god heal him.” Edward says, inspecting my attitude. “I’ve heard so much about you, Ms. Cappitani. Your father must be so proud to raise such a beautiful girl like you.”

“Thank you, sir, but I’m not a girl. I’m the woman of the Cappitani family.” I correct him as the girls of my family bring the food to the table.

“You sound so arrogant.” Harry comments. It is the first time I hear his voice. His voice is deep just like his father’s, but that shall not be something to intimidate me. I can intimidate a whole country; a pair of green eyes and a deep voice cannot intimidate me. The girls have left us alone to eat.

“I am, thank you.” I give a half smirk.

“Let’s eat, please.” My cousin, Leonardo, says.

I start eating in silence, everybody is making small chats during eating. Cousins are chatting with Harry and his cousins, my uncles chatting with Edward and his brother. I prefer to stay silent.

Silence means so much to me. I don't speak too much because I want my words, whenever they come out, to matter. People can only appreciate the words of a person that doesn't talk much.

Harry’s eyes look at me from time to time, he isn't used to seeing girls in meetings, but he has heard so much about me already to know I am different from other girls.

The first time he heard about me was when the rumor had it that I killed a traitor when I was only seventeen. Killing is a big deal, and when it comes to women, it was a major deal. But he never imagined the girl that everybody talked about in the mafia business could be this beautiful with long hair and captivating hazel eyes.

I don't smile much or give expressions. He notices that, but he doesn't know that I am raised to not give too many expressions. Expressions can be easily read, and a readable person can never rule, and since I was raised to rule, my expressions are little.

“Tell me, young lady, how are things going on in your life? Found a husband yet?” Edward asks me. I raise my eyes from my plate to look him in the eyes, not giving an expression as usual though I am startled by the question. I swallow the food in my mouth, “No, sir, I’m not planning on finding a husband.”

“That must be a shame, a beautiful woman like you can easily get herself a husband.” Edward says and my uncles nod in agreement. I swipe my eyes at my uncles, glaring at them with my expressionless eyes.

“I can easily find myself anything I want, Mr. Styles. A husband is the least of my worries. There are better things to look forward to.” I raise my chin up as I finish my sentence.

Harry’s eyes are on me, he likes the arrogant attitude of mine though he hates admitting that to himself. The way I am dressed, the look in my eyes, my soft expressionless face and the smile I never give are all different from what he's used to see whether among the families or girls in the outside world.

“And what are those things?” Edward asks with an arched eyebrow.

“Keeping my family’s name up, making more money, and last but not least, making my father proud of his only daughter.”

Edward likes my answer, and he likes me even though he is provoking me to get answers.

“Since we all have finished our plates, would you like to join in the study?” I politely ask them, and they nod. I am the first to stand up and walk out of the dining room to the study. That is another thing I was taught, the first to stand up is the boss.

The study has warm colors, beautified with plants and portraits. The desk of my father is gigantic and his chair that stands behind the desk is long enough to give superiority to whoever takes a seat. I make my way to my father’s chair, take a seat and behind me are the men. To say the least, my family hates whenever I am in control, but the power of my father’s word and the way I rule things have them muffle their nasty words.

There are enough seats for all members of all families, and they all take their seats, chatting and waiting for the drinks. I pull out my pack of cigarettes and pull one to place between my lips that are covered in red lipstick, I light the tip of the cigarette and watch everyone’s faces.

I grew the habit of smoking when I became nineteen years old, my father doesn't like seeing me smoke so I don't smoke in front of him, but the rest of the family cannot disagree. I was raised to have a man’s brains in the body of a golden girl so that was no surprise for them.

Most of the men also start smoking, and I can only picture the power I have at that moment. With bookshelves like a library behind my chair, portraits of the most-known painters in the world hung on the walls, my cigarette and my attitude.

Girls of my family bring drinks, wine and tea. One hell of a mixture. Some of the girls giggle a little, looking at the young men, especially Harry. I just roll my eyes at their attitude and order them to step outside.

“So, tell me Mr. Styles, how can the Cappitani tighten their strengths as you previously mentioned to my father?” I hold my glass of wine in the same hand that has the cigarette, pulling the glass up to my mouth.

Edward clears his throat, knowing very well that he shall not discuss that topic with me. “Ms. Cappitani, you must know that our families have the upper hands in this country. We need to know that there will be no conflict of interest going on between the Styles and the Cappitani.”

“Of course, tightening both families will give us unlimited opportunities in the business.” my uncle, Antonio, says.

“Right, we need to know that anything between our families will be discussed with anything but blood.” my other uncle Lorenzo, agrees.

I can smell an arranged marriage from a mile away, their eyes must have been on one of the girls in the home of the Cappitani.

“Tell me, what do you have in mind, Mr. Styles?” I ask, chin up.

He smiles, “As you know, young lady, all’s fair in love and war.” I nod at his words, encouraging him to continue.

“We don’t want war, we want the love. That’s why we would like to ask for your hand.”

Surprise? Absolutely. But they can't know that, so I keep my face as it was before he gave me his request. I raise my glass to my lips again, take a sip and place it on the desk. My cousin, Leonardo, says, “We would be hon-“ I interrupt him with the knife I pull out of my shirt and let its sharp tip hit the hard wood of my father’s desk.

“Leo, think twice before you speak.” I glare at him. I look at Edward again, “Mr. Styles, as I said, I’m not looking for a husband. We have the most beautiful girls you could see, any of them would be honored to marry one of the Styles.”

“You wouldn’t?” Edward narrows his eyes a little.

“Of course, I would, but I have different goals in life, and since your request’s base is to tighten the relationship between our families, then any girl will be happy to be the one.”

“But we want you.”

The man is intent, I give him that, but just when I am about to refuse politely once again. The door of the study has opened to show my father’s face, Paolo Cappitani. He looks sick, his face is pale, and he can barely hold himself on his feet. I stand up from my chair as all of my family members do, I walk to him to help him take his seat that I had a moment ago. He sits down and I stand next to him.

“How are you, Edward? I haven’t seen you since your mustache.” My father points at his mustache, referring to the mustache Edward has, my father laughs as everyone else.

“I’m very good, Paolo. I hope you feel better soon.” Edward is extra polite with Paolo. My father is much older than Edward so that makes sense.

“Thank you, my friend. I heard you were asking for my daughter’s hand.” Paolo’s voice is hoarse, he is very sick, but he has to have this discussion by himself, because he knows I'll start war if he isn't there.

“Yes, Paolo, Ms. Cappitani is a nice lady.”

“I think you heard her saying that we have many girls, why her?” Straight to the point, score, Paolo.

“Our family needs a powerful female figure, I-I have cancer, Paolo. I’m not going to stay on this earth for too long, so that’s why we need two powerful personalities to rule my family.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t, I made peace with my cancer. The serious problem here is that my family will face serious trouble if only one-person rule after me, because of the issue you know about.”

“Yes, yes, I know. Go on.”

“I’ve heard so much about Ms. Cappitani. You raised a really powerful, beautiful woman, and a woman like her will be a huge addition to my family.”

“But, Edward, you must know that my girl puts her family first. She’ll like to only serve to her family’s side.”

“I know, but we will be one family by marriage. I just need her to pull my family together along with my son.”

“Oh, so you must be the groom, young man.” Paolo directs his words to the green-eyed Harry sitting next to his father.

“He can’t rule his own family and needs assistance?” I scoff.

“Y/N, go get some fresh air.” My father orders without taking his eyes off of Harry.

I nod and get out of the study, feeling disrespected, but he is my father so there is nothing to do about it.

I take a walk in the garden of the mansion, putting another cigarette in between my lips.

There is no way my father is going to throw me to the Styles. I only want to rule my own family, never not even for once I thought of marriage. Not too long after, I feel a figure stand next to me, pulling his own cigarette. Without even glancing, I know that he is the green-eyed jerk.

Harry is handsome just like his father, but I couldn’t care less about his appearance at that moment.

“I don’t want to marry you, by the way.” Harry starts, exhaling the smoke.

“Do I look like I give the teeniest, tiniest fuck about what you want?” I look at him, glaring at his provoking green eyes.

“No, but this arranged marriage is the best option for our families.”

“For your family.” I correct, throwing my cigarette. “Not my problem that you’re a fragile guy that can’t rule on his own. Grow some balls, will you?”

“I could strangle you right here, right now.” He smirks, getting irritated and throwing his cigarette.

“Well, let’s see who’ll do it first?” I pull my gun as he pulls his. The tip of my gun is under his chin, his is right on my chest. We both stare into each other’s eyes, glaring.

Though his eyes are so beautiful, they only provok me more to shoot him.

“Hey, kids! Play nice.” Edward’s voice yells, walking out of the mansion and behind him his family’s men and some members of my family including my father.

“Y/N, put the gun down.” My father says, but my eyes are still on Harry.

“Harry, you too.” Edward says.

I bite my bottom lip to contain my anger while Harry glares at me one last time. We both put our guns down, I gave Harry an eye of disgust before walking away.

“Bitch.” Harry mutters to himself.

“Son of a bitch.” I mutter to myself as I walk by the men and into the mansion.

“They’re meant for each other.” Edward laughs, looking at Harry who’s walking towards them.

“I’ll give you an answer to your request as soon as possible, Edward.” Paolo assures Edward before they say their good-byes.

Harry is in the car with his dad, driving back home. Harry can't keep silence like Edward, so he speaks as he’s driving with his two hands, he only does that when he’s anxious. Usually, Harry would drive with one arm.

The arrogance that surrounds you like an aura, he’s not fond of, so he has to fight to not marry the girl with an attitude of a rebel man.

“Dad, I hate her! Let me marry any other girl, but not that bitch.”

“Language, Harry.”

“I’m not fifteen, dad. I HATE HER. She’s so arrogant, did you see how she spoke?”

“She was raised to rule, Harry. It’s not easy for her to act all girly like the girls you do every day!”

“I don’t need her.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Dad, please, she’s acting like the queen of the world.”

“She was raised this way for god’s sake, Harry. A girl like her will be a great partner for you. We need her, and that’s final.”

Harry huffs at his father’s words. Is fate easily broken? No, it is not. If it’s his fate to spend the rest of his life with a woman he wishes he could kill every day, his hands will be tied, and he’ll be forced to act just like the fate has decided. The bleak fate of his marriage to Y/N Cappitani, the second ‘Man’.

“If you’re even considering their request, father, I’ll kill myself. If he desperately wants my hand, I’ll chop it off for him.” I angrily threaten, standing in my father’s study, surrounded by my family.

“Y/n, you need to calm down.” Paolo rolls his eyes at me as I’m walking back and forth.

“I’m not calming down, why does he think I’ll just accept?”

“Back in my days, girls didn’t have a say in marriage.” My uncle, Antonio, scoffs. Uncle Antonio is a thorn in my side, he is the second born to my grandfather. I’m certain that he wishes that my father dies so he can get rid of me so he can rule, but to his misfortune I’m not going anywhere. He can rule over my dead body.

“When was that? The pharaohs era?” I sarcastically ask, crossing my arms and looking directly to him.

I am perfectly aware that this shouldn’t be my attitude, especially to my uncles, but I am unable to control my anger if somebody lays a finger on my future.

“Y/N!” My father warns before he takes a look to our family members. “Please, give me a moment alone with my daughter.”

As they do as they’re told, my uncle Antonio while walking out past me, glares into my eyes, but that shall not be a problem, I can glare, too. A boy is all it takes to avoid such conflict in the family, but my father could never betray his beloved Alessandra. Paolo Cappitani knows for sure that this is only the calm before the storm. He knows that I will start war in my own family, not because I’m so determined to rule, no. It is because this is what my father raised me to do.

When everyone is out, Paolo sighs deeply, like he’s carrying a hundred stones in his chest that he can’t get rid of. The storm is coming.

“Take a seat, y/n.” He softly asks me.

I take what he says as an order, so I do what I’m ordered and take a seat on the chair by his desk.

“Sei diventata una ragazza così bella.” Paolo says, looking into the figure of his only daughter who only took so little of how he looks, rather I took every beautiful feature of my mother. Telling me that I’ve grown to become such a beautiful girl, means a lot to me, but he only gives the first sweet talks when he wants to get me to do something I don’t want.

“Thank you, father.” I, politely, nod.

“The Styles and our family have one common enemy, as you already know,”

“Yes, the Scavo.”

“Exactly. The Styles, currently, are facing serious trouble with the Scavo, some of their family members are turning against their own family and joining the Scavo as they think Edward is about to die and that Harry is not fit to become the ruler of their family. The situation, if you noticed, is so similar to ours. When I die, some of the family will turn on you and object your ruling. This situation requires a powerful tie so you and Harry could take down the Scavo and keep the families intact.”

“But, father-“

“Let me finish, will you? Harry, also, is a tough guy and that is why you both need to get married. He is not in need for just a pretty wife to have his kids, he needs a strong woman like you to keep his family together. And when my time comes, you’ll need him, too. The next heirs of both families marrying, you are a perfect match, y/n.”

His words have this undeniable effect on me, I never thought of the situation like this. Unfortunately, he sounds so right. My uncles will turn against me once my father dies, god forbid, and the battle I had in mind will not be an equal one if it’s me against my family and the Scavo.

“Okay, father, but I have two conditions.”

The day has come.

I’ve never even thought that I will be engaged before Bianca, my cousin, on the contrary, I’ve thought that I’ll be the last to get engaged if not ever. Today, I’m looking into the mirror to see myself wearing a Champagne silky long dress, unlike the other girls’ dresses, my dress is not so modest. The Champagne dress was satin silk, the V-neck showing enough cleavage while my back is in full exposure in the backless dress. The spaghetti straps holding the dress up on my shoulder as my long leg is showing from the long cut in the side of the dress. I let my hair fall down on my back, put enough makeup and just a golden bracelet are enough accessories. Looking over to the girls in my room, giggling in their floral modest dresses, I can clearly see the difference between me and them. None of the girls has trained to become the heir, none of the girls is hiding a gun under her dress, but I am.

A knock on the door brings me to reality, and there I see my cousin, Elio, snoop his head through the door, winking at the girls.

Elio is more like a brother to me.

Elio is a handsome man, hazel eyes and two sets of eye-lashes like mine. Muscular guys tend to draw girls in, but he isn’t a just a muscular guy with perfect jawline, no. Elio has a heart of gold, good manners and courage of a lion. His father, my uncle, has died a long time ago and we were raised together by my father so we lived most of our lives under the same roof. I can, without a doubt, give him my back and I know that his knife will only reach my enemies.

“Aren’t you pretty all dressed up like a girl?” He says, walking into the room, holding my hand and giving me a sweet kiss on the cheek. He is wearing a navy blue suit with no tie.

“I am a girl, El.” I protest, smiling at him.

“You’re the most beautiful girl, Y/N/N.” He smiles back. “Are you ready to get engaged?”

“No, I’m not, let’s kill them.”

“Nice idea, but let’s call it plan B.” He chuckles, putting my arm around his. “Let’s go?”

I nod and walk out the room with him by my side and the girls walking behind us. We take our steps slowly because the heels I have on can trip me in a blink of an eye. The walk down the stairs feels endless, maybe because I never intended to be the one getting engaged to a pair of green eyes. The mansion has been decorated gracefully, veins of flowers along the handle of the stairs, romantic light system and many figures of people that matter. An occasion like this doesn’t happen often, the heirs of two of the most power families getting engaged, that is unheard of. The smell of fine wine and champagne stuck up my nose, as well as the scents of the expensive fragrances our guests have dived in. I can see that the guests have made an effort to dress perfectly for the occasion, over-priced suits and designer dresses. None of them catches my eyes, not even the figures of my own family, I only feel Elio having me in his arm and my father who sits on one of the fancy armchairs. And the pair of the green eyes, the damned groom I’ll be married to for the rest of my life.

Harry is not bad looking, oh no, he is not. He has the eyes, the smile, the aura of an angel, but he is certainly not one. Those green eyes, to me, looked like grass after a rainy day, while his lips were pinker than a barbie dress; the features of a handsome man, that is all that can be said to describe his appearance. I like handsome men, but my only prospective of a handsome man is Elio, and Harry is for sure just as handsome as my dear Elio. I can say that Harry is attractive, but his attractiveness provokes me, not that I want my future husband to be unattractive, but I hate that guy so every little thing about him pushes my buttons. Harry stands by the end of the stairs in a fancy black suit with no tie, he has a taste. I never liked ties.

The classical music. I love classical music when it’s not played in my engagement. As Elio and I take our last step on the stairs, he gives Harry a small smile and hands him my hand after shaking hands with him. Harry takes my hand and walks me to where the stage where we should sit. There are beautiful golden-colored chairs and floral backdrop right behind them. The girls really made an effort in the decorations, I can see a welcome stand by the front door in the mansion, decorated with golden leaves and white flowers. The welcome stand says ‘Welcome to our beginning, Y/N, Harry.’

“Beginning my ass.” I comment, rolling my eyes.

“I hope you trip in this beautiful dress you’re wearing, y/n.” Harry comments back, not changing his smiley expression and not even looking at me.

My smile widens as we both sit on the chairs, “Bite me, Harry.”

Harry unbuttons his suit jacket before he sits down, both of us giving the best smiles we have, looking to the guests that are clapping and smiling at us.

The atmosphere is filled with fake happiness and guns hidden under fancy clothes. Various families have come to bless the engagement of two people they’ll be afraid of one day. My two conditions are plain and simple, one is that I get to keep my surname and become Mrs. Cappitani-Styles – I wish this day never comes -, two is that I’ll be guaranteed that I’ll be the one to rule my family.

The smell of toxic cigars between men’s lips, mixes with the pretty faces of girls and women. Trays of champagne and wine are going back and forth only for the hands of the guests to snatch a glass or place an empty one. Air is filled with signs of luxury and bleak dark souls dressed in mafia silhouettes.

People come and go, congratulating us and our fathers on the wonderful engagement party, wishing us the happily ever after I’m not planning to have.

“Your fiancée is beautiful, Harry.” A woman I don’t recognize compliments me, giving me a tight hug. The woman is beautiful and she sounds sincere.

“Right, isn’t she, mom?” Harry says to the woman who goes to give him a kiss on the cheek. Without even giving it second thoughts, I know he’s being sarcastic, but to hell with him, I am beautiful whether he denies it or not.

“I’m Anne, sweetie, Harry’s mother.” She smiles at me and I politely smile back.

“Nice meeting you, Mrs. Styles.”

“Soon you’re going to be Mrs. Styles just like me.”

“Mrs. Cappitani-Styles.” I correct her and immediately regret my harsh tone. “You look beautiful in this dress.” I say, complimenting her attire to soothe her of the words that skipped my mouth.

“Thank you, sweetie. I’ll go check on your father, Harry.” She smiles at us one last time and goes to Edward.

“Aren’t you lovely?” Harry rolls his eyes.

“What a coincidence! You’re just as lovely.” I scoff back.

“My gorgeous fiancée.”

“My fiancé, the apple of my eye.”

I can suffocate right now from just having him sit next to me. I can��t quite get why I hate him, but I don’t want a marriage so that’s enough reason to despise his guts. On the other hand, he shares the same feeling about me.

After a short time, he takes a velvet box from his jacket, looking at me with the most sarcastic look I ever saw. He opens the box that contained a diamond ring with a fat rock. I hate diamond. Every set of eyes are on us, so I shouldn’t snatch his head off just yet. He takes my right hand in his as he slips the ring around my finger as the applause starts.

I feel Elio whisper in my ear, “Please, smile.”

“What smile? I’m trying not to shoot him.” I whisper back.

“God, you have a gun on you?” Elio sounds surprised, of course, no bride-to-be has a gun under her engagement dress.

“Don’t sound so surprised or I’ll shoot you too.”

“Just smile for fucks sake.” He whispers one last time and goes off.

Harry has his friend whisper in his ear, “You look like you’re in the funeral of your enemy, stop with the act.”

“I’m barely holding myself from stabbing her arrogant ego.” Harry whispers back.

“You’re going to hold yourself for the rest of your life, mate.” With that, his friend goes to congratulate me.

“I must say, you look beautiful, y/n. Congratulations on the engagement.” The man doesn’t look so much like Harry, and doesn’t have green eyes. He has dirty blond hair and blue eyes, he can’t be a Styles.

I shake his hand that he spreads for me, “Thank you, you are?”

“I’m Tyler, Harry’s friend.” He answers and pulls away his hand.

“Well, well, well, two families against one, not nice.” An annoying voice interrupts the conversations, breaking the rhythm of fake happiness with his pure evil voice.

A figure of a man comes into sight, wearing an expensive suit that matches the guests except the daisy he has in his suit jacket. A clown to say the least. The grey hairs give him the benefit of the doubt as if he’s a middle-aged man, but he is not, he is my age. The grey hair is only a gene he got from his mother just like his perfect teeth that are shown between his lips that are turned up into a smirk, make him look like a decent gentleman. But that person with black eyes is not a decent gentleman, he is the definition of a devil with angel wings.

A man escorts the women and girls all inside a room while the other men stand tall pulling out their guns and pointing them at the man and his entourage. The guns pulled out are all of different types and sizes, machine guns, typical guns and so much more. Perks of being born in a mafia family. Harry’s hand finds its way to the gun hidden under his jacket, but not pulling it out.

“Woah, why all aggressive? I’m here to congratulate the beautiful bride.” The grey-haired man, also known as Alessandro Scavo, raises his hands as a symbol of peace and surrender. None of his men has pulled out their guns, so he must be here just to cause chaos.

I stand up, raising my chin up as my father taught me. The clicks of my high heels can be heard clearly from the silence that suddenly hit the party. Harry looks at me with furrowed eyebrows as he also follows me into standing up. I stop right in front of the face of Alessandro, his features disgust me.

“Party crasher, why are you here?” I ask with no expression, maintaining my calm. His eyes look me from head to toe, admiring me in his mind. His eyes sparkle every time.

“You’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, y/n.” He whispers and I know I’m the only one that can hear those words. “I just answered, I’m here to congratulate you on the engagement.” His voice becomes loud as the words skip his mouth, putting on a fake show of crazy happiness.

“You’re not invited.” I simply say, not falling for his shows. I can’t see, but I feel someone’s body behind me, but actually there are two, Elio and Harry.

“Do I need an invitation? I thought we were practically family. And look who it is! Harry freaking Styles, man of the hour, whom gets to have Y/N Cappitani on a silver platter.” His voice is so loud, I want to smack him. Alessandro’s eyes are insane, wide and black. Harry’s gritted his teeth, glaring at the pair of black eyes. “Eh, Paolo, don’t you think it’s unfair to connect both heirs in one marriage? I don’t stand a chance.” Alessandro’s words are directed to my father who is drinking his glass of wine in silence, not even looking at the situation.

I bite my bottom lip before speaking loud and clear. “Speak to me, Alessandro. You want to congratulate the bride, here I am! But if you want to start war right now, I can take you down in one move as I always have.”

“No, baby, I can never lay a finger on you.” His eyes are soft but quickly change as they turn to look at Harry, pulling out his gun in Harry’s face over my shoulder. “But him, I can.”

I can feel three guns over my shoulders as Harry pulls out his own gun to Alessandro’s face while Elio’s gun is over my other shoulder. And just like that, Alessandro’s men all pull out their guns in everyone’s faces.

Maintaining calm. Lesson number one.

“Let’s all calm down, tell your men to put down their guns, Alessandro.” I calmly ask, his eyes look into mine and draft to Harry again then back into mine. “Alessandro, tell them to put their guns down.” I repeat.

He bites his bottom lip and puts down his gun and motions to his men to follow. I follow him, motioning to the men to put down their guns, everyone obliges but Harry. His gun still pointing at Alessandro over my shoulder. I raise my hand to softly take the gun from Harry, to my surprise, he lets me have it.

“Now, I’ll appreciate it if you leave, Alessandro.” I say sternly.

His face looks hurt, but quickly puts on a smiley face. “Anything for you, baby.”

Alessandro’s face comes closer to mine, but his face actually is getting closer to Harry’s over my shoulder.

“You’ll have her over my dead body.” Alessandro glares into Harry’s face before turning around to leave.

Harry is clueless of what is happening or why Alessandro has this grudge that can’t be explained, but he feels possessive of me for the first time. He thinks that I am his fiancée, so no one can have me even he wishes to cancel my existence.

“Let’s continue with our celebration as if nothing happened.” I clap my hands before nodding to my cousins that stand by the door of the room which contains countless women and girls. My cousins nod and open the door for the girls as I make my way back to my chair.

Edward, who’s sitting on an armchair next to my father’s, is definitely impressed by the situation. He thinks this is exactly what Harry needs, a woman that can contain the situation and maintain the stability.

“Not many girls can be that brave and calm with a hundred guns around them.” Edward comments, smoking his cigar.

Paolo smiles, he appreciates the compliments he gets when it comes to his beloved daughter. Every time he watches how I handle situations, he grows prouder of his way of raising me. “She is raised to rule, what do you expect?”

“That’s what Harry is missing, to handle tough situations.”

“She has her bad moments, too.”

“They may not see it, but they’re perfect for each other.” Edward smiles to himself.

Edward cannot leave his son without being sure that he has backup. His little Harry grew to become this handsome man, ready to be the ruler, but with the rebels in their own family, that cannot happen without war starting. Edward cares about his family, that’s certain, but he cares about his son more. And war means that his son can get hurt one way or another, and he cannot let that happen to his own flesh and blood. And since the day Edward has known that Paolo Cappitani is raising his own flesh and blood to rule, adding that it’s a girl, Edward made up his mind to make her a part of his family.

Since the engagement, Harry and I never spoke. We’ll be married in three months because Edward only has a few months left to live and he wants Harry to be prepared before he takes his role. Harry is caught up in work, making deals, having fights with his family, the normal days. Though, he isn’t so fond of me, he is interested in knowing me even more. He hates to admit that he finds me attractive, but that is the truth even if he denies it. My beautiful face and body attract him, that’s for sure, but my attitude is another thing that makes him wanting to get to know me. The life of his was not a desert before our engagement, he has had his fair share of women to fool around with. Short girls, tall, thin, thick, flat, busty, and all types of girls. But not ever has he ever crossed ways with a girl like me.

I am raised to be a champion, to speak up and make everyone listen. Bravery is the root Paolo has planted in me and Elio. Elio and I can fight an army alone and not even blink in fear, it’s either we win or die in dignity. Paolo used to wake us up in the middle of the night to practice shooting, practice knifing, boxing. Sometimes, the training was hard, but I never hated my father because of that, I love him more every time I see myself equal to all men.

The same way, harry is raised. Fear is not in his dictionary. If the whole world was against him, he’d pull out his gun and shoot to his victory. Everywhere, anywhere, he can manage to be the alpha.

Only a month till our wedding, the girls are taking care of everything I should take care of. They are designing my wedding dress while I’m going to the gym with Elio. I have a sports bra on, gym shorts and a pair of sneakers, my hair is in a messy bun. Elio’s muscular upper body is hidden under his white t-shirt, he’s having a nap on the passenger seat though the distance to the gym is not that long. I pull over at the gym parking roughly only to freak out Elio. He snaps his eyes open in surprise, only to find me laughing.

“I hate you.” He glares at me as I get out of the car.

I open the backseat door to get my gym bag and let it hang on my shoulder, Elio does the same and we head together to the gym.

“I’ll kick your ass today.” He smirks at me, opening the door of the gym for me.

“Huh, you wish!” I roll my eyes, getting in.

The gym we’re used to go to is the one we were trained at, we can do boxing and kick the hell out of each other. Our trainer, Simon, is an old man that has always kicked both our asses to teach us how to knock out people in one move. We make our way to the lockers and when we make our way to the machines we start with some warm-ups.

“Children, long time no see!” The voice of Simon interrupts our warm-ups. I look up at him and give him a warm hug, he pats on my back before he lets go of me to hug Elio who now is shirtless.

“We were here two days ago, Simon.” I laugh, doing my warm-ups.

“That’s too long.” He smiles, letting go of Elio.

Simon is an old man, bald, white beard and has the body of an old champion. He is the one that taught us everything we know about boxing.

“When you finish with the gym, hit the door. We have some people to send to the hospital.” He says, going through the door that leads to where our boxing sessions take place.

After a while and as we’re finished with the gym, we refill our water bottles and hit the door, just like Simon said. Huge, is the perfect word for the boxing stadium -as we like to call it-. There are many punching-bags hung from the walls, speed-balls and all you can imagine and last but not least the square where the magic happens. I still remember the first time I was knocked out with a bloody nose on that damn square.

Some of our boxing friends high-five us, say their hellos as Elio and I enter.

“Holy shit!” I gasp, looking at the man boxing on the boxing square.

“What?” Elio asks looking at me and I nod towards the arena. Elio looks where I am looking.

The green-eyed jerk is boxing with some other guy. He has the boxing gloves on just like his gym shorts, he is shirtless. Looks like he has many tattoos, but I just roll my eyes and look away before I can mesmerize his image.

“Oh, Harry, Hi!” Elio yells to get Harry’s attention through the guys surrounding the arena.

I kick Elio who laughs as I walk to get my pair of boxing gloves. I wear the gloves and make my way towards one of the punching bags and start hitting the bag.

“How many times have I told you to protect your face?” Simon’s voice sounds annoyed at me before I even start, walking towards me with a face of annoyance.

“I barely started, Simon!” I roll my eyes as he leans his arm on my punching bag.

“I don’t care if you’re good at this, protecting your face is the most important thing. Now, stand in position!” He yells the last part and backs off from the bag as I take my position, raising my hands to my face in protection, steading my legs on the ground and start punching the bag.

“Now that’s a good girl!” Simon, loudly, encourages, clapping his hands. I keep on punching the bag, giving side punches from time to time.

“You punch like a girl.” That smirky voice I know very well by now.

I stop what I’m doing, panting, and look at the pair of green eyes that are standing near me.

“I’m a girl, want a taste?” I pant, chest and chin up. Harry’s arms are crossed on his chest, taking in how good I look in gym clothes.

“I don’t hit girls.” He smirks.

“Unfortunately, I hit boys.” I reply, giving him a punch in the face. He takes two steps backwards, holding his jaw that’s just received a punch, but his smirk fades for a second before it appears once again. Not that I punched him with my full power, I just wanted to prove a point.

“Woah, y/n, let’s slow down.” Simon says as I lock eyes with the smirky face.

“I’m gonna look for Elio.” I say, walking away to Elio who’s the one fighting now.

I can feel the pair of green eyes watching my every move as I walk towards the arena where Elio is having a boxing fight with one of the guys. Elio’s punches are good and precise, hitting the right spots and protecting his face all of the time, unlike me. An attacker is me, defender isn’t. Waiting for an attack so you can pull up your defense sounds so cowardly to me, attacking always sounds better.

Elio always gives his best during boxing and that’s what I see as I stand by the arena, watching him through the ropes that surround the square arena. The other guy has given Elio a punch that is totally a boxing foul, hitting him below the belt. Elio, as any boxer, falls down to his knees as he was totally caught off guard with such behavior during a match. I can feel the blood rushing into my head through my veins. No one is to hurt Elio as long as I’m alive, his dignity is mine. I skip through the arena ropes, making my way to Elio while the douchebag is laughing with his friends at the rule he has just broken.

“You did that on purpose!” I yell, helping Elio back on his feet.

“You need a crazy bitch defending you, now?” The guy laughs and I can only feel myself getting angrier. I let go of Elio and walk towards the guy. I will erase that smirk off of his face.

Throwing a powerful punch to his face, that I do, and right before he adjusts to this punch, I throw another punch under his belt, making sure I hurt him badly. Grabbing him by the neck with my forearm and tightening my arm around his neck, I let him fall with me on the arena, still strangling him, but as I feel myself slipping, I hold him closer by laying my legs on his body to keep my control. All he can do is try to hit my arm to force me to let him go, but that won’t happen.

“Do you know now that I’m a crazy bitch?” I whisper in his ear, tightening my grip around his neck. I feel Simon and Elio trying to save him from me.

“Let him go, Y/N!” Elio yells, grabbing me by the waist, but he only drags me and the guy back a little on the arena.

“Get off, Y/N, at once!” Simon yells at me, trying to grab the arm I have around the guy’s neck.

“Not before he apologizes!” I yell back, forcing the guy down.

The guy coughs with an open mouth due to the strangulation. “I-I’m s-sorry.” He manages.

With that, I let him go and immediately he runs away, tripping on his feet. I stand up, panting.

“Y/N, that’s not how we do things!” Simon sternly tells me, I only roll my eyes at his words.

My eyes drift to the guy who’s panting, holding his neck among his friends. I take off my glove and throw it at him, it lands on his head directly. Grunting, I get off of the arena, walking away and leaving Simon and Elio standing.

I take my things from the locker and storm away to the parking, not even bothering to take a shower. As I approach my car, the man I’m supposed to marry is leaning on it, arms crossed.

“Have anything to say, smirky?” I scoff, opening my backseat to throw the gym bag and slam the door close.

“You need to work on your anger issues.” He smirks as I stand in front of him.

This guy has a face created perfectly by God. His features could make hearts stop just so his features can be the last thing seen by the eyes of the beholder. Love is blind, but his handsomeness can be seen by the blind. And even though I hate him, I am incapable of not seeing his sweet face and admire every gene that made his face.

“Two things I can’t stand, smirky. One, being disrespected or underestimated. Two, someone harming Elio.” I say, holding up my fingers to count.

There is something about me that he can’t comprehend, though he is trying to. It must be the way I handle things in different situations, I can be all angry and violent, but still can maintain my temper and handle unbearable situations. Or it can be how tough I am, standing up to whoever. Certainly, these qualities make him, by all odds, curious.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” His question, or rather, statement startle me a little. Indeed, I am beautiful, but I am told that I’m beautiful by an unexpected person. A person whom I just punched in the face for disrespecting me.

“I don’t have time for this.” I roll my eyes, but his face’s still keeping the same expression.

“I don’t care, I’m just spelling facts.” He says before patting on my shoulder and leaving with no other words.

Irritated, I am. But I can describe myself to be more startled than irritated. And as I stand there, only the voice of Elio brings me back to reality. On our drive back home, I repeat his words in my head just to understand what kind of situation was it. Getting a grip, I let my encounter with Harry slip off of my mind.

My mother is far

Far, far away

They tell him to find another

But he stays

They say, ‘You brought a daughter’

But he lies

They tell him, ‘That can’t be’

But he flies

Fly away

Far, far away

My mother is away

The ‘Away’ is dead

This is not the end

They say, ‘You brought a daughter’

The song Paolo used to sing me and Elio when we were young, keeps playing in my head as I stand in my kitchen after returning from a business trip. All is dead once the mother is dead. Losing a mother is the only thing that hurts you and leaves an open wound till the day you die. You can never be healed of losing the one person whom never felt love towards anyone like they felt towards you. A mother faces thousand hells to bring to the world one tiny person. All my mother did was give me the gift of life before leaving me, vulnerable, tiny, weak and in need of a mother. No blame is on Alessandra for leaving before I could pronounce ‘Mama’, but deep down I blame her for not giving me the gift of knowing who she was. There is, in my mind, the need to argue with her, fight with her, hug her and listen to her tell me that she loved me. I didn’t get the opportunity to know Alessandra, and though it may feel that people like me don’t get hurt as much of losing a mother, it still hurts. All the time, I feel like a prisoner to the grief of losing a mother I never had. Why did you leave me, mama?

My father once told me that losing a child is worse than losing a mother. He told me that losing a child is similar to having your heart snatched off of your chest. No one could imagine the pain, no other deaths could come closer to losing a child of your own and no matter what happened in life, you’d still feel the pain. You could no longer dream of them getting older before your eyes. The blame is the only thing you could do, blame your own child for dying and leaving your arms, blame God for taking them from you, blame the wings that flew them away from life. They take everything with them, your life, your age, and your happiness and they only leave you grief and bleak years.

That is why my father raised me to become the heir. Paolo wants me to fight and never risk me to life.

Paolo lost the love of his life, he cannot afford losing the love he can never replace. The love which was born by the love of his life. Me.

Bianca snaps me out of my thoughts, slamming a huge file on the kitchen counter in front of me. My eyes look at her floral, angelic aura and I see the big smile on her face as she opens the file to show me wedding dresses.

“You’re too busy to go find yourself a dress so I had the designer give me all the dresses he has in this file.” She smiles, going through the pictures of white wedding dresses.

“Do I look like I care, Bianca?” I arch an eyebrow at her, but she just shrugs at me.

“You need to choose one and come with me to the damned designer, or else I’ll make Elio force you.” She never curses, so she must be so irritated by me.

“You know I can take him.” I smirk and she rolls her eyes, playing with the strap of her floral dress.

“Y/n, I’m not kidding, the wedding is in two weeks! We already took care of everything else on your behalf, but the wedding dress can’t be chosen by anyone but you. Look! This one is so pretty.” She points at one white dress that I don’t like.

I huff. Bianca is right, they did take care of everything. I don’t even know where the reception or the actual wedding is going to be. “Fine.”

My fingers turn the pictures as Bianca squeals, clapping her hands, “Yay!”

As I look at a dress after another, I huff even more. This is not something I want to do. There is a dress catches my eyes, it’s not like me but I think it’s good.

The dress is silver-colored and can blind a blind with the sparkles, it’s off-shoulder and shows much cleavage just like I love dresses to show. The dress is huge, tight in the upper-half while the lower-half is huge. You can call it a ball gown wedding dress.

“I like this one.” I point at the picture and she turns her head to see the dress clearly.

“Oh, never thought you’d like a dress like that. It’s so pretty and sparkly!” She squeals at the end, closing the file. “I’ll make an appointment for today. Don’t even think you can get out of this, understand?”

I smirk as she walks away just to be replaced with the ringing of my phone. This number I know very well, it has been calling me for the past two months. I think, it’s time I answer.

Harry has been drowning in work. The Styles have been a thorn in his side, his uncles are turning against him, claiming that he’s no fit for the role. Trying his best to redeem his family members from betraying the family, but all efforts seem to vanish into thin air. While he is sitting in his office at the headquarters of the Styles Co., he hears the voice of his secretary through the phone speaker, “Mr. Styles, there’s a girl claiming that she’s your fianc- Ma’am, you can’t just ent-“

The door of his office suddenly slams open only for him to see my face. I stand there in my black bodysuit and black jeans, my hair falling down my shoulder freely. His eyes look me from head to toe, taking in how I am his fiancée. I can see why girls drool for guys like him, as he’s just as a delicious meal for a starving man. His attire matches mine, black shirt unbuttoned halfway and black dress pants.

His eyes look to the secretary who has followed me and he just nods at her. My eyes turn to look at her, as well. She gets out and closes door on her way. I turn my attention to him, crossing my arms.

“We need to go. Now.” I pull my chin up, ordering him.

His eyes speculate my appearance as they speculate my attitude. He gives me no expression, but inside he is trying to calm his curiosity. He sees a strong woman that stops at nothing, wants what she wants and gets what she wants. A woman that he barely knows, but still is pushing his buttons and talking like she has known him for years.

“Is that an order?” He smirks, crossing his arms, imitating my position. He gets more comfortable in his leather chair behind the modern desk.

“It can be if you don’t get your ass up. Alessandro has been calling me, he wants to see me alone. I can’t go alone, I have to have my gorgeous fiancé next to me. Just to prove a point.” I say, not giving him the expression which he’s craving so he can read me.

“Go on your own.” He says, briefly, before he gets back to typing on his laptop.

I free my arms, walking towards his desk and slam his laptop shut on his fingers, leaning in to be at the same level as his face, “Listen, smirky, Alessandro is not to be underestimated. If he threatens, then it has to be taken into consideration. If I go alone, then this messes up the whole point of the marriage.”

He frees his fingers and just admire the color of my hazel eyes while his damned smirk is not backing off of his face.

“I’ll go under two conditions.” He says as I straighten up my posture. I give no answer so he continues, “First, we will have a cup of coffee. Second, while we have our cup of coffee, you’ll tell me what is the history between you and that fucker.”

“Agreed. I’m waiting in my car.” I say, storming out of his office.

As he stays there, on his chair, in his office, he wonders. He wonders why I accepted his conditions without arguing my way out, he wonders if he’s going to like the story of me and Alessandro. He sighs, feeling the gun wrapped around his chest before he stands up to wear his suit jacket. He is the man, and I am the woman. We are not like Adam and Eve, we are the complete opposite, or so we think.

Harry and I can’t see what our parents see of us. We can’t see how we fit. We can’t see.

As I am scrolling on my phone, waiting for him in my car right in front of his company’s gate, the passenger door opens and he takes a seat next to me. I don’t even look at him, just as he closes the passenger door, I put my phone down and drive.

Harry notices that I’m a confident driver, driving with one arm just like him. Just like my driving, he notices how beautiful I am. The little makeup I have on doesn’t interrupt my beauty or put too much effort into making me more beautiful. To him, my hazel eyes that shine every time the rays of sun touch my eyes look like the sun after it rains. He doesn’t know that I see his eyes as the grass after a rainy day. We can’t see our similarities.

“Are you going to stare at me the whole day?” I ask, not taking my eyes off of the road.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to meet him all by ourselves without backup?” He changes the topic.

“Alessandro won’t come with any guards, he thinks he’s going to meet me alone.”

“Are you used to meeting him alone?” He asks, trying to hide that the answer can annoy him.

“I’ll tell you all about it after we’re finished with meeting him.” I answer, trying to calm the urge to kill Alessandro once I see him.

Harry nods and focuses on anything but me. After a while of silence, I pull over by a bar. I grab my purse and open it to make sure I have my gun, then I reach down to feel the knife I’m hiding under my bodysuit. Harry watches me as I make sure I’m prepared and as I put on a leather black jacket on.

“Let’s go.” I say before we both get out of the car.

We walk, side by side, inside the bar. The smell of alcohol suffocates me as I enter. Desperate, lost souls wandering the place, looking for another drink to soothe their wounds of agony. This bar is built over the lost souls, not the ones looking for fun.

Harry’s eyes scan the place to make sure there are no signs of threats. I walk to Alessandro just when I notice his silver hair, he is sitting on a barstool, having a glass of whiskey on the rocks. I take my seat next to him and I feel Harry taking the seat next to me.

Alessandro’s face lightens up as he sees me, just to darkens when he sees the face next to me.

“Hey, Alessandro.” I say as I motion to the bartender. “Martini, please.”

“Whiskey. Neat.” Harry says to the bartender. As if having neat whiskey can make him have the upper hand in this situation.

“I didn’t know we were going to have a third-wheel.” Alessandro scoffs, turning his body to face me.

“You asked to see me, here I am.” I say, not changing my poker-face.

“She’s my fiancée, if you don’t know.” Harry smirks and Alessandro bites his bottom lip in ire.

“I am worthy of you, y/n.” Alessandro states, looking into my eyes.

“No, you’re not. I rather be with a devil than be with you, Alessandro. You know that by now.”

“Two years and you can’t just forget about it.” Alessandro’s voice is hurt.

I grab my glass and take a sip. “I don’t forget, as if what you do is forgettable.”

“I can’t see you marry this bastard, I am the one you’re meant to be with.” Before Harry does something, I reply.

“This bastard is my fiancé, Alessandro. Disrespect him and you disrespect me. You are an evil person, whether you admit it or not. All we had is gone, none of it matters anymore. You’re stealing members of the Styles and you’re causing chaos between us and the government. As a matter of fact, all you care about is to bring us all down just to prove a point.”

“It’s my right, y/n! Your families took everything from us and we were left with nothing. And I’m not here to talk about whatever the fuck is going on in business. I’m here because you can’t marry another guy you only met once.”

“Oh? Watch me. By the way, business is a part of why I don’t ever wanna see your face again.”

“You’re the reason I’m doing all of this!”

“Spare me the ‘You’re the reason I’m fucking people up’! You do all of this shit just for yourself. Do you think you’re gonna stop whatever you’re doing if I just ask?”

“Of course!”

“Your audacity, man!” I shake my head, sipping my drink. “You’re going to continue at all costs. And I am telling you, Alessandro, if you think I’ll let you fuck up the Styles and us, you’re damn wrong. We built the empire; Harry and I are going to keep building it. We’re going to become your worst nightmare, Alessandro. Just as much as I respect your threats, you must respect ours. You love me? Let’s see if you’ll love me when I suck your soul out. Your whole family won’t be enough for us, if you come near us again. I’ll make you regret the day you met me, you’ll wish you can rip your heart off. We’ll be the nightmare that visits you every day. “

His face is stunned, not believing that this is the girl he’s fallen in love with. The girl he’s loved his entire life is swearing to take him down. Enjoying her visits in his dreams will turn into fear. Alessandro can act tough as he wants, but we will turn him into a panicked chicken. He can stand tall, but we will make him fall. He can build walls, but we will crack them. Harry and I, all we have is our families, we won’t let Alessandro demolish it just to prove that he has the upper hand. Although Harry isn’t enjoying not being a part of the conversation, he’s enjoying listening to me involving him in my words. Alessandro’s heart aches as he watches the look of evil I own in my eyes towards him. Those same eyes that he has fallen in love with, contain the purest aversion. He wants to threat back, but he can’t do so to the love of his life.

“You want to marry him?” Alessandro asks with hurt eyes that’re trying to keep cool, nodding his head at Harry. As if Alessandro hasn’t been listening to my threats, he is only concerned with me.

“Yes, I want to and I will. Get out of the picture. I don’t ever wanna see you again.” Alessandro nods at my words before he looks at Harry.

“I’m not gonna let you have her.” Alessandro says to Harry.

Harry arches a brow and smirks, he holds my right hand up, “You see this? This is my ring wrapped around her finger. In two weeks, she’ll be my wife. I already have her, Alessandro.”

Throwing some dollar bills on the counter, Alessandro stands up. “I can never hurt you, y/n, even if I want to. You, Harry, on the other hand, it’ll be my pleasure to watch you suffer.”

With that he leaves me and Harry alone.

I WANT COMMENTS

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drifting-pieces-blog-blog · 4 months

Text

Breaking down the comics: BENDIS. PART 2.

READING THINGS SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO!

See Part 1 HERE.

And we’re back! Weeeee!

Here’s some more brief Comic book history!

Alright, so it's always been brought up that ALL the heroes live in New York and no where else.

So back in 1985, they came up with "The West Coast Avengers". They operated out of Palos Verdes, California.

A lot of readers considered them to be the B team of heroes even though it had bigger names.

It had Hawkeye, Mockingbird, Wonder Man, Tigra, and Iron Man.

It ran until about 1994 then petered out.

It was revived in 2018 with Hawkeye, Kate Bishop, Gwenpool, America Chavez, Quintin Quire, and Johnny Watts.

I know who, like... half those people are.

It got canceled again in 2019.

So... There is a chance that Moon Knight and Echo was Marvel testing out the waters for another California based set of heroes.

Considering how this run ends… I’m going to say they kinda sabotaged themselves?

Issue #6!

Not a fan of this cover either. Is his art going down hill? Was he getting rushed? If this was the case, why did he keep doing his own covers? Why are his hands so big and weird there? Why is everyone staring at the reader so disapprovingly?

TRIGGER WARNINGS: It’s occurred to me that I need to figure out trigger warnings for this run, because they are there. They aren’t as straightforward as Bemis’ run was. Or even as blatantly obvious as Aaron’s. But I know they are there. How? Because I inadvertently triggered myself pretty hard with this issue so if I got triggered, I know there needs to be a warning.

These are going to be a bit more specific and a bit more vague. And I know this because I have some VERY specific triggers that aren’t exactly commonplace.

**Dissociation, possible derealization, possible depersonalization, mentally struggling, cry for help unheard…. Something in that general thought house without being overly obvious. Does that make sense? These next issues are going to get very difficult when it comes to how he starts to depict Marc’s mental illness and how much he starts to drown without anyone helping him. As well as wrongly depicting WHAT mental illness he has and overall generalizing mental illness as a whole into one big problem**

This is going to be your only warning. Please treat yourself with kindness.

SO!

Opening up, we find ourselves back with Buck, who is examining the Ultron head while he has the news on in the background.

On the news: "Has the mysterious Moon Knight made Los Angeles his new home?"

I love how Moon Knight is still always 'mysterious'.

"Residents of West Hollywood were treated to a very rare super hero appearance as Moon Knight had a run-in with local law enforcement."

Then we see amature footage of Moon Knight zooming by on the back of a car.

....This is not the first or last time we have ever seen him just standing on the top of a vehicle that's driving away. He has a ....HISTORY...with vehicles.

"Has Moon Knight made Los Angeles his quote unquote Territory? And is this the beginning of a New West Coast Avengers?"

Buck pauses and calls up a secret number then gives them a code.

The person on the phone tells them that they "No longer have that item in stock".

He declares a "Code White" and asks to speak to agent 13.

They tell him that they'll see what they can do then hang up.

Hmmmm...

Back at Marc's place, we see him taking a shower. Lots of blood to wash off. Not to mention the punched up face.

Captain America tells him to get sleep.

This is why Captain America needed to be Steven Grant. He’s trying to take care of them. To take care of the body. To come up with strategy and plans. Also trying to take care of Marc, who is spiraling a bit. Alright, and we're back with Night Shift.

They're about to explain to the boss lady Snapdragon why they failed and had to be bailed out of jail.

"I'm looking for one stripper and one C-List crazy Super Hero and I sent the, let's see, 1-2-3-4-5-6 of you. I sent SIX against TWO."

(Everyone always makes this mistake against Moon Knight. He fights best against groups. One big guy? He's gonna get his ass handed to him a bit. But a group? Half the time his fighting style ends up using the group against themselves! He is trained in the art of fighting when the odds are not in his favor! HE WAS A SPECIALIST FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.)

The leader, Tik Tok? Asks to make it up and face Moon Knight again at no additional charge.

The BIG boss isn't interested. In fact, he's there himself.

He shows up and the team is pretty scared.

We've seen this guy's silhouette a couple times and I gotta say.... I have not yet figured out who he is. If he's supposed to be some major player, I'm missing it. Supposedly he says he's faced Moon Knight before. We'll see if I'm impressed by the big reveal when we finally get it.

Here’s a picture. Let’s see if you figure it out before me.

Mystery Boss calls them all idiots when they have no idea what he wants from Moon Knight.

One of the Night Shift members gets upset and mouths off a bit.

Mystery Boss basically sets them all on fire and does to them what he did to the guy on the boat in the first issue. Turns them into a large pile of ash.

He tells Snapdragon to hire better people so he doesn't have to keep getting his hands dirty then disappears.

Back with Marc, we see him sleeping fitfully and having nightmares.

He wakes with a start and finds Echo in his room.

"I didn't want to wake you."

He stares at her, REALLY stares at her for a moment.

"I just came here to say...Are you okay?"

"Are...Are you real?"

"What? What are you--Don't!" Marc touches her to see if she's real and she recoils.

"What is WRONG with you? What do you mean: Am I real?"

"'Msorry, Echo."

"What is wrong with you?"

"I was having very...Vivid dreams."

PAUSE: So... This part breaks my heart a little. Because we VERY seldom see Marc suffering the side effects of his PTSD. We don't get to see him break down, have flashbacks, have nightmares, or question what he's seeing. We don't see his dissociative episodes, his derealization moments. We only ever see him angry. We don't get to see him STRUGGLE.

And in this moment, you feel the hope for a good comic. You feel the "This could be something" and it is so disappointing that it isn't. And maybe that's part of why this run is, to me anyways, listed as a HORRID run and not just a mediocre run. The 'what if' of seeing...REALLY seeing Marc Spector is just sitting right out of reach and it makes me want to cry.

UNPAUSE.

Marc turns away from Echo.

She tells him to look at her so she can read his lips.

"Did you come here to apologize for punching me in the face?"

"Yes."

"Repeatedly."

"Yes."

"I'm sorry I kissed you without permission. I was--I was caught up in the moment. I clearly misread the signs."

She tells him that he didn't entirely misread the moment.

But the moment has passed.

She notes that the lifestyle is getting to her and she isn't acting in ways that exactly 'resemble what I think of myself.'

Marc assures her that this is common for people in their line of work. Especially since she was undercover and having trouble getting out of that role and back into who she really is.

I'd also like to point out that Marc has REPEATEDLY been asked what his problem is and he has avoided the question every single time. It's to the point where perhaps that so many people ask him that as a means to discriminate against him or as a way to just call him crazy without actually wanting to help or understand, that maybe he's given up trying to explain himself.

She apologizes and asks if she can stay with him since she has no where safe to go.

"Why DO you have a giant empty house?"

"Probably for the exact same reason you have NO house."

"What does that mean?"

"Because I--I don't know how to act normal and I'm doing the best I can to keep up appearances."

(Fuuuuck. When it's good, it's very very good and it's why when it goes bad it's SO BAD. He could have done so much better! I think anyone with mental health issues can relate to this. Doing the best they can to appear to be doing fine, but not sure what that looks like so they just make themselves empty.)

Another issue is that while this is such a very good scene.... Bendis has done zero research onto D.I.D other than probably watching a few movies or a quick google. So his take on Marc's failing mental health at this point is VERY general...and currently bordering on a completely DIFFERENT psychosis all together. And this is going to start becoming a problem as the comic goes on.

I'd very much like to remind everyone of Moon Knight issue # 9-10 by Moench (Reviewed HERE). When Khonshu's statue was destroyed and Marc had a total meltdown.

THAT was far more accurate and done so wonderfully.

ANYWAYS....

Echo goes to use his shower and Marc takes a moment then finds the Avengers in his room with the Helicarrier outside.

Captain America: "Moon Knight."

"Wh-What's...What's going on?"

"You don't answer your phone."

"My phone?"

"You're an Avenger. I need you to answer when I call."

Clearly Marc is distressed by this.

This time there are more than Captain America, Spider-man, and Wolverine. Captain Marvel, Black Widow, and Luke Cage are now there.

Is this real? Or is the problem expanding?

Captain America: "Are you okay?"

Spider-man: "Dude! You live here? Can I have a student loan?"

Marc: "It's real. It's... It's really you."

Captain America: "So, the BIG question is-What are you doing with this?"

Luke Cage holds up the Ultron head.

And Marc freezes up. In fact, one could argue that he suddenly VERY heavily dissociates. He still can’t tell if this is real or just the other people he’s been seeing that he knows aren’t real.

It's actually painful to read because you can tell he's NOT okay, and while they ask him repeatedly if he's okay, they do nothing about it and make no other acknowledgement that he isn't well.

The Avengers everyone!

At this point, Maya comes back from the shower.

"Oh. The Avengers. Captain America."

This snaps Marc out of it. He asks what they are doing here.

Turns out Buck called them to say "Moon Knight gave him this Head of Ultron for safekeeping."

"Buck called you."

"He was worried about you and thought this was too dangerous an item to be tucked away in the prop department of a TV show set."

"So did she. She called us."

Maya had called to ask who Moon Knight was earlier.

Marc tells them all to leave.

"You--You all have to leave here. You--You're blowing my cover. You have the whole damn Quinjet out there!"

"It's cloaked."

Captain America asks why they even have an Ultron head.

Marc explains that there is an LA Kingpin, whose identity he has yet to discover.

Captain America expresses concern that this is a big problem and that it should be an Avenger's problem.

Marc tells them that this is NOT an Avenger's problem. The new Kingpin is trying to stake a claim, not face the Avengers and if they start causing problems then the guy will just 'pull up stakes and get out of town'.

And now we have another panel that a lot of you have seen floating around! I love finding context for silly panels like this!

Captain America confirms with Maya that she is teaming up with Moon Knight as Echo.

He asks for the next step.

"I'm going to offer him the head of Ultron. And he's going to come get it himself. And then I'm going to bring him down. I promise I'll call the second I need you."

Cap points out that this is a VERY dangerous move because if he gets the Ultron up and running...An AI that wants to wipe out humanity....

Sure you do, Marc….Sure you do…

END ISSUE!

This one was rough. It’s hard to watch him very obviously start to be in distress to the point where people NOTICE and still no one is willing to talk about it because mental health is SO taboo to talk about in this group. Perhaps in this world.

Let’s see where the next issue takes us.

ISSUE # 7

This is an interesting cover. I think that’s supposed to be Snapdragon? She’s kinda hovering over the cape though, and not really standing on it. The perspective is a little off. I don’t know… I find the ones where they just stare ahead to be unnerving.

Looking at the intro on the title page we got more problems.

"After a brutal fight, Moon Knight and Echo are victorious and manage to evade the police. Regrouping at Marc's mansion, they receive an unexpected visit from the Avengers. Despite his televised getaway from the police, Marc assures them he has the situation with the Kingpin well in hand, along with all of his other personalities."

I'm frowning so hard right now.

We open on Buck again.

"You told on me, Buck?" Marc addresses him.

"They got ahold of you already?"

"Yeah. The Avengers came to see me."

Buck apologizes. He didn't know what else to do.

Marc is disappointed, saying he thought Buck knew how to keep a secret and could help him.

"I like you, I do. And I dig what you're about. In theory. But, and I'm gonna be honest with you..."

"Please."

"I think there's something really wrong with you, and normally I wouldn't judge, but you're playing a dangerous game."

Ouch. The repeated telling of 'there's something wrong with you' is just more salt in the wound.

Marc gives him the Ultron head, telling him to keep it then.

Buck is shocked that the Avengers let him keep it.

"Captain America trusts me. Which you'd think would be enough to get anyone to trust me. I wonder what I would have to do to get you to."

"It ain't that I don't trust YOU."

"Sure it is."

"It's that I don't think you're all right. Bipolar, aspergers...I don't know what..."

This...This is about to get VERY uncomfortable.

That’s right… “I hear voices.”

"What do the...Voices tell you to do?"

"In general...Make the world better."

"Maybe you should see someone, get that evened out."

"I don't WANT to."

"See, that's where you lose me..."

"I dress up like a little-known Moon God and strike fear in the hearts of men... Did you really think I was normal? Do you think that any of us...ANy of the costumes are normal? We're all crazy."

Uuuuggghhhhhh noooooooo

"But we're the exact kind of crazy that the world needs right now. The EXACT kind."

No. Bendis...No. Marc does not 'hear voices'. And the jab about 'what do the voices tell you to do?' is a CLASSIC discriminatory move when they find out someone IS hearing voices. As if the voices will suddenly control them and make them do violent or scary things.

Not everyone who hears voices is violent, scary, or unpredictable. Some people just shrug them off. Sometimes the voices just say stuff and don't tell them to DO things.

And DID is not 'hearing voices'. DID is about the 'voices' being other people in the head. And again, Marc is deflecting. He isn't telling the whole story. ANd part of the reason is I feel like if he did, these people would instantly think him not only INSANE but also treat him differently.

He's struggling and he's grasping at what he knows people can handle because he's had to handle it before! He's telling the story that he feels is understandable and acceptable and not the real story!

GAH.

So... Buck buys it. He apologizes for screwing him over.

"I won't lie to you... It bummed me out."

"I didn't like doing it."

"You want to make it up to me? Do it again."

Back at the strip club!

We find Dragonfly upset that she can't find any good for hire crews to bring her Moon Knight.

One of her girls interrupts her telling her that there's a guy bragging about having the head of Ultron and he wants to sell it.

Dragonfly goes to meet the guy.

Buck tells her that he works for Moon Knight and that he needs off the 'crazy train'. He wants out and he wants Dragonfly to pay him for the head so he can get out of dodge.

He gives her a piece of Ultron to show to her boss as proof that he's legit.

He tells her that he wants to go directly to the big boss with this and not hand it over to her.

He tells her that if she doesn't take the offer by midnight he's going to Hydra.

She tells him she wants Moon Knight.

"Hey, when he finds out I turned on him... I think you'll see as much of that Lunatic as you want."

So she goes to her boss to tell him the deal.

The boss sees through the plan, of course.

"Moon Knight is trying to draw me out into the open."

"Yes, should I just kill the guy? That would send a message back."

He tells her that he's annoyed. Annoyed that of all the superheros out there, MOON KNIGHT is the one giving him troubles.

After a debate, he tells her to ask the man to step out back so that he might have words with him.

"You're here?"

"I am."

"Here?"

"Moon Knight wants me to come out into the open because he thinks he can take me down. He thinks this is a street fight."

Yeah I...Have no idea who Count Nefaria is. I'm going to have to look this one up.

Alright... This one is a villain that dates back to Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, and Don Heck 1965. So he's not some new guy.

So either he's a big deal in other runs of other comics that I don't read (a common problem if you don't read every comic ever), or he was a big villain back in the day, got forgotten about, then they dug him back up in the desperate search for bigger badder villains to 'bring back'.

A quick Wikki read later. Okay. He pops up now and then. I guess he's been in a few random things I've read, but I had no idea who he was then and I still don't. So to me, he's just some guy. Maybe you've heard more of him.

For whatever reason, I've just never found Moon Knight to mix well with villains like this. Traditional ones that fight the big fights with Captain America or X-Men just never really clicked or had the same sway over Moon Knight.

He always just kinda shrugs and goes "You're supposed to be scary?" Like, the man has no reasonable fear? And when it comes to the big leagues, he just kinda goes “Ain’t my circus” and bows out.

To each his own I suppose. Bendis is used to writing the big leagues. Writing for the Avengers, he goes for the big guns. So I’m not surprised that he would pull out a heavy hitting power villain like this. Just… Not for Moon Knight. It’s kinda like throwing Magneto at Spider-man. Why would you?

Moon Knight was indeed watching and he recognizes who this villain is.

He gets into an argument with Not Spider-man/Captain America/Wolverine on if he should handle it himself or call in the Avengers like he agreed to do.

Hey look! Another well known panel! Now we have it in context!

(Why are all the good meme panels from this run?)

Snapdragon brings out Buck.

To his credit, Buck sticks to his guns.

Buck insists that he just wants out and to get paid.

The Count demands the Ultron head.

Buck demands the money.

The Count tells Buck to get him the head and MAYBE he'll be granted mercy.

See... A big hitter Villain like this with all this power? Why is he trying to get money and become a Kingpin in LA? I just don't buy it.

So Buck goes to his car and pulls out the Ultron head.

The second he holds it up, it explodes.

It's a fake!

The Count demands the real head.

Buck stall and reveals the REAL trap.

"We WERE going to bring you the real one, we were. But then it dawned on us that we didn't need to take that chance.

See, all we needed is proof that you'd even TRY to barter for the head of Ultron. Which is on the same list as plutonium in terms of things that you are not allowed to have or buy or sell. I mean worldwide illegal tech."

The count goes in for the kill. But Buck isn't done.

"See, not only did you come out and reveal yourself to be the Kingpin of LA and try to steal an Ultron, you did it on video."

And Echo waves from a nearby building, holding a video camera. Oh, and one more thing…

You see, the Count was enhancing his powers with Mutant Growth Hormones (new street drug that gives people mutant powers).

Moon Knight had been asking Buck to not only enhance his own tech and weapons.... But to make him some pretty potent and illegal chemicals that only a former SHIELD agent had access to.

The Count lays on the ground: "He did somethinggg...to me... My powers."

"It's a chemical Agent. Used mostly on mutants. You released it when you crushed the tin can fake ultron head. Just like you were supposed to. Nick Fury thought it inhumane. Which he was right about. Except there's you."

Buck reminds Moon Knight that it doesn't last all day and they need to get this over with quickly.

The Count panics and flies off while he can, leaving behind Snapdragon.

While Buck and Echo are pleased that it worked and they have Snapdragon, Wolverine is not happy.

"He's going to hunt and destroy you for this, you idiot."

Spider-man comes to his defense. "Hey, he took on a thor bad guy and lived to tell-Give him a break."

Captain America agrees: "He doesn't get Ultron and we have his general. It's a tactical win."

And here's the problem...

While Moon Knight is 'chatting it up' with his own personal Head Avengers...

Echo keeps the video rolling.

He hasn’t talked to her about ‘the voices’ yet. She just knows that ‘something isn’t right with him’. Also? Echo is a lip reader. Even with a mask on, if the fabric is thin enough, she can still read lips. And Moon Knight? His fabric is thin. She just witnessed the whole pretend conversation.

I hate this. I hate that it’s implied that she now knows about his crazy and it’s going to be an issue.

Speaking of issues… This next one is a doozy.

ISSUE # 8

This cover I like. The birds, the moon, the outline of the building…. It’s just a pretty use of space and light.

We open with the Detective from before heaving up to his car.

He finds a knocked out Snapdragon on the hood of his car.

"A present for you, detective."

Moon Knight shows up and the detective pulls out his gun.

"Put the gun away, Detective. We're on, basically, the same side."

The detective fires his gun and Marc uses a new tech weapon to create a forcefield that appears like Captain America's shield, deflecting the bullets.

"Jeez...Settle down."

"What the hell is this?"

"Well I'm trying to have a conversation with you, jumpy. Two guys talking. More or less. Try to focus...Listen carefully..."

(I bet Moon Knight is missing Detective Flint right about now....I know I am.)

He informs the detective about Snapdragon, the Count, and the Kingpin of LA.

Moon Knight then hands him a USB of the video of the Count basically confessing.

The detective really hates the vigilante crap but Moon Knight isn't worth the paperwork so he lets him go.

Next up? We're back in TV land watching the show about Marc's life.

Except we have Marlene and 'Jake Lockley' vs. a werewolf.

Marc is upset by the werewolf's design.

He argues about how he wanted it to be a real looking werewolf. He gets push back on that.

"I thought this was all based on your old life as a soldier of fortune."

"It is."

"Why a werewolf??"

"That happened."

"You were attacked by a werewolf?"

"There's a lot of crazy in the world and--"

(Why is Marc growing a goatee? Does Steven know about this? Does Jake???)

In private, Marc addresses the 'Avengers'.

"What now? What am I doing wrong now?"

Wolverine: "You tell us, big hollywood producer guy."

Captain: "I'm a little confused by you, Moon Knight."

Spider-man: "Guys, leave him alone. Without a Civilian life, you could lose all sense of self. you--"

They tell him to stop goofing off and get back to work as Moon Knight. Count Nefaria is still out there and looking for him.

Marc says Echo is looking into some intel and coming up with a plan.

We head back to the mansion and find Echo still staying with him.

She watches as Buck helps Marc suit up in some new tech.

Marc asks for a web shooter, Buck wants to know why.

Finally Echo gets introduced to Buck and they make friends by him giving her some new fighting tech.

Back at the police station, the Detective is showing his Captain the video.

His captain tells him to get it to the feds, as this is above his paygrade and also illegal since it was gotten by a vigilante.

The Captain dismisses him and the Detective is not too pleased.

Know what time it is? TIME FOR A MONTAGUE. Or, in comic book land, a quick way to move things along over a period of time without taking up too much time to tell you about it.

You also get a lot of single frame wordless art out of it, which can be nice.

So we get Echo and Moon Knight hitting up known places that the Count was investing in. All while the Detective interviews Snapdragon for his own intel.

He tells her that she isn't his problem. The FBI special cases is on the way. He also tells her that he thinks it's interesting that she's been with them for over a day and no one has come to try to break her out or bail her out. Not even a fancy lawyer like what happened with Night Shift.

He goes to leave and she stops him.

MORE MONTAGUE OF MOON KNIGHT AND ECHO KICKING ASS.

They are lighting up the money laundering areas now.

Snapdragon has told the Detective where the Count hangs out. He goes to the Captain with the news and the Captain doesn't want to hear it.

Detective recommends they call in the Avengers and the Captain says they don't have a way to do that.

Detective asks him "With all due respect... How come I get the feeling you don't want to take down the Kingpin of Los Angeles??"

The Captain just leaves. Now that's fishy.

Marc and Echo stake out the next place to hit.

Echo tells him to take off his mask when talking to her so she can 'hear' him.

"Deaf, right. Sorry. You just don't ACT deaf."

"Now what the hell does THAT mean?"

"It means either you can't take a compliment or I can't give one."

Marc...You should know better. You've been on the bad side of discrimination since you were born.

But also... She totally CAN read his lips with the mask... She's lying to him.

Or perhaps it's just easier to do it without the mask and they aren't in a life or death situation so it's fine. Hmmmmm....

He asks how she's feeling, she tells him that she's feeling better and that she needed this.

Spider-man pops up and tells him to kiss her.

Captain America tells him to get moving against Nefaria. Spider-man starts to argue with him about giving Marc a break.

We see Marc physically flinch. Echo either doesn't notice or she ignores it.

Marc asks why she never thought to call the Avengers despite this huge operation she was trying to run alone before he got there.

"I --I never belonged there."

"But this is a big muscle operation. We're going to have to call them eventually. We have to call Somebody."

She kisses him.

She tells him they can do one more "rousing bit of super villain vandalism".

"Nefaria IS a Thor-level bad guy."

Marc tries to remind her that this is out of their league.

UH OH.

Okay so, Anyone else getting a vibe that Marc’s mental health is crashing down around him and EVERYONE is ignoring it? Just because he’s ‘sorta’ told them he hears things doesn’t mean he’s told them the problem. And they clearly don’t understand it. So they’re just looking the other way. Everyone just assumes “That guy’s nuts” and goes with it.

And despite Marc knowing that the three ‘Avengers’ are just in his head, he’s starting to see them more and associate them with him doing a poor job. Seeing them as there to chastise him. He’s also starting to physically respond to them talking to him. Reacting and getting more upset at their appearance. These are all signs of a failing control of the situation. …..They are ALSO signs of a different mental illness. But hey, in Bendis’ world, all mental illnesses are the same, right?

NEXT ISSUE!

Issue #9!

Now THIS is the famous cover! The one you think of when you hear Maleev’s name.

Those whites. Those colors. The way he uses a water color technique. DAMN. He was saving up for this one.

Wait a minute... They changed the title page blurb.

"While attempting to loot the temple of an ancient Egyptian god called Khonshu, mercenary Marc Spector was beaten nearly to death by a trasonous partner. Left to die in the desert, he was taken by a group of Egyptian people to the statue of their diety Khonshu who offered to save his life but only if Spector would become his avatar on Earth.

Spector agreed, and began his career as the costumed crime fighter known as Moon Knight. Night falls, the Moon Knight rises, and neither sorcery, science, nor mortal sin can win against him!"

WHAT THE FU- That's not what happened! That's not even close to what happened?! EGYPTIAN PEOPLE?! LOOTING THE TEMPLE?! Even the most CASUAL Moon Knight fan knows how the story went! How do they manage to fuck that up so badly!? Where's the continuity editor?! Why did they change it?! WH...GAHHHH!

"Unbeknownst to all, Moon Knight has developed split personality disorder-And his personalities have adopted the roles of his former Avengers teammates: Spider-Man, Wolverine and Captain America, all of whom give him guidance on how to be a hero."

Noooooooo. That's not what happened! He didn't just 'develop' D.I.D.

^%$##%^& Okay. I see it now. I see what they did and are doing.

They disliked the Steven and Jake aspect. They really had no idea how to deal with them. ESPECIALLY Bendis, who clearly knew NOTHING about Moon Knight except what the Marvel editors were telling him.

So they tried to give him a bit of a 're-write'. They took away Steven and Jake, made it so he JUST NOW developed DID out of the blue? And now his alters are the Avengers who can tell him how to be a Superhero and give him life advice...

I...I am not okay with this.

And on top of this? They did NO research into his mental health issue, probably watched some old Hollywood movie or two and then based it off of that. Then went with all the lines about him having "Schizophrenia" and just tossed those symptoms in there too for funzies.

I can't. I just cannot.

This run is SO triggering. In so many BAD ways. GAH. Okay. I'm...I'm going to keep going. I'll save it. Because I know how it ends and boy howdy....

BACK TO THE COMIC.

Alright, our comic opens up with...and I kid you not:

"Marc Spector's stately awesome house, last week".

He's trying out his new shield like Captain America's. And why is Marc growing a goatee? It looks terrible on him.

"No, Buck, I asked for a sheild like Captain America's."

"That IS a shield like Captain America's."

And they argue what his shield looks like. Buck questions Marc's Avender status because he's never seen him on the TV with the other team.

"Can you keep a secret?"

[....]

"I'm a secret Avenger."

"Moving on. See, Captain America's original shield is made of a vibranium/adamantium alloy."

"I know."

"Well then you know neither vibranium nor adamantium is exactly growin' on trees. I mean, you're rich but you ain't THAT rich."

So instead he made him a 'zero point energy shield'. Basically a retractable force field that pops up in the shape of Cap's shield. He can also throw it. So that's cool. Portable shield.

He asks Marc why he wants a Cap shield. Marc just says it's cool.

PRESENT TIME

And.... I have to laugh about this.

You have this god level bad guy with scary powers...

And he's just pissed off that MOON KNIGHT, of all the people in the world, MOON KNIGHT is the one that's just annoying the hell out of him. Just a regular guy.

And that's just spot on Moon Knight energy right there. Being obstinate and annoying to the bad guys since the OG run.

Cap deflects the incoming blast with his shield and tells Marc that they're out of their league and they need to get the heck out of there.

"Retreat, regroup, and plan the attack to your own strengths and your own rules. RUN!!"

Everyone keeps talking about how this guy has fought all the avengers and fought Thor to a stand still. LIke, we get it. He's powerful. I've still not got him on my list of known top villains but SURE! I Don't know every bad guy that makes their rounds in the comics.

But I still just feel like putting him in a Moon Knight comic where he's having break down issues is just unfair. And then the other Avengers KNOWING who he is facing and not standing by to help him...

"Superhuman strength, speed, durability.... He can kill you with his optic blasts. He can fly. Not going to listen to me? Then at the very least get HER out of here, Spector. If you're crazy enough to fight this fight, fine. But you get her out of here!" Cap continues to argue with Marc

Marc grabs her and shoves her into a building while he runs around to distract The Count.

Echo is pretty pissed at being tossed aside.

"And I thought I hit rock bottom hooking up with Murdock!"

(Oh honey, he's everyone's rock bottom.)

Captain America continues to lecture Marc about how this fight is above him. How the Count could kill him in an instant and is just toying with him.

Flash back to last week!

We see Buck fitting Marc with Web-shooters.

Buck once again asks Marc why he wants Web-shooters when that's Spider-Man's thing. Marc doesn't answer.

PRESENT. We see Marc get blasted off a building and he uses the web-shooters to stop his fall.

Spider-Man now tries to reason with Marc.

"Look at him. You gotta give him credit for dressing like Old School Dracula. I mean, seriously, where do you even BUY a monocle nowadays? What is he the Count of anyways? I bet nothing. He just decided to call himself count."

He says what I'm thinking.

I appreciate that.

Moon Knight turns on the villain and Spider-Man tells him to "NOT get within arm's length of the Super-Powered Bad Guy."

Yeah, Marc gets blasted back.

"Look, it's safe to say, when in doubt, ALWAYS listen to Captain America. I mean as religions go, that wouldn't be the worst one I've ever heard of."

Marc manages to get tossed aside but also web the Count down a bit.

Spider-Man tells him to get running.

He looks back and finds Echo there beating on the Count.

While she distracts him, Marc attacks and throws him into a car.

Yeah, way to arm the dude.

And for the second time in this run, Marc gets a vehicle thrown at him.

Ah. I see.

So, Marc puts himself up close and personal to attack again and this makes Spider-Man nervous.

"YOu're doing that thing where you're getting too close to the big super baddie."

But you see, this is Moon Knight's fighting style. Marc KNOWS he can take hits And when you are close, the attacker has a harder time fighting back. Especially one that uses fire and explosions. They can't explode you without hurting themselves.

Spider-Man's fighting style is always stay out of range, wear the bad guy down, and attack with long range.

In fact, Marc gets up face to face with this guy.

FLASHBACK TO LAST WEEK!

We see Buck fitting Marc with Wolverine retractable claws.

"It's not Adamantium, but it's the best I could do."

Buck explains that it's stronger attached to his arm than it would as a sword. It will reinforce his arm while also lending strength for damage.

"Good. I need close quarter weaponry. This is very good."

"You want to be Wolverine too?"

"I need to make sure if I get this close."

"You want to be Spider-Man, Captain America AND Wolverine...All at the same time."

Marc doesn't answer him.

"The voices in your head. The ones you told me about... Are these them?"

PRESENT.

Wolverine is now goading on Marc.

He pulls out the claws and stars stabbing.

"Gut the son of a bitch!!! Don't let up. Get in there. Cut off his @#$@$@ HEAD!!!"

And suddenly they are start arguing.

This is a problem. The three 'guides' are arguing wanting different things and even MARC wants something different.

Echo jumps in again and beats on the Count some more.

Marc attempts to cut off the Count's head with the claws and gets thrown.

This let's the Count turn on Echo and blast her.

Yeah... That's not good.

Warning for Character death I guess.

(She comes back in later comics. Nothing stays gone in Comics. Plus she's getting her own show in the MCU. You know they gotta bring her back so they can push her on the people. She's a deaf native woman. Marvel's gotta exploit the HELL out of that.)

Okay....Things are about to go SOUTH.

Wolverine goes Berserker mode. Captain America argues that they are better than this and don't kill. Wolverine wants blood. Spider-man wants them to just stop.

So Wolverine attacks Captain America.

That’s some really nice art. I love the lines for the shadows. The crisp edges. The colors. The shredded cape. Even the action is stellar. Maleev you get that bread.

ALRIGHT. That ends this issue. And we’re seeing what COULD be considered extreme System breakdown… Except this is not being written in a system sort of way. What we have is the Avengers acting as sort of Shoulder Angels that tell him what to do to be an Avenger and the three have conflicting personalities. And Bendis knows this because he WRITES for the Avengers. Famously so! So he’s given us Spider-Man, Captain America, and Wolverine, the three more famous characters in Marvel, who also have VERY conflicting personalities and views on how to be heroes.

But again… You don’t need Wolverine’s rage here. MARC has enough rage. Marc has lost a LOT of people. Marc is more than capable of going berserker on his own. He’s no timid snowflake. Marc has done some… truly terrible things in the past. Even Moench wrote it that Marc has a most violent rage and is capable of carrying out the most heinous of deeds.

And Steven is the one that would tell them to back off. Tell them to run. To keep strategic and protect Echo. Jake would be the one telling him to be careful. To watch his back. To stop making stupid moves that is putting them in danger.

Jake has lost people too. Jake is usually the one that faces the grief. That feels the loss of friends and loved ones.

This issue…This RUN should have been about System breakdown. The struggle of trying to give everyone what they want when everyone wants something different. About finding balance in how to live a shared life. In dealing with grief and trauma and danger.

It could have been Marc losing Echo and raging out and forcing front away from the others. It could have been about him trying to hide his DID and failing because Jake is tired of masking and Steven wants to do things differently.

It could have been about them fighting over how to gear up and Buck trying to figure out why they keep asking for such different things. Marc trying to explain things the way Marc always does (badly. Marc explains things badly. Marc is bad at things.) and making everyone around him worry. We could have seen Echo trying to figure out this relationship she’s suddenly getting in with what she doesn’t know is three men. About Marc struggling with suddenly experiencing more symptoms than he’s used to as the system breaks down. Time skips, waking up in different locations, trying to wave away weird things and being in Denial. We certainly saw a lot of that in Moench’s run as the system became aware of itself! Now the system is aware and STRUGGLING.

I’m forever going to be bitter over how good this comic COULD have been.

ANYWAYS. I’m going to break it into anther part here because I’m almost out of pic space and I don’t want to cut the last three issues up worse than I need to.

PART THREE HERE

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight comics #BENDIS #Analyzing the comics #Marc Spector #I just realized I can't put the Jake and Steven tags here because THEY AREN'T IN THIS #Ugh

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nottoofondofgaypeople · 4 months

Text

In Regards to Gene

Content warning: abuse, r-pe, and light discussions of World of Warcraft

In a previous post that I have since taken down, I discussed the idea of the Shadow Knight Polycule and their victims in Laurance and Vylad. And in this discussion I really got away from myself and wrote some stuff that seemed... well not great at the time, but fitting for the characters and the story I wanted to tell. This reading wasn't very kind to Gene, but I've never been kind to Gene. I've been treating Gene like a punching bag since I first had to suffer through Phoenix Drop High Season 1, and it only worsened when I had to suffer through Lovers Lane.

As a result I hadn't thought about MCD Gene in a more sympathetic light until after that post went up. It was after that post went up that I started doing more ruminating on the Nether, The Shadow King, and the absolute horror of a Shadow Knights existence. It was after this ruminating that I realized that what happened with Gene was that I was treating him well...

Like Arthas Menethil. For a bit of context for those of you who haven't lost brain cells over World Of Warcraft, Arthas is basically the biggest evilest villain in WoW, but he's a villain the player can see the entire rise and fall of. The first campaign puts you in his shoes as a young paladin, and you watch as he constantly makes the worst, most violent, most evil choices through the entire campaign. Arthas is just an absolute and unapologetic monster who creates so many victims through his entire miserable existence that he keeps mementos of them.

And a lot of WoW fans try to characterize Arthas' story as a hero's fall thing? Like he was a good person who was corrupted by bad forces, even though you're shown him being a vile evil person before Frostmourne and the Lich King start fucking with him. Arthas was just a monster looking for an excuse. And I think I let that color my perception of Gene because he really is similar to Arthas in a lot of ways. He's pretty evil, manipulates people like nobody's business, uses magic to do so a lot, has a tense bitter relationship with an old companion, harasses one particular woman with white hair and an association to the color purple a lot, and the actual text of MCD never encourages the viewer to take a sympathetic look towards him, just like WoW.

As a result, I wrote him a lot like Arhtas, which in hindsight, might have been too harsh. Gene does have some redeeming qualities, and honestly with enough work he could possibly have been redeemed at some point. The tragedy of Gene in my rewrite is that said point in time has long past. Anyone foolish enough to try doing so now won't succeed.

Gene was not a good person before the Shadow King found him. A person worth understanding? Yes. A person with a chance of redemption? Maybe, depends on how Dante feels. A person who was also a victim of the Shadow King? Yes.

And that's where I changed my tune on Gene. While I hold the belief that Gene was far from perfect before he got turned, he still had a chance to be a good person before said turning. And the process of being broken down from the person he was into essentially an extension of the Shadow King was not kind to the remnants of a good person left in Gene. So, I want to be a little kinder to Gene.

Cutting the idea of him using Laurance I think it happened exactly once, and the context of it changes the scene from being outright r-pe into a dub-con territory. My previous characterization was dangerously close to the territory of "abuse victim becomes abuser", which I never want people to take from my work. I think that whole thing happened partially out of Gene's control and was really one of the moments that made him doubt what he was doing. These doubts are really too little too late though.

The degrading of Gene's relationship isn't entirely his fault either. While he still clearly loves Sasha and Zenix, the Shadow King calls on him more and more, pulling him away from them. And when the Shadow King breaks Zenix it only gets worse. Gene and Zenix are pitted against each other because the Shadow King realized they were both having silly little thoughts about free will and would turn against him. This polycule was never going to last because if the three of them got along and were normal and without the Shadow Kings influence for like two days they would have started a rebellion before Laurance ever even entered the Nether.

I think Gene struggles to show affection while around others. If Sasha or Zenix flirts with him around other shadow knights, he gets really tense and uneasy about it. But the minute they're alone it's endless kisses and apologies and reassurances. Despite having a skewed understanding of love, Gene is very good at showing it. Gene feels like someone who loves in an overwhelming sense, you feel like you're drowning in his love, for better or for worse.

Gene is not going to get redeemed in my rewrite. But he will be humanized. People will try to call him a violent thoughtless monster, and Sasha will gladly assure them that he is a violent calculated monster with thoughts and emotions that's being tormented by the voices of the departed. Gene will never be seen as a hero by his family, but he will likely never know if he has a family to begin with. Gene is a character who deserves better, but has lost every chance at it he possibly could have had.

#minecraft diaries #mcd rewrite #minecraft diaries rewrite #aphblr #mcd gene #mcd sasha #mcd zenix #character rewrite #character comparison #world of warcraft #really sorry I made you guys think about WoW #mcd laurance #mcd vylad #they're just mentioned though #mcd shad #god I hate that his name is that #shadow knights

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yen-yay · 11 months

Text

Honeymoon Knight (Bastien)

Part 2 / 2

[Yay] = Insert Name

After a while…Bastien and I came to the temple. One of the legends of Kalliste.

"He who is given the Hwadong in the temple of the goddess is blessed with good fortune.”

The temple of the goddess is the setting for this legend.

Bastien was standing in the temple of the goddess with a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

Bastien:

Thank you, [Yay]. Thank you for staying with me all this way.

I am so happy to be able to spend this day alone with you…

I was very happy. I was very happy to spend a peaceful time with my precious partner.

I was so happy to be with you. Being with [Yay]…I could feel the happiness in my heart. I am so sad that today is over.

You:

Bastien…

Bastien:

But I...I will continue to be by your side, [Yay].

I will continue to be next to [Yay]...I will protect you.

Mrs. [Yay]…Please accept this bouquet of flowers.

Saying that, Bastien…held out a bouquet of soft pink flowers.

The fluffy and distinctive flowers gave a gentle impression. It is a very pretty bouquet.

Bastien:

Pink starches. The language of the flowers is "everlasting.”

Mrs. [Yay], you are the one I want to protect with everything I have.

My body, my heart, my life…

Everything I am…

I swear I will devote myself to you forever. In my life, which was nothing but a sword,...Who brought light to my life…None other than…[Yay], it's you.

No matter how long I have to live from now on…I will live…All of me belongs to you, [Yay].

So, please…Please…Please accept this bouquet. I am...

I'm thinking of you all the time.

I will be next to you at all times.

And I will protect your... I will protect your body, your heart, your life... everything. I promise to make you happy.

Bastien did not look away... Bastien looked me straight in the eye.

I gently…I accepted Bastien’s bouquet.

You:

Bastien is very important to me, too.

Bastien:

Hmph, hmph…Lord…

No, [Yay]…Thank you for accepting me.

Thank you for accepting my feelings. Thank you for allowing me to continue to be next to you…

Thank you so much. Right now…I am happy from the bottom of my heart. Everything I am belongs to you. From now on…I promise to take good care of you, [Yay].

I will make you happy.

Saying this, Bastien…This man said he will take care of me for the rest of my life…I'll take care of him forever…

He looked into my eyes and smiled softly.

It was a gentle smile that made me think so.

Bastien:

Well, Mrs. [Yay]…

I'm sorry to leave you…I think it's time for us to go.

You:

I understand.

On the way back from the temple, I was resting in the flower garden... Bastien called out to me. I took the bouquet of flowers that Bastien had given me…I ran to him. Bastien got on his horse…and quickly pulled me up on the horse.

He is also riding a white horse... Today he was like a prince from a fairy tale.

Bastien:

Hmm…? [Yay], what's wrong?

You:

Bastien, you look like a prince.

Bastien:

A prince...?

I'm a prince?

You:

Because you're so cool.

Bastien:

Hmph--". I see.

[Yay], I'm sure…even though you know I'm not cool.

But still I’m really glad that you still think I’m cool. I'm really happy.

I'm not like the hero of a fairy tale... I'm not a perfect being...

Still, I can make you...I want to be the one who can make you happy.

If I can make [Yay] happy...If we can be together forever...

I am the happiest person in the world.

You:

Bastien…

Bastien:

Well... let's get going. [Yay], lean your body with mine.

You:

Okay, okay.

I leaned against Bastien…

I leaned my back against him.

Bastien:

Hmph--. Then let's go.

Bastien gave the signal, and the white horse slowly…slowly started to walk.

It seemed that he was going to take the long way around on his way.

Bastien must be...Bastien must be hoping that this happy time will last for a long time.

You:

Bastien…

Let's go slowly, Bastien.

Bastien:

… …Oh, yes, I will. Hey, [Yay]...

Honey…What's up?

Bastien put the reins together in one hand and…With his other hand, he caressed my bouquet.

I wish this day can last forever.

THE END

(I cried a lot, I hope you enjoyed)

#akuneko #aknk #devil butler with black cat #Honeymoon Knight #Bastien Kelly

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istumpysk · 1 year

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: The Queensguard (Barristan I) [Chapter 55]

Welcome to Part II of the LOCUSTS MYSTERIES.

Click for Part I.

"You were the queen's man," said Reznak mo Reznak. "The king desires his own men about him when he holds court."

I am the queen's man still. Today, tomorrow, always, until my last breath, or hers.

God please shut the fuck up.

+.+.+

Barristan Selmy refused to believe that Daenerys Targaryen was dead.

Perhaps that was why he was being put aside.

"Wait for it" will not prepare you for the nonsense that's coming.

+.+.+

One by one, Hizdahr removes us all. Strong Belwas lingered at the door of death in the temple, under the care of the Blue Graces … though Selmy half suspected they were finishing the job those honeyed locusts had begun.

Why? Is there a single thing you could point to that would justify that belief?

+.+.+

Skahaz Shavepate had been stripped of his command. The Unsullied had withdrawn to their barracks. Jhogo, Daario Naharis, Admiral Groleo, and Hero of the Unsullied remained hostages of the Yunkai'i. Aggo and Rakharo and the rest of the queen's khalasar had been dispatched across the river to search for their lost queen. Even Missandei had been replaced; the king did not think it fit to use a child as his herald, and a onetime Naathi slave at that. And now me.

The more George amplifies Bad Guy Hizdahr, the uglier his death will be.

+.+.+

And this mistrust was mutual. Hizdahr zo Loraq might be his queen's consort, but he would never be his king.

Perhaps that was why he was being put aside.

Yeah, I wonder why Hizdahr wouldn't want you protecting him.

+.+.+

"If His Grace wishes for me to remove myself from court …"

"His Radiance," the seneschal corrected.

"Might I know which men His Grace has chosen to protect him?"

"May they defend His Grace against all threats." Ser Barristan's tone gave no hint of his true feelings; he had learned to hide such back in King's Landing years ago.

"His Magnificence," Reznak mo Reznak stressed.

"I am His Grace's to command."

"Not Grace," the seneschal complained. "That style is Westerosi. His Magnificence, His Radiance, His Worship."

His Vanity would fit better. "As you say."

I'm sorry, we're going to have to address this before we can move on.

This is so fucking obnoxious, it makes Daenerys look like the world's greatest xenophile.

He's not just refusing to use the proper title, he's actually insulting Hizdahr zo Loraq.

"A whore, you mean."

"They call them Graces. They come in different colors. The red ones are the only ones who fuck." - The Dragontamer, ADWD

The Graces are priestesses of the Ghiscari region. Some of them are prostitutes. There's no vanity, Reznak is requesting common fucking courtesy.

Pay attention to how Reznak mo Reznak addresses Barristan Selmy, despite knighthood not existing in Meereen.

Surely you can understand that, ser.

Your other duties shall remain unchanged, ser.

Incredible how easy it is to be respectful.

+.+.+

"No, no, no, you misunderstand me. His Worship is to receive a delegation from the Yunkai'i, to discuss the withdrawal of their armies. They may ask for … ah … recompense for those who lost their lives to the dragon's wroth. A delicate situation. The king feels it will be better if they see a Meereenese king upon the throne, protected by Meereenese warriors. Surely you can understand that, ser."

I understand more than you know.

HAHAHAHA.

no.

You are a clever imp, just as Varys said, and Daenerys will have need of clever men about her. Ser Barristan is a valiant knight and true; but none, I think, has ever called him cunning. - Tyrion II, ADWD

+.+.+

"Might I know which men His Grace has chosen to protect him?"

Reznak mo Reznak smiled his slimy smile. "Fearsome fighters, who love His Worship well. Goghor the Giant. Khrazz. The Spotted Cat. Belaquo Bonebreaker. Heroes all."

Pit fighters all. Ser Barristan was unsurprised.

Slaves. They're slaves.

+.+.+

Hizdahr zo Loraq sat uneasily on his new throne. It had been a thousand years since Meereen last had a king, and there were some even amongst the old blood who thought they might have made a better choice than him.

Gosh it almost sounds like now would be a bad time to kill his wife.

+.+.+

And the king's protectors grew fewer every day. Hizdahr's blunder with Grey Worm had cost him the Unsullied. When His Grace had tried to put them under the command of a cousin, as he had the Brazen Beasts, Grey Worm had informed the king that they were free men who took commands only from their mother. As for the Brazen Beasts, half were freedmen and the rest shavepates, whose true loyalty might still be to Skahaz mo Kandaq. The pit fighters were King Hizdahr's only reliable support, against a sea of enemies.

I'm not about to defend his decision to try and takeover the Unsullied.

+.+.+

"May they defend His Grace against all threats." Ser Barristan's tone gave no hint of his true feelings; he had learned to hide such back in King's Landing years ago.

Perhaps that was why he was being put aside.

+.+.+

"Your other duties shall remain unchanged, ser. Should this peace fail, His Radiance would still wish for you to command his forces against the enemies of our city."

He has that much sense, at least. Belaquo Bonebreaker and Goghor the Giant might serve as Hizdahr's shields, but the notion of either leading an army into battle was so ludicrous that the old knight almost smiled.

Slaves. They're slaves.

+.+.+

This time his oily smile betokened dismissal. Ser Barristan took his leave, grateful to leave the stench of the seneschal's perfume behind him. A man should smell of sweat, not flowers.

Amazed you can even smell him with all that brown on your nose.

This (not the) perfumed seneschal is a walking dead guy.

+.+.+

The Great Pyramid of Meereen was eight hundred feet high from base to point. The seneschal's chambers were on the second level. The queen's apartments, and his own, occupied the highest step. A long climb for a man my age, Ser Barristan thought, as he started up. He had been known to make that climb five or six times a day on the queen's business, as the aches in his knees and the small of his back could attest. There will come a day when I can no longer face these steps, he thought, and that day will be here sooner than I would like.

Eight hundred feet? What the hell is George R. R. Martin smoking?

He's Cressen!

To reach him they must cross the gallery, pass through the middle and inner walls with their guardian gargoyles and black iron gates, and ascend more steps than Cressen cared to contemplate. Young men climbed steps two at a time; for old men with bad hips, every one was a torment. - Prologue, ACOK

+.+.+

Mezzara, Miklaz, Qezza, and the rest of the queen's young cupbearers—hostages in truth, but both Selmy and the queen had become so fond of them that it was hard for him to think of them that way—had gone with the king, whilst Irri and Jhiqui departed with the other Dothraki.

I bet they haven't forgotten.

+.+.+

Only Missandei remained, a forlorn little ghost haunting the queen's chambers at the apex of the pyramid.

So she's kinda like a ghost in Pyramid?

+.+.+

The Yunkishmen burning their dead, he realized. The pale mare is galloping through their siege camps. Despite all the queen had done, the sickness had spread, both within the city walls and without. Meereen's markets were closed, its streets empty. King Hizdahr had allowed the fighting pits to remain open, but the crowds were sparse. The Meereenese had even begun to shun the Temple of the Graces, reportedly.

The slavers will find some way to blame Daenerys for that as well, Ser Barristan thought bitterly.

A leader should not take credit when things go right if they are not willing to accept responsibility when things go wrong.

+.+.+

Forty-seven years, and the taste still lingered in his memory, yet he could not have said what he had supped on ten days ago if all seven kingdoms had depended on it. Boiled dog, most like. Or some other foul dish that tasted no better.

You are such a twat.

+.+.+

Ten years ago I would have sensed what Daenerys meant to do. Ten years ago I would have been quick enough to stop her. Instead he had stood befuddled as she leapt into the pit, shouting her name, then running uselessly after her across the scarlet sands. I am become old and slow. Small wonder Naharis mocked him as Ser Grandfather. Would Daario have moved more quickly if he had been beside the queen that day? Selmy thought he knew the answer to that, though it was not one he liked.

Too slow, old man?

If he is anywhere near her when she dies I will climax right then and there.

+.+.+

Her hair was aflame. She had the whip in her hand and she was shouting, then she was on the dragon's back, flying.

+.+.+

Beyond the gates had been a solid press of people. Maddened by the smell of dragon, horses below reared in terror, lashing out with iron-shod hooves. Food stalls and palanquins alike were overturned, men knocked down and trampled. Spears were thrown, crossbows were fired. Some struck home. The dragon twisted violently in the air, wounds smoking, the girl clinging to his back. Then he loosed the fire.

It had taken the rest of the day and most of the night for the Brazen Beasts to gather up the corpses. The final count was two hundred fourteen slain, three times as many burned or wounded.

TWO HUNDRED FOURTEEN?

He's already dracarys'd two hundred fourteen people with her mounted on his back?

She better hope I don't find any evidence she said the word.

+.+.+

Some swore they saw her fall. Others insisted that the dragon had carried her off to devour her. They are wrong.

That's true, actually.

+.+.+

"She might be flying home," he told himself, aloud.

"No," murmured a soft voice behind him. "She would not do that, ser. She would not go home without us."

Ser Barristan turned. "Missandei. Child. How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long. This one is sorry if she has disturbed you." She hesitated.

Not Barristan Selmy being caught off guard by Missandei paragraphs after he contemplates whether he's too old and slow.

+.+.+

"Skahaz mo Kandaq wishes words with you."

"The Shavepate? You spoke with him?" That was rash, rash. The enmity ran deep between Shakaz and the king, and the girl was clever enough to know that. Skahaz had been outspoken in his opposition to the queen's marriage, a fact Hizdahr had not forgotten. "Is he here? In the pyramid?"

"When he wishes. He comes and goes, ser."

Yes. He would. "Who told you he wants words with me?"

"A Brazen Beast. He wore an owl mask."

He wore an owl mask when he spoke to you. By now he could be a jackal, a tiger, a sloth. Ser Barristan had hated the masks from the start and never more than now. Honest men should never need to hide their faces. And the Shavepate …

Skahaz of many faces coming and going as he pleases. Love the sound of that.

Honest men should never need to hide their faces.

Lol.

+.+.+

He did not like the taste of this. It smelled of deceit, of whispers and lies and plots hatched in the dark, all the things he'd hoped to leave behind with the Spider and Lord Littlefinger and their ilk. Barristan Selmy was not a bookish man,

We can tell.

+.+.+

but he had often glanced through the pages of the White Book, where the deeds of his predecessors had been recorded. Some had been heroes, some weaklings, knaves, or cravens. Most were only men—quicker and stronger than most, more skilled with sword and shield, but still prey to pride, ambition, lust, love, anger, jealousy, greed for gold, hunger for power, and all the other failings that afflicted lesser mortals. The best of them overcame their flaws, did their duty, and died with their swords in their hands. The worst …

The worst were those who played the game of thrones. "Can you find this owl again?" he asked Missandei.

"This one can try, ser."

"Tell him I will speak with … with our friend … after dark, by the stables."

Exactly what Barristan Selmy is about to do.

There you have it, in his own words, the worst of the Kingsguard.

+.+.+

Missandei turned as if to go, then paused a moment and said, "It is said that the Yunkai'i have ringed the city all about with scorpions, to loose iron bolts into the sky should Drogon return."

Ser Barristan had heard that too. "It is no simple thing to slay a dragon in the sky. In Westeros, many tried to bring down Aegon and his sisters. None succeeded."

That was three hundred years ago.

Weapons evolve over time. Dragons haven't.

+.+.+

Aegon's son Jaehaerys had bestowed the white cloak on him when he was three-and-twenty, after he slew Maelys the Monstrous during the War of the Ninepenny Kings. In that same cloak he had stood beside the Iron Throne as madness consumed Jaehaerys's son Aerys. Stood, and saw, and heard, and yet did nothing.

But no. That was not fair. He did his duty. Some nights, Ser Barristan wondered if he had not done that duty too well. He had sworn his vows before the eyes of gods and men, he could not in honor go against them … but the keeping of those vows had grown hard in the last years of King Aerys's reign. He had seen things that it pained him to recall, and more than once he wondered how much of the blood was on his own hands.

It's unreal he has so much disdain for Jaime Lannister.

I'm allowed to hate Jaime Lannister, Barristan Selmy is not.

+.+.+

If he had not gone into Duskendale to rescue Aerys from Lord Darklyn's dungeons, the king might well have died there as Tywin Lannister sacked the town. Then Prince Rhaegar would have ascended the Iron Throne, mayhaps to heal the realm. Duskendale had been his finest hour, yet the memory tasted bitter on his tongue.

It was his failures that haunted him at night, though. Jaehaerys, Aerys, Robert. Three dead kings.

God damn your life has been pointless.

+.+.+

Rhaegar, who would have been a finer king than any of them. Princess Elia and the children. Aegon just a babe, Rhaenys with her kitten. Dead, every one, yet he still lived, who had sworn to protect them. And now Daenerys, his bright shining child queen. She is not dead. I will not believe it.

Me thinks Barry is going to have to convince himself Aegon is not real.

+.+.+

Afternoon brought Ser Barristan a brief respite from his doubts. He spent it in the training hall on the pyramid's third level, working with his boys, teaching them the art of sword and shield, horse and lance … and chivalry, the code that made a knight more than any pit fighter.

Slaves. They're slaves.

+.+.+

With no king to guard, I will have more time to train them now, he realized as he walked from pair to pair, watching them go at one another with blunted swords and spears with rounded heads. Brave boys. Baseborn, aye, but some will make good knights, and they love the queen. If not for her, all of them would have ended in the pits. King Hizdahr has his pit fighters, but Daenerys will have knights.

Slaves. They're slaves.

Why do you have so much contempt for these slaves?

+.+.+

He kept his sword and dagger. This could still be some trap. He had little trust in Hizdahr and less in Reznak mo Reznak. The perfumed seneschal could well be part of this, trying to lure him into a secret meeting so he could sweep up him and Skahaz both and charge them with conspiring against the king.

Reznak mo Reznak has yet to do a single thing wrong in this book.

#JusticeforReznak

+.+.+

If the Shavepate speaks treason, he will leave me no choice but to arrest him. Hizdahr is my queen's consort, however little I may like it. My duty is to him, not Skahaz.

Wait for it.

+.+.+

Or was it?

The first duty of the Kingsguard was to defend the king from harm or threat. The white knights were sworn to obey the king's commands as well, to keep his secrets, counsel him when counsel was requested and keep silent when it was not, serve his pleasure and defend his name and honor. Strictly speaking, it was purely the king's choice whether or not to extend Kingsguard protection to others, even those of royal blood. Some kings thought it right and proper to dispatch Kingsguard to serve and defend their wives and children, siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins of greater and lesser degree, and occasionally even their lovers, mistresses, and bastards. But others preferred to use household knights and men-at-arms for those purposes, whilst keeping their seven as their own personal guard, never far from their sides.

Ahem.

Look at honorable Barristan Selmy desperately searching for justification to skirt his duty.

+.+.+

Then a shadow detached itself from inside an empty stall and became another Brazen Beast, clad in pleated black skirt, greaves, and muscled breastplate. "A cat?" said Barristan Selmy when he saw the brass beneath the hood. When the Shavepate had commanded the Brazen Beasts, he had favored a serpent's-head mask, imperious and frightening.

"Cats go everywhere," replied the familiar voice of Skahaz mo Kandaq. "No one ever looks at them."

Please don't tell me he's wearing a cat mask.

Please don't tell me the man who may have attempted to assassinate Daenerys is wearing a cat mask.

LMAO.

+.+.+

"If Hizdahr should learn that you are here …"

"Who will tell him? Marghaz? Marghaz knows what I want him to know. The Beasts are still mine. Do not forget it."

Oops, oops. Who surrounded Daenerys the day the fighting pits reopened?

At the base of the Great Pyramid, Ser Barristan awaited them beside an ornate open palanquin, surrounded by Brazen Beasts. Ser Grandfather, Dany thought. Despite his age, he looked tall and handsome in the armor that she'd given him. "I would be happier if you had Unsullied guards about you today, Your Grace," the old knight said, as Hizdahr went to greet his cousin. "Half of these Brazen Beasts are untried freedmen." And the other half are Meereenese of doubtful loyalty, he left unsaid. Selmy mistrusted all the Meereenese, even shavepates.

[...]

"A mask can hide many things, Your Grace. Is the man behind the owl mask the same owl who guarded you yesterday and the day before? How can we know?" - Daenerys IX, ADWD

+.+.+

"I have the poisoner."

"Who?"

"Hizdahr's confectioner. His name would mean nothing to you. The man was just a catspaw. The Sons of the Harpy took his daughter and swore she would be returned unharmed once the queen was dead. Belwas and the dragon saved Daenerys. No one saved the girl. She was returned to her father in the black of night, in nine pieces. One for every year she lived."

Hey stupid, ask him why they would kill the daughter if half the city believes Daenerys is dead.

He could almost hear them whispering—Great Masters, Sons of the Harpy, Yunkai'i, all telling one another that his queen was dead. Half of the city believed it, though as yet they did not have the courage to say such words aloud.

+.+.+

"Why?" Doubts gnawed at him. "The Sons had stopped their killing. Hizdahr's peace—"

"—is a sham. Not at first, no. The Yunkai'i were afraid of our queen, of her Unsullied, of her dragons. This land has known dragons before. Yurkhaz zo Yunzak had read his histories, he knew. Hizdahr as well. Why not a peace? Daenerys wanted it, they could see that. Wanted it too much. She should have marched to Astapor." Skahaz moved closer. "That was before. The pit changed all. Daenerys gone, Yurkhaz dead. In place of one old lion, a pack of jackals. Bloodbeard … that one has no taste for peace. And there is more. Worse. Volantis has launched its fleet against us."

In other words, the peace was real?

Hey stupid, ask him why the locusts were poisoned before Drogon touched down in the fighting pits.

+.+.+

"Volantis." Selmy's sword hand tingled. We made a peace with Yunkai. Not with Volantis.

The peace deal with Yunkai allows for slave trade to continue everywhere but Meereen. Volantis launched their fleet because Daenerys destroyed the slave trade.

I can't know for sure, but I think war could have been avoided once they arrived.

This arrogant child has taken it upon herself to smash the slave trade, but that traffic was never confined to Slaver's Bay. It was part of the sea of trade that spanned the world, and the dragon queen has clouded the water. - Tyrion VI, ADWD

+.+.+

"You are certain?" "Certain. The Wise Masters know. So do their friends. The Harpy, Reznak, Hizdahr. This king will open the city gates to the Volantenes when they arrive. All those Daenerys freed will be enslaved again. Even some who were never slaves will be fitted for chains. You may end your days in a fighting pit, old man. Khrazz will eat your heart."

His head was pounding. "Daenerys must be told."

Lying. There's still a contingent of Yunkish lords who wish to honor the peace deal.

Poor old Yezzan. The lord of suet was not so bad as masters went. Sweets had been right about that. Serving at his nightly banquets, Tyrion had soon learned that Yezzan stood foremost amongst those Yunkish lords who favored honoring the peace with Meereen. - Tyrion XI, ADWD

"No. Have the Yunkishmen chosen a new commander?"

"The council of masters has been unable to agree. Yezzan zo Qaggaz had the most support, but now he's died as well. - The Spurned Suitor, ADWD

+.+.+

Skahaz grasped his forearm. His fingers felt like iron. "We cannot wait for her. I have spoken with the Free Brothers, the Mother's Men, the Stalwart Shields. They have no trust in Loraq. We must break the Yunkai'i. But we need the Unsullied. Grey Worm will listen to you. Speak to him."

"To what end?" He is speaking treason. Conspiracy.

If the Shavepate speaks treason, he will leave me no choice but to arrest him. Hizdahr is my queen's consort, however little I may like it. My duty is to him, not Skahaz.

+.+.+

"Life." The Shavepate's eyes were black pools behind the brazen cat mask. "We must strike before the Volantenes arrive. Break the siege, kill the slaver lords, turn their sellswords. The Yunkai'i do not expect an attack. I have spies in their camps. There's sickness, they say, worse every day. Discipline has gone to rot. The lords are drunk more oft than not, gorging themselves at feasts, telling each other of the riches they'll divide when Meereen falls, squabbling over primacy. Bloodbeard and the Tattered Prince despise each other. No one expects a fight. Not now. Hizdahr's peace has lulled us to sleep, they believe."

"Daenerys signed that peace," Ser Barristan said. "It is not for us to break it without her leave."

Astonishing how often this man calls for blood.

The Shavepate has a harder heart than mine. They had fought about the hostages half a dozen times. "The Sons of the Harpy are laughing in their pyramids," Skahaz said, just this morning. "What good are hostages if you will not take their heads?" - Daenerys IV, ADWD

Dany studied the scroll. All the ruling families of Meereen were named: Hazkar, Merreq, Quazzar, Zhak, Rhazdar, Ghazeen, Pahl, even Reznak and Loraq. "What am I to do with a list of names?"

"Every man on that list has kin within the city. Sons and brothers, wives and daughters, mothers and fathers. Let my Brazen Beasts seize them. Their lives will win you back those ships." - Daenerys V, ADWD

+.+.+

"What of Hizdahr? He is still her consort. Her king. Her husband."

"Her poisoner."

Is he? "Where is your proof?"

"The crown he wears is proof enough. The throne he sits. Open your eyes, old man. That is all he needed from Daenerys, all he ever wanted. Once he had it, why share the rule?"

Why indeed?

That's not proof.

I don't know Barristan, why don't you take a second to think about it. Could there be a less opportune moment for Hizdahr to kill Daeneyrs?

Pit fighters all. Ser Barristan was unsurprised. Hizdahr zo Loraq sat uneasily on his new throne. It had been a thousand years since Meereen last had a king, and there were some even amongst the old blood who thought they might have made a better choice than him. Outside the city sat the Yunkai'i with their sellswords and their allies; inside were the Sons of the Harpy.

And the king's protectors grew fewer every day.

The pit fighters were King Hizdahr's only reliable support, against a sea of enemies.

And while you're thinking that through, try to think of anyone else who might have motive to falsely incriminate Hizdahr.

Hizdahr zo Loraq might be worth a careful look. Sooner him than Skahaz. The Shavepate had offered to set aside his wife for her, but the notion made her shudder. Hizdahr at least knew how to smile. - Daenerys I, ADWD

The Shavepate's eyes brimmed with fury. It had been his notion to have the Brazen Beasts follow her betrothed and take note of all his actions. - Daenerys V, ADWD

If I wed Hizdahr, will that turn Skahaz against me? She trusted Skahaz more than she trusted Hizdahr, but the Shavepate would be a disaster as a king. He was too quick to anger, too slow to forgive. She saw no gain in wedding a man as hated as herself. Hizdahr was well respected, so far as she could see. - Daenerys IV, ADWD

The Green Grace says there is blood between Loraq and Kandaq, and the Shavepate never made a secret of his disdain for my lord husband. - Daenerys VIII, ADWD

+.+.+

He could still see the air shimmering above the scarlet sands, smell the blood spilling from the men who'd died for their amusement. And he could still hear Hizdahr, urging his queen to try the honeyed locusts. Those are very tasty … sweet and hot … yet he never touched so much as one himself …

How to Not Get Away with Murder.

The Lannisters were framed for the murder of Jon Arryn. Tyrion was framed for the murder of Joffrey Baratheon.

Hizdahr did not poison the locusts. Is there a dumber POV? (Don't you dare say his name.)

+.+.+

Selmy rubbed his temple. I swore no vows to Hizdahr zo Loraq. And if I had, he has cast me aside, just as Joffrey did.

Perhaps that was why he was being put aside.

+.+.+

"This … this confectioner, I want to question him myself. Alone."

"Is it that way?" The Shavepate crossed his arms against his chest. "Done, then. Question him as you like."

"The Shavepate has ways of finding the truth."

"I do not doubt that Skahaz would soon have me confessing. A day with him, and I will be one of the Harpy's Sons. Two days, and I will be the Harpy. Three, and it will turn out I slew your father too, back in the Sunset Kingdoms when I was yet a boy. - Daenerys IV, ADWD

The Brazen Beasts had taken dozens of the Harpy's Sons, and those who had survived their capture had yielded names when questioned sharply … too many names, it seemed to her. - Daenerys V, ADWD

"If he is not the Harpy, he knows him. I can find the truth of that easy enough. Give me your leave to put Hizdahr to the question, and I will bring you a confession."

"No," she said. "I do not trust these confessions. You've brought me too many of them, all of them worthless." - Daenerys V, ADWD

+.+.+

Skahaz's smile was savage. "My word, then. No harm to Hizdahr till his guilt is proved. But when we have the proof, I mean to kill him with my own hands. I want to pull his entrails out and show them to him before I let him die."

No, the old knight thought. If Hizdahr conspired at my queen's death, I will see to him myself, but his death will be swift and clean. The gods of Westeros were far away, yet Ser Barristan Selmy paused for a moment to say a silent prayer, asking the Crone to light his way to wisdom. For the children, he told himself. For the city. For my queen.

"I will talk to Grey Worm," he said.

Great! Two people with a vendetta determining if the accused is guilty. Sounds fair.

Final thoughts:

I hate Barristan Selmy more than Tyrion.

There, I said it.

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#operation stumpy re-read #adwd #the queensguard #barristan i

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