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mithrilhearts · 3 years ago

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PLOT BUNNY #4 ↳ TWICE IN A LIFETIME

Summary: Just days before the siege on the Dimrill Gate, Thorin voices his guilt for his inability to keep his people safe when Smaug took the mountain. In the middle of an angry prayer to Mahal himself, the ringing of an anvil is the last thing Thorin remembers before waking up within the rolling green hills of the Shire. It’s there he’s greeted by a set of hazels he’d never forget. Not in this lifetime.

If you want to see this fic in the future, be sure to like, reblog, and/or comment! Feedback is welcome, and I can’t wait to see what fic wins the raz2k! Check out the MASTERPOST to see the other plot bunnies!

Dunland had not been the ideal destination, but it was suitable enough to house the displaced dwarves of Erebor for a time. The Grey Mountains were not optimal, nor was flooding the Iron Hills with refugees, which led the Longbeard clan to drift like dust in the wind to anywhere they could find some form of shelter and potential work. A means to survive was not wrapped in luxury, and that was harder for those impacted by greed that rivaled Smaug to understand.

Thorin’s gaze was fixed on Thror who was hunched over a slab of wood that had been fashioned into a makeshift table within their campsite. This idea of Thror’s was foolish, Thorin would be the first one to think it, but his mouth never opened to try and talk some sense into the king of the Longbeards, even if his throne was far to the East by now–likely destroyed by the evil serpent that had run the dwarves out in the first place. While Thorin’s skepticism remained high, his loyalty to both the crown, as well as family, was even higher.

“When the forces from the Iron Hills arrive we can make haste for Moria,” Thror announced, earning silence in response, but no shortage of looks were exchanged at the rather outlandish declaration. “We will reclaim what once was ours and live comfortably again, especially with our access to the mithril veins once more.”

Was it ever not about riches and wealth?

Thorin’s lips curled downward as he remained silent, his arms folded and simply listening, but not quite paying the most attention, which was his first mistake.

“You’re silent and despondent. What is it?”

As the attention shifted to Thorin, the dwarf shifted uncomfortably under the several sets of eyes that were on him. From his grandfather to his siblings and a few others who were deemed necessary for these declarations of war, Thorin wasn’t sure what he could say under such scrutiny that wouldn’t make him sound cowardly.

It wasn’t that Thorin didn’t want to take back what was rightfully theirs, but the images of smoke and fire still lingered vividly behind his eyelids anytime they closed. Adding another terror to embed itself into his heart was not exactly something he felt encouraging.

“Speak, sigindashatê (my grandson).”

Gnawing the inside of his cheeks wouldn’t remove the attention from Thorin any faster, and much to his immediate regret, he opened his mouth. “You’re leading us to suicide for the sake of a few mithril mines?”

“I am leading us to take back what is rightfully ours unless you think it fitting for us to remain without a proper place to rest our heads and fill our bellies?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Look around you. We have not known home for some time and it is taking a toll on my people.”

Thorin had to bite his tongue to keep the words he desperately wanted to spit locked behind his teeth. That glint in Thror’s eye that reminded him of the same stare he would give the treasure hall was enough to make his skin crawl. Dropping his eyes in defeat, not wanting to go toe to toe with his king, regardless of how reasonable his concerns seemed, Thorin knew that Thror wasn’t finished in justifying his actions.

“I have guided our people across the mountains and through hardship since Smaug took Erebor from us, and now when there is an opportunity to reclaim some semblance of home again, it is a risk I am willing to take for the greater good of Durin’s Folk. I would have hoped you’d see my side of things instead of shirking aside your loyalty in favor of cowardice.”

Those sky blue eyes narrowed, Thorin’s teeth grinding behind his lips as he felt a hand land on his shoulder, not daring to lift his gaze to meet that of his superiors and those around him.

“Thorin’s concern is not unwarranted, he too cares for our people and wishes to see them safe,” Thrain interjected calmly, giving his son’s shoulder a firm squeeze. It was one of many times that shoulder had felt the gesture, and one of the few things that kept the oldest of Thrain’s three children from throwing his hands up and walking away from whatever argument was on the horizon. “We must be tactful if we are to attempt this and explore every avenue of possibility to ensure the safety of our kin and comrades.”

“If his heart is not on the battlefield, and not with Durin’s Folk, then he will surely die,” Thror snarled.

Normally Thorin would have kept quiet and stuck around out of that loyalty he supposedly shirked to the side, but with a particular nerve of his having been struck like a poorly played harp, he simply couldn’t stand idly by as if everything was okay. Not after all he had witnessed in his life already.

Without a warning, Thorin shrugged his shoulder from Thrain’s grip and quickly exited the small council that had gathered to discuss Thror’s plans for Moria, and much to Thorin’s relief, no one immediately followed him. No doubt Thrain had something to do with that, he’d always been something of a mediator whenever stress got high. A true voice of reason and someone who looked out for the dwarves’ safety and happiness, much like Thorin did. That was the difference between them and their current king. Thror’s eyes were always set on the outcome that best benefited him, not the whole of Durin’s Folk, no matter what he said.

Scuffing his boots across the grass and passing several sets of eyes that landed on him in the process, Thorin could feel the muscles in his hands tighten and cramp by how they were balled up. For far too long he and Thrain had been shouldering the weight of these dwarves’ happiness, and to see that all be cast aside so quickly? It was aggravating. Perhaps had their numbers been greater and their plans more thought out, he’d be more inclined to march first thing upon the Dimrill Gate.

The more he thought about it as he wandered away from the heart of the campsite where the dwarvish refugees had settled in the wilds, the more his thoughts began to teeter. To fight and be hailed a brave hero, or to continue to protest and be seen as a coward. It should have been simple, but since the day the dragon came, Thorin had to think about the big picture. They’d lost so much already. In his heart of hearts he knew that regardless of his feelings, he would not abandon his kin in the name of skepticism and being cautious. But a warrior whose heart was not dedicated to the battlefield was doomed to die, and Thorin couldn’t force that sort of dedication at this given moment.

So he sought out a small place of peace to try and find the guidance he was seeking, even if he didn’t expect an answer to land in his lap.

There it was, a small anvil with a hammer engraved with the name of Mahal across the handle nestled near the end of the campsite. A small makeshift shrine towards the great smith himself where those distraught might find a bit of comfort in prayer to their patron god, and while Thorin never found much use for a silly idea, here he was.

Dropping to his knees before the anvil and ducking his head down, hands firmly placed against his thighs, Thorin merely squinted towards the ground in annoyance as he finally let out the heavy puff of air that had collected in his lungs since leaving the meeting Thror was holding.

“What am I doing?” Thorin asked, eyeing the hammer with disdain as if the inanimate object would knock some sort of answer into him as soon as the words left his lips.

“I am not shirking my loyalty in favor of cowardice,” he grumbled, a hiss passing through his teeth alongside the words as Thror’s assessment stung like salt in barely healing wounds yet again. “Frerin wants to go…” Thorin felt himself choke on the words, thinking of the eager-eyed look he had been given when the plan first started to come to light. Frerin had wanted to fight, to prove himself a proper warrior. He held the enthusiasm that Thorin was lacking. “And I want to want to fight…but…” It would only lead to more bloodshed in the name of greed.

It was a vicious cycle, wasn’t it? Greed had led Smaug to Erebor, and now greed was leading Thror to Moria.

“I could not spare the suffering of my people when Smaug came,” Thorin lamented as his eyes closed and his forehead gently rested against the anvil. A sense of shame he had been harboring in his heart for all of these years was starting to bubble to the surface. “The dragon came and we lost everything. Now we risk losing it all again…” It sparked something in Thorin, an anger that had been building for some time now, even before the days of Smaug’s terror.

“It is a hopeless prayer. How many times have I begged and pleaded for a sign? For a sanctuary for my people so that they may find peace?” With furrowed brows and tightened hands on his thighs, Thorin could feel the agitation boiling beneath the surface. “But you!” He hissed, his eyes lifting and staring upwards to the sky overhead peeking beyond the trees. “You were nowhere to be found!” The snarl that tore through Thorin’s throat caused the dwarf to wince, an ache in his gut that no amount of helpful herbs or other remedies might soothe.

Rising to his feet and continuing to glare daggers at the sky, Thorin needed someone to blame for his shortcomings, and for the fate that had been handed to his people. “Your creations displaced, others burned or watched their loved ones perish. And what did the mighty smith do from his seat on high? Nothing.” It was far easier to lash out at a god that wasn’t listening than it was to admit one’s fear of losing their family. Or to lay blame at Thror’s feet, even. Divine intervention had only been spoken of in those fables a parent might tell their pebble before bedtime, not in the real world.

“If you couldn’t protect them…then how can I–” Thorin cut himself off as he put his back to the makeshift shrine of Mahal, his arms folding tightly in that closed-off stance he was known for in order to emotionally arm himself. It wasn’t enough. Screwing his eyes closed and feeling an unwelcome burn behind his eyelids, Thorin felt as if his chest would explode at any given moment. “It’s too much, I can’t do it.” The burden he bore that Thror didn’t see. The idea that he needed to protect anyone and everyone where his grandfather would not. It felt like he was being suffocated by it all, choking on responsibility and expectation.

“My heart wishes it was elsewhere.” The pitiful admission rocked through Thorin’s entire body like a landslide, nearly sending him to his knees once more out of anguish instead of a desire to pray. His knees never hit the ground, a loud ringing of a hammer against metal rang loud in his ears, like a smith tending to their forge, and that was all Thorin could remember before his dismal world turned completely black–and not because he had screwed his eyes shut, but by another sort of force entirely.

==========

“Helloooo?”

A distant voice called out, barely registering in Thorin’s mind as the world around him was a dark and vacant thing. The scent of something sweet tickled his nose though before something literally tickled his nose and forced his eyes to screw shut even tighter. When his eyes finally began to lessen in how tightly they were closed, they opened slowly to reveal daylight, and a bit of lavender fiddled around at his nose before it was promptly pulled away.

“You’re alive, that’s good.”

Exhausted sky blue eyes moved to look towards the culprit of a plant being shoved in his face, and were met with not that of a dwarf’s, but a curly mop of golden-brown hair, big hazel eyes, and pointed ears. He was by no means an elf, but you didn’t often find halflings on this side of the Bree in his experience–which was minimal at best. Letting out a low moan of discomfort as he lifted his head, one of Thorin’s hands immediately went to his head, shielding his eyes as the world began to spin around him. “Make it…stop…” He whined low as his head was among grass instead of dirt and stone like the campsite he and his people had settled in.

“Don’t move so quickly Mister Dwarf, you took quite a knock to the head judging by the bruising to your temple,” the hobbit cast aside his stalk of lavender to take a seat next to the downed dwarf, examining the bruise in question. “Do you remember what happened? It’s not often we find dwarves on the side of the road just outside Bywater.”

“I’m…by water?”

“No no, you silly thing, Bywater, just beyond Hobbiton! You must have been taking the East Road to the west towards Michael Delving, or perhaps east to Frogmorton?” The hobbit hummed in thought. “Bywater has some of the best lavender stalks on this side of these green hills, but imagine my surprise to find not only the lavender in question but a dwarf taking a snooze among the stems. I suppose that would be a relaxing place to nap, have you ever had lavender tea?”

In Thorin’s opinion, this hobbit did not know when to quit talking, and each word pounded hard like a hammer against an anvil in his head–

”The anvil!” Thorin’s eyes shot open and he sat up far quicker than he should have, his head spinning once more and swirling down to his stomach to make for an uncomfortable jolt to run through his body with another groan of discomfort.

“Take it easy,” the hobbit urged, pressing a hand to Thorin’s shoulder and trying to ease whatever distress was making itself known. “Boy, the lavenders are doing nothing for you…” He mused for a quick moment. “Perhaps mother should look at you, she’s far more knowledgeable about bumps and bruises and dizzy heads than I am.”

“Wait, no, where is the anvil? Where are…my siblings…? Grandfather…”

“The only anvil you’ll find in these parts is at old Hamilton Proudfoot’s smithy! Though he hardly tends the forge these days,” the hobbit’s eyes focused on the dwarf’s distressed look, his own facial expression drooping into something with mild concern about it. “You were separated from your family?”

The words may have been spoken with concern and confusion, but to Thorin, it felt like his heart had plummeted into the pit of his stomach as his eyes dropped. “So it would seem…”

“Oh, you’re…you’re lost.”

The word rang in Thorin’s ears loudly, making his heart pound and ache all at once as it truly sank in. He was nowhere near Dunland, nor the Dimrill Gate, and his family was far out of reach. What happened?

“But don’t worry! Belladonna Baggins is an expert in dire situations, we’ll get it sorted out. Come on–wait. What’s your name?”

Thorin watched as the hobbit, excitable as he was, was on his feet and extending a hand to help him up. The dwarf seated amidst a field of lavender stalks could hardly make any sense of what was going on. But what did he have to lose aside from going along with meeting this Belladonna Baggins character? It was best to be compliant and try to piece the confusing puzzle together one step at a time.

“...Thorin, and you?”

And as Thorin lifted his hand to meet the hobbit’s, those hazel eyes practically glimmered like the most luxurious of diamond mines. “Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins, at your service.”

#raz2k #bagginshield #thilbo #thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #the hobbit #hobbit fic #bagginshield fic #hobbit fanfic #time travel au #but with a twist #fic: sneak peek #maeve writes #maeve wips

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spockandawe · 4 years ago

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Well, this is interesting! So, in that post yesterday, there was one line that really baffled me, a thing about people brushing off a character as an asshole “because he shows literally zero growth.” I kind of set that aside because it was such a weird non-sequitur, and guessed that it was just someone’s sentences not quite keeping up with their train of thought, which has happened to me many times. Apparently I was wrong! I already spent long enough on that one post, I’m tired of talking about that, but this is new and interesting.

Okay. I kind of wanted to see if I could talk about this purely in terms of abstracts and not characters, but I don’t think it’ll work. It would be frustrating to write and confusing to read. It’s about Jiang Cheng. Right up front: This isn’t about whether or not he’s an abuser. Frankly, I don’t think it’s relevant. This also isn’t about telling people they should like him. I don't care whether anyone else likes him or not. But I do like him, and I am always fascinated by dissecting the reasons that people disagree with me. And the process of Telling Stories is my oldest hyperfixation I remember, which will become relevant in a minute.

I thought I had a good grasp on this one, you know? Jiang Cheng makes it pretty obvious why people would dislike Jiang Cheng. But then the posts I keep stumbling over were making weird points, culminating in that “literally zero growth” line.

So! What happened is that someone wrote up a post about how Jiang Cheng’s character arc isn’t an arc, it’s stagnation. It’s a pretty interesting read, and I broadly agree with the larger point! The points where I would quibble are like... the idea that it’s absolute stagnation, as opposed to very subtle shifts that still make a material difference. But still, cool! The post was also offered up as a reason why OP was uninterested in writing any more Jiang Cheng meta, which I totally get. I’m not tired of him yet, but I definitely understand why someone who isn’t a fan of his would get tired about writing about a character with a very static arc. Okay!

Now, internet forensics are hard. I desperately wish I had more information about this evolution, because I find this stuff fascinating, but I have no good way to find things said in untagged posts, reblogs, or private/external venues. But as far as I can tell, that “literally zero growth” wasn’t just a slip of the tongue, it’s become fashionable for people to say that Jiang Cheng is an abusive asshole (that it’s fucked up to like) because he doesn’t have a character arc.

Asshole? Yes. Abusive? This post still isn’t about that. This is about it being fucked up to like this character because he did bad things and had a static character arc.

At first, that point of view was still deeply confusing to me. But I think I figured out the idea at the core of it, and now I’m only baffled. I’m not super interested in confirming this directly, because the people making the most noise about this have not inspired confidence in their ability to hold a civil conversation and I’m a socially anxious binch, but I think the idea is: ‘This character did Bad Things, and then did not improve himself.’

Which is alarmingly adjacent to that old favorite standard of ‘This piece of fiction is glorifying Bad Thing.’ I haven’t seen anyone accusing mxtx of something something jiang cheng, only the people who read/watched/heard the story and became invested in the Jiang Cheng character, but things kind of add up, you know?

Like I said, I don’t want to arbitrate anyone’s right to like/dislike Jiang Cheng. That’s such a fucking waste of time. But this is fascinating to me, because it’s like..... so obviously new and sudden, with such a clear originating point. I can’t speak to the Chinese fans, obviously, but exiledrebels started translating in... what, 2017? And only now, in 2021, do people start putting forth Jiang Cheng’s flat character arc as a “reason” that he’s bad? I’m not going to argue if he pings you in the abuse place, I’m not a dick. I’m not going to argue if you just dislike his vibes. I’m just over here on my blog and in the tag enjoying myself, feel free to detour around me. But oh my god, it’s so silly to try to tell other people that they shouldn’t like him because he has a static character arc.

I want to talk about stories. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to say, because it’s impossible to make broad, sweeping statements, because there are stories about change, there are stories about lack of change, there are all kinds of media that can be used to tell stories, and standards for how stories are told and what they emphasize vary across cultures and over time. But I think that what I can say is that telling a story requires... compromise. It requires streamlining. Trying to capture all the detail of life would slow down most stories to an unbearable degree. Consider organically telling someone ‘I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich’ versus the computer science exercise of having students describe, step by step, how to make one (spread peanut butter? but you never said you opened the lid)

Hell, I’ve got an example in mdzs itself. The largely-faceless masses of the common people. If someone asks you to think about it critically like, yes, obviously these are people, living their own lives, with their own desires, sometimes suffering and dying in the wake of the novel plot. But does the story give weight to those deaths? Or does it just gloss by? Yes, it references their suffering occasionally, but it is not the focus, and it would slow the story unbearably to give equal weight to each dead person mentioned.

Does Wei Wuxian’s massacre get given the same slow, careful consideration as Su She’s, or Jin Guangyao’s? No, because taking the time to weigh our protagonist with ‘well, this one was a mother, and her youngest son had just started walking, but now he’s going to grow up without remembering her face. that one only became an adult a few months ago, he still hasn’t been on many night-hunts yet, but he finds it so rewarding to protect the common people. oh, and this one had just gotten engaged, but don’t worry, his fiancee won’t mourn him, because she died here as well.’ And continuing on that way to some large number under 3000? No! Unless your goal is to make the reader feel bad for cheering for a morally grey hero, that would be a bad authorial decision! The book doesn’t ignore the issue, it comes up, Wei Wuxian gets called out about all the deaths he’s responsible for, but that’s not the same as them being given equal emotional weight to one (1) secondary character, and I don’t love this new thing where people are pretending that’s equivalent.

When Wei Wuxian brutally kills every person at the Wen supervisory office, are you like ‘holy shit... so many grieving families D:’ or are you somewhere between vindicated satisfaction and an ‘ooh, yikes’ wince? Odds are good you’re somewhere in the satisfaction/wince camp, because that’s what the story sets you up to feel, because the story has to emphasize its priorities (priorities vary, but ‘plot’ and ‘protagonist’ are common ones, especially for a casual novel read like this)

Now, characters. If you want to write a story with a sweeping, epic scale, or if you want to tightly constrain the number of people your story is about, I guess it’s possible to give everyone involved a meaningful character arc. Now.... is it always necessary? Is it always possible? Does it always make sense? No, of course not. If you want to do that, you have to devote real estate to it, and depending on the story you want to tell, it could very possibly be a distraction from your main point, like the idea of mxtx tenderly eulogizing every single character who dies even incidentally. Lan Qiren doesn’t get a loving examination of his feelings re: his nephews and wei wuxian and political turnover in the cultivation world because it’s not relevant, and also, because his position is pretty static until right near the end of the story. Lan Xichen is arguably one of the most static characters within the book, he seems like the same nice young between Gusu and the present, right up until... just before the end of the story.

You may see where I’m heading with this.

Like, just imagine trying to demand that every important character needs to go through a major life change before the end of your book or else it didn’t count. This just in, Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg go through multiple novels without experiencing radical shifts in who they are, stop liking them immediately. I do get that the idea is that Jiang Cheng was a ~bad person~ who didn’t change, but asdgfsd I thought we were over the handwringing over people being allowed to like ““bad”” fictional characters. The man isn’t even a canonical serial killer, he’s not my most problematic fave even within this novel.

And here is where it’s a little more relevant that I would quibble with that original post about Jiang Cheng’s arc. He’s consistently a mean girl, but he goes from stressed, sharp-edged teenager, to grief-stricken, almost-destroyed teen, to grim, cold young adult (and then detours into grim, cold, and grief-stricken until grief dulls with time). He does become an attentive uncle tho. He..... doesn’t experience a radical change in his sense of self, which... it’s...... not all that strange for an adult. And bam, then he DOES experience a radical change, but the needs of the plot dictate that it’s right near the end. And he’s not the focus of the story, baby, wangxian is. He has the last few lines of the story, which nicely communicate his changes to me, but also asdfafas we’re out of story. He was never the main character, it’s not surprising we don’t linger! The extras aren’t beholden to the needs of plot, but they’re also about whatever mxtx wanted to write, and I guess she didn’t feel like writing about Jiang Cheng ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But also. Taking a step backward. Stable characters can fill a perfectly logical place in a story. Like, look at Leia Organa. I’m not saying she has no arc, but I am saying that she’s a solid point of reference as Luke is becoming a jedi and Han is adjusting his perspective. I wouldn’t call her stagnant, the vibes are wrong, but she also isn’t miserable in her sadness swamp, the way Jiang Cheng is.

Or, hell, look at tgcf. The stagnant, frozen nature of the big bad is a central feature of the story. The bwx of now is the bwx of 800 years ago is the bwx of 1500+ years ago. This is not the place for a meta on how that was bad for those around him and for him himself, but I have Thoughts about how being defeated at the end is both a thing that hurts him and relieves him. Mei Nianqing is a sympathetic character who’s also pretty darn static. Does Ling Wen have a character arc, or do we just learn more about who she already is and what her priorities always were? I’m going to cut myself off here, but a character’s delta between the beginning of a story and the end of a story is a reasonable way to judge how interesting writing character meta is, and is a very silly metric to judge their worth, and even if I guessed at what the basic logic is, for this character, I am still baffled that it’s being put forth as a real talking point.

(also, has it jumped ship to any other characters yet? have people started applying it in other fandoms as well? please let me know if this is the case, I am wildly curious)

(no, but really, if anyone is arguing that bwx is gross specifically because he had centuries to self-reflect and didn’t fix himself, i am desperate to know)

And finally. The thing I thought was most self-evident. Did I post about this sometime recently? If a non-central character experiences a life-altering paradigm shift right near the end of the story (without it being lingered over, because non-central character), oh my god. As a fic writer? IT’S FREE REAL ESTATE. This is the most fertile possible ground. If I want to write post-canon canon-compliant material, adsgasfasd that’s where I’m going to be looking. Okay, yeah, the main couple is happy, that’s good. Who isn’t happy, and what can I do about that? Happy families are all alike, while every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way, etc.

It’s not everyone’s favorite playground, but come on, these are not uncommon feelings. And frankly, it’s starting to feel a little disingenuous when people act like fan authors pick out the most blameless angel from the cast and lavish good things upon them. I’m not the only one who goes looking for a good dumpster fire and says I Live Here Now. If I write post-canon tgcf fic, it’s very likely to focus on beef and/or leaf. I have written more than one au focusing on tianlang-jun.

And, hilariously. If the problem with Jiang Cheng. Is that he is a toxic man fictional character who failed to grow on his own, and is either unsafe or unhealthy to be around. If the problem is that he did not experience a character arc. If these people would be totally fine with other people liking him, if he improved himself as a person. And then, if authors want to put in the (free! time-consuming!) work of writing that character development themselves. You would think that they would be lauded for putting the character through healthier sorts of personal growth than he experienced in canon. Instead, I am still here writing this because first, I was bothered by these authors being named as “freaks” who are obsessed with their ‘uwu precious tsundere baby’ with a “love language of violence,” and then I was graciously informed that people hate Jiang Cheng because he experiences no character growth.

#jiang cheng #mdzs #the untamed #disk horse #long post/#abuse/#only tangentially #but better safe than sorry i hope

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villainsandvictimsalliance · 4 years ago

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OO also also what do you think about bones turning shigaraki's eyes grey?

it was never stated in the manga that his eyes changed colours

AND ALSO ITS MARIE ANTOINETTE SYNDROME IT TURNS HAIR WHITE BECAUSE OF TRAUMA

WHEN DID EYE COLOUR START CHANGING BECAUSE OF IT

>:( MY BABY SHIGARAKI DESERVES BETTER ANIMATION IT ISN'T FAIR

(ps: I was the "they did dabi dirty anon" it somehow turned anon idk how)

some pretty boy to bless your day

(NO BUT HE ACTUALLY LOOKS SO PRETTY)

Bones has history using random colors for the eyes of the characters. For example, I think Iida Tenya used to have red eyes in the official color pages of the manga.

So like I said before, I'm not surprised by this type of choices. I think they did the eye thing because then the red color could be related to Tomura's new more evil nature.

I don't agree with that choice. You see, the white hair does have a reason: it brings Tomura closer to looking like AFO, which foreshadows what is going to happen on the War Arc. Unless they are planning to give AFO red eyes too, I don't think such change was necessary. And like you said, the color of the hair changing has scientifical explanation, but not the eye color.

And yeah, the League of Villains deserved a better animation. Which is a shame, because this immediately brings down the whole anime as an adaption. You see, this arc was fundamental to understand the foundations of the main plot and theme, but since we got a butchered version, many anime only fans are going to struggle seeing the importance of it.

Thank you for the Tomura pic 🥺🥺🥺🥺

I adore him so very much. ALSO THE ANIMATION ONLY MAKES HIM PHYSICALLY LOOK MORE AND MORE LIKE AFO AND THAT'S A CHOICE I DO AGREE WITH. It's terrible and tragic and simply sad. But it's very interesting when it comes to the general narrative.

#Shan's asks #Shan's opinions #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #league of villains #lov #shigaraki tomura #MVA #MVA arc #My Villain Academia #Mha s5 #Bnha s5 #Mha spoilers #Bnha spoilers

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 3 years ago

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The Shadows Between Us

“Reading is my therapy” masterlist

“They've never found the body of the first and only boy who broke my heart. And they never will.” ― Tricia Levenseller, The Shadows Between Us

I'm so glad I finally took The Shadows Between Us off the shelf and read it. I have loved this book, though I have to say it only got 4 stars from me. What can I say, I'm hard to please xD (Unless you are JR Ward) Besides, this book wasn't spicy at all, regardless of all the comments that stated otherwise. Let's not spread fake statements.

(Further notes on fake statements under the keep reading line.)

The story is set mostly in the kingdom's castle, so it doesn't require a lot of world building, which is exactly what I needed. As much as I love my High Fantasy books, sometimes I need a book that doesn't require a lot of critical thinking and imagining. Though it has two different plot lines which encourages you to think, they aren't necessarily requiring a lot of thinking from the reader. And whilst many people said it was an enemies to lovers book, I wouldn't call it that, after all Alessandra needs to be on the King's good side to achieve her goal, so we can't see much of them hating, instead throwing slightly insulting remarks to stay honest with each other as much as both of their plans require.

I really loved Alessandra. You might ask me why. We have so many female characters who are the good ones, selfless, always ready to help. Well, Alessandra is selfish, stubborn and has more than a handful of negative characteristics. She might have done some horrible things that makes her a morally grey character, but she is relatable. I can't relate to characters who are whether perfect or their good traits are smothering their negative traits.

I am a selfish person most of the time. Is it good? No. But it is me. And seeing Alessandra being herself and not apologising for it whilst also supporting her friends regardless of their different views just showed that you are not a bad person just because you have negative traits. Besides, she is a sexually empowered woman, who is not afraid of giving in to pleasure. I feel like we have so many positive characters nowdays, that we forget that people are not perfect. That people make mistakes and can be rude, selfish and quite frankly devious without being terrible people. This of course doesn't mean I excuse what Alessandra did, I'm simply talking about her personality.

The Shadow King aka Kallias was shown to be a morally grey character, but I feel like he was more of a good guy rather than the bad one regardless of the things he had done. He was shown to be intimidating for a whole (even less) chapter and then he was more of a marshmallow if you ask me. I liked him, don't get me wrong, but I think he had more potential and that could have been explored. Especially as the first half of the book is about him not even being present most of the times. Which, of course, I understand is part of the plot but I still think it was a wasted potential.

Whilst I know Leandros is a character that will cause disagreement, I can't even describe how much I loved him. He was possibly more entertaining than both of the main characters together. He was exciting, funny, charming and just the whole package. And yes, I love my bad boys. Once again though, I don't excuse his behaviour so let's not fight over that, I'm simply explaining that his character was very entertaining and kept my interest more than others.

One thing that felt off was the number of dress descriptions we got. I understand it was necessary to show Alessandra's influence, but at the same time, every chapter had one or two whole page of descriptions of dresses which did put me off at times.

Although the plot twist was predictable, it came so late, that I was sitting on needles by the time it arrived. Now many would say that it was only a 3 star read because it was too slow or too fast, or the plot was predictable and the characters unlikable, but overall I really enjoyed it and when I rate a book, I consider how much I enjoyed it, how hard it was for me to put it down and how much I could relate. Therefore that 4 stars for me represents a book that was enjoyable and kept hold of my attention. Besides, I certainly loved the rules of "no touching" because it added a bit of extra to the story. For me it was a good read and I really enjoyed myself whilst reading.

Some additional notes:

I would also like to add that I thought I wouldn't like it, because some idiot told me it was a RH book. I kept putting it off, because I personally always root for one person over the other and so RH isn't my thing. But then I was told that it WASN'T RH by another person, so I stopped procrastinating and went and finally read it. Whoever decided to mention it as an RH, need a dictionary and some common sense.

And to the person who said this was a spicy book... I understand we all have a different scale on how spicy a book is, but... BUT how on earth can you call a book spicy when the main characters can't physically touch for 3/4 of the book and there's no smutty scene at all? Maybe I'm wrong, I'm not going to pretend that I'm right, but I do not consider a book spicy if it has no spice?! Hmm...

#heloise reads #the shadows between us #the shadow king #bookish #bookblr #book recommendations #book recs #book review #alessandra stathos #kallias maheras

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umbralstars · 4 years ago

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TMI post under the cut but I need to rant somewhere.

DWTR: I'm probably some variety of grey Ace, but constantly double guess myself because I'm not "Ace TM" (I hate describing it that way but I don't know what else to describe it as) and various frustrations about life

To cut the story short I have stupid high libido (like to the point it's really fucking annoying, and my ADHD brain likes to fixate on it for some reason. Probably the dopamine idk??) but fuck me if I have sexual attraction to anybody. Maybe to the person I dated for years, but I still could've gone that entire relationship never having sex cause I don't seek it out despite the wildly high libido. I'm definitely romantic cause I have romantic and aesthetic attractions that involve myself, but sexual attraction is completely and utterly different.

I really like reading and writing erotica. But any kind of sexual thoughts always involve fictional characters who are not myself. I really hate the idea of putting myself into my own fantasies like to the point "x reader" erotica (or even g-rated romance, despite being a romantic, cause I just don't like 'x reader' fiction in general. Just not for me) makes me deeply uncomfortable.

However, all that makes me feel like somehow I'm not some variety of Ace cause I don't fit the "never thinks about sex, is probably sex repulsed, etc etc" mold. Like it's completely fine and valid if you do, but it makes me feel alienated from all sides. Cause I do think about it, probably too much depending on how my cycle wants to fuck me over yay being ftm, but it just doesn't involve me. My desire for it to involve me is completely nearly non-existent.

I still got some of the probably stereotypical 'hallmarks' like hating 99% of sex scenes in tv or movies cause the very way I think about sex is completely different, probably, from non-aces (like I need to have a deep emotional connection between two or more people with the right context and build up lest I absolutely hate every second of it. And even then unless the scene is necessary for the plot or themes I wonder why it even exists in the first place. Like PWP is one thing cause that exists to be PWP, but it being attached to something longer and just happening yeah I don't get it). My sexually active friends who aren't ace explaining how they think about sex almost feels like talking to someone speaking a language I haven't studied or just can't understand. I had another point I deleted cause it involves real people and very uncomfortable memories, don't worry nothing traumatic or abusive just uncomfy.

I feels like I don't have or not allowed the right words to express myself when I need to. Like I'm caught in the middle of some kind of ace/non-ace battle I didn't even know was happening until I stepped into the cross fire. I just hate all this exclusionary, identity policing nonsense cause it's genuinely making me feel like I'm broken in every single way. I'm not "Ace enough" to be Ace but I'm not a Sexual person either, so what the fuck am I?!

#vent post #stars' ramblings #what the hell do I even tag this?#do not reblog #but comments encouraged if anyone thinks they can help

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beevean · 5 years ago

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How I’d fix Shadow The Hedgehog (game)

What’s this? The game is already 15 years old and there’s no point into talking about it? Maybe so but I really like this game and I wish it didn’t make so many stupid choices :(

Instead of starting from Westopolis every time you want to take a new route, let the player start from the stage they wish. For example: I completed the 100% Dark route, and I want to take the Miracle of Love route where Shadow gets redeemed by Amy, so I restart from Cryptic Castle and do the Hero mission instead of the Dark one, changing my path from here. Simple as that.

10 endings may be overkill (see below for an idea to make them more bearable), but if you expand on them, most of them could be interesting. Show the full consequences of your actions - oh, you wanted to play the bad guy but chickened out at the very end (Pure Dark-Hero)? Okay, you’ll get an entire cutscene (or an entire block of text à la Forces if the devs are lazy) of Shadow ruling over the Earth as its new misantrophic dictator.

The only endings I really don’t like are the Neutral ones where Shadow out of nowhere believes himself to be an android. It’s stupid because it can easily be disproven (people often say that Shadow could cut himself and see if he bleeds, but I’m sure Omega could also tell if he’s organic or robotic) and because it only makes sense if you reach that ending through Iron Jungle: if you pass through Air Fleet or Space Gadget it seems that Shadow wakes up one day and has a mental breakdown. I’d change the Neutral-Dark route to have Shadow join Eggman’s ranks (because I really want some justice for the poor doc), the Neutral-Hero to be like the Semi Dark-Hero ending (Shadow simply deciding he knows what’s best for himself, not really learning anything), and the actual Semi Dark-Hero ending could be Shadow suddenly trying to repent for his actions, but it’s too little and too late.

Don’t force the player to replay 10 times to get the final ending. I’d personally remove the Last Story entirely because it ruins the point of the game in many ways, but if it’s really necessary to keep that Devil Doom fight, it could be integrated into the Pure Hero-Hero ending, as a bonus.

Have the ally dialogue in the game reflect your choices. For example, Rouge in G.U.N. Fortress should sound dejected, disappointed and desperate to bring back what little good Shadow has left in his heart; Black Doom in Final Haunt shouldn’t ask for Shadow’s help as if he didn’t ignore him for almost the entirety of the story, he should express his anger and frame his mission as a “last chance” he’s generously giving him or as a threat. Make them reference past missions if it makes sense. Again, consequences of your actions.

The bosses are a mess. Not only they’re too easy (with the exception of Sonic and Diablon which is just annoying), the ones in the middle of the game don’t take in count the mission you’ve beaten before (typical example: Shadow helps Black Doom but he still summons Black Bull to kill Shadow) and the ones at the end need to be far more than just 3 for 10 endings. Either move some of the mid-game bosses at the end of the paths (the Egg Breaker would be a better last boss than the Egg Dealer, and the Blue Falcon would be fun to fight in Cosmic Fall), change the dynamic of the battles depending on the ending (Black Doom could take advantage of the different environments and situations in G.U.N. Fortress, Cosmic Fall and Final Haunt), or come up with new battles entirely (for example, you could face just Sonic at the end of the Pure Hero-Dark path since they’re both children at heart).

The enemy system needs to be reworked entirely. First, make so that they attack you depending on the ally you have - aliens don’t shoot at you if you’re with Black Doom, G.U.N. soldiers don’t shoot at you if you’re with Sonic or one of his friends, but both of them attack you if you’re alone (it makes sense in-universe that they don’t know if you’re friend or foe and it also compensates for the Neutral missions being the easiest by far). Second, no need for those pointless “kill all enemies to proceed” parts, unless you give the player a way to circumvent them (it happens sometimes, when you can either Homing Attack a row of enemies or drop to kill the enemies of the opposite faction, but not often enough). Third, related to the previous point, no more bullshit like what happens in Cryptic Castle or Mad Matrix - I shouldn’t be forced to kill enemies that earn me scolding at best and harm my score at worst. And especially no more completely idiotic parts like what happens in Glyphic Canyon.

While I would just remove Black Doom entirely because who cares about him, that would change the plot too much. I’d rewrite him to put more focus on his creepy “we’re saving humans by turning them into cattle” mentality and on his implied mind control abilities (like the way he toys with Shadow in The Doom) and by giving him more funny quirks - the one time I liked him was when he got scared of the thunderstorm at the end of Sky Troops, lol, give me more Black Doom not understanding how Earth works

You want an edgy game? Fine. Go really all the way. Make a parody of cheesy action movies. Make the players laugh intentionally. Cute little Shadow with a gun twice his size should be the entire vibe of the game.

I don’t mind most of the “kill all enemies” missions (some of them are really cathartic), but to improve them I think that at least there should be some spares - for example, the mission wants you to kill 20 enemies, but there are 30 in the level. A radar would also work fine, especially in labyrinthine levels like The Doom. But in any case, I’d like more missions as fun as Circus Park Hero, or missions where you simply take a different path like Space Gadget Dark.

why did you promote the bike so much if it sucks ass, fix that and the car while you’re at it, or better yet don’t put them and leave the vehicles that do something special like the high-jumping walker

Make the game a little prettier :( almost every level is so ugly to look at. Use more tropes and colors! Where are the ice levels, the fire levels, the water levels? Why aren’t the jungles greener, why does everything have to be grey and purple? I don’t ask for a Sonic Heroes aesthetic, but an Adventure/2 one would work well.

Feel free to add anything else I might have missed!

#sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sh #not touching the plot itself because it's such a mess i wouldn't know where to start #and anyway i sorta like it in a so bad it's good way

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smolbeandrabbles · 5 years ago

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Dangerous Kind - Killian x Reader (Spies In Disguise)

GIF CREDIT: X

Author’s Note: Whoops-!

Well here’s one from January - all things considered this man made a come back. He was in the box a shorter time than I expected, but hey, I’ll take it!

Disclaimer: SiD characters not mine / gifs not mine - credit as appropriate / lyrics not mine

Premise: As an Undercover Agent you know what you’re doing - even though at the end of all this you’re going to have to take him down. It should all work out, unless the Agency jeapodises its own mission...

Words: 4424

Warnings: threat / injury detail / mild swearing

______

You got me in this situation You got me backed against the wall Caught in a web of your creation I bet you set me up to fall You gotta shady reputation Once you deliver your temptation No one can stop your master plan Don't try to lie about it I don't believe a thing you say The more you try to hide it The more the lies show on your face You're the dangerous kind Now look at what you've done to me What you've done to me baby You've gotta criminal mind Your motive is to plant the seed Now I'd kill for you baby You're the dangerous kind I've been sleeping with the enemy Now I'm doing the time Paying up for the crime Guess you took everything you could from me

---

Your mission was simple. Always was, always had been. You liked working for the Agency, you’d been a young cadet once – bright eyed and eager. Got in a little too many bumps and scrapes which got you well known as reckless. That recklessness helped you rise through the ranks though – because you were prepared to take risks no one else would; both to stop people and save people. You supposed you were glad you weren’t I the same class as Lance Stirling – having opted for a different career path through the agency, but like Lance Stirling you were the best at your job – and you also believed in flying solo. You’d been offered to head a team many times; but that meant pulling you back from the field and you had way too much fun in the field to want to leave it. And you at least had good reason to fly solo. You were a covert agent. And instead of sneaking around trying to stop the bad guys, ending with a massive showdown that made you a hero and got you all the glory, you infiltrated to take them down from the inside. To anyone else – you were the bad guy. You only contacted the Agency twice – to receive a new assignment, and once the assignment was done, but under no other circumstances did you have contact with Agents. That kept them safe as well as you, and you knew how dangerous this was, but you were good at it. And that’s what mattered. A few years back you’d been sent to uncover facts about a plot manifesting in Kyrgyzstan; before you’d got a chance to go out there, Lance Sterling had gone and taken it out himself. Through some twist of fate, whilst working something for Katsu Kimura (you had to keep up apparencies!) you’d met the sole survivor of that very incident. He referred to himself as Killian – although you were fairly certain that was a code name for something else – a tall, handsome, careful Australian man who wanted nothing more than revenge on your Agency for what they had done to him, and everyone he knew. That kind of thing you could completely understand, but suddenly you found yourself in the midst of a plot to destroy both your employer, and all your friends. It made you uneasy. But you knew your job, and you’d damn well do a good one here too.

He made it hard, though. It was just far too easy to fall for him; easy on the eye, mysterious… terribly broken. You could sympathise all you wanted but you knew what it was. You knew it was a full-blown crush. And that led to you trying to find a way to stop this man that wouldn’t lead to him being hurt even more than he already was. As things picked up, you became closer and the more he let you into his world, the more you understood his reasoning. You’d never much been Lance’s biggest fan yourself – his methods didn’t matter to him so long as the job was done. You had always been far more meticulous even when reckless. That led from you suggesting things, and just helping out when you could, to being a partnership. Dare you say a team? And that partnership got closer and closer until one day it got a little too close and you decided that drinking champagne alone together was probably something you should never do again. But then it didn’t become a state of awkward co-workers trying to avoid each other; if anything if might well have helped relieve the tension. And before long you were telling him I love you and meaning it – and on occasion, Killian would even say it back. Deep down you knew it was stupid and probably wouldn’t last. It was your job to stop him after all, but you were allowed to let him be at least a little successful before you really had to step in. And that made him happy. And you made him happy. (Well, as happy as you supposed he got). There was nothing you dreaded more than having to shut him down – than having to betray him back to the organisation that had done this to him in the first place. But you weren’t going to let your emotions run this, and you knew you absolutely could not hesitate when the moment called for it. Killian was far more dangerous than anyone else you thought you’d ever come into contact with; and although you still didn’t know the full details of that fateful day in Kyrgyzstan, you got a pretty good idea of what exactly they could have been up to. So you stood by, as he gained the M9 Assassin, and tested it, meaning you were now holed up in a weapons facility in the middle of the North Sea. That came with its own mixed emotions – because although you did know what your Agency was capable of, seeing a stark reminder of it left you nothing but cold. Why should it surprise you that men like Killian wanted to take the whole thing down? And the M9 was something else entirely. How in the hell did the Agency even think that planning something like that, let alone building it, was a good idea? You sighed gently, turning away from the mass production line and walking towards the window – nothing but choppy waves for miles and miles. You raised your eyes to the skyline, currently a dull grey and waited. It might have been a long wait for him to get back from Venice but you’d likely stay here until he was back. And then you’d have to make your choice – because if he got ahold of that agent database and enacted his plans, it would be game over…

*** The problem was waiting for the right moment. Standing by whilst he lectured Lance about the how and why wasn’t it, and neither was the targeting system coming online considering you were surrounded by 1000 drones. And by the time they had cleared and you thought it was about the right time, you were already a little too late. Not for the situation. Oh you’d been too late for that for a little while, and you could of course, kick yourself for it. But for yourself. As soon as the room cleared and you thought you might well be able to breathe again, the screen flashed up a warning. Warning: Target in Proximity then it asked him if he still wanted to proceed. You weren’t exactly sure how these drones were going to kill people but you assumed that the warning was because Killian wouldn’t want to be anywhere near it when it happened. For safety reasons. To you it made sense for the warning to come up. Lance was in the room. Though you were sure that Killian wasn’t going to use a Drone to kill him – if kill him at all. Killian however, was confused; “What? Yeah, I told you not to target Lance. What are you talking about?” It took a couple of moments to register, and suddenly you were filled with an overwhelming sense of dread. Shit please don’t tell me that as an undercover agent – with the operations I run I’m still on the damn Agency list!!!

You were. Because as soon as he touched the screen your picture flashed up. And even Lance was perplexed. Oh you have got to be fu- You didn’t even have time to finish the thought before Killian turned to you, light in his robotics red as ever. “YOU-!?!” You looked back to the screen; well – it wasn’t even like you could deny it. It wasn’t even that old of a photograph. And you couldn’t even think of a decent excuse. “Killian, it’s not-” “Not what-!? Not what it looks like-!? Don’t you dare! How can it be anything else?” “The Agency didn’t ask me to… Yes - I work for them, but I chose to work this mission… and I…” He took steps towards you that made you concede them, and suddenly you were backed against the wall. Eyes wide; it was the first time you’d ever really been afraid of him, and what he might do to you. “I love you, that’s never been a lie! I fell in love with you!!” Nobody in the agency was asking you to get close to him by any means necessary and there is no way in hell you’d agree to do that in the first place. But that was ALL that was crossing his face. He might have been angry, obviously angry – but there was an element of hurt there too, that you could possibly have betrayed him like this; “Yeah, like I can believe that-!” “Killian-! Please-! I-” He wasn’t giving you much time to finish anything, as you were ruthlessly yanked from the floor by a drone. “No! No! NO! No! Don’t do this-! I love you-! God-! Please don’t do this---!” Whatever about him made him a good person, made him sympathetic and fragile and sometimes damn near soft towards you was all but gone. There was no way you were getting through to him now. “KILLIAN-!” You screamed as suddenly you weren’t over metal flooring anymore but rocks and ocean. You’d seen him do this to the researcher and never would have dreamed that you would suffer the same fate. “Please…!” Tears stung your eyes but you weren’t sure if that was the salt in the cutting wind, or because the man you loved was about to throw you to your death “…You don’t need to do this.” There wasn’t even a flicker of emotion across his face as he stared at you, maybe even through you, suspended over those unforgiving waves. “No, you see…” His mouth pressed into a hard line, and his eyes narrowed – cold and icy, “I do.” The freezing gusts stole your breath instantly, so as you fell you couldn’t even scream. And he was the last thing you saw.

*** “…Hey… Hey… wake up… Hey, gosh you must have taken quite the fall – Yeah Lovey, I think she’s okay!” Your vision remained blurred and occasionally went black as you tried to focus. Clearly you weren’t quite dead. “Woah-! No I wouldn’t try to move just yet; you’re hurt pretty bad just lie still…” When your senses decided to calibrate themselves, you were staring at a very young man. Messy brown hair and bright blue eyes. “Did you… save my life?” Your voice croaked but it’d have to do, he seemed a little bashful; “Well uh, yeah… I mean I guess I did.” With the limited moment you had you found yourself staring around – the noise of the waves still crashing against shoreline meant you were still on the weapons facility island. “Thank you.” “Oh. I don’t know how thankful you’ll be when you start to feel again, I feel like there’s quite a few breaks and fractures here…” There was a coo from beside him and you found your eyes flicking to a pigeon. He turned; “We better find Lance, and quick! Oh, but we can’t just leave her-!?” No, wait, make that three pigeons. You blinked a couple of times; “Wait, did you say Lance?” His blue eyes widened; “Yeah-!?” “You’re with the Agency-!?” He didn’t look like an agent – and if you thought it wouldn’t be terribly painful to laugh you might well have. “Y-Yeah-! Walter Beckett, I mean I work in the science labs but… you’re with the Agency.” You decided to shift your body up, resting on your elbows, taking it a little at a time; “Agent L/N. Covert Ops. Infiltration. This is the first time it hasn’t worked out.” You cracked a smile, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Walter.” Then winced as a sharp pain shot through your side, “Woah-! I told you not to move!” “I’ve always been just a tad reckless…” But you laid back down, “Lance is up there.” You nodded, “He’s pretty tied up right now. You gonna be able to save him.” “We’ve got this!” Walter smiled “Don’t worry-!” “You and your… pigeons?” You couldn’t really help the disbelief in your voice “Mhm-!” but he seemed confident; “Trust me, this is nothing compared to my day-!” He stood; “We’ll stop him L/N.” “Y/N. Call me Y/N.” That only made him beam; “I’ll contact the Agency, Y/N-! They’ll be here soon I promise!” “Thanks, Walter.” Then you did laugh; “You take your pigeon friends and end this-!”

Walter wasn’t wrong and before long further agents arrived and you did indeed receive medical attention.

You’d certainly have to thank the kid later; you knew you owed him your life now. But your body was also incredibly broken, and you knew you’d be stuck in rehab for a little while before you got back to work. But you couldn’t help but worry about Killian, what would the Agency do to him? What would Lance Stirling do to him - you knew the man’s reputation, after all. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t tried it once before.

What about what would happen if you had to face Killian again? You weren’t so sure you could handle that well.

***

You’d never wanted to get back to work so much in your life. You’d recovered well - probably pushing yourself a little harder than you should have and were back on your feet in record time. You wanted to see this one through and you knew that Killian was awaiting trial. Joy would let you do that, but she wanted you to continue to rest up as soon as it was all over.

As soon as you stepped out of that elevator and through the security gate - huge smile on your face to see the Agency bustling as ever; considering how different it would have been it Killian had succeeded - you were accosted by the very same young man who had saved your life. “Y/N!!” You couldn’t help but return his hug “Walter-!” Then laughed “Were you waiting for me-!?” “Kinda- I gotta say! It’s good to see you back-!” You thought that was very sweet, considering he’d never actually seen you here “Thank you... but honestly it’s me who should be saying that it’s good to see you... you saved my life!” He looked bashful again; “Oh. I mean, I’m sure you’d do the same, anyone would.” You tipped your head, certain that Walter knew that probably that wasn’t the case. But it was also clear he saw the best in people. You answered with a gentle smile; “Well, I would surely try...” you looked around him, “Where’s your pigeon friends-!?” He laughed; “Lovey, Jeff and Crazy Eyes-!? They’re home! You remember them-!” You folded your arms - “When you wake up thinking you’d died and you see a guy and three pigeons I think it’s pretty hard to forget... and Lance?” “Around, I’m sure.” “Uh huh... I heard it was all a little unconventional...” You made him walk with you as you spotted Joy waiting for you at the other end of the main lobby area “Unconventional sure-! But pretty awesome-!!” “You came up with all the gadgets too?” “Mhm-!” “So I guess I better start commissioning you for my stuff too, huh?” “Oh I dunno... you’re the covert one.” “True. Could come in handy...” You paused your walk and turned to him, “I’ll have to keep in contact - Walter! For sure!” “Or-! Maybe you can join our team-!?” “Your team?” “Lance and I, we have a team of agents now - oh this is all really new but-” He hesitated at the puzzled look on your face, “No?” “...Let me discuss this one with Joy-!”

By this time, you were in front of her; “Agent L/N.” “Joy” you folded your hands in front of you and dipped your head respectfully; “Thank you for allowing me to see this through.” “My pleasure. I believe you would be the one to know the most about this man, given your mission.” You nodded, wondering if she’d want you to speak at trial. You hoped not; how you were ever supposed to go back to what you did when this could well be publicised. “Therefore, we’d like you to keep an eye on him and escort him to trial. No one knows him and his movements better than you do.” You really hoped you didn’t look shocked - and you didn’t dare protest. That would mean you had to see him again- right?! Shit! How would he like that? Let alone you? Did he know you weren’t dead-!!? Although you were sure someone would probably let slip that the agent he tried to kill survived. “Yes M’am-!” You gave a nod, you needed to be prepared - If seeing this whole thing through meant being in proximity again, then you would simply have to bear it. He’d tried to kill all your friends after all - you couldn’t start being soft now. Besides they might know that you knew him, but they didn’t know your history - your romantic history. If you could keep your feelings in check it would all work out okay, and Killian would receive the justice he deserved.

“Good. We head to trial in few days. Let’s bring you up to speed...” ***

Killian wasn’t all that surprised to see you. Or, he didn’t look it at least. You assumed someone would have told him that you survived – you wondered what his immediate reaction was, was he relieved? Was he angry that he hadn’t managed to do the job? Either way, his face was anything but stoic, torn between staring at you so hard he was seeing right through you, like you weren’t even there – and he probably wished you weren’t, and looking like he was ready to murder you. Twice. You gulped, unsure now you were in front of him just how good of an idea this was. But it was certainly a little too late to back out of this now. You instructed the guard to hand over all the keys, and made the mistake of telling him you could handle this yourself. He looked sceptical; “But, Y/N, he did throw you out of a window.” You folded your arms, knowing that wasn’t EXACTLY what went down. “I can handle this.” Your voice was cool “But M’am-” “I can HANDLE this myself.” Your glare at least made him give up. “Fine, but remember the cameras are on him.” “I haven’t been doing this as long as I have to lose this one.” Then you turned back to Killian, still giving you that same look, and jerked your head. “Let’s move.” Killian sighed, which was as verbal as he’d gotten and followed you, turning back to smirk at the guard – which had him immediately reaching for his comms. “This one?” The smooth Australian accent cut the air with about as much venom as he dare give you. You ignored him, falling back behind him – but he kept walking the straight corridor and didn’t stop. “Not so talkative now, huh?” “Shut up.” “Oooh. I see.” “You tried to kill me, what are you expecting me to say?” “I figure with our history there’s a lot to say.” “SHUT. UP.” “They don’t know.” He stopped so suddenly, that you were only saved from crashing into him by your reflexes, and you scowled. Killian half turned, smirk renewed; “Do they?” “What happened between you and I is hardly relevant.” “Is if I bring it up at trial.” You opened your mouth, decided against it, and grabbed his arm roughly. You had a strong grip, he’d give you that, though he’d probably expect nothing less than a spy trained by the Agency “Don’t you dare.” “Or what?” You squeezed his arm even harder to the point where he winced and dragged him around the corner to a set of double doors that would lead to the armoured truck with which you’d drive him to the Agency trial. “You’ll be lucky if you get there at this rate.” “I figure I should be the one more upset here.” You scoffed again, yanking him back as you awaited the door to open automatically; guards flanked your walk to the car. “If you had your way, I’d be dead.” Even he couldn’t come up with a good comeback to that.

You loaded him in the back and attached his cuffs to the bench, before eyeing him suspiciously; “No funny business. I’m watching you.” His eyes searched yours for a moment and you stood still for a little too long; Killian raised an eyebrow; “You still think about it don’tcha.” “W…What?” “Me and you.” Then he smiled, and it was a real smile – nearly gentle, not malicious and certainly not a smirk. “Don’t ya?!” “Would you not be satisfied until I admitted it to you-!?” He sat back, look pointed. You’d walked right into that one – and suddenly you found yourself flushing. But his head tipped, “I’m glad I’m not the only one.” “W…” You were about to repeat yourself and stepped away pointing at him; “I know what you’re doing and it’s not gonna work!” “What am I doing, pray tell?” “Manipulating me. It’s not going to work, Killian. You’re going away for a very long time.” You hopped out of the back and glared at him again as you prepared to slam the door on him; “And I’m gonna make sure of it.” **

I’m glad I’m not the only one. Those words echoed in your head as you drove. And you started to drum your fingers on the steering wheel, biting your lip. After a while you were checking your rear view mirror a little too often – he was hunched over, and quiet, alone with his own thoughts. But every so often he’d look up and those startling blue eyes would catch yours – and he’d give you that smile again. You could barely tear yourself away – and yet at the same time couldn’t pull your eyes from his fast enough; and he had you heating up again. Your internal fight lasted nearly the whole journey. Your resistance waned but was surprisingly strong – although you knew it’d eventually break. And you could have done a billion things, called for an escort. Called for backup. Called Joy and apologised profusely but also said maybe you weren’t ready. Take the blame – maybe not come back until all this was over. You wouldn’t see it through – but at what cost were you about to ‘see this through’? You weren’t, and as you slowed the truck to a stop, you knew that your reckless streak was back. You didn’t hear Killian ask you why you’d stopped or what you were doing, as you rounded the vehicle. This was middle of nowhere USA territory – lots of things could go wrong out here. And no Agency cars for miles. They were either all already there, or so far behind they’d never catch on. You unlocked the back of the truck, and waltzed up to him. Killian regarded you uncertainly for a minute; “Think I’ll make good on my threat?” He chuckled, “You just gonna kill me now?” “Do what you couldn’t?” You laughed, “Maybe, and I’d do it a damn sight better.” Instead, you reached forward and pressed the release button on his handcuffs, stepping back. “Ah. Ooops.” He looked to his hands for a minute; raising them slowly – out of the cuffs his robotics weren’t disabled, and the red and blue lights shot through them again. But when he raised his eyes to your face again, his look told you he thought you were insane. “Why?” You folded your arms, thinking it was pretty obvious, and also not wanting to answer as he rose from his seat. But Killian’s eyes narrowed – and left eye changed from blue to red; “Why-!?” He growled it, not liking to be ignored. You gave a soft sigh; “Because I can. And I love you.” He took a step forward that was supposed to be menacing, but didn’t faze you; “I could kill you. Right now.” And he could certainly make good on that, this you knew. Eyes flicking momentarily to his machinery. But you knew him, and he’d shown his hand as much as you had. You met his eyes again, confidently; “You won’t.” “I already tried.” Fact, perhaps. But he’d failed, and didn’t seem to mind so much about that. “You won’t.” “They’ll know.” Killian smirked; “No way a smart girl like you would go to prison for me.” “I know my skill set. All its gonna look like is you did something to cause a car crash and you escaped… By the time they get here, you’ll be long gone.” You nodded to the open back door, “So I’d go get your head start.”

But he didn’t move, not for a few minutes, and you were about to get annoyed at him for not accepting your charity – before he rushed forward and pretty soon you found yourself pinned up against the wall again, his lips on yours. You couldn’t help but instinctively close your eyes to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, fingers in his hair. It wasn’t a long kiss, but still one you were going to savour, and as he released you, you knew his thank you wasn’t about to be verbal. That was it. You both gave each other the same understanding smile, before he turned back to the open door, walking slowly forward. Killian paused, letting the wind tousle his hair, and took a deep breath, before turning back to you. “Y/N… I…” You shook your head, wanting that sentence to go unsaid as much as he wanted to say it. “Catch you later.” He smirked, “You might...” With that he hopped down, and giving you a nod, took off. You stood where you were for a minute or two, smile on your face – before walking out of the truck yourself. You turned this way and that, but he was gone. Disappearing just like that… A little piece of you was disappointed. But you knew you’d see him again. That much was certain. You looked back to the truck, thinking you better get started, but gave one last glance to the desert around you. No, Killian, I will.

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Thank you for reading! ❤

#Killian #Tristan McFord #Spies In Disguise #Killian x Reader #Killian x You #Tristan McFord x Reader #reader insert #linzi writes #smol bean drabbles #And we're done #and I can take you out of my notes #I can only apologise.#But I think it's better this way.#Maybe I'll return eventually. I will never say never...#Considering I've said that before-!#But for now - this chapter is over. On hold. Who knows...#135

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canyouhearthelight · 5 years ago

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The Miys, Ch 77

Ultimately, this chapter was very fun for me to write. I got to expand the universe the story takes place in, write a type of chapter I have sorely missed writing, and also further the plot. It’s a win all the way around!

Also, the winning submitter for the name of the colony will be announced on February 21st, with the actual name they submitted being written into next week’s chapter, so keep your peepers peeled for that!

Edit: Thank you @hypatia248 and @iainkristian for pointing out that I skipped something in my numbering! I’ve corrected it to show that this is chapter 77, not 78.

“Terrans are remarkably resilient, I have noticed.”

I glanced up at Noah with a confused smile. We were taking a walk around the Ark, which we hadn’t done in several weeks. “We’ve almost killed ourselves or each other twice in less than two years. How does that make us resilient?”

They waved one vomu expansively. “That is, partially, the data I am taking into account. For a species that shows a significant propensity for danger, along with a lack of self-preservation that I lack sufficient vocabulary to describe – Wisdom, I do not breathe, that phrase makes no sense – you also display a distinct determination to continue existing. To describe it as paradoxical is what you call an understatement.”

They had me there. “Thanks?”

Noah gave short, low hum that sounded enough like a cow that I had to restrain my laughter. It was their way of trying to grunt, but it still sounded comical. “There are very few species in this galaxy that display both a similar ability to survive and an equal… fragility, for lack of a better term.”

“I’m not fragile!” I huffed, scowling.

“Compared to other sentient species in the galaxy, you are, actually,” they corrected gently. “In fact, it was widely believed for several thousand of your years that sentient species only evolved in two ways: those from extreme environments evolve to be difficult to injure in the first place, while those from gentle environments are easier to injure. Both groups add value to the greater community, but humans are only the third species we have encountered that evolved in extreme conditions but can be injured so easily that you do it every day and think nothing of it.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on, Miys. They’re bruises for crying out loud! Everyone gets them.”

“I do not.”

“You are felled by close proximity to spicy food.”

My words were swatted away with a fair imitation of one of Tyche’s dismissive gestures. “The vast majority of species who can break bones and sustain subdermal bleeding in any manner, similar to humans, are species who also die if they do so.”

That stopped me in my tracks. “Our… Miys, Terran insects are more resilient than that.”

“Indeed.” They nudged me to keep walking. “On the other, far end of the spectrum, you have species such as myself,” they gestured to their midsection. “Hujylsogox are difficult to truly damage, despite what you seem to think. We can survive dismemberment, most extremes in temperature, gravity, even vacuum of space. Incineration or dissolution in corrosive elements are the only things to which we are actually vulnerable.”

That means… “Wait. Your species is from an extreme environment? Terrans used to imagine that our home was a ‘death world’. That isn’t true?”

“Within certain bounds, it certainly is. I fail to imagine a species that cannot be killed by your home planet’s environment, alone, much less the life upon it. You may still consider yourselves ‘Death Worlders’ if you like.” A familiar buzz emerged, one I recognized as a laugh. “But my home is extreme in its own right. Suyfum has a heavily elliptical orbit, alternately too far and too close to our star to sustain atmosphere on the surface. Life only evolved underground, where the temperature fluctuations were less extreme.”

A chirp from my wrist showed a file drop from the Ark, which displayed a visual of what they described. “That’s more like what we associate with a comet than a planet,” I murmured.

One liw bobbed in an approximation of a human nod. “The principle is similar, yes.”

Still staring at the simulation, I asked the question that was poking around at the back of my head. “You said we are the third species in the known galaxy that fall in the middle?”

“Third sentient species, yes.”

“What are the other two like?”

A brief hum. “The So-K’nor are a warm-blooded species, predatory in nature. Their home world, So-K’n, is an ice planet with no tectonic activity. They evolved to hunt and communicate by scent, and in the larger galactic community serve largely in their capacity for being able to locate almost anything.” I nodded in fascination and gestured for them to continue. “The other is the Preeyar, an avian species. They are largely herbivorous, hailing from Aiorous.” Another beep had me flicking open my datapad again. What I saw made it clear why Miys had sent the video rather than trying to describe it...

Aiorous had been, for lack of a better description, smashed at some point in its history. The main surface was covered in volcanic activity, most of which boiled on what appeared to be the side that was hit. Radiating out from the point of impact were cracks filled with swirls of yellow, through which peeked hints of purple. “How…” I gasped.

“Life on the planet exists in the rift valleys. When the Preeyar were still primitive, Aiorous collided with a comet nearly half its size. Due to subsequent geothermal and tectonic changes, there was only enough atmosphere left in the valleys for anything to survive.”

“And yet they fly,” I murmured in amazement.

“They persist,” Miys confirmed. “All three of your species persist. Even when injured, or ill, or when your homeworlds are inhabitable for your own kind, you demand to continue living.”

“Can any of them see?” I had to know.

“They cannot. The Preeyar, much like myself, use sound as a means of perception. So-K’nor use scent and tactile stimulus to gather data; they can hear, but too well for most situations, and are easily overwhelmed. Those who take service among other species often voluntarily undergo deafening procedures.”

That’s horrid, was all I could think at the moment. Just as I was about to ask another question, a group came around the corner we were approaching and collided with us. “I am so sorry,” I started automatically, only to be brought up short by their expressions.

The one who had walked, full speed, into Miys swiped at his clothing and sneered, as though someone spilled something on him. The woman I was apologizing to eyed me up and down before turning her nose and shoving past me. I gaped as they all pushed through, their disgusted looks and suspicious glances the only acknowledgement they made of what happened.

Stunned, I couldn’t even find the words to shout after them for being so rude. Miys’ voice snagged my attention. “Wisdom, it is my understanding that, when humans invade another person’s space in such a manner, the custom is to apologize?”

“What? Yeah… Yes, Noah, that’s the custom in most Terran cultures I’m aware of.” Wrenching my gaze from the now-empty corridor, I focused the attention back on my friend. “That was… so weird.” So rude.

“You may want to discuss the encounter with Head Nurturer Costa, Wisdom.”

“Antoine? What - why? They weren’t that rude.” At least, I didn’t think they were. Not enough that I needed therapy.

“Did you not have the proximity update made to your translation implant?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Under protest, but yeah.” The subject was a bit of a sore spot, honestly. Tyche refused to do it unless I did as well, and Conor and Maverick were nagging me to take better care of myself, so I agreed to go through the necessary medical approval - from someone other than Antoine or Grey - to see if I even qualified for the update.

Wait. The software to broadcast the beacon required medical approval, but the software to receive the proximity alerts wasn’t optional, and had recently gone ship-wide after thorough testing and unanimous approval by the Council. “You mean, they ignored the alert?”

“Negative, Wisdom.” They were using my ‘name’ a lot. Usually that meant bad news.

“Then how did that happen? I mean, they should have had a screaming alert that they were going to walk into me.”

“I had no indication of the distress ordinarily caused by the proximity alert. They did not receive the notification.”

My stomach sank as I processed that information. “Could they have disabled it?”

“I am unsure.” Their vomu and liw alike spread in a very human shrug - times three. “When I first arrived at your planet, eleven of your years ago, I would not have believed any of your people capable of understanding the technology on the Ark. Eighteen Terran months ago, I believed it even less. However, I have been proven incorrect to the point of embarrassment, were I capable of feeling such.”

“I need to speak to Antoine.”

“You need to speak with Antoine.”

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#the miys #humans are weird #original scifi #earth is a deathworld #aliens #found family #apocalypse #earth is space australia #humans are space orcs #original writing #my writing

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geekkatsblog · 5 years ago

Text

Grey's Anatomy Season 16x17 review.

What a messed up episode it was. So starting from the most messed up and going down.

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Tom Koracick He gets a section tomhimself today because honestly, his life is starting to get really complicate as was expected seeing that he's at Grey Sloan. Him and Teddy, somehow or the other I feel he's going to have the worst part of this stick. Teddy has Been in love with Owen since she even arrived at the hospital in season 6 (or 5 can't remember too clearly), but after loving someone for so long, chances are she isn't going to leave him now. She was hurt and scared because Owen could possibly have another child and he drops her like a hot potato for anyone so, with all her feelings she went to Tom and he of course slept with her because, he loves her a surprising amount. I wish that he could find the strength to tell her no, because he's going to wind up hurt and with the way everyone treats him. He's going to really be in an emotional hole after it all. As for him and Mr Billionaire. I always used to imagine scenarios like the one he proposed to Tom, but probably in a spy movie I didn't actually expect Tom to do it. He's going to end up using the money for his lawyer bills because he's not even going to have a chance if he's found out. His licenses will be gone and so will his life. He'll end up in jail along with the billionaire. Who is clearly one of the dumbest geniuses I've ever seen. All of that because he's made a mistake and could be arrested. If his plan is found out he'll be as ruined as Tom. I don't like where that case is going. I like Tom but I don't think he should risk anything for that man who clearly thinks he's the s**t and I can definitely see Tom's emotional Grey's spiral coming. I wish him the best of luck.

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Teddy I think we should check her for a tumor or a mental illness as well because I don't know what happened to her. I would have never expected Teddy to be like this. She was one of the most respectable women on Grey's. I know that she was emotional but she has been pinning for Owen for Years and years and she didn't even think to talk to him? Come on Teddy and she's using Tom, Maggie's speech was spot on she's sleeping with Tom who is madly in love with her when she knows she loves Owen, like leave Tom out of it sleep with someone else. And her reaction when she told Owen that Amelia's baby could be his and she asks him where does that leave them. He apparently took 5 seconds to long and she walked away, come on Teddy..... you just told the man that he could possibly be the father of a 3rd baby and with another woman all under the under the age of 3 and you're upset he took 5 seconds before answering, now I'm no Owen fan but Jeeze give the guy some time to process before making assumptions and what she said about Amelia, thank God for Maggie because her reasoning for being angry at Amelia was crap, especially because she did the exact same thing with Owen so the real loser here is Owen and Tom. She needs to pull it together soon because I'm sure this isn't over even though Owen isn't the Father.

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Owen Karma's a bitch I guess I almost feel sorry for him, this is the best he's been in any relationship. He's in yet another love triangle with the same woman but this time he's not the one being chased. I also want to talk about his old school way of life. Why the he'll should Teddy have to plan the wedding herself, it's like Christina not wanting to have kids all over again. She's a surgeon and a mom, both of those things are full time job. You still plan your wedding with the wedding planner except they do all of the running around for you.if he wants a planned wedding so much he should do it himself and Teddy needs to learn to say no she's going to stress herself planning a wedding the same way she did making Halloween costumes.

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Richard Yet another painful one, not only is he quitting surgery he's also pushing the people who care about him further and further away. He was so angry I almost thought that he would have had to be committed. I am praying that Webber is not leaving as well even if he's not doing surgery he should teach or something Bailey was right the hospital needs him and the show sure as he'll does as well. He wants to sell his paths pen, do you Webber but ,make sure you come back. Maybe he'll make enough money that Catherine doesn't feel like she can buy him anymore. Where the he'll Is Catherine anyway? She's doing everything behind the scenes and as usual Bailey has to take the fall.

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Link/Amelia Yay, I think we can safely take Amelia out of the Owen, Teddy, Koracick thing because her and Link are back together and even better Link is the father. While I still don't agree with how the whole thing was handled I'm just glad that they're together again and the whole Amelia, Owen thing isn't going to start again. No more children deserve to be involved in that mess. Not to mention now we get to see more daddy Link. I know that they're going to definitely have more struggles along the road I mean after all this is Grey's but I at least hope that no more of those problems will include Owen Hunt.

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Jo Didn't know which last name to call her anymore. She's in a bad mood understandably but not in her need to get committed mood, which I'm glad for. The actress in real life is pregnant and I'm just wondering how that's going to be played off. It can't be written in that wouldn't make any sense but I was wondering if they're going to make Jo take some time off. She would definitely deserve it. I'm glad that she's not spiralling too much at least not yet. She's in a funk but like she said she'll pick herself up because she knows she deserves love.

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Deluca Is talking to a shrink but doesn't really think he needs it and coming from experience that's never a good thing. I hope he realizes it soon before it ruins him and based on some spoilers I read its not seeming too likely.

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Meredith Isn't in the mood to talk about her feelings, she was hit on by a billionaire and rightfully angry at the world because the woman who had to ration her insulin because she couldn't afford was heartbreaking. I live in a country where most health care and medication is free or at a reasonable price unless you choose otherwise so I couldn't imagine how hard it is to be unable to get the health care you need so that was hard to watch. Meredith was also right to be pissed off that some billionaire just decided that he doesn't want to accept responsibility and cleared a whole hospital floor to do it. (Even if Catherine was the one to do it). She misses Alex and had yet another conversation with Bailey (this is the most I've seen them talk this whole series.) And they basically express how everyone is leaving or dying and it's lonely without them and nothing else have ever been more accurate. The amount of life and family togetherness that was in the beginning of the series definitely isn't there anymore.

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Bailey Was just there being concerned about Webber, I felt for her when Webber started freaking out and throwing stuff you could seen her internal struggle between staying with him or doing her job. I hope they aren't going to make her lose her work husband and basically the only person at Grey Sloan who would stand up for her. And she needs to stand up to Catherine that woman has been throwing her under the bus for too long.

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Jackson Broke up with his girlfriend Vic.............. I have no idea if to feel bad or happy. I don't really watch Station 19 unless if it has Bailey or is necessary to watch in order to understand what's going on in Grey's as well as the first 6 episodes of season one that I watched so I have no idea what was going on with them. I kind of picked up that she got kicked out of her home and moved into Jackson's place without telling him. But what's don't get is the reactions he was upset that she moved in and I understood because who moves into someone's place without asking but now she moves out and he's upset and for stupid reasons. Dean her new roommate/boatmate once hit on Maggie when they were together and he didn't know. She's going to help Dean raise a baby. The man's a new single father to a newborn I don't think he has time to steal someone's gf. But thank God I no longer have to hear the stupid argument again because they broke up well he broke up with her. Props to her to waiting around all day so he could do it though. Jackson is one of the characters who started off as one of my favorites but has now made his way to the bottom of the list.

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Maggie The usual cheerleader, when are they going to finally give her a plot that isn't cheering someone on, being annoying or a plot that lasts 5 seconds. It's almost like she isn't even there. Give the girl a good plot for God's sake, she shouldn't just be a cheerleader. That being said, she was spitting facts today with Teddy though and she's probably going to spill Teddy's secret because shes bad at keeping secrets thats a potential hot mess in the making.

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End notes and questions

What the Hell is Tom doing??? It's dumb and I hope someone talks some sense into him soon.

What's going to happen to Richard? Is he leaving the show as well? I hope not he's one of the only good things left.

Is Deluca going to be ok? He's got to admit he needs help soon.

And last but not least, What will happen to the hot mess that is Owen and Teddy?

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writerman · 5 years ago

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Ok, so consider this as a prompt. Garrett’s a merman who gets saved by Aro who found him too far on the beach to flop back to the sea. For the time being, he keeps the fish dude in the bath-tub since going back to the sea would be a bit too dangerous. Not to mention that it was pirate territory as well and much too dangerous for any merfolk to swim into.

First of all, thank you for sending me an Aro x Garrett prompt I really appreciate, second of all, this got out of hand so enjoy roughly 4000 words of this because there will be more as I have had to turn it into a multi-chapter fic because I can't stop writing.

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A storm had ravaged the coastline for the best part of 4 days, all ships had docked and the port town that was normally a bustling hub for merchants and visitors lay near empty and silent.

The golden sands of the coast side ran for miles, from the port town, past villages, fields of wheat and then the ancient forests met the sea and no roads travelled through. Towering sentinels growing ever closer to the sealine all the while stretching out far off into the distance. A blanket of green across the land.

Now those golden sands were littered with driftwood and branches brought up from the coastal forest, and scavengers would likely be out in force once the driving rains and galeforce winds had settled to something less fatal.

Aro lived alone on the edge of the port town, between the villages, on a large plot of land bought by his family centuries ago. One hundred acres of grassland, woodland and a fishing pond- the large and ominous mansion settled at the edge of it all its imperious gaze watching silently over the lands in its possession. It was all very impressive to a degree but ultimately it wasn’t used for anything and was more a status symbol than anything else.

The windows had been shuttered for days and Aro was starting to forget what daylight looked like, his only company night and day was the howling of the wind smashing against the shutters, the rumbling thunder growing into a wrathful roar from the bruise purple skies above.

A morning came when the weather seemed calm and Aro shrugged on his black wool coat, a pair of leather gloves shoved into the pocket, and made his way out into the dull and wet world.

There was no one out so early in the morning and relishing the bracing breeze Aro made his way down to the beach. He would be the lone figure breaking the grey line of a restless ocean clad in black looking out at a horizon that bled sea to sky.

At first, he could scarcely distinguish between driftwood and seaweed brought up upon the sand from the storm, but he knew something wasn’t quite right, something inside him pushed the feeling of alarm to the forefront of his mind before his eyes could sort out the trigger.

What he found himself looking at suddenly was a man lying in the sand half covered in an old fishing net that seemed tangled around his arms neck. The did not appear to be moving and Aro took a step back realising he shared this spot with a corpse.

It was in his best interests to just leave the poor soul to be found by another. What business did Aro have going to investigate the man lying in the sand? Cause of death? Likely the fishing net strangled the life from him and that was that.

An awful way to go and surely someone would be missing their husband, brother, son but that was not for Aro to dwell on, he’d never seen him before in his life.

It was at that moment he realised that his feet, unbidden, had led him closer to the corpse and he had to consciously stop himself from crouching down to investigate further but the gleam of scales caught his eye and everything began to make less sense.

It couldn’t be that he had stumbled upon someone half-eaten by a giant fish… had he?

Why would you think something so ridiculous? Aro mocked himself as he crouched down to get a better look, his long coat trailing in the sand as he did so.

The creature stirred and Aro fell backwards into the wet sand, his voice caught in his throat, the scream half-formed but never fully realised and eyes wide in surprise as an unsettlingly pale outstretched hand curled into a loose fist and a groan slithered from between dried cracked lips.

He’s alive? Aro could barely form the thought before he was scrambling to his feet and grabbing the outstretched hand. When he tugged there was no yield and Aro cursed quietly under his breath.

Kneeling down in the sand he scanned the net and found it trapped under a rock, something far too heavy for him to move on his own. A knife would have come in handy right then but Aro had never been prepared for such things and men of his reputation did not carry knives.

Searching around Aro finds a jagged piece of broken glass, pulling on his gloves, he gingerly picks up the shard and turns it to the net slicing through the weaker threads as quickly as he could.

The net begins to fall away leaving deep cuts and blooming bruises over the man’s skin where it had tightened in an obvious struggle to free himself. As though the net had constricted his lungs the more they came away the more life seemed to breathe back into the man on the sand.

“Oh, you had better appreciate this when you’re conscious.” The mumbled words fell on deaf ears as Aro continued to complain as he brushes away debris from the stranger’s naked torso.

Shoving aside a particularly large piece of wood Aro stilled his movements almost instantly. Again he stared down at something that did not make sense and he felt something inside him stutter as familiarity bled into unknown and it felt wrong.

Scales glinted in the weak light slick as an oil spill but the iridescent green coiled in the sand slid up over what should have been thighs and hips tapering off to reveal a smooth back littered with bruises.

He knew he was not strong enough to lift the man… fish… and whatever he was it did not take a professional to know they were weak and in trouble. But deep down Aro knew he had to do something if he did not help him scavengers or even pirates would find him and who knew what horrors he would endure.

Checking to ensure he was still alone Aro scouted the beach fretfully looking for anything that might aid him in carrying the wounded creature back to his home and to safety.

Thankfully, he was able to find an old torn sail from a ship that had long seen its end of days dashed upon the rocks that lay beyond the shallows. Those that did not navigate the waters often did not stand a chance against them.

It was a challenge to clear away the broken wood and tangled old fishing nets away enough to lay the sail flat but Aro did it with panicked haste and gently as he could, he rolled the half-conscious creature over onto the stained pale fabric.

If Aro had believed in any Gods he would thank them for he was met with no one as he dragged his find home, it was an arduous task to carry something far bigger than he from the beach to his door. The few minutes it took him to get to the beach was a long distant dream upon his return home.

In the darkened hallway Aro leaned against the door to catch his breath and with shaking hands from the exertion clawed at his coat buttons to remove it lest he immolates himself within it.

He tore the top few buttons of his shirt open and tossed his coat aside to deal with later. His most pressing matter still lay prone on the hallway floor seeping seawater over the dark floor and pervading the air with the scent of the tide.

Taking a cautious step closer Aro could see the creature’s chest rising and falling slowly, their lashes fluttering for a moment but nothing more. If they were internally injured he would be of no use to them and knew no one he trusted enough to help.

“But you must need to be in water…” Aro trailed off and looked up despairingly at the stairs before him. Three sets of ornately designed stairs cases led up to the floor housing the bathroom with a bath big enough for whatever it was on the hallway floor.

A man?

A fish?

With a scoff, Aro considered he could be the mystical fantasy creature known as merfolk but he was not in a fit state to comprehend such a thought fully at that moment in time.

A mammoth task lay before him and he considered for a second just why he was doing this all in the first place?

Throughout the years he had spurned enough lovers to be gifted with the title of heartless countless times. There were no close confidants to speak of, save for the perhaps his doctor but Carlisle would only ever appear on business.

The business being Aro’s health but visits were scarce at the moment and he felt himself quite above feigning illness for company. Books would do and in a pinch, he could always respond to correspondence from his family but that was something he truly loathed to do unless absolutely necessary.

So why did he insist on aiding a creature he had no clue could even understand him, appreciate or even thank him? It truly did puzzle him but the idea of leaving him in the sand at the mercy of scavengers handing off to some circus left a chill spiking down his spine.

It was better not to think of it and just carry on as he was.

Dragging a half man half fish up three flights of stairs had him cursing up a storm under his breath enough that his dear mother would clutch her pearls in disbelief had she been there to hear him.

The bath was filled and the creature dispatched into the marble masterpiece that was the clawfoot tub. Far bigger than what was necessary to the point that even Aro found the opulence of it garish.

However, it was perfect for housing him and Aro left the creature languishing while he wandered off to compose himself and maybe pour himself a shot of something strong. Lord knows he needed it to soothe his aches, after all, Aro would openly admit he had never done a hard days work in his life.

Pampered, preened and preposterously rich meant he hadn’t had to do much of anything growing up. Always with his nose in a book meant no one had bothered him as he was spending time doing something everyone agreed was worthwhile… or so they thought.

The truth of it was that Aro found many subjects interesting and didn’t feel as though it was fair for him to pick just one to dedicate his life to so, in the end, he didn’t select a single one and carried on as he always had.

It left him with nothing to show for it other than excellent general knowledge but that didn’t really get him very far and so with great displeasure he followed his father into accounting which turned out better than expected seeing as he was able to do this from the comfort of his own home most days.

When his father retired he was gifted a list of loyal and very well to do clients that were happy to have the family business continue without a hitch. It was how he first met the Cullen family and Carlise.

Could he trust Carlisle with this aquatic secret floating between life and death in a bathroom upstairs?

Aro had just touched the glass of his drink to his lips when he heard violent splashing above him. Rather than waste the drink he downed it in one before dashing up the stairs, with difficulty, to the door of the bathroom.

The splashing ceased when the creature found he was not alone and for a moment they stared at one another silently. The creature had the face of a handsome man Aro supposed, and a wavy mop of brunet hair and pale skin gave him the look of a person that he could have passed on the street.

Genuinely there was nothing spectacular about him aside from the great leviathan like tail hanging over the edge of the bath gleaming under brighter lights showing off the myriad of colours under the initial green.

“Can you speak?” Aro winced at how timid his voice sounded when he spoke but the emotion was lost almost instantly when the creature scoffed at him.

“Of course the human would believe I was mute.”

Oh, how pleasant, a sassy creature from the deep comes to make his life a living nightmare.

“I found you on the beach tangled in a fishing net, I think you might nearly have died if you were not cut loose.” Pushing aside the desperate need to snap back at him, Aro spoke softly again and stepped further inside the bathroom. When the creature said nothing Aro pushed for more information about him by offering more of his own.

“This is my home, I brought you here because I feared you were injured. Do you have a name?”

For a moment he believed they would not speak again as ire had clouded their eyes to something dark and dangerous but he seemed to deem it necessary to reveal something about himself, and when he spoke his voice rasped all the while a webbed hand massaged his throat where the ropes had bitten in.

“Garrett, and… thank you, I suppose.”

“Garrett?” It didn’t sound all that grand a name for a fantastical creature dragged from the murky depths of the sea.

“Did you want something more in line with your fantasies?” The creature leaned over the edge of the bath, displaying more strength than Aro believed he should be capable of, a slow smirk spread over his lips revealing two rows of jagged teeth and a pointed tongue that ran along the cruel edge of the upper row of teeth almost teasingly.

“Ah, I see. Did you want the dashing merman to pledge his heart to you, reveal a name gifted from the stars above that entwines with yours?” Another scoff before he flopped back onto his back in the large tub. Water splashed up the sides and spilt on to the floor but he paid it no mind as he continued to speak.

“I know you humans are all alike with all that hot blood running in your veins. Can scarcely speak without the need to fuck or fight bleeding into every word.”

It was apparent this merman, as he referred to himself, was not thankful to be rescued and absolutely saw humans as beneath him and while Aro found him so very infuriating already, he also could not help but feel intrigued and, somewhat, mortified at the how his pulse quickened at the way Garrett spoke to him.

Ignorance was bliss but it was also at his mercy in that bathtub should Aro ever have such dark inclinations.

“I feel that all the fantasies you spout may be yours and yours alone, Garrett.” He forced the merman’s name out between gritted teeth but relished in the sight of him faltering for a split second, eyes widening as he glances over to his rescuer.

“Fear not, I am not interested in keeping you here as a live experiment. Forgive me but I wished only to ensure you were well and uninjured before releasing you. Should I have left you for the pirates and scavengers instead?” What a falsely sweet tone he used but it was clear Garrett understood it as something more of a warning because he remained silent for some time before lifting his arm from the water to show Aro a wound red and angry.

“I think there might be something stuck in it but I can’t see anything.” His admission was quiet. Aro decided not to gloat and instead show he could be trusted and so without a word he vanished from the bathroom and returned with a first aid kit amongst other things.

“This will hurt so you have to promise me that you will not lash out because you know I am trying to help you, yes?” Aro’s words were responded to with a short nod and nothing more. A sense of calm had fallen over both of them now that communication had been so easily established.

Thankful that he was not battling with words being lost in translation, Aro got to work on cleaning the wound though he withdrew his hand sharply at the how cold Garrett’s skin was to the touch.

“Of course you’d be cold, I suppose…” It was said more under his breath than as a statement to the creature. However, Garrett had heard and let out a rumbling rasping laugh, the derisive tone not missed by Aro who huffed and moved away from the merman momentarily to glare at him.

“Don’t pretend to know anything about my kind.” Not a warning but Aro took it as one and dropped the subject not wishing to start a full-scale argument with something that could probably tear him to pieces without much effort.

After all, he could not avoid glancing at the claws that curved ever so slightly at the end of each finger of the webbed hand that rested so close to his stomach as he inspected the wound.

They spent a long moment in silence as Aro fished out a good amount of splintered wood from the wound with tweezers. Throughout that silence, many questions came to the forefront of his mind but died on his tongue as he reminded himself that questions were strictly off the table… for now.

Raising the man’s ire was not his top priority as he rather liked his skin unmarred. Again he took the time to reacquaint himself with the claws that grazed the fabric of his shirt and he felt a flush crawl over his skin.

He was a toy at that moment, being so close and so vulnerable, and he allowed himself to be played with. The danger of it all far alluring in a way Aro had never experienced before and how addicting he knew it could become.

“All done,” Aro moved to his feet faster than he liked though purchase was difficult on the wet tiled floor and his boots skidded nearly throwing him off balance. A webbed hand shot out to steady him and Aro had to suppress a flinch born from fear at the sight of the claws extended out and curling around his wrist.

"Careful now. You might hurt yourself in a bid to get away from me." The hand released Aro's wrist and the man took a measured and slow step back. The flush that had snaked it's way up his throat to his cheeks was now fully aflame across his face but Aro stood tall and met Garrett's gaze when he spoke.

"We've no reason to trust each other but I assure you there are no ulterior motives for my having brought you here.

You were in peril, injured and on the brink of death, I think. There was no reason to leave you to die and if you did die under my care at least you would not have been alone.

I would understand should you lash out at me but do not think me a willing target just because I understand your fears of being here trapped and far from your own kind." It gave Garrett something to think about because he did not respond and he was the first to break eye contact busying himself with taking in the room around him for the first time apparently. Taking this as a dismissal Aro turned and left without another word and all but collapsed into bed still fully clothed his shirt stained with the blue blood of his would-be patient.

It was dark when Aro woke again, he had slept the day away. He was greeted by the sound of a raging storm battering at the shutters again. With a groan, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling for a moment as he tried to recall the day’s events that flooded his memory as though rushing water breaking through the walls of a dam.

There was a creature living in his bathroom at that very moment!

Never had he moved so quickly before his feet still clad in boots from earlier that day slammed hard against the wooden floor as Aro threw himself into a standing position and hurried from his bedroom to the now darkened bathroom.

A thought crossed his mind but as he entered the bathroom he found himself, somewhat, disappointed and a sigh escaped his lips. It was answered by the sound of water sloshing around and an unimpressed groan.

“Hm, your misery is so musical.” A voice in the dark called out teasingly and Aro bit back a retort letting his shoulders droop as he did so. “Did you think that I would, perhaps, glow in the dark?”

How had he known?

“No bioluminescence?”

“No, no bioluminescence.” The sound of a smile in Garrett’s tone was surprisingly nice when not tinged with mocking. “Far too dangerous to glow in the dark when you live in the deep and are comprised entirely of delicious meat and bone.”

“I suppose,” Aro replied despondently and he reached up to flick the lights on only to find the whole place was without power. Wonderful. “Oh, lovely. No light.” There would be candles somewhere he assumed but where was beyond him for the moment. Digging them out in the dark would be a pain and it was probably easier to just go back to bed until morning.

“Humans really do rely on something they can scarcely control to see.”

“There’s no need to be rude about it.”

“I’m not rude, you’re the one who still hasn’t introduced himself.”

Of course, he had- no, no he had not. From the moment they met on the beach right up until that very second Aro had been the one without manners and Garrett had known it. Silently lorded over him until he could bring it up and make himself out to be superior.

“You’re blushing again. Did I embarrass you?” Well, at least he now knew Garrett could see in the dark but it didn’t make him feel any better to know he was right. “You’re very pink.”

Yes, he had embarrassed him but Aro wasn’t going to let the merman rub him the wrong way just because he caught him off guard.

With that thought in mind, Aro remained lingering by the door still dishevelled from sleep wondering what was safe to ask the merman because it seemed Garrett was intent on crossing a line he had invented himself but had failed to include explaining to Aro just where that line began.

“How long will you keep me here?” The sudden change in the subject of conversation threw Aro slightly but he refused to be flustered by Garrett again and instead just shook his head.

“I don’t know. Until I know you’re well enough to leave? Until it is safe enough to take you back out to the beach?” It was a question mark hanging in the air between them and neither really knew the answer to Garrett’s question but the merman didn’t seem to mind because he sighed in response no words forthcoming.

After a moment another sigh was heaved into the air by the merman before eventually, he spoke.

“Well, I will just wait here until you have an answer.”

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This is the link HERE if you want to follow the rest of the story as and when it is posted!

#Aro volturi #Garrett Twilight #Garro #Merman Au #MerMay #Twilight fanfic #Writing prompt #Anonymous

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sonderrow-moved · 5 years ago

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LINK TO QUINN LINK TO JAEL LINK TO ROY

LIKE for a preestablished relationship/plotting line with Archer… BUT have at least one category in mind before I hop in your IMs!

I entirely get the urge of wanting to roleplay, expand our muses together, and this is my personal starting pack for Archer! If you’re hooked to one category but don’t think your muse can fit still HMU about it and I’ll see how we can work that out!

REMINDER I HAVE A LOT OF THREADS. Like often a lot. Roleplaying is something that effortlessly really relaxes me, but I am still one human. I like to see all my threads through no matter how long the wait is and do my best ! Thus we might not be threading right off the bat depending on how much stuff I have, but everything established can get into asks, dash shenanigans, etc. What matters is that it shapes our characters. 🙏

BUSINESS PEERS. Archer’s professional and very efficient work ethic made him notorious in unspoken matters as someone who will get things done with no needs of public recognition… which would lead to inner, private and ultimately more treasured recognition. He used to have clients, partners and met a lot of others at parties he went frequently to, mostly charity parties often disguised as business ones. Those partners may have known his father, maybe his grandfather, or maybe they’re fresh right out the bat, maybe the Kessler company sought them, maybe your muse’s company sought them and you stumbled upon him. Mind you that Archer has made the scandalous decision to sell the majority of his actions towards the company and doesn’t get more involved than necessary with its activities. This profile fits to every muse high enough in the business ranks to meet Archer; at least chief of a team in a department. It’s all about title. Do be reminded that the Kessler company is known to have an illegal and scandalous history as of NOW and that a lawful good muse would probably not want to be associated with it, or any muse wanting to go legal.

LEGAL WORKERS. With the horribly enormous pile of cases Archer’s been involved with, he needs a lawyer cabinet to back him and his business. Multiple ones. Maybe it is a genuinely crooked one, or a blindly optimistic one who believes his claims of innocence and being against the world, maybe the whole cabinet is broken and as a newly employed lawyer you are still too innocent until you notice. Law enforcers and government representatives knows how much Archer is guilty (or not), making him infamous in their ranks as one of those irritating cases where the system doesn’t seem to work. For muses working in the justice system, on any side, from judge to prison guard.

“FRIENDS”. Archer lost all of his friends when he was accused and imprisoned. He would have done the same thing; every one who was still linked by friendship to him risked everything. You’re one of those, because you’re not an idiot… or maybe you are and you did lose everything to keep your integrity. Or maybe you really were too stupid and loyal and believed Archer did nothing. This applies to particular muses who can fit in a scenario like this. Although for the sake of social standing Archer could “befriend” quite some people, he had a particular preference towards artists and introverted yet talented minds who had lots of potential, wanting to make them grow.

CRIMINALS. Con artists, mafiosos, yakuzas, drug dealers, maybe assassins, thieves, hackers, corrupted law enforcement agents, rich guys with illegal fetishes… Archer has dealt at least with all of them at least once. As a “cleaner” before he finally sat down on the CEO chair, Archer was the one who by circumstances became known for his professionalism, cool head and ability to erase any evidence from even the most alarming and need-to-be-quickly-done situation. Even a killer who does so as a hobby or for personal gain would eventually be caught as he goes on, unless he can take a contract or too, and have him give a helping hand in exchange for secrecy. This applies to muses with at least a medium-ranked profile in the underground (so no simple alley drug dealer unless plotted).

ENTERTAINERS & SEX WORKERS. Given how Archer sees sex as being an extremely powerful tool, he often got around the latter, choosing carefully which escort he’ll personally put at his services. Archer kept the best ones at hand, to please contacts and clients. He respects them for their work, but he wanted professionalism from you and not cry if you got almost cut in half after a night. Although he stepped down from his CEO position, Archer was pushed into his sire’s hotel line, which secretly dealt with human trafficking and prostitution. With his experience, he slowly is coming back and is moving all his contacts over there, wanting to change his approach. Despite the need of running a very real business, he cannot ignore the amount of work his sire’s illegal business brings. This profile fills every muse working in the sex business outside camshows and movies. They don’t have to be the ones close to Archer.

VICTIM(S). Archer is a very high-rated criminal. Although he has only been found guilty of extortion, corruption, blackmailing, piracy and other business-linked crimes, he was accused but not found guilty of sequestration, serial murder, serial rape, torture, committing indignity to a body, publishing obscene material, harassment, insert lots of other legal terms surrounding this. Accusations which have been highly mediatized given how high profile he was at the time, him being used as a scapegoat and the scandal only worsened when it was said it was both on minors and adults. I won’t get too much on what the truth is, but if you’d like your muse to be victim of Archer’s real crime(s), do hit me up I’ll be very selective on this given it’s important to his background story. This profile would fit highly disturbed muse, hobos, prostitutes, people living in very poor districts, pretty much people who have the perfect victim profile. OR it can also be other businessmen, common people, those who would have their life ruined indirectly or directly any organization Archer was or is involved with, the most common being as putting you in debt with the mafia knocking at your door to kill you, break your legs or torture someone you love until you give them what they want.

NEAR THE VICTIM(S). There are suspicions your friend/lover/brother/whatever was done wrong because of Archer. Maybe you’re the one who pressed charges. Maybe it’s not you, but in some way you were involved indirectly in the scandal and it did something to you and you have your own opinion on it. Maybe you seek where Archer is to kill him, maybe just talk to him and understand… something.This profile fits a muse who has lost someone close to them in suspicious circumstances.

PARTNER IN CRIME. You were there and you liked every bit of it probably (or if not you’re surely dead). VERY SELECTIVE. This profile fits muse with probable sociopathic and/or psychopathic tendencies who knows their way across the most fucked-up places of the underworld.

OBSESSION. High profile criminals with atrocious records are known to, sadly, have, yes,fans. Your muse believes that Archer did most of what he was accused for, choose to your discretion. Maybe they wanted to visit him, maybe they sent him gifts and mails, maybe they were already almost obsessed with him BEFORE he was accused given his bit of a disturbed but extremely charismatic and successful behavior and just FELL more as he was sequestrated. This profile fits muse going to the simple nerd with morbid curiosity to the very intense stalker.

MATCHMAKING. Since his teens, Archer has met multiple people for a potential marriage; the woman in question and the relatives that accompany her. And… when bored, his sister has the nasty habit of wanting to play matchmaker with him; Archer may not be the best person, but he’d hate to not make up to someone his hell of a relative tricked. Self explanatory. Archer’s sister, Eve (Everleigh), is owner of two modern galleries, so single people susceptible to befriend her could fall into that trap.

SCHOOL FACES. Archer cut next to every tie which couldn’t help in business after he graduated from university. It was brutal and without much warning although given how he was drawn to his duty, nobody was surprised. Archer got schooled at home as a child after becoming a depressed before going to a rich high-end private school. Afterwards, he became a star tennis player and the moral support of the team. He was also the president of a literature club where he was able to bond a bit with nerds and was known to tutors younger kids he believed had potential to help his reputation or parents who had power to help his family. Archer was mostly loved by everyone, but still bullied the weak or didn’t hesitate to stomp on other to raise himself higher. Victims of his young impulses, partner or rival in the tennis court, maybe the librarian, maybe a classmate, maybe someone from another school who always saw him and wanted to know him. This profile fits muses that Archer would not talk to unless he knew them from the past. Mostly younger muses that leads a life that has nothing to do with his work. RP can be during his younger years or simply skipped to the main verse.

MEALS. As a vampire, Archer consolidated his hypnotic powers and feeding, starting to leave some preys alive, but dazed and forgetful at times. On top of the numbness and blinding aphrodisiac the poison in his biting provides, he is able to leave the impression like their meeting was a dream; victims will remember vaguely his face, voice or other depending on characters, but not remember the feeding. However, willing and loyal ones may even befriend Archer, who finds consenting people much easier to deal with than laying bodies and sudden disappearances. This profile fits grey morale muses, ones who loves the supernatural, masochists, etc. who’d trade their blood and silence in exchange of being around a vampire. Archer only feeds on females if they ask directly for it or if there is nothing else, highly preferring to feed on males, which is linked to his sexual preferences.

RED LIGHT DISTRICT. Archer has become a prominent figure of the red light district; as the one guy who owned everything (which is not true, but blown out of proportions). Due to the forceful, ruthless and undeniably lustful reputation his sire has, being the envoy puts him in a powerful position where the line between him and the one who turned him might blur to others, as if they were the same person. Anything new in the district goes through him and pros and cons are weighted for healthy competition. Outside the hotels and their affiliated businesses, Archer personally owns two bars; one is lounge gay bar and the other one of the same style, only for the supernaturals of every shape and form, with products to cater their needs. Both are actually places made to cater to his difficult and high maintenance taste; if you cannot find it, do it yourself. Those bars include their own staff, which he selects himself to make sure nobody he would find inappropriate works under his image. As for the hotel line itself, it includes its own staff, administration, underground administration and staff, restaurant staff and entertainment staff for diverse shows and parties thrown. This profile fits any muse which would frequent the red light district, from newcomers to others looking for a job, frequent visitors and owners of businesses. From the woman who runs an escort club with a heart of steel to the bartender who just wants to pay his education fees to the security guard who has nightmare about the noises he hears behind closed doors.

HITMEN. You were paid to fuck with him, but thing is it’s pretty complicated. This profile is picky since obviously the attempt is going to fail and you cannot always RP back and forth attempts. This would be nearly a comical bond with a need to plot a resolution depending on your muse!

SUBMISSIVES. Archer’s history as a dom was… infamous. Long story short, he was known to be good, but dangerous. With a more stable mind he wouldn’t mind going back to one of his favorite hobbies. The deal is simple; he owns the person obviously, no penetration sex, no deep kissing, no romance (which doesn’t mean no affection or love) and not to start screaming about it on the streets. Although he wouldn’t mind so much now to play by the rules, if allowed Archer will become ruthless, enjoying giving permanent marks on others and inflict gradually harsher punishments or rewards. This profile fits, well, masochists and submissives people, from any form and shape really (a victim is a victim) who are willing to give their body for a mutual game, be they be paying Archer or not. Very selective… because Archer is difficult. The way he treats your muse can be from pretty sweet to downward harsh… entirely depends on what degree he finds your muse attractive. Beware scars and broken parts. Sessions can last from one evening to a whole weekend.

MISC.I’ll add more when I think of them! DO THROW ME YOUR IDEAS LET’S GO.

Like with any interaction, relationships are officially in the singleverse timeline if it is roleplayed to a minimum extensively. Looking forwards to write with you!

#preest #long post #.saved

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