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rorykillmore · 4 years

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posting up a birthday gift fic for @alula !!! aka i decided to ambush them by not telling them i usually do this for my friends’ birthdays until like yesterday, but it’s the same idea! this is basically just like 1000+ words of gay introspection for our one villaneve rp verse, but one time they attacked me w something they wrote re: eve trying to tell villanelle she loves her while the latter was sleeping and i guess i just filed that away in the back of my brain until i could find a way to get revenge.

anyway a few nice words: i hope you have a great birthday scully!!! and. this might sound like a very low bar bc 2020 has been awful for all of us i’m sure, but meeting you and becoming friends has genuinely ended up one of the brightest highlights of my year and i’m so glad we stumbled across each other bc we both wanted someone to yell about ke with. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

‘Feelings that can’t be put into words’ has never sounded like anything but a challenge to Villanelle. There are 6,500 different languages in the world. It stands to reason that if you can’t find the words you’re want in one of them, you just have to look somewhere else.

The problem is -- she knows the words she wants to say to Eve. She has them. They exist in all 6,500 of those languages.

She’s already said them once.

She wonders to herself, over and over: if she said them again, would they ruin everything a second time?

The textbook definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. So Villanelle tries - in every way she knows how - not to be the same person she was before. Not to make the same mistakes.

“I want to tell you something,” Villanelle murmurs, catching Eve by the hand. It’s late, and they’ve just dropped Jin Ling off at his new apartment and packed it full of food and clothes (Villanelle had wanted to make sure he had clothes) and dog toys in preparation to move him in. Eve looks as tired as Villanelle feels when she turns back towards her, but the look in her eyes is as alert and questioning as it always is when she’s giving Villanelle her attention.

I’m listening. I’m usually listening when it comes to you, Eve had told her once, and, I spent a ton of time listening to you before you even talked to me, and Villanelle had tucked all of those words away somewhere close to her heart.

They make Villanelle hesitate now, on the verge of something not for the first time.

(The first time had been the first night they’d spent together, in between the heated kisses Villanelle had trailed across her skin and in the contented quiet afterwards. Or after that, the night Eve had spent curled up in her lap after Villanelle had wiped away the tears she hadn’t quite understood in the moment.)

She deludes herself, in those few seconds in which Eve’s eyes meet her’s, that she’ll say it this time. But her throat starts to feel dry, and instead --

“I think I am starting to enjoy it.” Villanelle swallows and offers a crooked smile. “This... helping people?”

It isn’t a lie. So that’s something. It’s not the rush or the elation she remembers she used to get when she was hurting people -- it’s more like a quiet, contemplative sort of ache in her chest. She doesn’t know why she likes it. Maybe it’s the novelty of it all.

Maybe it’s the way Eve looks at her now, the way she almost seems to soften at the edges. It wasn’t what Villanelle wanted to say, but the unguarded way Eve smiles back at her and doesn’t let go of her hand, it makes Villanelle decide that maybe it was worth it anyway.

It’s not as though she doesn’t have plenty of other chances.

She and Eve see each other nearly every day now. Most mornings start with them waking up together, and most evenings end with one of them outside the other’s door (or window, when it comes to Villanelle’s preferred method of entry). Villanelle starts to wonder how well she’d sleep in an empty bed, she’s gotten so used to tucking herself against Eve’s back, slinging an arm around her waist. She wouldn’t dare call it domestic, or normal, or any of the things Villanelle knows she can’t have and would never try to force Eve into.

But it’s... them. All the heat and passion and intensity Villanelle already knows so well, but also all of the smaller things that she is still learning that somehow feel equally a part of whatever they are.

So it’s not as though the opportunities aren’t there. It’s just that it never feels like the right time.

She doesn’t want to scare Eve off or bring all their memories of Rome back into the forefront, and above all else, she doesn’t want to lie to her. Or to herself. And no matter how certain Villanelle is that she’s never felt this way about anyone else in her life, or that she wouldn’t have thrown her life as an assassin away and risked the terrifying reality of not knowing who she is for anyone but Eve, or that she might actually choose to die before ever hurting Eve again, she... can’t be sure that any of that counts as love. Because she doesn’t know what love looks like, or what it feels like, she doesn’t know if she really was wrong the last time she said it and she doesn’t know who to ask.

You don’t understand what that is.

I want to, Villanelle thinks she should have said. I’m trying. I’m sorry. I’ll find a way to make it better, just know that I’m trying.

But that hadn’t been how Rome had ended. And since then, so much has happened, and Villanelle has had to ask herself so many unpleasant questions that she once would have preferred not to ever think about at all, but...

Maybe that’s a part of it. Of trying. Because after she’d gone home to her family, to her mother, she’d almost forgotten that it was worth trying at all, and Eve had reminded her so effortlessly just by showing up here, in this strange, dreamlike alternate reality. And that has to mean something, doesn’t it? That Eve always makes her want to try?

That Eve takes her coffee black (sometimes), that she raised venus fly traps as a kid and loved a girl in college, that she had a chicken for a pet and loves cute newborn kittens and scrawny stray cats, and that she thrives on the arguments she pretends to hate, that she cares about people even when they’ve done very bad things, that she’s fighting all the time to figure herself out, to know herself, that it scares her all the time but that she does it anyway. All of that means something to Villanelle. She wants to find the words for how much she cares about every part of Eve that Eve ever lets her see, and they’re right there, Villanelle knows that, just --

She never knew that ‘knowing’ and ‘saying’ could be such complicated different things.

So what’s there to do, Villanelle decides, shying away from paralyzing nerves that don’t at all become her, except keep trying?

“I want to tell you something,” she murmurs again a few days later, this time into the place where the slope of Eve’s neck meets her shoulder, where Villanelle can hide her face. She knows that’s cheating, though, and eventually stretches out and lifts her head and props herself up on one elbow, smiling languidly down at Eve in an effort to pretend that her heart isn’t nearly beating out of her chest.

This time, it’s the morning after they’ve officially defined their... relationship. Villanelle has tried to play it cool, really - she had laughed and was appropriately incredulous when Eve had confessed she’d been texting Hanzo about them, of all people - but she’s also spent the last twelve hours (or what she’s spent of them awake and coherent and not preoccupied by Eve herself, anyway) tossing around the word girlfriend in her head like some giddy teenager.

Eve, perhaps hoping Villanelle is about to reveal a similarly embarrassing story about someone she has consulted for advice about their relationship, raises her eyebrows expectantly. “Don’t hold me in suspense.”

“I...” Villanelle falters again. Swallows. Tries to fight off an inward surge of frustration at herself, because that will definitely ruin the moment. And maybe some of it shows on her face, in her eyes, some vulnerability or fear or just how much she feels for Eve, because Eve’s bemusement softens into something more like concern.

“Villanelle --” Eve reaches up, and Villanelle feels the warmth of her hand against her cheek. She remembers the first time, what feels like so long ago back in Eve’s kitchen when this very same gesture was used to disarm. Now it feels... different, and Villanelle leans into her touch without even really thinking about it. “ -- It’s okay. You can tell me.”

Villanelle knows Eve too well not to sense her nerves. Maybe she’s already guessed what Villanelle wants to say, or maybe she hasn’t and it’s the uncertainty that’s killing her, but she waits for Villanelle anyway, tells her that it’s okay anyway, doesn’t prompt or push her or try to deflect.

And inexplicably it’s not a big fireworks moment, but this small, singular instance of selfless, uncharacteristic patience that makes Villanelle certain. Or maybe she always has been, and it’s just that she needs Eve there in front of her, both their guards dropped, for it to feel tangible.

Villanelle doesn’t know what she is or isn’t, whether her mother and the Twelve and everyone who’s ever told her what she’s supposed to be were right or wrong, but she knows that she loves Eve. If there was ever a person she was capable of shattering every expectation and defying all the odds to love, it’d be Eve. And if she can’t quite bring herself to say it yet... that doesn’t make it any less true.

She covers the hand resting against her cheek with her own and turns her head just enough to press a feather-light kiss to the inside of Eve’s palm, barely able to hide a smile when some of Eve’s quiet apprehension seems to melt. Then for good measure - and because she can’t stop herself - she leans down and kisses Eve properly, slow and somehow unhurried despite every feeling she is determined to pour into it.

And she hadn’t meant to linger, but Eve kisses her back without hesitating, and Villanelle’s always found it difficult to resist getting lost in her. So she gives in, doesn’t resist, and like always with Eve, finds there is something strangely grounding in letting herself get lost. She hopes Eve feels it too. She hopes that - for right now - it’s enough.

“I’ll tell you later,” Villanelle murmurs against her lips once she’s just barely pulled away, and tries to make it sound like a promise.

#i hardly ever write stuff with this little dialogue but whatever. hopefully it works #fic

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thliahls · 4 years

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b-b-b-back once again , cldn’t wait can’t be tamed .. as with all my intros .. tis a doozy so feel free to mssg me for a tl;dr if we feelin lazy i will totally understand , or scroll to the wc’s i tried to think of as many as possible bc i wanna plot wit every1 )): !! anyhaps like this n i will come force my heathen of a gurl on u !

⌠ GRACIE ABRAMS, 20, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, THALIA HALL! according to their records, they’re a FIRST year, specializing in AWARENESS TRAINING, BREATH CONTROL, HAND TO HAND COMBAT + THREAT ELIMINATION and they DID go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of dirt under a meticulously painted manicure, the shrill ring of her phone and poorly treated books creased at the spine. when it’s the (scorpio)’s birthday on 11/02/2000, they always request FISH FINGERS from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.

biography / pinterest

was born in the states but dad and her moved back to england the year she was born, which was also the year he graduated blackthorne. his mother was ‘never in the picture’ which has left her imagination to go down several paths, discontent with all of them. unfortunately daddy dearest crafts a space where she’d never dare ask ! she has a bit of an obsession with the blackthorne graduation ritual because of it .

was immediately placed under the care of two retired spies, sort of a foster care system within the spy community. dad still visited whenever he wasn’t working and still technically had full custody over her. up until she went to prep school, led a very sheltered life. homeschooled by them, but they were fairly lax. her dad expected a certain amount of training to be done, but her and her foster siblings usually mucked about a fair bit. her training would always be done in the form of games which she discovered early on that she loved to win, it made her fiercely competitive.

was very spoiled by them, grew up in a huge country estate and excelled in her home school classes without trying, which made her extremely entitled. she’d often wrestle with her siblings in the garden , and bring them to tears . biting them, pulling their hair, slapping them around . it would earn her a slap on the wrist , but it was never anything a sorry couldn’t fix . spends her free time laying in the grass reading , and learning the romance languages and was raised speaking cantonese bc that’s her foster parents native language . more invested in the sociology of linguistics and how it can be used to assert and diminish power but only cares for this in a self-serving way .

spy prep rolls around and it’s very exciting ! as predicted ( by herself lmao ) she does well, without even having to try. socially , she drifts through groups , picking up on cues on how to interact , what works well and what doesn’t . doesn’t find anyone particularly interesting and would much rather be reading but by not having any sort of allegiance to one particular group , it ends with her being very well-liked . the top marks is unsurprising, further fuelled by some amusing competition , finding that her desire to earn good grades comes more from wanting to spite others than actually wanting to achieve good grades . finals roll around and she gets the highest grade in her year and in tandem with being well liked, earns her place as valedictorian . she’s very proud of herself, not for earning valedictorian, but for besting aylin .

in the months prior , on a field trip she meets a boy and for the first time in ever , exudes big dumb energy gets his number , starts texting him , starts sneaking off campus to meet him ... he’s a total casanova , a big romantic and exactly like the protags in the romance novels she reads . it’s a big prep school no-no but as long as no one finds out it’s fine ! then walks in aylin, and destroys her whole career by reporting her ( she doesn’t know for sure it was her , but has her suspicions since their rivalry had run throughout the entirety of prep school ). she’s kicked out , denied graduation , valedictorian and is humiliated . she calls her civilian boyfriend the night of , but his line’s already been disconnected , presumably threatened / beat up by her lovely dad .

her father is livid , but is able to use his connections to get her a place at another , less prestigious prep school and negotiates with the school to take her to and fro every day , like he’s picking her up from daycare . he stops working for a full year to do this , and expects her to feel indebted to him . the monotony of repeating the year makes her irritable, made worse by the snickers she constantly hears in the hallways . but she has gallagher to look forward to , knowing she’ll still be going there because continuing tradition is important to her father , who also decided her majors for her and had a big argument with him when she asked if she could take linguistics ! he makes her call him every single night at 6p.m. if she misses a call , he contacts the school . she hates him .

personality

passive aggressive emphasis on the aggressive : is always withholding judgement, but inevitably always lets a comment slip. think, ‘ you’re so confident to wear whatever you want to, ’ or, ‘ wow ! that colour’s so bright i almost need sunglasses ! ’ petty as hell in all respects physically too , spots a bruise on your arm ? you bet she’s gonna press it and ask if that hurts, then say sorry when you yelp .

hypocritical : detests people who don’t try but doesn’t try herself and justifies it by getting really good grades . believes there’s no point sleeping with someone unless you love them , then will drunkenly hook up with someone that very same night .

hope less romantic : she has no hope for others but remains a romantic . thinks people have given up on courting people and wooing them . expects flowers at her door , good morning texts and candlelit dinners . leaves secret admirer notes under people's door to people she thinks are cute and thinks she might have a crush on in the future , quite creepy but at least she doesn't use magazine clippings anymore !

spiteful : life is a game and she wants to win it ! makes everything into a competition , even unconsciously . goes up to the adjacent treadmill and makes the speed and incline several points higher than the person next to her . painting your nails with her ? she’ll make sure hers looks better and point out that you didn’t coat the ends of your nails . board game night with her is fun for no one but her , i’m so sorry if she ever ropes you into one !

bookworm : her disgustingly high standards about love come from her singular past relationships and books . read one too many jane austen’s and now she’s crazy

loyal : her loyalty is hard to earn , but once you’ve got it , you’ve got it .

*think the arrogant exterior of jesse eisenberg as zucc in the social network with emaline addario ( everything sucks ) type dramatics every so often to keep it spicy !

wanted connections

toxic friendship ! a slow burn relationship of passive-aggressiveness and co-dependency, one day they stop taking her shit or say they’re going to but always end up in each other’s company at the end of the day . or maybe one day they don’t come back to her and thalia is forced to admit she may have been too harsh .

hook-ups she has when drunk ! which she will only have when drunk , to follow her unspecified , no rights , belief system . will pretend like she does not know you the next day . oh to be a romantic , but a scorpio . a tough life .

people she has crushes on ! and leaves handwritten poetry under their door or in their notebooks , absolutely humiliating that she acts this way ! bonus points for a note that’s left under the door and the wrong person reads it .

sparring buddies but make it feral ! no rules sorta deal, out in the woods, scratches from twigs, bloodied rocks, anything to let some of her pent up aggression out . they can go swimming after : )

daddy issues gang ! someone hears her on the phone in the hallway , inquires , proceeds to talk about how much they hate their fathers . thalia tells them how she’s going to kill him one day <3 alternatively , her father may have been the cause or implicated in the death of your chara’s loved one .

roommates ! self-explanatory , but she probably dislikes them and is unfairly harsh on them . sets rules but lets herself be exempt from them stuff like that x also for berlin she requested a room by herself lmao n deluded herself into thinking she wld be accommodated , thus i’m going to leave whoever she rooms with up to fate and she will hate it regardless of whoever she gets roomed with !

someone who hates aylin as much as she does ! yes this is deserving of a whole connection , thalia would probably die for this person . alternatively , aylin’s friends who she hates as a byproduct of hating aylin or tries to get them to hate aylin .

rivals ! because it’s the only thing that motivates her to do well in school .

encryption major ! who helps her find out about her dad’s past , and present . what he’s done and what he continues to do . also a way for her to maybe switch one of her majors to linguistics and hacking a report that says she’s still in her predetermined majors .

take a chill pill ! someone who gets her to relax , makes her watch reality television which she relentlessly criticizes , but this person won’t give up trying to make her less of an awful human bean .

anything else ! i am , as the kids say , down to clown .

#gallagher:intro #im .. Shweaty so im gna take a shower but i shall msg as i soon as im squeeky clean #omg i always 4get my theme just doesn't format nything i promis it looks nicer in dashboard mode owo

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bellamygateoldblog · 4 years

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rate best to worst parental figures of the 100

worst → best (I tend to ramble throughout this, sorry!)

19 — Nia : I mean I don’t think an explanation is needed here lol. She burned Echo’s parents alive, it’s implied she then renamed her Ash, before forcing her into the identity of another child and filling her life with assassination and espionage. Mother Of The Year?

18 — Aurora : so firstly we have Octavia- who’s existence shouldn’t be. It was so incredibly irresponsible and selfish to subject her child to this life. If the ark hadn’t been dying and Octavia never caught, would she had been expected to grow old and die under the floor? Would Bellamy have spent his life, even after Aurora was long dead, being nothing more than his sister’s keeper?

And Bellamy- to manipulate your six year old son into believing it’s his responsbility to protect and care for his sister, so engrained into his mind and sense of self that he still lives by this mantra well into his 20s, to treat Bellamy being Octavia’s whole world as normal, having him go through his life with this small girl attached to him, entirely dependent on him, placing such a heavy weight onto a child- it’s UGH. No words, just a grunt.

He gave up his education and his personal life and he became a father when he was six years old. She took his life away.

This early family dynamic is at the root of ALL of Octavia and Bellamy’s major character traits, struggles and flaws, it drives them still, it’s effects are still felt and reinforced. BOO.

17 — Raven’s unnamed mother : And here is where I go off on a rant criticising the writing more than the actual mother. Just like Octavia, Raven was raised by another child, except in this case her mother is emotionally absent and said child is the same age as her (or younger) and thus i expect their experience and maturity levels are matched through their lives. Could this have bourne some co-dependency? Perhaps, but it’s never talked about i think because Raven’s backstory is practically a Schrödinger’s cat scenario with all the retconning that goes on. Like here- we recieved some more information in season six that directly contradicts what was already established of their mother-daughter relationship: “she never used me.”

*deadpan narrator voice* She did, however, use her.

That’s if we choose to accept this one as canon and not that one, god this writing is atrocious. Raven’s mother was neglectful, so much so that the only way she ate is through a boy sharing his own rations with her. Raven believes “she only had [her] so she could trade [Raven’s] rations for moonshine.” SHE DID USE HER DAUGHTER.

Furthermore, in season one she defended her mother (context: when a remark was made about selling sex in exchange for supplies), she tells her not to “dare talk about [her] mother that way” and i get the impression she at least respected her, but in season six she straight up calls her “a drunk who sold herself for booze.” In fact in season six she goes from being deluded one second- “she never used me”- to being scarily desensitised by a harsh reality the next, the same way she was in early seasons, speaking casually of her mother’s alcoholism. WHAT IS THE TRUTH? None of what we know of Raven’s family and backstory can coexist and yet here we are, talking about Raven’s family and backstory as if the writers ever cared enough to make it actually coherent.

16 — Murphy’s unnamed mother : did love him once, very much so, but let her grief poison her and turn her against her son. Another alcoholic/addict mother to add to the collection. We don’t have a lot of details about her, but the knowledge that she blamed her vulnerable little boy who had no control over his own health for the death of her husband who made his own conscious choice is enough for me to place her down here. The source of Murphy’s lack of self worth, *implied* intrusive thoughts, and difficulty connecting with others, and just in general sometimes being a total jackass. Yeah, it’s all her fault.

15 — Clarke : like mother, like daughter. She electrocuted her child, but what I find to be remarkably horrific about this is the simple fact the device is the same one used to torture her in the beginning of the season, the same one used by the so-called ‘villains’. She felt and endured the pain herself, and then decided subjecting her own daughter to that same treatment was an acceptable and necessary choice- before leaving that decision completely redundant later by switching allegiance and having Madi lead the army afterall. Madi was dependent on Clarke, the silent agreement is trust and respect, and this one singular action showed Clarke violating everything it means to be a guardian and protector. Also, she never apologised to Madi for this, nor did their relationship experience strain as a result when both of those things absolutely should’ve happened. That’s my main gripe with the relationship, the other being that it’s bourne of the same strain of co-dependancy as the Blakes.

Something about Madi wanting to go to school and be a regular child and Clarke responding to that with an ultimatum doesn’t sit right with me. At this point nobody cares about the Commander. Nobody- literally every single grounder is asleep- and, as her mother, Clarke has the right and the power to have Madi take out that damn flame to preserve her safety and youth and she doesn’t. She continues to let Gaia train her 12 year old for a dead position. Clarke is just as much culpable for the Sheidheda fiasco as Spacekru are for putting the flame into Madi’s head in the first place. That thing should’ve been removed as soon as it was no longer necessary. Clarke’s young, she had a child practically sprung upon her, and i want to give her the benefit of the doubt- but I won’t.

14 — Abby : I had no idea where to put Abby on this list and I think i’m being too generous but she’s a tricky one because I don’t think she’s necessarily a bad mother, not compared to the others on this list anyway, but the harsher aspects of her personality along with the high-stakes environment leads to the natural break down of her relationship with her daughter. I got the impression they were once close; Clarke is seen reaching out for her mother for comfort and validation multiple times during the first couple of seasons and she’s devastated and betrayed at the knowledge of what was Abby’s culpability in Jake’s death. Over time this falls apart. Abby never harms her biological daughter, but does have a very weird rival-like relationship with her, imo this being because they’re so similar. I can see so much Abby in Clarke and vice-versa. And they clash because of it, and Abby just doesn’t have any authority over Clarke, and over time their relationship distances to a point it lacks emotional value and other characteristics that make mother-daughter dynamics unique and meaningful. They love each other, no doubt about that, Abby’s been prepared to throw others to the wolves for her daughter a few times, just as Clarke does later in life. But the relationship between Abby and her daughter is strained from the beginning of the series, which makes her position as Clarke’s mother complicated.

Upon meeting Abby, Raven instantly viewed her through an almost idolistic lens- “relax, it’s a compliment, Abby’s a badass”- making me believe she latched onto this idea of The Mother She Never Had, and Abby’s first thoughts when encountering Raven were literally that she reminded her of her own daughter- “reminds me of someone.” This dynamic is absolutely intended as mother-daughter. While a mother-figure to Raven, though, Abby has directly and intentionally caused her harm. She’s electrocuted her, she;s then tried to avoid acknowledging her wrongness for that action- Raven in this moment of torture is as betrayed as Madi was by Clarke- she’s also hit her and while in a systematically higher position than her no less. These instances automatically make me wince away from the relationship because in no way does it come across as comfortable and safe for Raven. On the other hand, they’ve had a bunch of heartfelt moments even though they’re disguised as harsh jabs taken at one another. They’ve expressed the hard truth when nobody else will in times of the other’s vulnerability.

There is a stark contrast though between how she treats Clarke and how she treats Raven and the lack of biological relation, i think, is a buffer for Abby. IMHO i think her care for Raven is conditional, but unconditional for Clarke.

I don’t know what i should be feeling about her motherly-ness.

13 — Kane : I didn’t pay much attention to Kane’s dynamics, honestly, because I just didn’t like him, but as far as I’m aware he tried to do well by Octavia, Bellamy and Clarke, somewhat self-righteously and blaming, but trying is trying and he is always framed as in the right and morally superior so I guess that’s gotta count for something. This was all ruined during season five, though, with him attempting to have every one of them killed among other things. He didn’t appear concerned or reluctant- or anything about any of them.

12 — Hannah : I think it’s safe to assume Monty had a good relationship with both of his parents pre-show. Hannah came across as misguided and manipulative towards Monty often, though, which i think came from both a place of love and desire to protect, but also, at points of most controlling, from a place of desperation and fear having already lost her husband. Honestly all I remember is not liking her very much so i’m placing her here in the middle/neutral area with Indra and Jaha.

11 — Indra : I place her here because we don’t actually have a lot of information about her relationship with Gaia. And I view her relationship with Octavia as mentor-mentee and eventually friends. They’ve had some sweet heart-to-heart moments, but i’ve always struggled to see the maternal connection. Octavia might be the daughter Gaia never was to Indra (I think Gaia might’ve even said this in the actual show?) but such a fond and pronounced memory of Aurora still exists within Octavia and with her very narrow-minded vision I don’t see her prepared to replace her or at the very least share that position with other people in her life. Indra is a stoic character, but it’s almost as if her emotional expression is reserved for Octavia. This speaks something of the closeness of their bond, but also tells us the climate between her and Gaia is more distant and troubled. There’s love there though- she was, afterall, planning to die so Gaia could live. Is this the only intended motherly sacrifice we’ve seen on the show?

The Blodreina of it all, while on one hand strengthened one dynamic, shattered the other. Indra is someone Octavia respected, trusted and listened to. I have to believe she was in the position to guide and advice her through the entireity of the time jump, but instead we saw her stand by and let Octavia slip further and further into her own darkness before turning on her in the most critical moment. And she might’ve tried and nothing worked, but really? You want me to try to make sense of this myself? The writers were on a quest to villainise Octavia and the fall of this relationship was a product rather than an intention.

10 — Jaha : he created a treasure, i’ll give him that. Admittedly we don’t know an awful lot about Wells or about his relationship with his father, but we do know he risked his own life to take care of Clarke, similar to Bellamy and to Raven who both also came to Earth to protect someone they loved. Both of those examples had terrible parents, so Wells’ goodness doesn’t necessarily mean we can credit Jaha, and as far as i can remember Wells never actually defended his father against the angry delinquents. Does him choosing to follow Clarke over staying with his father in space mean he must really love Clarke, or could it ellude to a certain father-son relationship not being as comfortable as it could be? When Jaha’s handed another child later on, he stops Kane giving him extra food because of something along the lines of: ‘he needs to learn the world’ so I think his parenting style may be more of the tough love and respect type. Wells is practical and strives to maintain order and squash rebelliousness thus his butting heads with the rest of the delinquents, but he has people’s best interests at heart (letting Clarke hate him rather than Abby, for example) and those are very Jaha characteristics i can see he inherited/observed and imitated.

9 — Monty and Harper : we only have a handful of information on this. Jordan has fond memories of them, but so does Octavia and Bellamy about their mother and we all know the truth about that one. Jordan is a backwards Octavia. Monty and Harper were all he had growing up, he wasn’t forced into hiding, but I can’t imagine it was a fun existence for him to grow up in isolation- watching the faces of other children behind the glass and never being able to wake them up to play. BUT his childhood is different to Octavia’s in a few ways that make a big difference and land them further up the list: 1) he’s clearly educated, 2) he has two loving parents even if they are all he has, 3) he has knowledge about the Earth, it’s story and the people from it so has a much stronger and more complex understanding of morality, meaning he’s less judgemental, and he’s also better prepared to interact with others by the time this oppurtunity arises.

They get points for leaving him in Bellamy’s hands, but are automatically relegated a few places for making Clarke his god mother.

8 — Bellamy : yes Bellamy is on this list because yes he is Octavia’s father and nothing you say matters. So every child he’s ever ‘adopted’ has died, but he tries his best to think of these children when nobody else was ever doing that. Octavia’s damaged and her more toxic traits have a tendancy to become amplified in times of high emotion, especially in the vicinity of her brother, but he was just as much a victim in all of this as she was and Aurora is entirely to blame for the disaster that is the Blake sibling relationship (I mean neither of them even had a frame of reference of what siblings look like, how were they to know how to relate to one another?).

He tries. He’s more equipped to and committed than most on this show to helping vulnerable people, he’s proven time and time again he’s willing to do whatever it takes to protect and love his sister, he gets it wrong sometimes, his efforts can be misguided and recieved differently than he might’ve intended them to be. But the facts are: he understands what it means to be a parent, he knows what it’s like to lose their child, he knows what it’s like to pour himself into someone else and hope for the best of them.

7 — Luna : she founded a clan and those people were, in a sense, her children. She kept them safe for years, it was peaceful, life was simple and fulfilling. Clarke observed her interactions with the actual children that lived there and they loved her, she was good with them. Her people respected her.

6 — Monty’s father : yet another heroic father to add to this fucking collectio-

5 — Ginger dad : in one of the most heartbreaking scenes on this show to date, he does the David Miller thing, or i guess David Miller does The Ginger Dad Thing, and sacrifices his own life to pump more air into his child’s lungs.

4 — Murphy’s unnamed father : in a place you’ll be executed for petty crime, risking it all and stealing something as valuable as medicine just to give your son a chance at more life is commendable. He loved his son (literally) to death. It’s his memory and his sacrifice, like with Raven and Clarke, that pushes him to survive.

3 — Jake : I think the show has demonstrated quite nicely that Clarke is a daddy’s girl. Jake The Good Engineer, Jake The Good Father, Jake The Hero. He inspires Clarke so much she goes to prison for it. And, like Sinclair-Raven, Clarke’s consciousness dreams him up whenever she’s in an intensely stressful situation and/or feeling hopeless about life and void of direction in general. This was a comfortable and secure bond, and his death marked the beginnings of Clarke’s entire story.

2 — David : easily one of the best fathers on the show, i mean he gave up the oppurtunity of claiming a spot in the bunker just so he could give his son better odds of surviving, he gave up the possibility of being in the bunker with his son. Another fatherly sacrifice for the collection. He loves Miller unconditionally, even when Miller himself feels like a disappointment.

1 — Sinclair : this was an obvious retcon, but still good as long as I don’t think about it. A cute father-figure, the mentor that took a chance on her, the first (or second) person to pick her. Everything about this relationship is sweet and healthy, a nice diversion from the usually exhaustingly complex dynamics. Their relationship was so meaningful, in fact, that it was him who Raven’s dying mind manifested to encourage her to go on living. 10/10.

(and don’t think i don’t peep that bad/cruel mothers, good/heroic fathers pattern here. These writers WACK…)

#the 100 #rosie tag: share with the group #the 100: we ask we answer

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fictionalcharactermbti · 5 years

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The Haunting of Hill House MBTI

Steven Crain [INTP] : Steven Crain is a skeptic who doesn’t trust his own perceptions. There is always a logical explanation to what is happening around him and at times he can pull patterns out of nowhere in order to back his conclusions. His tertiary Si makes him stubborn trying to find anything tangible to support his assumptions. He has a hard time truly embracing his secondary function of Ne in order to see the real patterns of the unexplained in his life. He is filled not just with doubt of his family and the supernatural, but he is buried in his own self doubt. The more he digs his heals in his Si rather than Ne, the more he avoids is social obligations to his wife and his family. His fear of his inferior Fe, these social obligations, is the drive that he utilizes to isolate himself and others in his life.

Luke Crain [ISFP] : Luke is not one to start with doubt. He takes life as it comes. He has no need for any form of control in his life. He puts a lot on what feels good and what doesn’t. Fi makes judgments based on relationships to experiences and his secondary is Se which is so in the moment. His ability to be present and aware is what make him so open to the hauntings and not quick to dismiss them as fake. However, when driven mad by them he is impulsive and looks for an escape. Being so present and open isn’t always great in situations like being haunted. At the end of the day he is a caring man. He really just wants to help and support the people he is closest to. He isn’t one to judge others on their pasts but what they do in the moment. This moment is what defines them. It makes him to gentle and open-hearted.

Nell Crain [INFP] : Unsurprisingly, she is similar in her functions to her twin brother. Her Ne leads her to search more for meaning and underlying patterns. She is more open to future possibilities rather than being in the moment. And when this leads to her being haunted, the word possibilities doesn’t hold it’s same optimistic charm that it used to. When a type can see many possibilities and finds themselves in a mentally dark place, they only see the many negative possibilities. This leads to her spin out and separate herself from others. She recedes into herself, afraid that no one will understand what she is going through.

Theodora Crain [INFJ] : Theodora often tries to hide--literally with gloves and metaphorically with impulsive behavior--her deep introverted well of thoughts of Ni dominance. We see more of her true self when she is younger. She takes everything in, trying to make sense of it all in a singular narrative. She often has gut feelings about things without knowing why. This is often because she is making subconscious connections of her own observations. The show takes Ni further as many often do, of surrounding this type of function with the power of clairvoyance. Theodora uses both her power and dominant function to understand and help people. This is that secondary Fe. She craves harmony with this around her, but her analytical and Ti tertiary skeptical mind doesn’t have time for hypocrisy and lies to achieve harmony. This is often why she butts heads with her siblings, especially Shirley, because she doesn’t have time for the lies.

Shirley Crain [ESTJ] : She may just be the most stubborn character in this show. This comes from an unhealthy overuse of her dominant function. As an ESTJ you have to objectively prove any odd idea in order for her to believe you. Anything out of her objective standards is not good and should be dealt with. Because she doesn’t handle her functions well, she is extremely black and white. She knows what should be done and doesn’t understand why people won’t listen to her to tell them so. As a thinking type she cares for the order, not the feelings, in situations. Your obligations come first, your feelings later if ever. She leaves her in her own “split personality” as we see when we discover her hypocrisy in having an affair, while she is so ready to wield her judgement on others. This comes from her inferior Fi, as she is unwilling to reflect on herself and her own feelings. The more she tells others and the world what to do, the more she feels she makes up for her own transgression.

Hugh Crain [ISFJ] : His dominant Si makes it hard for him to have a leap of fatith in the supernatural. It takes his own experiences in order to feel the truth of the haunting. At the end of the day he cares deeply for his family and is always willing to sacrifice himself and his own personal happiness to help them. He doesn’t push what really happened on his kids for fear of disharmony. Which, given where the family is at seems moot to many, but to him he wanted them to have normal lives. Not until it leads to catastrophe with Nell, does he come out and show his support in way they may understand. He isn’t one for big gestures or speeches. You see his love in his small acts of kindness.

Olivia Crain [ENFJ] : Olivia has dominant Fe with secondary Ni. This leads her not only to care for people, especially her family, but he way of helping others is in the form of guidance. She loves to help her children find their places in the world. She often is there with consoling words. Whether it is helping Theodora embrace her power or helping Luke enjoy his adventurous spirit. She is great as seeing the strengths in others and enjoys helping them all. This is taken to the point of disaster as this mentality is manipulated in the house. She gets deluded into thinking that the only way to help Luke and Nell is through killing them to be happy as children forever in the house rather than have them grow up into their doomed fates.

#the haunting of hill house #mbti #steven crain #theodora crain #nell crain #luke crain #shirley crain #hugh crain #olivia crain #intp #infj #infp #isfp #estj #isfj #enfj

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rimeshard · 5 years

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spotify explanations.

each one of the songs added to the spotify list on my homepage is in reference to an event, character or interaction that Riley has been through or dealt with, whether positive or negative. as a writing exercise, i decided to work out what each of these songs means in context for her character and her development.

Emiley’s Smile - Commix

This is a general purpose ‘ethereal’ floating song for Riley. I think it fits a young Quel'dorei very well, especially one who transitions from up periods (the higher synths) to darker periods (the low bass intonation).

Chrome - VNV Nation

Hurt, the measure of blind ambition The testament to your singular disease Against all wisdom you heed no warning Your desires giving you away

A perfect song for a post-resurrection Riley who was hell-bent on destroying those who had wronged and murdered her, along with her distaste for the Forsaken who still follow a murderous Warchief, and the Alliance who still follow the whims of a boy-king.

Better Love - Nookie

Another general purpose ‘vibing’ song, used to maintain a chilled, distanced, lounge demeanor that Riley tries to keep with her customers. Yes, breather. Keep calm. Consider the purchase of the haunted Jinyu pearl necklace. This one will not harm you. We are indifferent to your purchase. Other buyers will come otherwise.

In Space - Röyksopp

Here’s where we start getting into real character development. “In Space” is in reference to the many memories that float through Riley’s mind at any given moment either pre- or post-resurrection. She had a very timid personality when I first began playing her, as an arcanist’s assistant and protégé. Over the years Riley developed into a stand-alone character, able to hold her own despite battling deep-seeded fears and longing for her mentor. “In Space” in general is a 'harmless’ song, mainly evoking happy memories or drawing on pleasant dreams to function.

Dawn Chorus - Boards of Canada

Most, if not a majority, of Riley’s development centered around her mentor, Taldarick Reynolds. Taldarick was a survivor of the Azure wars; he had sided with the Azure Dragonflight and Malygos against the Blues and the Dalaran magi. In doing so, he killed his own brother, who was sent to retrieve/recover him. Taldarick then spent a session in the Violet Hold on his capture, and was released. He spent every waking moment following this developing a bastardization of chronomancy and necromancy in an attempt to resurrect his brother, beholden and bereft by the guilt of his murder. “Dawn Chorus” is the discordant musical equivalent of being inside that Machine; a vividly disgusting and perturbing sensory deprivation and immersion tank, all at once, during stages of being incomplete. At one point in exquisite detail did Taldarick’s RPer describe a 'tree made entirely of meat’.

Tears from the Compound Eye - Boards of Canada

Riley spent many nights comforting and working with Taldarick during his exploratory phases to work on his Machine. In doing so, and during his lessons, they bonded; however, their shared, mutual and different traumas would not let them reciprocate their feelings for each other. “Compound Eye” sounds, to me, like a forlorn hand reaching across a chasm - with a small uplift near the center for what may be a hopeful release or even a return of emotion; only to have it lapse back onward and into silence, knowing it won’t come to pass.

Infotain Me - Ochre

A song explicitly describing the back and forth between Riley and her adopted daughter, Nicolette. The two have a springy, childish wordplay between each other, but despite the edifying violins, it also carries an undercurrent of misery; Riley knowing that Nico is diving into Necromancy despite her displeasure, and Nico knowing that Riley has been raised into undeath.

Space Cowboy - Saib

A jaunty song that encapsulates the spirited relationship between Wey-chung Brokenarrow and Riley; both before and after her resurrection. Wey met Riley roughly around the same time that she set up her meeting with Taldarick, and was initially suspicious of the Quel'dorei; however, shared bonds through adventures together and camaraderie through allies has cemented a powerful relationship, wherein Riley chastises Wey for his penchant for flirtatious behavior, while Wey keeps Riley beveled with her obsession over Taldarick (before her death) and her willingness to find a purpose in life while unliving (in death).

Weird Science - Oingo Boingo

from my heart and from my hand why don’t people understand my intentions

Easily the most recognizable song on this list, “Weird Science” is less for Riley and more for Taldarick outright, it having been his RPer’s song of choice for his character. The lyrics fit him perfectly; people do not understand the arcanist’s often odd behavior, his demeanor or even his appearance.

Kyoto - aso. [ original sample is from “Love at 20” (二十歳の恋) by Lamp ]

anata ga sukidesu

Absolutely hands-down used as the 'romance’ song for Riley and Taldarick. This song was playing initially when Taldarick requested that Riley pick up adoption papers for Nicolette, when he asked her to move in with him, and when he finally confessed that he 'cared for her’. This mellow, inviting, warm and cozy song is on a loop just enough to serve as a backing track for their playful banter and their romantic inclinations - like how Taldarick admitted to Riley that he had slept for an entire night for the first time since his release from the Hold when sharing a bed with the Quel'dorei, and that possibly - a life of self-flagellating vengeance wasn’t quite as desirable when compared to one with Riley and their new daughter.

LOYALTY. FEAT. RIHANNA. - Kendrick Lamar, Rihanna

It’s a secret society

All we ask is trust (all we ask is trust)

All we got is us

Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty

I warned you that Taldarick played a huge role in Riley’s development. “LOYALTY.” is massive for these two for both views the featured artists present. Kendrick’s lyrics encompass finding someone, finally, that he can have faith in; both he and Rihanna question who is really worth that amount of loyalty, and what loyalty means - are they going to be there for you when things hit rock bottom? The chorus alludes to both artists indicating something’s wrong, and that either one of the pair aren’t as loyal as they claim to be. Would Taldarick and Riley ever really hit that 'rock bottom’?

Jealous (I Ain’t With It) - Chromeo

I get strung up from [his] loving

I wish [he] cared to see

But [he] only cares when [he’s] so inclined

And I fret so much about [his] loving

I wish [he’d] let me be

But [his] destiny got us so intertwined

Not necessarily rock bottom, no. But Taldarick’s flightiness, tendency to flirt with other women and his general tendency to drop Riley at the drop of a hat due to survivor’s guilt and refusal to admit his reciprocation early on spurred Riley on to drinking copious amounts of Kungaloosh, much to Wey’s dismay.

Gentle Breeze - Saib

In between this, I allowed Riley to relax somewhat after picking her up from a brief hiatus. She was allowed to spend time ruminating on her place in the world and a life without Taldarick; her daughter was safely enrolled in a Dalaran academy to further her own half-elf lineage for magic, and Riley herself was assigned from a Dalaran guard status to front-lines Legionfall guard, putting out fel fires on the beaches with her talents for summoning large amounts of blueberry-flavored slushes. This is also where she was tasked with taking care of the first incarnation of Alectryo, the Divination Chicken, so this song can count for his initial appearance, as well.

Die for You - The Weeknd

I’m scared that I’ll miss you

Happens every time

I don’t want this feelin’

I can’t afford love

I try to find reason to pull us apart

It ain’t workin’ 'cause you’re perfect

And I know that you’re worth it

Now we’re getting into one of the most miserable states of Riley’s development. Our OOC schedules had begun to wind up and Taldarick’s RPer could no longer commit time to Warcraft in between his own growing schedule, and often Taldarick would be ICly sent to foreign Legion planets on Kirin Tor order for investigation. Often he wouldn’t come back for days, weeks, or even months. And often Riley would be found at the same Stormwind park planter in which they would usually be found, faithfully awaiting his return. Her friends and Highguard members would have nothing but concern for her and the wily arcanist, but often found her inconsolable until he returned.

It was during one of these mission returns that Taldarick came back - not quite himself. His blinded eyes had been replaced with strange demonic implants of his own 'harvest’ (previously Taldarick had become physically blinded, and relied on Riley to be his 'seeing eye elf’ when divination did not suffice) and he refused to answer questions about where he was, what he was up to and whether or not he was coming home like he’d promised. He erratically vanished from Stormwind and was never heard from again, despite Riley’s attempts to track him down through the Kirin Tor’s files and his operatives in the Hall of the Guardian.

“Die For You” is from Taldarick’s point of view; expressing his miserable state in struggling to let Riley go, but knowing it was what was best for both of them.

Only - Nine Inch Nails

Yes I am alone

But then again I always was

As far back as I can tell

I think maybe it’s because

Because you were never really real

To begin with

After Taldarick’s final departure, Riley spent several erratic months still deluding herself into awaiting his return. She was in denial that there was a possibility that he wasn’t coming back - or didn’t want to come back, and would violently snap at anyone who suggested such. Riley began to question herself, and her adoption of her daughter - her position in the Highguard - her own abilities in the arcane.

Since I Left You - The Avalanches

Riley was, eventually, finally allowed to move on from Taldarick, having mostly given up on ever seeing him again - and in freeing herself, this song encompasses the first breath of an unrestricted, free-from-obsession headspace. While still a jumble of plunderphonics noise, “Since I Left You” carries a tone of hope and moving forward for the first time on her own.

The Orb of Dreamers - The Daniel Pemberton TV Orchestra

Dreams. Fantasies. Ideas.

Where do they go when life brings you tumbling back to the now?

While this song is infinitely popular as an opening for Little Big Planet, it also serves as a dreamy, very infatuated melody. Think back to the butterflies you may get in your stomach when envisioning that special someone, or the typical 'pink anime haze cloud’ that shrouds an object of affection when looking at them for the first time, and that’s the general feeling of this song for Riley, for both Taldarick and a former RP partner; more on them below.

With.You -Jinsang

A song that finally applies to a love interest outside of Taldarick. Mellow and alternatively inviting, “With.You” is very fitting for a former RP partner of mine; the initial patient hammer thwacks in the background are reminiscent of his character’s penchant for blacksmithing.

This character’s relationship with Riley was healthy at first, but ended up being demoralizing both IC and OOC; they had met when she was alive, and he assisted her in joining the Blade in her undeath - she became subservient to him, much in the way that Riley was with Taldarick - but unlike 'fun’ apprentice/teacher RP with Taldarick, who was a more comedic and flexible writer, this partner was very stoic and solid, which turned Riley into a stoic and solid character.

Serenade - Esbe

Much like With.You, Serenade is in reference to this previous RP partner’s relationship with Riley, specifically after her death. It gives off a very melancholic performance of echoed samples and the same deadened electronic drum beat, guiding you through the steps in a mechanical fashion. The backing track constantly feels like it’s slipping through your fingers, much like the fading memories Riley lost upon her death.

Low Grav Freefall - Ochre

Another Ochre song to use with Nicolette, but it fits her and Riley’s dynamic so well that I can’t help but to use it. This song alludes in terms of Nico’s first face to face meeting with her mother after Riley’s death, hiatus in Acherus, and return to Stormwind, and Nico’s unwillingness to deal with the loss of yet another set of parents - despite Riley being 'there’, she isn’t, really. The grief and steeled resolve of keeping a mask of indifference really shines through at the 1:05 mark, masking the initial saddened synth that remains present throughout the song. It keeps the same somber tune in its nearly seven minute runtime - however, at about six minutes in, the angry, resentful synths fade away, and Nico begins to accept that this is still her mother - that she still loves Riley, even though this is what she has become. It ends on an oddly discordant, buoyant note.

Dayvan Cowboy - Boards of Canada

Last Boards of Canada song, I promise. Maybe.

This song is an odd choice for this one, but, I like to attribute it to Riley’s death and then her subsequent raising into a banshee by the necromancer she was attempting to impersonate. It’s a rough, slipshod, discordant and scratchy mess at first - I liken it to being completely underwater and having your ears be filled up with water to where you can’t hear anything but the rush of your own heartbeat; the shakes of a tambourine are a good count for this. Riley was stabbed multiple times and allowed to bleed out, feeling at ease and at rest due to her mission being completed - she was able to save five people’s lives at the cost of her own. In this way she felt like it was worth it; that she wasn’t just a coward hiding behind Taldarick, or the other elves; that she had made something of herself, and proven herself a hero. It was okay to let go.

And then 2:07 kicks in, and without warning she’s pulled back into her body. This horrible, frightening, ice-cold sensation of her soul being lashed from the Shadowlands and forced, wailing and screaming, back into her own corpse. Eventually (2:40) she learns to get it under control - but there’s still this aura of miserable existence, with the resentful strums of the guitar. The song, much like most Boards of Canada songs, trails out on an unknown note, giving credence to Riley not knowing what to do with herself yet.

Everyone Looks Like Everyone - The Pack a.d.

If you think this is your story

Just cause you got in the way

Doesn’t mean it’s your story

You just got in the way

A simple brawling song. That’s all. They aren’t all deep, but they are all bangers. Enjoy a lovely Letterkenny reference. That’s a Texas-sized 10-4.

Fashionable People - Joel Plaskett Emergency

The dancers need a dancefloor,

The swingers gotta swing,

Fashionable people doing questionable things

A song I like to attribute to Wey-chung and Riley just hanging out; despite the content of the lyrics implying the singer would like to hook up with the object of his affection, due to the context of the song used in the show Letterkenny, the melody of “Fashionable People”, to me, is that of two familiar people having a good time together at somewhere they don’t normally belong - and that’s those two’s friendship to a T.

Stage 12: Mystic Mansion - SEGA SOUND TEAM

As a recovering Sonic the Hedgehog fan and deviantART user, I can’t not have a reference to a Sonic song in a fan track list. It’s against the law. I don’t make the rules, sorry. Enjoy your expected, obligatory and obvious 'Riley is a spooky vendor, working for the Ebon Blade, sourcing curios and bartering haunted goods with the breathers’ track.

Sorry for Not Answering the Phone I'm Too Busy Trying to Fly Away - In Love With a Ghost

The rocking back and forth sounds of a soothing piano and synth combined with repetitive clicking of odd instruments, to me, sounds like the moving of a caravan of supplies, and the soothing chorus of those who have come before her. "Sorry for Not Answering" applies to Riley's scant time spent thus far with Remington Thornbolt and the Fence Macabre, a group of Forsaken who have all suffered what she has, and welcome her with open arms to vendor, travel and adventure alongside them.

This Machine: Theme of Team Dark - Julien-K

A shadow of myself, just who am I?

Scan horizons

A tragic mystery

…. as a recovering Sonic the Hedgehog fan, I can’t not have two references to Sonic songs in a fan track list. “This Machine” is a giant meme, has been for decades, and is angst personified without dipping too much into the “Shadow the Hedgehog (2005)” video game soundtrack. We don’t go down that road.

Un musicien parmi tant d’autres - Harmonium

À la porte d'un café [ At the door of a café ]

Les noms ne font que changer [ The names only change ]

Il a enfin compris pourquoi [ He finally understood why ]

Le sien ne sera plus là [ His will not be there anymore ]

Comme un enfant, on ne vit qu'une fois [ Like a child, we only live once ]

Change is inevitable. Monuments erode. People are eventually replaced, and forgotten. The young live to be old, and the old wither away. You should sell Riley their stuff when they die.

#rumination

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rewoundcircuit · 5 years

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do the best you can do ✽ kimiko ✽ chapter one ✽ re: motive attn: ryuunosuke

Kimiko probably did have some kind of opinion on the events preceding Hideyoshi possessing the similar sort of confidence she might have also gone for and having it backfire terribly. How could she not, after all? Rounded up at some disgusting time in the morning - which COULD very well be even earlier in a lie about the time and they wouldn't know! - and forcing her to remember being stuck in this stupid station with an apparent 'murder game' going on. Surely ANYONE would have a fair number of opinions on that! And the fact no-one had come looking for her yet, it seemed! Unless they just cared about, say, 'enforcing the rules' or something stupid, probably. Ugh.

But all of that noise, petty or serious,

just

sort of

faded away in an instant. As fast as the very real gunshot came and went.

"This isn't... possible...!"

Kimiko Kita was a confident girl. That much had been evidenced alone in their brief time in this station, and really ever since she had learned to talk. Anything to do with herself had absolutely no question about it: she would roll with it, and she would do it well, and she would be fine.

The crucial part of that belief, as Kimiko was rapidly learning in the face of 'KIMIKO KITA - PENDING', was anything to do with herself.

And rapidly the static started to buzz in around that singular realisation.

(Someone else here- someone else here who may not even KNOW her or what she was about- had her life in their hands and there was nothing Kimiko herself could do apart from shake them all down- and even then if she started at the wrong place she may even be too LATE--)

(Then the fact it was even this person at all, and for all of Kimiko's lamenting about how people here didn't KNOW her- this proved someone behind all this knew her too much- and it only added to the feeling of utter helplessness--)

It was instinctual, really; a combination of looking back into eyes she'd already seen in her video and the words starting up around her of pleas and cries (already) and do not make any mistakes-

Tablet clutched to her chest, Kimiko turned her back on the board and bolted at a blinding speed, as though to try and leave the choice behind.

***

How long it took Kimiko to return to the board of names, she wasn't sure. She was steadily ignoring her only source of time for now; already, she'd seen that new tab enough.

But no matter how much she tried - paced, circled, laid down - she knew she wouldn't be able to rest in whatever way until she saw her name flip in either direction, and so Kimiko made her decision: she would just have to sit herself down there and wait. Chance of being murdered as a sitting duck? Stuff it. She was still sure she could take anyone here, since her life wasn't to be decided only by the press of a stupid button--!

On arrival, though, Kimiko thought she had fallen straight into wishful, deluded thinking.

'KIMIKO KITA - SPARED'.

"O-oh my god- I- really-?!"

Kimiko Kita was a confident girl, certain of any accomplishment. But all she could manage at that moment, that realisation, was allowing her legs to fold underneath her and drop her knees onto the floor before the board with a painful smack she didn't even notice.

(It would have been so unfair- so so heartwrenchingly unfair- after all the work put in by the two of them just to end like that because Kimiko had made it-)

(But it did make--)

It took a good moment or two for Kimiko to realise she had gained company at the ever-updating board, and it was to be a rare moment for her new companion where she was less in a rush to put on any appearance than usual. Shakily the girl got to her feet, swiped at her eyes, and set about trying to place this man to the roster she had finally actually read properly, rather than relying on half-hearted Google searches from before this stupid mess started.

"...Ryuu, yeah? Kimiko Kita, I- please just... excuse me..."

To her own surprise too, her eyes drifted towards the updated board for Ryuunosuke's name.

"...Ohhhh, I'm... I'm sorry..!"

#rwc #chone #normdays #kimiko #submission

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youcantkillamutant · 6 years

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A Map Made in Heaven (Chapter 6)

Prologue…Chapter 1…Chapter 2…Chapter 3…Chapter 4...Chapter 5

Author: youcantkillamutant

Fandom: Marvel (Black Panther)

Pairing: Erik Stevens/Killmonger x Black!OC

Summary: Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens is the biggest bootlegger in South Carolina, but he wants to be more than the middle man. After he receives a letter from an ‘old friend’ of his father, he embarks on a quest to find his homeland. Enter Audrey Cade, the finest mapmaker in the County.

Warnings: Mentions of slavery, death, and a lil angst

Words: 7K+

A/N: Back with that 1920’s AU! This is the final chapter before the epilogue y’all. I literally wrote this all today I don’t even know who I aim anymore I can’t even believe I wrote all this???? Thank you to everyone for reading liking and reblogging and recommending (!?!??!) this story. I love that y’all read and review. That stuff always makes my day! 😘😘😘

I only own my original characters of course. As usual Marvel don’t sue me I’m broke.

Listening to: Falling for Me by Johnnyswim, WATER (IF ONLY THEY KNEW) by Kojey Radical ft. Mahalia, XXX by Kendrick Lamar and City Burns by Andra Day

If ever there was a chapter to listen to the suggested songs, it’s this one!

CHAPTER VI

June 28, 1920: Wakanda

“What exactly are we looking at here?” Erik didn’t mean to sound rude, only annoyed. W’Kabi had interrupted his night with Audrey to show him what exactly?

The duo lurked in the hall just outside the garden of the Heart Shaped Herb. Erik had never bothered to spend much time here, even as a kid. He much preferred the Royal Greenhouse to this singular garden. Cast in the purple glow from the flower itself, the whole room looked like a menacing dream. Women in long robes shuffled around, standing and stooping to complete their duties along the way.

“Zuri has been sending gardeners away all week. They leave with something wrapped in cloth and return with nothing.” Just as W’Kabi said it, a gardener scurried off with a cloth wrapped package.

“What does that have to do with me?”

“He started doing it the second you arrived my Prince.” Erik’s head spun with the possibilities, but he didn’t latch onto anything just yet. He needed to do some research.

“W’Kabi, tomorrow, I’m going to talk to a few people who knew my father. You coming?” W’Kabi nodded easily. He didn’t know N’Jadaka anymore, the princeling had changed a great deal in his time away from Wakanda, but those changed seemed to be for the better.

“Anything you need my Prince.”

—o—

Zuri of Badu was running out of time. He’d never been a stupid man, so why he deluded himself into believing he could hide the truth made no sense at all. Still his brain scurried like a rat, reaching for life rings in the form of ideas that would never truly save him. The evidence of his service to T’Chaka was littered around his room. There were small things he’d never gotten rid of, only swept under his bed and behind his wardrobe until he forgot about them completely.

It was like N’Jadaka was the catalyst for all of these things resurfacing. Like an earthquake, he shook evidence free. Tickets flutters from the place in the rafters of his room, dust trickling down alongside it. A blindfold found its way from under the bed. A bloody panther claw rolled out from underneath the wardrobe.

Each of these items he sent to burn. He promise T’Chaka there would be no evidence, and in since the deed had been done, he grew lethargic in its wake. Now the prince had returned, and the Gardener scuttled to complete a twenty year old task.

—o—

June 29, 1920: Wakanda

Erik rose with the sun to meet Nelene Okiyete. Nelene was one of the two chairwomen for the Wakandian Farmers Association. The other was her twin sister Mokate. Nelene was a stocky woman, skin darkened by the sun and arms strengthened by working the land. She had a smile a mile wide and welcomed N’Jadaka to her lands with open arms.

“Come in, come in my prince.” She shuffled N’Jadaka into a sunroom that overlooked her vast fields.

“I must admit, I was happy to hear that the lost prince hadn’t lost his love for the land. Just like his mother.” N’Jadaka could only smile and duck his head at the mention of his mother, heart twinging at the thought of her.

“Thank you for having me over Aunti.” Nelene waved him off and poured some tea, gesturing for N’Jadaka to seat on the plushly cushioned wicker chairs. He sank into the seat reaching for a cookie from the low silver table. No doubt it was made of vibranium or gilded to look so.

“How is Kae doing?” Nelene asked innocently as she child into a chair of her own beside N’Jadaka. She could see so much of his father in him. The quiet intellect that simmered beneath the surface, how his eyes scanned every part of a room the second he entered, those sharp little ears.

“What?” Nelene nodded to Erik’s hair and his hand shot up to the dreads.

“I’d know her work anywhere.” N’Jadaka nodded uncomfortably, flashes of his last meeting with Mrs. Kae flooding his mind as shame filled his gut. He wondered what Kae would think of him now, having found Wakanda.

“She’s alright.” Nelene nodded into her tea, taking another sip before speaking.

“Well you’ve got me here Prince, what do you want to know?”

“Anything you can tell me about my father and Zuri would be good.”

“Your father and Zuri?” N’Jadaka only nodded intently, encouraging Nelene to continue.

“There’s not much to tell. I’m pretty sure those two hated each other.”

“Did they always?” Nelene nodded and then slowed, biting her lip and furrowing her brow. Thinking.

“I suppose not. I think Zuri’s true anger reared its head when N’Jobu met your mother. Bast he had stars in his eyes for that women and no one could shake them free. Not that I blame him. Your mother was a beauty.” Nelene winked her brown eyes at Erik jovially.

“N’Jobu couldn’t do enough for that girl. Always coming to Wakanda to bring her fresh blooms and new seeds. He would have done anything for that woman. Would have done anything for you too.” She nodded to N’Jadaka seriously.

“So Zuri hated my pops because he was in love?”

“I don’t think that was it.” She paused and glanced around. “I overheard a conversation between the King, your Father and the Gardener once. N’Jobu was trying to convince the king to provide aid to the Southern American states. Zuri and the king would not have it.”

Nelene could remember the conversation like it was yesterday. She had just finished her first meeting as secretary for the WFA and may have found herself a bit lost on the way out. The trio stood there bickering back and forth like children about the fate of an entire country.

“The King said something along the lines of ‘I cannot rule Wakanda and the Southern United States brother’ and N’Jobu grew increasingly frustrated.” Nelene turned to see N’Jadaka nearly tipping forward out of his chair to listen. She gave him a sad smile.

“I’ve never seen your father so angry before. By all accounts, he was the fun brother.” A small chuckle escaped her mouth. “But not after what the King had said. Bast he was heated. He told the king that ‘This is not about ruling or power’” Nelene paused for effect, turning her entire body towards N’Jadaka

“N’Jobu practically spat the words at his brother. He told T’Chaka ‘We have turned our backs on our brethren for too long. If we do not check ourselves now it will be too late to salvage even a sliver of our humanity ubhuti.’”

“And Zuri?”

“Zuri comforted the King.”

—o—

Audrey had work to do. The next Council meeting is in a few days, and she promised Shuri to have the maps done by then. In return, Shuri had slid an impossible amount of American Dollars into her suitcase. Audrey nearly had a heart attack when she saw the envelope. She would have never thought to charge that much for a commission like this, but she is working with royalty.

She made her way to the Lab to find Shuri and continue her work. Music was blasting from the space as usual, it made it easier to find in the winding hallways and staircases of the vast Wakandan palace. Shuri was jumping up and down excitedly as she spoke to Ayo, who listened on, unamused.

“…and that way the bucket falls on his head.” Shuri slapped her hands together excitedly and Ayo rolled her eyes.

“Shuri, what are you talking about?”

“Oh nothing dear cousin.” Audrey raised her eyebrow and Shuri crumbled.

“Fine. Ayo and I were just planning a little prank for the king and his future advisor, cousin.”

“I am not planning anything. I am merely in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Audrey’s smile lifted at Ayo’s smart retort and it only took a second for her to respond.

“I want in.” Shuri pumped her arm excitedly whispering ‘yes!’ while Audrey continued. “And why are you calling me cousin? We aren’t related.”

“Not yet, but I am sure we are about to be cousin. I saw the way N’Jadaka gazed at you. That man is point two seconds from professing his love to you and proposing.” Audrey couldn’t keep her heart from jumping at the idea of it, but she still shook her head at Shuri.

“He’s not focused on me. He’s got too much ambition to focus on me Shuri.”

“Sure.” Shuri rolled her eyes at Audrey’s comment. She’d spent plenty of time with N’Jadaka since his return and she could tell her cousin was 100% gone on Audrey. She watched his eyes dart to Audrey every time she entered a room. His hand hovered behind her back whenever they walked together. His eyes twinkled whenever they bantered. Bast, at this point Audrey could propose and he’d say yes.

“I didn’t come down here to plan pranks with you though. I need to keep working on those maps of Jabariland for the Council meeting.” Shuri had mentioned that Audrey could use the old cartographer’s office today and she was ready to spread out. The desk in her room was perfectly adequate for letter writing, but she needed more space. For the first time since she’d arrived in Wakanda, Audrey missed Cade’s Atlas.

Catching on quickly, Shuri led Audrey back up the steps of the Lab. She wove them through small walkways Audrey had never noticed before and expansive rooms that held windows bigger than her apartment. Finally they reached a room with a wooden door. The only wooden door Audrey had ever seen in the palace.

“The old cartographer married a Jabari woman. This was a gift from her wife I think. We haven’t had an official cartographer since before I was born though.” The door swung open to reveal a room twice the size of Cade’s Atlas. The vibranium floors, while dusty, still glittered. A large window was covered with a dark heavy drape and Shuri coughed as she pulled it open.

“Baba used to warn me against going in here. Said I would be bored to tears.” Shuri shrugged as she found the light switch. The bulbs took a moment to flick on, and Audrey was stunned to see the immaculate vibranium table. Half of it was covered in glass and lit from beneath creating an amazing lightbox, and the other half was the smoothest surface she’d ever felt. Her fingers itched to dip a pen in ink and get to work.

—o—

July 2, 1920: Wakanda

Audrey paced the vibranium floor so much she thought shed run a hole in it. She’s finished mapping Jabariland days ago. That wasn’t what compelled her to pace. That wasn’t what tied her stomach in knots. That wasn’t what kept her completely puzzled. When she had first started working in the old cartographer’s office, she’d flown through the Jabariland commission. She even made the changes Shuri suggested before tracing a copy in archival ink.

She found the maps on the lightbox. Audrey was planning to neatly pile all of the papers to the side of the table so she could finish up the commission, but the maps on the lightbox would let her. So instead, she studied them. They were maps of Wakanda and the southern states. In the mid 1800’s the island looked to be 500 or so miles away. But when she placed the map from 1900 over top of it, the island seemed to be drifting farther into the sea. Another map from 1905 confirmed her suspicions.

According to these maps Wakanda was drifting out to sea. Which in itself wasn’t too much of a cause for alarm, but there were numbers—calculations written all over the maps. This drifting wasn’t natural, it was plotted, planned, calculated even, and right underneath the calculations on every map was T’Chaka’s name, scratched in black ink.

It was more advanced than anything she had ever seen. No one had ever moved land mass like this. It shouldn’t have been possible. Audrey knew that Wakanda was advanced but she never imagined something like this. And why would T’Chaka push the island further away from civilization. Sure the south isn’t the greatest place to live, but southerners are notorious for being friendly neighbors. Why would anyone go to so much trouble? To push an island into the sea?

Audrey thought for a moment about telling Erik. He might be able to explain some of this, but something stopped her. This was bigger than whatever they were. It was definitely bigger than what Erik probably knew. This is a question for the king. Audrey bit her lip and pushed away the pang of betrayal she felt when she wrote Erik off. T’Challa is king, he has to know about this first.

It took her half a day to sketch copies of the maps, but by lunchtime she had gathered them into a thin folder. It took her another half day to write a note to T’Challa. She wasn’t sure how to word any of this, especially if T’Challa had no idea this was happening so she did her best to be concise. The moon illuminated the sky by the time she finished.

Winding her way through the palace, Audrey made it to T’Challa’s office. She only knew where it was because it was right beside Erik’s. She caught sight of his glittering vibarnium nameplate and smiled. N’Jadaka Udaku, Advisor to the King. Erik had come a long way, hell he had come home. Audrey hoped this wouldn’t ruin anything for him, hoped that her curiosity wouldn’t get her in trouble. Still unsure of her decision, Audrey slid the papers under T’Challa’s door praying to whoever was listening that she made the right decision.

—o—

Zuri could remember the night it all happened. He was a garden apprentice then, only trusted to purify the water and prune the new growth. T’Chaka and N’Jobu had made their way into the garden, voices carrying angrily as they drifted closer to Zuri. On his knees Zuri could just see their figures huddled close.

“Brother you can not keep pushing the island away from this! They will come soon enough.” N’Jobu had never cared for their plan to push the island further away from the mainland.

“I know you are upset about your wife, but moving Wakanda is the only way to keep our people safe.”

“This is not about my wife. This is about Wakanda brother.”

“Are you sure about that ubhuti?”

“As your trusted advisor, I propose we go to the mainland.” Zuri had to hold back a scoff at the use of the word ’trusted.’ T’Chaka hadn’t trusted his brother since the day he returned from the mainland, calling for a better future for people that were not his own.

“Talk to the people there, fight for them. If we build those people up—If we build our people up, protecting Wakanda from the mainland’s oppressors will no longer be an issue brother. If we welcome them home, they will see its importance. They will help us protect it, just as we helped them.”

“This is too great a problem to bend to your ridiculous ideologies N’Jobu.”

“So you would hide us away?” T’Chaka was silent for a time, Zuri held his breath even tighter then.

“We must help them. They are people just like us. They come from our lands, they are our people.” The rest transpired so quickly Zuri could not fathom it. The pair fought for that last time that night, and when Zuri scrambled and surveyed the scene he retched. The king on his knees, his brother in his lap, a gleaming vibranium claw stuck in his chest.

“My King. I am sorry.” Zuri could remember the embarrassment that flamed in his queasy stomach after vomiting in front of the king.

“Zuri, speak nothing of this day.” Zuri had agreed, even offered his assistance in any way he could. The king commanded he clean up the mess of N’Jobu, and they plotted what to do with N’Jadaka. From that day on, they were co-conspirators. Now the king was dead, another in his place, and Zuri, son of Badu could do nothing but choke on the secrets and the lies.

—o—

Another morning in the fields and another afternoon at the palace. Nelene had been helping N’Jadaka with well…everything. She taught him how to test the soil, and replot the land. She helped him research the best hops that would grow in the Wakandan climate and encouraged him to try a few different seedlings along with his main planned harvest.

Overnight, Nelene had become like a mother to him. Erik remembered when he would sit with his mother at the end of every winter. He would swing his feet beneath the wooden kitchen chair as he sat at the table with his mother, plotting the coming year’s harvest. She would always let him chose a new plant to try, grinning when he chose something outrageous. Still somehow, his mother made something grow.

He had to blink away the memory when he arrived at the palace before being swept away by his tutors. He’d already had all of the lessons he could from Ramonda, and the Council demanded he be well versed in all things Wakanda, but there were only so many senseless Wakandian etiquette rules that a man could take before he felt ready to bump off the next person who demanded he greet his cousin like a ‘king.’

Erik sighed with relief when he was finally released from his classes, deciding to make his way to the greenhouse. He could catch up with W’Kabi another time. For now, he just wanted to breathe in the plants and admire their color. Halfway to the royal hothouse he ran into Okoye. The two had never talked much, silently sized each other up and ignoring the need for communication. Apparently, that was over for Okoye.

“I have half a mind to ask you what you are really doing in Wakanda, but even I am not bold enough to question royalty.” Erik rolled his eyes and held back a snort. He’d seen the general in Council meetings. She couldn’t hold her tongue any more than he could hold his.

“You can relax Okoye. I’m not here to to anything but farm my father’s land.” An easy lie for it was a half truth. Erik still searched for the truth of what happened to his father, but Okoye didn’t need to know that.

“So you are N’Jadaka Udaku, the first Wakandan prince without ambition?” Her voice dripped with skepticism, and N’Jadaka shook his head.

“I didn’t say all that. Just that I don’t want no dinky ass chair to get fat in.” Okoye studied him for a long while. He raised his brow in challenge and she nodded in acceptance.

“Kuba ngumthetheli ongenakunqwenela. Ubukumkani abukho indawo yezihlunu.” With that warning uttered she marched off, leaving N’Jadaka to his devices.

—o—

July 3, 1920: Wakanda

“Shuri!” The prank went off without a hitch. Well, sort of. Erik was supposed to get hit with the water too, but he was a bit too fast for the bucket.

“It wasn’t all me brother! Audrey did it too!”

“Shuri!” Audrey gasped the name and whipped her head back to a bewildered T’Challa. “I didn’t sir, um I mean, your majes—” Audrey couldn’t continue her fumbling because Erik had burst out laughing.

Audrey had never seen him like this, clutching his sides and bending over in glee. Shuri wasn’t much better, even Ayo cracked a smile. Still, Audrey was happy that the throne room sat relatively empty. The queen was there, sat regally in her throne. A few of the Dora were there too, Okoye doing a much better job at hiding her amusement than Ayo.

“Audrey, do you have a moment?” Shuri’s laughter ended abruptly. Erik whispered ‘ohhh’ like a school child. Audrey squared her shoulders and followed Ramonda’s retreating form while Shuri and Erik whispered back and forth.

Audrey followed Ramonda through the ornate palace halls squinting as the sunlight strobed in her face as she passed window after window. She wasn’t sure if she was meant to catch up to Ramonda or stay behind but after a few minutes of walking she nearly bumped into Ramonda’s back when she stopped in the center of the hallway.

They had passed a few doors along the way, glittering with vibranium locks and panther carved handles, but now there were only paintings. Paintings of prestigious Kings and Queens, panthers and generals. Ramonda had stopped the pair in front of a painting of a woman. The entire image was cast in blue. Violet and cerulean glanced off of the woman’s broad nose and left a dreamy glint in her big brown eyes. With her left arm outstretched Ramonda grazed her fingers along the wall beneath the painting.

“Years ago, my mother was the country cartographer.” The vibranium nameplate gleamed under her brown thumb. Cebisa Undakewe, Official Cartographer of Wakanda.

“She travelled all over the island mapping courses and painting worlds on paper. She was the first to map Jabariland. She was the only one they allowed in. I can still remember when the king requested her presence in the palace. It was how I met T’Chaka.” Ramonda’s face drifted into a soft smile.

“He was so rude to my mother, I told him off. I Let him know that no one, prince or otherwise speaks to my mother with anything less than respect. I can still see the shock on his face!” She chuckled a bit, and Audrey’s face lifted into a tight smile still wondering what she was doing here.

“You remind me of her. I can see a world of wonder in your eyes. They way you hold your pen…Bast she never went anywhere without a pen.” Ramonda pressed her thumb into the wall, and to the right the wall split, drifting into the floor and ceiling respectively.

“The king was impressed when he saw my mother’s map. Hired her on the spot. Gave her this room to map the world ten times over.” Ramonda gestured for Audrey to walk in ahead of her and after another moment of hesitation she did.

The room itself wasn’t much to look at in comparison to the rest of the palace.

“I don’t mean to be rude Queen Ramonda, but—”

“Why did I bring you here?” Audrey nodded. “I’ve kept this place a secret for longer than I care to remember. I was hiding it. After my mother died I would come here until it no longer smelled like her sweet jasmine and cocoa scent. When that faded I could not bring myself to return. T’Chaka did not understand the pain of it, losing a mother, but I could not fathom another being in this space, her space. Until I met you.”

“You tumbled onto our little island and brought my nephew home. I prayed to Bast for him back and She dropped you into our laps like a gift. My mother would want you to create more worlds here. I want you to use her space as she did in the past.” Revive her memory. If only for a moment.

“Queen Ramonda I—”

“Please, call me Ramonda, or Auntie if that suits you.” Audrey’s eyes widened at the queen’s wink and she nodded.

“I do hope you stay Audrey. N’Jadaka is very clearly taken with you, as he should be.”

“Enkosi.”

“Your Wakandan is getting better!” Audrey could only nod bashfully. She wasn’t perfect, but she was trying.

—o—

July 5, 1920: Wakanda

“Stevens! Wait up.” Each day since she returned from Jabariland Audrey saw Erik in his father’s fields talking to all manner of people. Farmers mostly she assumed, but sometimes a guard slipped into the crowd, or a Border Tribesman. Audrey knew that N’Jobu had never had any sort of official affiliation with the tribe, so this had to be a new alliance. The idea of an alliance of any kind made Audrey…suspicious.

“Hey babydoll, what do you need?” Erik’s answer was easy. After all talking to Audrey had become eat most simple thing in his life at the moment. He hadn’t told her anything about the clandestine meetings, or his heavy surveillance of Zuri. She was a smart broad but she didn’t need to know all of that.

“What are you up to?” Erik should have known that he wouldn’t get anything past Audrey. He should have been surprised that Audrey held her tongue for this long. Instead, he let her question roll off of his back.

“What do you mean A?”

“I mean why are you meeting with the Border Tribe.”

“There’s something going on here Audrey. I need to get to the bottom of it.”

“Of course there’s something going on here. There are a million things going on here! It’s a Royal Court Stevens! That doesn’t mean you need to do whatever it is you’re doing now. I thought you came here for land. To start farming it and brewing and selling? have you forgotten about that?”

“Of course I haven’t forgotten. But ever since we got here, things have been strange Audrey. Certain stories just don’t add up.”

“What stories?”

“My disappearance for one. Everyone thinks I was taken by Klaue. That he killed my father and kidnapped me, but that’s not what I remember.”

“I thought you didn’t remember it at all.” Audrey remembered him mentioning that when they were first working on the map, that he couldn’t remember exactly how he got to America from Wakanda, just that he did.

“I don’t remember much. Just a blindfold, leaves brushing against my arms and silence.”

“That’s not nothing. Eri—” Audrey was interrupted yet again by a small Wakandan man. he held a satchel and a tablet the lit up his face. The back of it gleamed with solar panels and it fit into the palm of his hand. He tapped the screen with his fingers frustrated, murmuring about ‘annoying prototypes’ and something in Wakandan she couldn’t understand.

“Miss Cade, there’s a letter for you from Jabariland.” He tapped the screen a few more times with his pointer finger and then dug into his satchel for a small envelope. It was brown, and covered in childlike lettering. The stamp held an image of a Gorilla with the word Hanuman stamped below it. Audrey was so stunned to receive a letter that Erik had to take it for her.

He studied the woman he had grown to admire closely. He knew at some point she had to have received a letter from someone but this one seemed to trigger her somehow. Audrey’s mind flashed to the last time she had gotten anything hand delivered like this.

In Audrey’s eyes this man looked just like the other postman that knocked on the door of Cade’s Atlas nearly a decade ago. Tired eyes and slouching back, spine curving into a ‘c’ under the weight of his messages.

“Miss Cade, I am sorry to have to share this news with you, but on his latest expedition your grandfather met an untimely end—” Audrey had stopped listening then, having heard all she needed to know. A large envelope fell into her hands. The deed to Cade’s Atlas among other things. Erik’s voice interrupted Audrey’s detached memory.

“Audrey! Babydoll, hey.” Erik waved his hands in front of her, crowding her space and shuffling her towards the wall and away from the center of the hallway. “What the hell is going on? You want me to get rid of this thing?” Erik motioned to the letter in his hand and Audrey snapped back into action, snatching the brown paper from his hands.

“No. I—I got it, thanks.” Audrey ran her hands over the rough brown paper, admiring the pulp and blotchy ink.

To: Bincinke Audrey Cade

From: Princess Ti of the Jabari Tribe

With a smile and a deep breath Audrey broke the chunky wax seal. There were two pieces of parchment folded into the envelope, one a letter that detailed all of Ti’s exploits with her sisters and a question on when Audrey would return to Jabariland; the other was a map “home to Jabariland. Just in case you forget bincinke!” Audrey breathed out a laugh at the map’s title, and Erik couldn’t stop himself from speaking.

“Audrey, what was that abo—l” He could see Audrey shutting down, her lips closing tightly and eyes going hard. “Never mind, what did you get?”

“It’s a map. Ti drew it for me.” Audrey ran her fingers over the chunky hills and watery lakes that lay between the palace and Jabariland. Erik came around to her shoulder, leaning over it. He was so close to Audrey that his breath fanned the page and she could smell the earth on him.

“Cute.” Audrey nodded, and the pair resumed their palace stroll. Erik standing closer to Audrey than before and studying her for any sign of…whatever had just happened. They ambled past the kitchens and library in silence nearly at the Council Chambers before Audrey spoke again.

“What are you going to do?” Erik took his time formulating his response. He knew Audrey would wait for him. Raised voices from the Council room interrupted his thoughts and drew his and Audrey’s attention.

“You were never going to tell me? That my father the King—Bast Zuri.” It was T’Challa speaking to Zuri the succinct gardener that also happened to be T’Challa’s most trusted advisor.

“How could he kill his own brother?”

“N’Jobu was never fit to lead Wakanda. He always had his eyes in another man’s revolution. When N’Jobu came to the Council begging to aid the newly freed slaves in building their lives, T’Chaka refused. He knew Wakanda would stretch itself too thin.”

Zuri could remember that night. T’Chaka had sent the Council home after a full hour of arguing went on between him and N’Jobu. The sun has melted into the horizon and the moon rose from the sea. Still the pair fought.

“How can you turn your back so easily brother? And to actively push the island away from the mainland…I assume the Council does not know.” N’Jobu had been disturbed to learn of T’Chaka’s plan to push the island farther into the sea. Zuri saw no problem with the action. It was the only way to keep Wakanda out of the clutches of oppressors who would see to pillage the island they so deeply love. The country they so violently fought for.

“I am not our father. I refuse to indulge every one of your whims N’Jobu. I have a country to lead.” T’Chaka had been dismissive of N’Jobu’s pleading since his coronation. N’Jobu did not understand what had happened to cause such a marked change in his brother’s ideals. He could still remember the days they vowed to free the mainlanders of their chains and help them build a Wakanda on the coast.

“What is that supposed to mean ubhuti?”

“It means that Father turned his head when you brought that white man into our country to steal for your little rebellion. I will not do the same. I will not allow you to betray Wakanda for people that are not our own.” T’Chaka spit the words. N’Jobu had been at this for too long, and it was his fault, T’Chaka thought. As king, he never should have allowed that extended war dog mission to the American South. It only served to radicalize his brother and produced an unnecessary heir to the Wakandan throne.

“He knew?”

“He was the Black Panther. King of Wakanda. Nothing gets past him brother. He encouraged me to indulge your whims, but I can not in good conscience allow you to do this any longer.” Zuri remembered the relief that flooded his heart. Finally the king would no longer be beholden to his brothers indiscretions. Finally T’Chaka could truly be great.

“Why did he not say anything then.”

“He believed your cause noble. Honorable even.” T’Chaka’s derisive snort rivaled that of their mother’s. A woman known for her intelligence and intolerance for idiocy.

“And you ubhiti? Do you not feel the same?”

“They fought. T’Chaka lived. N’Jadaka was all that was left. We had to loose him, leave him.” Zuri was still shaking himself from the memory when T’Challa responded.

“No. No.” T’Challa’s head spun. For years he had allowed Zuri to lead the search for N’Jadaka. For year he had searched for his cousin himself. Now to find he was never meant to be found, to learn that his father killed his own brother.

“Klaue attempted to break out of the prison that same night. We staged a kidnapping. We had to maintain the lie. We left him far from the border of. To grow and forget our Wakanda.”

“Zuri—”

“We had to do it T’Challa, if he is his father’s child…his presence here will bring more pain than joy.” Erik had heard enough, and he was gone before Audrey could reach for him. She stood in the glittering palace hallway, wishing for the first time that she had never found Wakanda at all.

—o—

July 6, 1920: Wakanda

N’Jadaka had a plan. A plan that would prove Zuri right, just before he burned the entire island to the ground. It’s what they all deserve. He had already relayed a version of the plot to W’Kabi, telling him just what he needed to know and nothing more. W’Kabi would get him access to where he needed to be, and all he would need to do is light the match to watch the island burn. Finally, he felt like Killmonger again.

Audrey had spent all day searching for Erik. He wasn’t in his cottage, or his palace room, not in his father’s fields or in the lavish library overflowing with books. He didn’t want to be found so Audrey changed tactics. She looked for his allies. The farmers were all home, and she didn’t find a border tribesman to follow until the morning. After two hours of following the man on errands, she found Erik in the palace basement. The only dark place she’d ever seen in Wakanda.

The basement was cool, a stark contrast to the wet island heat Audrey had gotten used to. Erik stood centered on the concrete floor surrounded by vibranium chests and rolls of parchment. Audrey could only see his back, covered in keloids and broad shoulders rising and falling slowly. he looked larger than Audrey remembered.

“Erik.” Audrey voice drifted through the room and Erik cocked his head towards the sound. He never answered, or turned so Audrey tried again.

“Erik, what are you doing down here?” Erik reveled in the way his name fell from her lips, knowing it’s probably the last time he’ll hear it.

“He killed my father.” Audrey had nothing to say to that, and Erik knew she wouldn’t. He reveled in her cautious silence like he never had before.

“I can’t let that go dollface.” Audrey’s lip curled in annoyance. The nickname was enough to know that she was speaking to the infamous Killmonger. Erik Stevens was no longer rational, no longer calling the shots.

“You should talk to T’Challa.” Killmonger scoffed. “I’m not telling you to let it all go, but T’Challa didn’t even know, Erik.” It felt strange saying his name so often, but Audrey was willing to try anything to bring killmonger to his senses. Whatever he was planning would be too much.

“Why are you trying to protect him?”

“I’m not trying to protect him I’m trying to protect you.” And she was. She had already caught sight of the matchbook clenched in his hands. Audrey had a feeling that there was more than vibranium chests and parchment down here.

“Everything you’ve worked for, all of this? You want to destroy it like that?” She snapped her fingers before continuing.

“They offered you a position as advisor to the king! You can use your position to get what you really want. You can use it to better the world like your father wanted.” Erik twitched at the use of his father’s words. Audrey knew he would hate her for it, but she also knew he would hate himself more if he destroyed his home.

“They killed my pops Audrey. My father! All because he ain’t agree with the king. I can’t let that slide.” Erik finally turned, and Audrey hated herself for jumping. She had never seen him so angry. His dreads fell in his face and his golden fangs were bared in anger. Steeling herself, Audrey pushed forward, closer to Killmonger.

“So what are you going to do? Kill the royal court?” Audrey’s arms waved in question. “I wish you could hear yourself Erik! God I wish you would just take a moment to think. Erik Azzuri Stevens.” Erik stilled, it was the first time he’d heard Audrey say his full name. It burned on the way down. He knew he’d never hear it again.

“Imma do what I have to to honor my father Audrey.” Audrey shook her head in disappointment.

“You know, I always wondered what it would be like. To know my home, to know who I’m really supposed to be. I would kill to feel like I truly belong somewhere, to stand in my history. Hell to even know my history and you— You have it all. You’re a freaking prince. You’re home, and you want to throw it away?”

“You don’t understand.”

“Of course I understand Erik! They left you, they took me. My ancestors, our ancestors were never even supposed to be here. We were traded and sold and left alone in this world—” Tears fell, and Audrey tried to wrangle her cracking voice.

“Of course I understand Erik.”

“It’s not that simple dollface.”

“It never is, but that doesn’t mean you throw it all away.”

“You should go.”

—o—

So she left. Audrey packed her things, grabbing the key to Killmonger’s model T and hopped on the next ferry to the mainland. The border tribe said nothing as she boarded the boat and only one thing when it docked on the soil of South Carolina.

“NgoMeyi Makugcinwe udade okhuselekileyo.” Exhausted and cried out, Audrey couldn’t even begin trying to decipher that sentence.

Instead she unfurled the map that got her into this mess, and made her way to Erik’s automobile. The sleek black machine started without a problem and she pushed the pedal hard, sailing down Highway 17, towards home. In a blink she was back in Charleston rolling the car to a stop in front of Oakies.

It looked just as dingy as it had when they left, Lights flickering in the lettered sign and music spilling into the street. Her feet carried her into the bar before her mind could stop them and she made her way to Killmonger’s golden booth. The music tonight was harsher than she’d ever heard it, and Audrey closed her eyes to listen.

I know a couple of devils in Prada tuxedos…

A dark skinned man spoke into the microphone while a woman crooned beside him. Audrey gazed at the pair, taking in the woman’s braided hair tucked into a silken scarf. She swallowed and sunk further into the booth, letting the music wash over her.

I think there’s something in the water…

Slowly, Audrey’s mind awoke from being on autopilot during her journey. Inhaling made her heart lurch. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. What she just left. Who she just left. Erik was—is hurting. She shouldn’t have— The front door banged against the wall and Junie’s voice jolted Audrey out of her spiraling mind.

“Audrey Cade! You’re back!” Junie ambled to the gold booth where her friend sat, taking her in. Her skin shone like it never had before, she looked younger and wiser somehow and Junie couldn’t stop the grin that formed on her face. She missed her little sister. Sliding into the booth with a smile, Junie waved down a waiter.

“So how was it? Tell me everything.”

That sentence was all it took for Audrey to break down in tears.

—o—

His car key was gone. Audrey was gone. He sent Audrey away. Erik didn’t think she would actually listen. This is the first time she’s ever truly listened to his demands. Fuck.

Erik had already been to her room. He had already stared at the empty closet for too long and rooted around the desk. The drawers were empty, no ink, no paper, no Audrey. Erik even went where he shouldn’t have, to her secret mapmaking room. he ran his fingers searchingly along the walls until he found the button that allowed him access. He spent hours pouring over the maps, her maps. The whole place even smelled like her.

For a second he convinced himself that nothing had changed. Erik imagined a future where even in his prince hood she would come home to him every night. He would pick something from the fields to cook, and she would tell him all about her daily adventures. After dinner she would sketch him as he read, or did dishes, or wrote. When the moon and stars kissed the sky they would fall into bed together lazily, and drift into a dreamless sleep. They didn’t need dreams anymore, they lived one.

“My Prince.” N’Jadaka was jolted from his reverie by W’Kabi.

“Everything is prepared.” Erik nodded. Still, even with Audrey on his mind he couldn’t shake his ideals. She may have soothing answers but the truth still burns him. Flame was licking his stomach from the inside out.

“My prince, are you ready?” W’Kabi questioned.

With a strike and a breath, N’Jadaka lit the match.

—o—

Translations

Kuba ngumthetheli ongenakunqwenela. Ubukumkani abukho indawo yezihlunu: Be careful ambitionless Prince. The monarchy does not have room for fools.

—o—

Enkosi: Thank you

—o—

Bincinke: Explorer (Hausa)

—o—

NgoMeyi Makugcinwe udade okhuselekileyo: may Bast keep you safe sister.

A/N: So...yeah...Erik’s going through it. All has been revealed and...shit stinks okay. To be honest that last conversation between Erik and Audrey was one of the first scenes I wrote when I was imagining this story. As an African-American I found it so so easy to relate to Erik in the movie because DAMN y’all didn’t want to help nobody Wakanda??? For real???? But I’m with Audrey on this one, if some how I could find my way back home and be embraced the way that Erik is...Idk man...I might not feel so adrift. At least in terms of family history and whatnot.

I think I’m in love with the idea of knowing who I could have been had slavery and all that foul shit not happened. What my culture would have been, or how my diet would be different, even the different bedtime stories I might have heard as a child. I’m into theorizing about that I guess if that makes sense. Which is why the conversation Audrey has with Erik is so important to me.

Anyways...enough about me. So...the couple is separated and Erik is ready to drop that match on Wakandan soil...I can fix this I think. It’ll just take some time for those two to find their way back home.

I really hope no one is disappointed by this. I’ve put a lot into this fic and this is always how it was going to end. I actually never start writing a story until I know how I want it to end. Either way, I love you all for liking and reading and reblogging and reviewing, you’ve made my life much richer! 😘

Only the epilogue to go, and then it’s on to another story. 😎An even crazier AU

Also! I’ve been posting this fic on Ao3 my username there is thegirlwiththebags here’s the link if you want to read it there! I always post on tumblr first though 😊😊😊

Taglist: @muse-of-mbaku @k-michaelis @nemesispawn @queenamaniii @thatrandomfangirl98 @princessstevens @killmongurl @bidibidibombaclaat @thelovelyliterary @panthergoddessbast @dreadedphilosphy @elaindeereads @thedom223

#A Map Made in Heaven #my writing #mine #bp fic #erik killmonger #erik killmonger x black!OC #black panther #erik killmonger fic #1920's AU

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ambrosiaswhispers · 6 years

Text

The Fate of the Last Saiyan Prince

The title is awful auspicious for such a short piece. I’ve never written in this fandom before but Vegeta and Bulma were one of my first ships EVER! I loved their dynamic and when I was watching Dragon Ball Super to help with my sanity I fell in love with these hotheads all over again.

This piece is more about Vegeta and his family then a traditional romantic piece. I love it though.

Inspired by Wanderer's Lullaby, Being Human, and all the DBZ and DBS I've been watching lately. I cried while writing it. I don't think this is exactly all cannon - I may have gotten some details wrong, but this is just my take on the situation. I've heard that he actually dies before she does, but these images wouldn't leave my head, so here we are. He refers to his daughter as Echalotte and Trunks calls her Bulla (blame subtitles) - I am aware she is Bra.

I really hope you enjoy the story - sad as it is. The ending I think makes it better.

The Fate of the Last Saiyan Prince

He landed on earth it had been years since he’d been home…home? He shook his head, when did this backwater, mud-ball become home? He could feign ignorance and pretend that he didn’t know when that had happened, but he wasn’t one to disillusion himself.

Hey Homeboy, loosen up!

He could still hear her clear as the moment she teased him to get his attention.

You need a shower.

He could still feel that finger pressing against his armor and remembered following her like some kind of lost puppy.

He landed at her grave, entombed with her parents, where it was proper. Her smiling image marking the vault, a moment frozen in time from shortly after their daughter was born. Trunks had picked out the photograph, he hadn’t been able to speak and Echalotte never left his side.

“Trunks – it’s a family name. I don’t really care what you think! You won’t even claim him you asshole!”

“Bulla – cutest name for the cutest girl. Like it? We can give her a Saiyan middle name if you want, Hun.”

His son had grown up and into his own after many years of being far too obnoxious. Trunks had taken an interest in the inner working of the technological empire he was heir too, learning alongside his grandfather and mother. He’d married Mai, and she was a good choice, they took over the company with ease. Trunks had a family of his own now, two kids and they all lived on the compound that had been Vegeta’s home for so many years. He was proud of Trunks, but his son took after his mother in so many ways.

His daughter was far more like him then he’d like to admit. He first saw it when she was six and was determined to be the best ballet dancer in her class, demanding to stay up past her bedtime to practice with a singular determination to reach her goal. When she was ten, her birthday party was in full swing and he observed her sneaking off by herself. He confronted her and she shrugged explaining that she didn’t really want all of the fuss, but it made Mamma happy so she’d acquiesced. His Echalotte…Bulla’s selflessness was from her mother, even if she displayed it more like him.

He could feel all of them in the house tonight, some kind of celebration was being prepared for, he could see all of the telltale signs. He focused until he found Echalotte’s ki and landed on the balcony outside the room. She was sitting in a zip-up shirt and lounge pants as she applied her make-up. She was the very image of her mother with her shortened blue hair.

“Hello, Father.” She smiled at him softly through the mirror’s reflection, then continued her task. “You missed all the excitement. The twins were born two months ago. I think you need to have a conversation with Trunks, before he and Mai repopulate the Saiyan race all on their own.”

He smirked and stepped into the room that had been Echalotte’s when she was growing up. “She survived having twins? I wouldn’t have given Mai that much credit.”

“Shenron may have been involved.” She flashed an identical smirk back at him. “Don’t tell her.”

He gave an agreeable sound and glanced around the room, before asking, “How is your son?”

“Reign is good. It’s been two years here since you’ve been home. He’s five and stronger than I originally expected. My experiment worked, I knew I could find a DNA combination in a human that would amply the Saiyan and not delude it.”

She had a mind like her mother sometimes, and her way of having a child had been a fight between them. He hadn’t approved of her DNA examination and artificial insemination. It was the first real fight he’d ever had with his daughter. It didn't help that she'd started her research right after they lost...

“I’m glad you’re pleased.”

“No, you aren’t. You wanted me to be wrong and you still want to know who his father is.” She put in her earrings and stood up, but kept some space between them. She was two inches taller than he was and she wasn’t trying to challenge him right now.

He waved his hand dismissively, “I want you to be happy. However it happened, it happened.”

There was a knock on the door followed by “mother” in Saiyan royal tongue.

“Enter.” Echalotte answered and a boy who was no less his own spitting image stepped into the room, his eyes lighting up.

“Grandfather! You’re here!” Reign started excitedly before remembering himself. “I’m excited to see you. I can’t sense your power-level.” He inclined his head to one side.

“I’m camouflaging it. Something you should have started training on.” Vegeta informed his grandson without any real malice in his tone.

The boy bowed his head, then looked to his mother as he tugged on his undone tie, “I need help.”

She motioned to the chair and the boy climbed up on it. “Watch me so you learn.” The boy’s eyes followed Echalotte’s slow even motions as she knotted the tie carefully. “There. Do not get dirty. The party is starting soon. Tell your Uncle that Grandfather is here.”

The boy nodded and dashed out of the room.

“You taught him?”

“Both tongues, of course, and I made an archive. The language will live on and anything else I can find. I’m going to be traveling after tonight’s announcement.”

“Announcement?”

“The party is to honor Mother, but I’m turning over my ownership of the company to Trunks. He’s always been like her then I was and he loves Caps Corp, even if he won’t admit it.” She slipped into the bathroom and he stepped back out onto the balcony.

He stared up at the stars and sighed heavily as he stretched out to feel all of the chaos on the grounds. Trunks was with Mai and all of their children and he was happy. Both of his children were happy and his grandchildren were powerful and had potential. She would have been so proud of them, no, she would have been vibrantly and obnoxiously elated to see how they’d grown up. She would have thrown a thousand ‘I-told-you-so’s about her parenting triumphs at him and he would have endured every one with hidden joy. What he wouldn’t give to hear her voice, smell her, just be in her presence again…

There was an ache that he’d never been able to shake since her death ten years ago. He just needed to see his family again, before he…

“Have you decided which star already?” If she hadn’t been the image of her mother before she certainly was now in the red dress she was wearing.

He felt a pain in his chest, he hadn’t wanted either of his children to know what he was planning, but he didn’t lie to them. He silently pointed.

His daughter let a low laugh pass through her painted lips, “It’s in the constellation for her zodiac. I can hear her now: I musta been too hot for ya, Babe.”

He allowed himself to chuckle, because she would have laughed and she would have said something like that. “Are you going to tell your brother?”

“No. It’s your choice. He’d try to stop you, it would be a fight, and then there would be nothing in these last memories but regrets.” She laid her hand on his arm. “Go change. Come with me to the party tonight. See your children and grandchildren shine. Hear her be honored. Then when you say goodbye no one will even flinch.”

He agreed and stepped into the room that he shared with her or so, so many years. He normally avoided it, but this was more like a goodbye than a visit. He found a suit that she’d forced him to wear and it still fit, slightly looser – he didn’t eat as well as he used to. He glanced at the pictures on the wall, no dust, but it looked as if nothing was touched like she could sweep in at any moment and tease him about his crooked tie. He straightened it as he noticed the pair of dark eyes watching him from the doorway.

“Come here, Reign.” He beckoned the boy. When his grandson got to him, Vegeta laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Make sure you always good take care of your mother. Be true to your clan.”

The boy nodded.

“Good. Now I should meet your new cousins.”

The party was everything he would have hated and he would have grumbled to her all night about being miserable. Tonight he simply and quietly watched everything unfold. He saw his son as a strong and capable business owner, but still sharp physically as Trunks had no trouble wrangling all four of his children and kept a close eye on Mai. They were happy, properly bonded mates: supportive but still challenging each other. His grandchildren: four boys and one girl, who had Trunks wrapped around her tiny finger already…He wished she could have seen them. She would have loved them. Could she see them? Maybe she could where she was on the other side.

He stayed until the party was over and the family was left alone on the lawn under the tent. Mai looked tired as she rocked the youngest boy, while Trunks held the little girl. The other children were starting to get sleepy when Reign asked Echalotte to sing to them. The song was low and sad about wanderer looking for his place in the world. He simply sat in the space with them, relishing the last moments he would ever get with them. There would be no reunions for him in the afterlife. There were too many dark stains in his past.

“Okay, well, we should get the rugrats to bed. Guys, say goodnight to your Aunt Bulla and your Grandfather.” Trunks rustled up the kids and they bid their ‘goodnights.’

“I can take them. Sit.” Mai waved him off and their oldest took the little girl from Trunks. “Always nice to see you, Vegeta.”

He nodded as she passed him with her children in tow. The three sat in silence for a long spell as Reign snored in the chair he’d fallen unconscious in.

“When did you fall in love with her?” Echalotte asked barely above a whisper.

“Bulla.” Trunk snipped, no doubt agitated that she was going to ruin the good mood they were all in with that question.

Normally, he would have reacted badly, even scoffed at the idea of rehashing the past, but not tonight. “It was after Cell.”

“There goes my fairytale backstory.” Trunk dared to joke.

“Quiet boy, you already knew I didn’t love her when you were conceived. It was weakness on my part and stupidity on hers. Why she ever…” His voice held none of his normal bite, but he folded his arms over his chest. “You were not a mistake. But she knew that long before I did. I was foolish and selfish when she told me. We were too stubborn and had no intention of changing for each other. After Cell was defeated; I was lost, but I wanted better for you then what that boy from the future had. She allowed me to be near you. You were the reason that I stayed and ultimately why I saw her as something other than a distraction, but…” He closed his eyes.

“You don’t…” Trunk started to interrupt.

“I’ll continue if I wish. Hold your tongue.”

His daughter chuckled.

“I realized I cared for you both and it was unnerving, unsettling, and I thought it made me weak. That’s why I surrendered myself to evil again. It was a mistake. One that I couldn’t believe that your mother ever forgave me for…she shouldn’t have.”

“She knew what you sacrificed for her and for me.” His son reminded him.

“It was pointless.”

“Not to us.”

Vegeta made an agreeable sound. “I didn’t show it often, but I did love her.”

“We know that.” His daughter assured him. “She never doubted it.”

A pair of cries rang out from the quiet of the house. “That's my cue, if I want to sleep in my own bed.” Trunk scrambled up and started towards the house.

As Trunks passed by him, Vegeta caught his eye, “I am proud of you, my son. Know that.”

The lavender haired man looked surprised but managed to respond evenly. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.”

Vegeta snorted and looked away, he couldn’t say anything more without it seeming suspicious.

Echalotte stood up and scooped up her son. “Walk with me, please.” He nodded and followed her up the stairs, watching her tuck in her sleeping child.

They walked back onto the balcony of her room and he caught the scent of tears in the air. “I’m sorry.” She cleared her throat. “I’m trying to grieve like you’d want, but I think my human side is going to get the better of me. It’s all I can do to control my ki so Trunks doesn’t figure it out.” She leaned her shoulder against his for a moment, before moving away quickly.

He stepped back into her space and caught her face in his hands, “You are a good daughter. A blessing.”

She nodded and allowed him to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “No matter where you are sent in the beyond… I love you and that…That love travels with you. You are a warrior of the greatest strength and nobility.”

He kissed her forehead and left her on the balcony, hearing her controlled her sobs. He changed into the armor, the armor she’d made for him. He would die a warrior, not let age take him. He took off from the compound and glanced back and caught sight of Trunks on his balcony with one of the babies and heard Echalotte shakily singing a ballad that he’d taught her. He raised his fist and took off towards his destination.

.:.

The heat and the pain were long forgotten by the time he stood in front of the desk to learn what his fate would be.

The King shook his head. “You just can’t die without destroying yourself can you?”

Vegeta shrugged.

“I had a special place in Hell set-up for you.” The glorified paper pusher held up a small book, “All the crimes you committed…I made a separate book for you. I looked forward to reading it to you. All of the lives you took, the planets you destroyed, the cultures you ended, and the people you hurt…But it appears as though someone changed your fate.”

“What?” He was genuinely confused.

A mirror appeared to the left of the King and he explained. “Someone wished another fate for you.”

The image in the mirror was the dragon Shenron looming over his daughter. “What you ask is no easy feat and I’m inclined not to grant it.”

“It is my wish and you will…”

“Foolish daughter of a fallen, bloodstained prince of a lost people, you dare question me?!? Why should I bestow any grace to that warmonger?” The dragon snarled his voice booming, lightning illuminating the sky.

Echalotte narrowed her eyes, daring to rebuke the Eternal Dragon, instead of cowering. "Because he was not that man when he died. He was hero to the earth, to the universe, and to me! He was a good father and loving husband. He deserves to rest in peace with my mother. I want you to wipe the sins away from his soul so that he can be with my mother again. It’s the only place he ever found peace. It’s what he deserves! And you will grant this wish!"

Vegeta clenched his fists. What was that crazy girl doing? Was this happening now? Had it already happened?

The dragon growled, its tail lashing furiously, “Arrogant child! You are unwise to make such a wish then speak to me this way. If I so choose I could grant your wish by painting those sins on your soul. Condemn you to his true fate.”

She smiled fearlessly, “So do it. I would gladly bear it.”

That stupid girl! NO! You idiotic half-human whelp, too much pride like her…like her Saiyan father. Vegeta dropped to his knees. He could bear his sins, not... His fate should not befall her. NO! How…How could she….

The dragon was quiet for a long moment, “I will grant this wish without staining your soul, but I best not see you again haughty girl.”

“You will not.”

Vegeta pulled himself up onto his feet, drawing in nonexistent air that he no longer needed. She was safe. Too much like him and too much like her mother. It was a wonder that she hadn’t caused his death instead of that star.

“Your wish has been granted.” The orange light permeated the area and the dragon balls zipped away as the sky cleared.

“Did we save grandfather?” A younger Reign asked his mother as he looked up from where he’d been sitting at her feet.

She gathered him up in her arms."We did, but that’s our secret.”

“Grandfather was a prince?"

“He was a king, my son. Your grandfather was the last great king of the Saiyan race. And I will tell you all the stories about how he saved the world.”

“All abridged versions where he’s the hero instead of Goku?” Trunks called out as he approached. “Bulla, I can’t believe how reckless…I mean, I didn’t gather the dragon balls with you just to watch you condemn yours…”

“Quiet Princess Trunks, no whining when celebrating victory!” Echalotte barked, but her smile was her mother's delighted and triumphant grin and Reigned giggled.

“Not funny, Sis, really not funny.”

The imaged melted from the mirror and the mirror vanished.

They had…his children had saved him...He didn’t know how to feel about the situation. How to fathom it. They had known somehow that he was planning his death. They had prepared for it, but surely it couldn’t be that simple. Those sins couldn’t just vanish.

The King held up the small black book and black ink dripping out of it making a pool on the floor. “You see, you have a different fate awaiting you.” A door appeared to his left where the mirror had been, “Go.”

Vegeta had never been one to fear, but this…He gripped the handle his hand shaking. The white light on the other side blinded him for a moment as he dared to take that first step…

“You jerk, you kept me waiting….Oh, I’m just kidding, shesh. Welcome home, my brave Prince.”

"Bulma...

#vebebul #Vegeta #bulma #vegeta x bulma #angsty fic #posted on AO3 #saiyan pride #trunks #bulla

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