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adlbeay · 3 years

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I wanted to talk about the themes in the Walk in the Dust event. The story of Arknights has always had a high level of thematic consistency, but it’s especially prominent in this event. I feel like a lot of the discussion of the story in certain places comes down to “lore” and surface-level plot details, so I wanted to get this out there somewhere.

The two big ideas that are covered in Walk in the Dust are that of revenge and the homeland. Let's talk about revenge first. Long post and story spoilers under the cut.

In the beginning, we are introduced to Elliot, aka Passenger, who by the time we meet him, is an aimless husk of a man. He is utterly empty inside despite being the most powerful figure in the Reefsteep black market, with vast wealth and political influence under his thumb. Having completed his decades-long quest to slay everyone who was involved in betraying his teacher, he has no more goals for his life. After killing the Lord Ameer of Ibut, the last of his targets, he realizes that the revenge he had been pursuing was ultimately empty, that the weapons he built and the schemes he engineered to that end no longer moved him. Even the death of the Lord Ameer didn't matter one bit in the political landscape of Sargon.

As for the Sargon army... We live in different times now. The ruling Padishahs simply care not about what is happening here in this barren wasteland. My guess is that it matters not to them whether it's the father or the son that's in charge. Actually, to tell the truth, it hardly matters to me either.

Ultimately, no one cared if the Lord Ameer was murdered or simply died in an accident, not even Elliot himself. Sargon continues to be exploited by the Columbian military and the ruling Lords. Professor Thorne remains dead. His research, once entrusted to Elliot to prevent it from becoming a weapon of war, has nonetheless been used by Elliot himself to bring even more death. Now, 22 years later, Passenger sees finding Kal'tsit as his only path to salvation, so that she can once again give him a purpose like she did when she rescued him the first time.

Folinic's mom, Lillia, also shares the same kind of story. Her husband was killed in Chernobog when the count decided to purge the researchers working on the sarcophagus device. Among the children of the families broken up by this incident are Lyudmila (later Crownslayer), Alex and Misha (later Skullshatterer), and Luisa (later Folinic). Lillia finds Kal'tsit after months of searching, intending to take revenge on Grand Duke Vanya not just for her husband, but also for Luisa, who never got to know her father because of it. Kal'tsit tries to talk her out of it, even during the final phases of the plan, but Lillia's mind is set. She entrusts Kal'tsit with taking care of both Luisa and Lyudmila, as she knows she won't be able to come back to live a normal life after this. And... she succeeds. Although it is Kal'tsit who ultimately administered the poison, their plan works flawlessly and Duke Vanya is finally dead.

Except it still ended up being completely meaningless. The Grand Duke was in a glorified nursing home already near the end of his life, and if Kal'tsit didn't kill him then some other conspirator from the Ursus political backstage would have done it anyway. He was already crippled and blind, and as we find out during the confrontation with the Emperor's Blade, even Kal'tsit only agreed to Lillia's plan because it defused the conspiracies of other powerful figures who would have used the Duke's death to spark another rebellion. The only thing that Lillia ended up accomplishing was making sure that Louisa would grow up without both a mother and a father, and Lyudmila would never get the answers she really wanted about her family's death. And, although she ended up not doing it, she was even also planning to go back to Chernobog to kill Sergei, Alex and Misha's father, for his betrayal.

And this carries on through the future outside the event. Crownslayer ends up joining Reunion because she thinks it will give her the answers she wants and avenge her father. Folinic almost lets her anger at Atro's death get her into a confrontation with Wolumonde. In the end, Crownslayer is stopped by Kal'tsit and Folinic is calmed down by Suzuran, but we might be able to imagine what would have happened if they managed to carry out their vengeance.

The theme of homeland is one that's intrinsically tied to Kal'tsit and has at least a bit of relation to the broader story outside of the event. It's harder to talk about since it's not clearly split into individual stories like previously, but there's at least one character that exemplifies this theme the most: Old Isin.

Old Isin is appropriately to his name, old as rocks. He remembers being a servant to some lord of a long-lost city that very few even know once existed, and spends his time telling fortunes while trying to seek out people who, like him, also share that past. According to Kal'tsit, the city's people were scattered when it was destroyed, and now only Isin even remembers the origin of the name "Reefsteep". Even then, Isin only has vague memories, and believes it to be his unforgivable sin that he has forgotten so much about the city.

Old Isin originally helps Kal'tsit and Elliot because he hopes that she can help him remember about the lost city, and thus absolve his "unforgivable sin". And Kal'tsit indeed does help him. Isin begins to recall the conquests of armies a thousand years ago, something even with his age he should not have been a part of, much less remembered. Kal'tsit dispels the illusions clouding his memory, and reveals that what Isin remembers is only the stories that the padishah recounted to him, that the glory of his old city was only a memory of another memory. In truth, the city in Old Isin's memory was merely a stepping stone for the padishah's ambition to conquer the uncharted deserts, and was abandoned just as easily when that campaign failed. His homeland's glory was just an illusion created in his mind by the padishah's charisma.

Which brings us to the Emperor's Blade. Wherever he stands is the dominion of the Empire of Ursus. Whatever he does carries out the Ursus Emperor's will. Or at least, that's how the Royal Guards imagine themselves, single-handedly carrying out their homeland's legacy. Kal'tsit lays it out clearly:

Kal'tsit: Tell me, what does the current Ursus Emperor think of the Pine Valley affair? Or do you mean to tell me the seeds of that uprising, the origins of the crisis were all the will of the Emperor? Feel free to keep deceiving yourself, but the truth is the young emperor is unaware of the events that transpired there. You believe he has no need to know. You... all of you seek a bygone era. You are just caught up in the former emperor's grand vision!

As does Patriot in Chapter 8:

Patriot: I fought with your fathers. Your strength and tactical acumen are no less impressive than theirs. But you look at the Ursus of those times with rose-colored glasses. What you see is nothing more than your wild fantasies.

The Royal Guards are described in not too unclear words as soldiers who probably believed too much of their own grandiose affect. They are unparalleled fighters, to be sure, but it isn't hard to infer that those words about executing Ursus's will and each Royal Guard being his own nation are words intended to strike fear into their enemies rather than statements of any real truth. Indeed, if you know anything about the internal politics of Ursus, the idea of "Ursus's own will" can be seen as more of a nostalgia at a bygone era when Ursus was, or at least seemed, united in conquest under the previous Emperor. The perceived glory of their homeland is what motivates the Emperor's Blade, but like with Old Isin, the truth behind it is shaky at best.

We also have the contrast between the retired veteran at Pine Valley and Grand Duke Vanya. While talking to Witte, the veteran cuts off one of his own fingers, claiming that the scars he has suffered in Ursus's wars, once considered symbols of his glory and honor, were ultimately meaningless, and he wants this self-inflicted wound to be his only legacy to Ursus. At the same time, the Grand Duke is postulating about how the seeds he had sown in the winter would give birth to beautiful flowers. Even though his actions and the crimes he committed never bore fruition, he is convinced even in death that Ursus's soil will bloom.

The issue of a real or imagined homeland, and its loss, is also shared by the Sarkaz as a whole not only in this story but in the main story and many other events. It's even arguable that Rhodes Island's mission to help the Infected was originally inherited from Babel's goal of establishing a stable homeland for the Sarkaz. After all, as pointed out in many places, the Infected and Sarkaz share much of the same discrimination.

Sarkaz Mercenary: Home...? How could us devils... us Infected possibly have one... Kal'tsit: The Sarkaz have tried to rebuild 'Kazdel', their home for centuries, though they have never succeeded. Everyone has a different idea as to what the term 'homeland' means, but as it stands right now, Kazdel is perhaps as close as you can get to the term's original meaning.

And in Twilight of Wolumonde:

Armed Infected: We’re going home? To what home?

Mudrock: Kazdel. There may be no place for Sarkaz outside of Kazdel. But in Kazdel, there is a place for you. Not because of tolerance. But because there is... nothing there. Kazdel... is where the homeless go. A land of rootless people.

So what does all this have to do with Kal'tsit?

In the ending cutscene, Passenger asks Kal'tsit whether this "Rhodes Island" is yet another passing persona to be used to accomplish a goal and discarded when it's complete. Like the persona of the Trusted Advisor, or the Servant, or the Laterano Cleric, will she abandon Rhodes Island as well? Kal'tsit initially puts up a front saying he has no right to ask, then bluffs about having thousands of answers, but is pushed by Passenger saying he'll even accept a lie. In one of the only times we get to see Kal'tsit faltering, she actually has no answer to this.

Unlike the other characters we see throughout the story, Kal'tsit has no homeland. No matter how fake or illusory it is, Old Isin and the Royal Guard have something to believe about a place where they can belong. The nobles in Victoria, as incompetent as they appear from the outside, are dedicated to defending the peace of their home despite having no ruler. Even the ostracized Sarkaz can ultimately go back to Kazdel, as unpleasant as that might be. But while Kal'tsit wanders the earth to keep the homelands of others from falling into chaos, she has no homeland of her own to go back to.

In one of the trailers for Chapter 9, we hear a recording from Theresa, addressed to Kal'tsit: "I hope this Rhodes Island can be a place to call home, a place you can always return to."

#arknights #arknights spoilers #kal'tsit

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awellboiledicicle · 2 years

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“but Mok wouldn’t the stormcloak aligned jarls vote against balgruuf in the moot”

possibly, but also kain has the maker on her side and the maker’s crazy. the maker will do some wild shit to make changes happen.

Taerra doesn’t care about the political situation outside thedas much, but they do care about things changing. And they already yeet’d kain out there, might as well get leaned on by Andraste to sway some people. best case scenario for kain, the dominion gets a revolt bc the thalmor panic over their skyrim plan not working. best for taerra is everyone is destabilized and everyone is reduced to ever-arguing bands of local level lords that cycle through via murder and dick measuring. best for everyone is the threat of Kain existing as a physical demigod keeps everything peaceful for fucking once and Balgruuf has his finger on the alliance button in case the thalmor make a move.

also fighting whiterun would be a terrible strat for the other jarls. bypassing whiterun just in trade would put them into having to make agreements with everyone else around him, and most won’t DO that. it’d also put them at odds with his imperial trade partners, and most jarls would like trade to continue-- even if they’ve just been raiding caravans for a while now. Elesif might bitch about it, but she was hardly elected to anything. The imperial leaning ones will likely be fine with Balgruuf if it means 1: the emperor will work with him but didn’t choose him, 2: he was chosen by the dragonborn, 3: it ends the godsdamned war. The stormcloak leaning ones will follow Ulfric, but those closer to center that put skyrim over following ulfric would be pleased it’s a nord, 2: chosen by the dragonborn, 3: having peace with a free skyrim, 4: talos worship can continue because skyrim would no longer be tied by the white-gold concordant while still getting all of the benefits of working with the empire.

Ulfric is still a problem, but with enough Fus to the face, he’ll come around or die and someone easier to handle will take his throne.

Also this plan means Maven doesn’t become jarl of riften and it makes it easier to plot out how to ruin her life, even if i can do that with her as jarl it’d be more satisfying with her just there. not able to force kain to do a goddamn thing re: the thieves guild. Whats she gonna do, tell everyone. go ahead, say the harbinger of the companions and hero of the people is leader of the thieves guild. do it. watch them laugh in your face, maven.

#i have Thoughts #skyrim age au

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moviemunchies · 2 years

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Before seeing this movie, I’d seen a lot of reviews of this film. More fandom-oriented viewers seemed to like it, and the success of the movie at the box office seemed to bear out that general audiences liked it. Critic reviews were much less kind to the movie. I’ve seen some outlets refer to Jurassic World: Dominion as the worst film in the series.

So I was a bit apprehensive about going to the theater!

The previous movie, Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom, ends with dinosaurs being released into the wild, and the trailers for this film showed some of the results of that. Except that’s not really what this movie is about. Jurassic World: Dominion is about two main storylines:

With Owen, Claire, and Maisie: Biosyn, the genetics company that took over the business of dinosaurs from InGen, is searching for Maisie Lockwood because (as the last movie revealed) she’s a clone and this makes her genetically special, somehow, or something.

With Grant, Sattler, and Malcolm: So Biosyn is engineering prehistoric killer locusts to eat all the world’s crops except the ones engineered by Biosyn, and Sattler wants to prove it with Grant’s help. Malcolm, who now works for Biosyn as an in-house lecturer.

All of them end up in Biosyn’s new headquarters, which is now in the middle of an isolated dinosaur sanctuary in a valley somewhere. Which means the premise of “dinosaurs out in the world” is discarded for “our heroes are trapped in a collapsing dinosaur park AGAIN, and the actual Plot is about locusts.

I’m sorry, I’m making it sound like I hated this movie. I didn’t–I had a lot of fun! There are some really cool action sequences, like the raptor chase in Malta. And there are a bunch of new dinosaurs! Maybe the two different kinds of raptors feel a bit repetitive, but the Therizinosaurus is cool, as is the Giganotosaurus, and the return of Dilophosaurus! I’m also very excited to finally see feathered dinosaurs in a Jurassic Park movie–it’s about freaking time. We don’t need hybrids, we need to move closer to paleontological accuracy!

The problem is that these creatures don’t have much time to be used as they’re crammed in a movie that’s not really about dinosaurs at all. The main Plot is ultimately about Biosyn’s plan to make locusts to eat everything but their own products. It’s a stupid plan, as I’ve said. The leader of Biosyn, Lewis Dodgson, doesn’t seem to even realize that he’s causing complete ecological destruction, even when it’s pointed out to him. Honestly, Dodgson seems a bit lost during the entire movie, and I thought it’d be revealed that the interest he has in genetic research is because he wants to cure some sort of degenerative mental disease he has. But nope! He’s just a befuddled man as far as I can tell!

Then again, he is named after the author for Alice in Wonderland_ (Lewis Carroll, pen name for Charles Dodgson) for no discernible reason, so maybe that’s meant to be his thing? It’s still weird, because the character has a brief scene in the original Jurassic Park (with a different actor) and in that, he’s considerably more menacing, despite having less than five minutes of screentime. Here, I don’t know if I’m supposed to feel sorry for him or not.

[Supposedly the actor who played him in the first movie was eager to play the character again if it ever came up, but he couldn’t do this movie because he was imprisoned for sexualy assaulting a kid. What the eff?]

Also this movie brings Grant and Sattler back together in a relationship. People care about that, I guess. I’ve always been bewildered by this, because I didn’t even know it was a thing until I saw the Nostalgia Critic review for Jurassic Park III (YES I watched Nostalgia Critic back in the day, so sue me). I didn’t realize that Grant and Sattler were EVER a couple in the movies, because it’s not like Jurassic Park has many overt romantic moments between the two. And I remembered that in the book, they’re explicitly NOT a couple–one of the kids asks Grant, and he tells them that she’s one of his students, he has no interest in her, and she’s dating some other guy.

Again, apparently this ship was important to people. Important enough that there were headlines before the release of Dominion in which people asked if it was appropriate in the first film, given their age gap.

So despite Jurassic Park III establishing that they’re still very good friends despite their relationship not working out, and Sattler being married with children, THIS movie awkwardly has it so that Grant was never really over her, and now she’s conveniently divorced and her kids are in college, so she’s free to get with Grant.

[helpless gestures] I don’t really care. Claire and Owen are finally a couple, if you care about that–I was tired of the Will They/Won’t They, so happy to see that resolved. And they make sympathetic/entertaining parental figures for Maisie.

The actual Plot doesn’t really make that much sense to me, truth be told. Okay, so Maisie is a clone, and her mother had a fatal genetic disease of some sort. But her mother changed her genes so Maisie wouldn’t have that disease. And so Dr. Wu thinks that by studying Maisie’s DNA he can find a way to stop the evil locusts Dodgson made him create within a generation, or something? Also Blue the velociraptor reproduced without a male, on her own, basically creating a clone (this is a thing that can happen in some species) that the baby raptor will also have some kind of genetic secrets? I don’t know how that works.

I’m more than a bit fuzzy on how “Maisie being a clone with edited genes” means “We can stop the locust plague”, and even more so on how the raptor could fix this. And the more I think about it, the more I realize that I shouldn’t have to be thinking about this because the Plot should be ABOUT DINOSAURS, DANG IT.

Look, I thought the dinosaur rights groups we saw in the last movie were dumb. They still are. But _Fallen Kingdom_ ends with Maise releasing dinosaurs into the world. This is going to have major repercussions. The beginning of this film tells us that there’s a dinosaur black market and so they’ve spread all over the world. This movie should give us something like a Dinotopia or The Dinosaur Lords AU. We should start to see how people are adapting to sharing the world with dinosaurs out in the wild or in their cities. And there are some great scenes showing this! Instead the movie’s just not interested in that premise, outside of a handful of scenes.

But Kayla Watts is pretty cool. I mean, she’s probably the coolest character out of the last three movies, the most fun to watch, and one of the few people who is close to having her head on straight.

[rubs forehead]

Look, I guess what I’m saying is this: this movie’s dumb. For some people, it’s probably unforgivably dumb. But it’s entertaining. It doesn’t have much substance, to be honest, but it’s got action, and it is trying to please fans old and new by bringing back old characters and plenty of callbacks.

[Some of those callbacks are grating and pointless, I’ll admit–the can of shaving cream from the first movie is back, despite that it has no function right now and is just something Dodgson keeps with him as a trophy, I GUESS.]

If you like Jurassic Park but don’t care about the story being too deep, yeah, you’ll be fine. Go watch this movie. It’s fine. There’s nothing as dumb as the military creating a genetic hybrid serial killer dinosaur. But it’s far from as good as this movie could have been, and displays that the makers of the Jurassic World trilogy don’t really know the true value of what they’re handling.

#Jurassic World #Jurassic World: Dominion #Jurassic Park #Movie Munchies #reviews

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wordynerdygurl · 4 years

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Skin Deep - Part 6

Author’s Note: Honestly, this story is nearing it’s ending. Hard to believe that a little idea I couldn’t shake has now grown into this mini-series! For all my die-hard homies, waiting for the next installment, I hope this is worth your while! If you’re new here, take a look around, see if you like anything and please, let the management know if you have any questions!! As always, writing like this requires the emotional support of people and pets. My dogs, Murphy and Winston, get me through a lot of plot bunnies just by being stalwart companions. My husband, graciously, lets me take these flights of fancy when I probably should be paying better attention to him and his day... and some of my besties here on Tumblr make it possible for me to do this for you guys. @sammy-jo1977 , my sister from another mister! Couldn’t/ Wouldn’t do it without you! To all the folks who follow me... My Minxes! Love you all! Stay well, be kind, and remember that Love, really does conquer all! If you want to be a Minx, send me a note, I’ll happily add you to my tag list! Lastly, be sure to like and share anything that you see on Tumblr that catches your eye. Creative types, we need the constant validation, you see? Without it, like an unwatered plant, we wither on the vine and perish! Be kind to those who help you through the day and reblog! Skin Deep Part 5 - click here for the previous chapter! Pairing: Loki x Reader, Steve, Valkyrie & Thor all make appearances Summary: Continued from Part 5, You and Loki put your plan into action, returning to Farmhouse. When you encounter Steve again, you learn there’s more than two sides to this story. Warnings: Loki’s POV and perspective, including mentions of his time under Thanos. I’m re-writing MCU history here, but some of the main beats are the same, so look out for SPOILERS for Dark World, Ragnarok, and a touch of Infinity War. The SNAP never happened because, reasons.

Empathy used to seem such a human emotion. Loki had no time for that on Asgard, not when Odin denied anything as frivolous as feeling. Hiding in plain sight was the means to survival and if that made the young prince sneaky and sly, so be it. By placing those parts of himself under lock and key; the parts that hurt, the ones that ached, Loki found it was safer to disconnect from others than subject himself to their suffering too.

Operating under the influence of Thanos and his minions when he held the scepter, Loki had purposefully divorced connection of any kind from his mind. It was dangerous. Weak. And moreover, it allowed Loki to do what Thanos commanded without really experiencing the horror, the havoc, of his actions for himself.

Who could hear the screams of women when the voice of Ebony Maw subliminally chanted all the ways that one could be dismembered at Thanos’ hands should Loki fail? What man would shed a tear after the near constant beatings doled out by Black Order members, just for the fun of it? How could someone care about a house, a car, a city, when they no longer cared about themself? Losing the Battle for New York had consequences far beyond the destruction of property. With Thanos’ hold over him vanquished, the walls around his heart, constructed in youth, crashed and burned like the dream of ruling Earth. Suddenly and completely out of reserves, Loki was powerless. And he felt everything. The fresh hurts caused by his manipulated ambitions in the hands of Thanos. The furious feelings of his brother, the inadequacies of his character, the feeble needs that drove his wild ambition washed over him unceasingly. Anger. Loss. Lunacy. Loki learned a hard truth in that moment. He was a monster. A freak. A creature beyond hope and salvation; proving his adoptive father right and his own hopeful heart wrong. Bitterness soured the fallen prince. Endless hours in isolation on Earth, which continued in his father's house, had Loki believing he had no chance of seeing the world outside again, and it hardened his heart further. To feel was so painful, so raw, and so humane. Why bother anyway? All that emoting, those high spirits, all they really did was expose you to derision. What was grief to a goblin? What was horror to a monster? What was love to a villain like him? An evil, conspiring demi-god, with a mind bent toward domination. A damaged, destroyed, deity alone and in pieces. Who would ever give someone like Loki Odinson a chance? Why should they?

Turning to his mother, Loki did everything but ask for forgiveness. In long rambling talks, her projection to his jailed person, the pair talked around ideas of guilt and innocence, of fate and fortune, of destiny versus desire, yet Loki never heard the words he needed in order to truly find peace.

If Frigga was aware of her son’s need for absolution, Loki would never know, as their last exchange was harsh and full of anger. Another stroke of loss, crippling now, because there was nothing Loki could do to change any of it from inside his prison cell. No illusion could conceal the painful ache that consumed him entirely.

Those days were dark, even for a soul as dusky hued as his own, and Loki’s thoughts followed a similar path. If there had been a way for him to shake off this immortal coil, free himself of the burden of living, Loki would have done so and been glad. Death was welcome compared to all this longing and heartache. But life, even a nearly immortal one, was funny.

When Thor provided a chance at redemption, Loki snatched at it, in his own detached way. He played hero, rescuing Jane, aiding his brother. And if he took a bit more in the form of deposing his arrogant, aging father, who would be surprised? He was Loki, God of Mischief, after all. Ruling the Nine Realms without the oppressive oversight of his father allowed Loki to prove himself in ways he never imagined. And Loki wasn’t just good at it. He was great. Of course, it helped that no one knew he was Loki. Living disguised as Odin was often unpleasant, frequently frustrating, but entirely necessary. Being Loki was still too difficult and likely to bring unwanted attention in the form of The God of Thunder, a thing that no one truly wanted, Loki least of all. Return Thor did, along with an unknown sister and the end of Asgard. When confronted with the insanity of Hela’s bloodlust, Loki’s only thought was of his kingdom, now without a ruler. He had worked too hard, too long, to see the land he cared for in the hands of an enemy, even if she called herself sister. Opening the Bi-Frost, panicked, his mind was solely on saving those he had recently held dominion over. They were his people, after all. But he never reached Asgard. Swallowing his fear, Loki focused all his energy on staying alive in a new and distracting environment, initially. What Loki found on Sakaar wasn't a new home base under a flamboyant, ineffective leader that he could control, even if that was his first design. On Sakaar Loki found his loyalty.

The proud, deep resonance of being Asgardian, of being an Odinson, of being capable and cool under pressure. Sure, he had to prove himself to Thor, Valkyrie, Banner and honestly, the rest of the kingdom, but actions speak louder than words. And through his actions on Sakkar, and by extension rescuing the people of Asgard, Loki had shown everybody his true mettle. It was on the deck of a stolen ship headed for Midgard that Loki had made a commitment of sorts. One that was not to the people, so recently saved or for his found family. This time, the promise Loki intended to keep was for himself. Loki was going to change. The problem is, a task like that takes time. Patience. Motivation. It was something that Loki had to work at and it was exhausting. They say that the best things come to those who wait. Loki was learning to wait everyday. Having earned a place at the side of his brother, he worked tirelessly to win over the heroes of his new home planet. Was it easy? Hardly, but Loki wasn’t willing to compromise. Not anymore. A life like Hela’s was not in his runes. Loki was simply going to be better. Not perfect. No one could be as good hearted as Captain America, nor could one be as tech savvy as Stark. So Loki was planning on being the best Loki he could possibly be, and that’s how he found himself going to meetings at The Avengers Tower, a mostly welcome addition to the team. Meetings weren’t all that exciting and boredom was an awful temptation for a deity devoted to mayhem. In fact, Loki spent more time doodling in his notebook than listening to whoever was droning on about whatever part of the world needed the attention of this motley crew. That was, until Pepper Potts hired her new assistant. That you were polite, pretty and pert wasn’t lost on the young god. Sitting outside Mrs. Iron Man’s office, typing away with a phone tucked under your ear, moving faster than anyone he had ever seen was certainly impressive. You were quick witted, clever and most of all, funny. Everyone else seemed to fall under your spell without much effort on your part, something that Loki found frustratingly fascinating. Here he was, struggling to get people to say his name without having a traumatic flashback, while you simply smiled and smarted off prettily, and had everyone singing your praises. But Norns, were you adorable. If he thought about it, and while off planet, Loki definitely had, he could remember the moment he realized that you were the woman he wanted. You were busy, as always, fielding phone calls and flipping through screens yet every moment your flying fingers weren’t hovering over a keyboard or pushing down telephone buttons they curled around a heart shaped charm at your throat. Clearly, it was a habit and one that you weren’t even aware of, still - it transfixed him all the same. Watching you from his side eye, your voice never wavering, your tone always so pleasing, and your nimble digits returning again and again to the small sigil around your neck. “Loki?” “Huh?” Dumbfounded at your call, those deep sea eyes blinked wildly at the sound of his name on your lips. “Hi! Yes, Pepper can see you now. Go ahead, she’s ready!” He rose on stiff legs, adjusting his tie, about to lie to Tony Stark’s woman all for the chance to see you in passing. Who had he become? It started out innocent like that, but soon, Loki was having to invent excuses for being in the office so frequently. Missing files, random visits, even going so far as to buy Tony coffee just for the thrill of seeing you. Something needed to change, and quickly, or Loki was going to blow. On another made up errand, hanging around the executive’s high rise office, Loki was doing a bad job of pretending not to see you. His mind was on your pouty lips as you sipped lemonade through a straw and not on the stately woman seated behind the desk.

“Loki, you’re a man of some… style.” Pepper said it so casually that he almost didn’t hear, his head lost in thoughts that would shame any other person. “I like to think so.”

Shutting her folder with a snap, Pepper smiled, “And you’d love to help your old friend Pepper out, right?” That got his attention, and quickly. Loki, shoving his hands in his pockets, turned to face Pepper with a widening grin, “I feel like I’m being baited.”

“Baited? Never! It’s just, you’re always here and I have a… project that needs the kind of help that you can provide.” At those words you entered the office, ready for action with a notebook and pen, eager and excited. Suddenly, it was all clear to Loki, “Pepper, no.”

The noose closed in on the handsome god as Pepper gathered paperwork without looking his way, “Come on, it’s the Stark Homecoming Gala and the two of you will do great! I have faith in you both. I can’t wait to see what you come up with!” “Really, Miss Potts, I simply can’t-” Stopping short, the strawberry blonde whipped around, almost nose to nose with Loki. Shrewd and straightforward, Pepper interrupted, saying, “You’ve been dancing around my office for weeks now. Clearly you like her and… against all the odds, she likes you too. I’m doing you a favor and when someone does you a favor, you say “Thank You”.” “Thank you.” Nodding curtly, “You’re welcome. Now, make yourselves comfortable, order some dinner, my treat. And do whatever you need to make sure this is one great party!” That’s how Loki found himself sitting at a clear glass table over sweating bottles of iced tea as you discussed color themes and tablecloths. You were shy, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you reviewed notes from previous gatherings both large and small. His hands itched with wanting to do that job himself. “So, what do you think?” It was the first time you had addressed him directly since coming through the door and for a moment Loki couldn’t answer. You were too… not beautiful, that wasn’t the right word, although you were. No, you were too open, too easy to read, and the earnestness you offered him was downright frightening. Sitting forward in the uncomfortable, yet fashionable, office furniture, Loki cleared his throat and again tugged his tie, “What I think is that you should let me take you dinner.” Dropping your eyes, your cheeks colored slightly as your fingers found that locket charm once more, “Loki, I… I don’t know-” Grabbing for your hand, suddenly afraid that you would take those shining eyes away, Loki lowered his voice and did something he never thought he would. He begged. “Please? I find that you’re all I can think about.” It rushed out of him in a torrent, the way truth so often does, and he found himself unable to look you in the eye. Loki was afraid to see rejection on your easy to read face, afraid that wanting you had cracked open the lock box holding his heart, afraid that you would see just how weak you made him. Your fingers twined with his own as you replied, “You didn’t let me finish. I don’t know what took you so long.” Sighing with relief, his face melting into a genuine smile, “Me either.” Over the next two months the pair of you worked tirelessly to plan and execute a perfect party. You were inseparable during the day, heads buried together as you discussed linens and table settings, the quality of cocktail glasses, and debating over a band or a dj. But at night, at night Loki talked about the things that haunted him in the dark. And you loved him in spite of the awful things he had seen and done and said. Others took notice. Loki was more lighthearted, more available. He listened when people spoke and wasn’t constantly doodling during meetings. Yes, Loki was learning how to love through your loving him. If empathy had seemed too humane before, then sharing his life, his love with you, was the kind of immortality that earned someone a place in Valhalla. It was the bravest thing Loki Odinson had ever done and he didn’t mind one bit.

The first time Loki tasted you was burned into his brain, as bright as a flash of lightning. A firefly in a memory jar that he kept returning to, time and again. Loki remembered what you were wearing. He recalled exactly how the light shone in your eyes. If he concentrated, he could tap out the rhythm of your racing pulse as he held you in his arms. It was the night of the gala. Inviting everyone under the Stark Industries banner, up to and including the heroes tasked with saving the world, the event was a way to earn money for one of the many charities Tony supported. The place was full of beautiful people wearing gorgeous clothes under perfect lights set to the hand crafted soundtrack you had created together.

But, Norns, he could still remember the way your eyes sparkled under the lowlights of that hall. How your dress, simple but sophisticated, clung to the fullness of your bottom. Low cut but somehow still modest, Loki couldn’t tear his gaze away from the promise of your curves, willing himself to find anything else as interesting as the idea of you.

You were across the room hanging onto Tony’s every word, eyes bright and cheerfully glowing as you sipped champagne. It made Loki want to do something grand, something suave, something that would demand your attention for his own. Moving towards you, his tuxedo perfectly pressed and fitting better than it had any right to, Loki looked long and lean. Each of his steps seemed to echo, even though the room was full of sound, and you turned your head as if you also heard. Breaking away from the cluster of acolytes surrounding Iron Man, you bit into your lip as the crowd parted, moving closer together one step at a time. It was one of the sexiest things Loki had ever witnessed. Lifting your glass in a toast, taking in the room of mingling millionaires, wealthy hangers on and Avengers, “Well, we did it!” “You did it, my dove, I just hung around and judged everyone.” “Oh stop. I couldn’t have done it without you and you know it.” Playfully you pushed against his shoulder and Loki took advantage, using your momentum to pull you to his side, your curvy figure flush against his own. Crooning into the shell of your ear, his lips brushing over that sensitive skin, “Somehow, love, I think you would have managed.” Before you had time to think, Loki had melded his mouth with your own, stealing your breath along with your heart. Loki’s feet moved in time with the music as he pulled into a dance, laughing in his arms, your cheeks hot and your head swimming. You laughing was, without question, Loki’s favorite sound. Nothing in this world or any other came close to matching the joyful, childlike glee of that enchanting noise. Loki memorized its melody, the rise and fall of your giggle. He had craved it, being away for so long, and now he wanted… no, needed to hear it. But you were the furthest thing from happy at the moment.

"Darling, please. We have to go." Loki tapped his watch, shaking himself free from the memories of your previous life together and barely suppressing his irritation.

Tears filled your eyes as you whipped your arms around Thor’s mighty shoulders, his deep voice grumbly with emotion, "Take care of him, would you? He's a jerk, but Loki is the only brother I have."

"Of course… always. And Valkyrie, your highness, I can’t thank you enough for-"

"No need. Loki, and by extension yourself, will always have a safe haven here in my palace."

Looking on, Loki and Thor embraced almost tenderly before crashing their heads together.

"Stay safe, little brother."

"Be good, Thor."

Eyes on the sky, Val ignored the show of masculine emotion, chastising your plan, "You’re going to start a war, Loki."

Straight backed, Loki turned to the king, "Not on the grass of New Asgard. I will take the fight to them, that is my vow to you."

As Loki offered his hand, Valkyrie shook it, with parting words, "Work on staying alive. You have a tendency to worry your brother."

Solemnly nodding, "As the king commands. Shall we?" With that Loki laced his fingers with yours, leading you a few paces away from the people who loved him most, before summoning the magic that had you both transcending space and time.

This time when your feet touched down it was on the familiar turf of the orchard, surrounded by the scent of apple blossoms and the buzzing of happy bees. Morning had broken and the world seemed full of promise, with the exception of that knot in your stomach.

"Are you ready? Darling?"

"Oh… yes. I mean, I still don't love this plan, but-"

"But it's going to work." Only it was no longer the baritone voice of your long, lean Loki speaking. In his place stood Nick Fury, leather duster and eye patch in place.

"If you say so!" And you clutched your own throat as Natasha’s bored tones came out of your mouth. The suit, skin tight but flexible, molded to your modified form. All in all, you were comfortable, "The boots are a bit much."

"Ya think? This jacket weighs a ton." Pulling at his collar, "Why does he wear a turtleneck anyway?"

"Loki, this is so weird. It feels so weird."

"Agreed, but then, why am I so turned on?"

Laughing, you shook your false red hair, hands resting on Natasha’s waist, "God, I've missed you."

"Same, dearest. Now… let's get your necklace and some answers!"

---

Convincing Bucky to head home had taken a lot of work, but sometime around 2 am Steve had finally seen his friend off. The house was empty. Steve felt the same way.

Turning the black velvet box in his pocket, fingers crushed against the fragile fabric, Steve struggled to feel anger. When that didn't materialize he shot for sadness but even tears seemed beyond his ability.

With a sigh, climbing the same stairs he had trudged up a hundred times before, Steve started going through the motions of bedtime. Only tonight you weren’t there to tease him about the wildly inappropriate amount of toothpaste on his brush. He didn’t have your light footsteps to follow to the bedside or your help with stacking all of your extra, yet entirely essential, pillows on the chair.

Someone must have changed the sheets, he thought. There was no evidence of you and Loki’s adventurous afternoon anymore. Steve made a mental note to thank Buck for that little piece of kindness in the morning.

Shucking his shirt, Steve sat on the mattress, a hand to his forehead. He had lost. Captain America had been bested. Beaten. And by Loki, no less.

Moonlight in silver slivers shone through the window panes, squares of light in the deep of night. Steve was alone. Utterly and totally alone.

And there was no one to blame but himself.

Sighing hard, Steve stood, pacing the floor to work off some of the unspendable anxiety he kept creating. The room still had your energy, your vibe, as you liked to call it, and the feeling was a prickling itch Steve couldn’t quite satisfy. Traces of you were everywhere and something about you leaving all of it, and him, behind was just too big to process. “Damn it.” Even whispering sounded like thunder in the silence of your recently vacated room. His hands, so big, so strong, smoothed along the fabric of your hanging clothes. All that power had done nothing to help Steve get the thing he wanted. Sorting through the baubles and trinkets on your dresser, bottles of perfume he had purchased, necklaces and pins, each with a moment of memory it hurt him to recall. Your watch ticked away the minutes as he stood, stoic and still, surrounded by the shadow of you. In the orchard the birds were waking, their song filling the air, as morning broke in low golden rays. Abandoning his plan for sleep, Steve watched as the light chased away the dark, casting rainbows on the floor. The sun was reflecting off of your Grandmother’s necklace. A pretty, ancient, carved cameo, heart shaped locket. He recalled his own mother owning one just like it, pictures of loved ones pressed inside, holding them as tight as history would allow. Fisting the filigree chain, winding it around his fingers as if it would somehow undo what he had done, Steve slipped it into his pocket before settling back onto the bed. ----

At the back door to the home you so recently shared with Steve, Loki hung back, “I think this is where we split up. You go find your treasure and me… I’m going to find some answers.” Nodding, Natasha’s signature red hair swinging, you squeezed the hand holding your own. It no longer looked like Loki’s long fingered paw, but that was only a skin deep change. You felt the undeniable essence of him in the press of his fingers against your own. “Be careful.” “That’s no fun, dove.” “Loki-” You hated the way your voice broke as you said it, but there just seemed to be so much at stake and you had already lost him once. Sensing your unspoken concerns, Loki flashed you Nick Fury’s best smile, “I will. I promise.”

“Ten minutes.” “Ten minutes.” You watched the black coated back of your charmed paramour as he opened the shed door, hoping that he’d find something worth knowing in that place out of sight. Inhaling deeply you twisted the doorknob as quietly as possible, letting yourself into what was once your kitchen, “What a mess.” It was impossible not to notice the unwrapped leftovers and empty bottles littering the table. An overturned trash barrel, crumpled beer cans littering the counter, things that Steve, your Steve, would never have tolerated. All evidence that the grand evening he’d envisioned had been thwarted by Loki’s arrival and your collective escape.

You started up the stairs, praising Natasha's footwear for its stealth, when you heard the toilet flush and the unmistakable shuffle of Steve’s feet on the carpet. There was no place to hide on the wide stairwell. It was time to see if Loki's plan was going to work.

Voice blurry, eyes rubbed red and raw, you couldn't deny that Steve looked like shit, “Bucky? That you? You back?” Steve’s voice bounced around the brightening room as morning sunlight filtered through the soft sheers you had picked out for exactly this reason. Panicked, you backed into the railing with an over loud “Oof!” “Nat? What are you doing here? I thought you and Fury were headed to New Asgard?” Suddenly wide awake and wondering, Steve rushed to your costumed side, eager for information. The man in front of you now bore little resemblance to the angry Avenger you had escaped from hours before. This man had hair sticking up in odd angles from near constant finger raking. This man had a hint of a stuffy nose and red rimmed eyes, all indicators that tears had been shed. Now those blue eyes were scrutinizing you closely, full of concern.

“Uh… We... We got intel. Yea, intelligence, that Loki was headed back this way. Turned around… and uh, here we are.” One of those sandy blonde eyebrows lifted, “Natasha?”

Squaring your shoulders, channeling that cool confidence you’d see Black Widow display over and over, “Steve?” Something about your tone of voice convinced him in a way your words couldn’t. He visibly relaxed, those broad shoulders going slack as he asked, “Didn’t make it to Norway, then?"

Nodding a negative, you felt the unfamiliar brush of her red hair at your cheek and had to fight the urge to tuck it away, “No. Loki’s using some sort of transporting power to move them around. Fury suggested I keep an eye out here, in case they come back this way.” “She won’t be back, Nat. There’s nothing for her here.” To you, Steve sounded so sad, so removed, that you had to will yourself not to comfort the giant before you. “That’s not true!” It came out of you forcefully, thoughtlessly, and you saw the shock register on the Captain’s face. “That is, Fury and I… we… have reason to believe that she will come back. They left with nothing, Steve. She’ll need clothes… maybe some shoes… and-” Swallowing hard, you didn’t want to give anything away, “-a necklace from her grandmother.” Steve, patting his pocket, felt the weighted chain and it’s heart shaped locket, “I don’t think-” Stepping up to his bulky form, suddenly aggressive, you started, “Never mind what you think, Captain. We're here for a necklace... the necklace. Our intel suggests that your former flame might return for it and… And, I want it, with me, as a means to subdue her when she arrives." Sounding forceful and official was enough to back Steve down. Just a touch deflated, you watched him shrug, “If that’s what you want, Nat, here-” From his pants he pulled out the shining bauble, a trinket really, but full of sentiment and memory. Sitting in his palm, the tiny heart that held the picture of your grandmother and mother looked so small, almost unreal. Reaching for it with wet eyes, you smiled at Steve as you lifted the charm and chain, “Thank you, Steve. Thank you.” Nodding deeply, that golden head bobbing, “You’re welcome.” The large grandfather clock could be heard ticking throughout the house. The sun was gaining on the day and you, dressed as Natasha stood in silence in front of a somber Steve. For another long beat nothing was said, then, as if sensing a shift in your conversation, Steve flashed your fake Natasha a weak smile, “I could use some breakfast. How about you?”

“Um… sure. Yea, ok. Breakfast.”

Steve started moving again, downstairs towards the cluttered kitchen when he paused, "So how did you get back so fast? Cause that's like a 7 hour flight, even with you in the cockpit." “Steve…” You could hear it, the whining almost pleading tone that signaled the end of Loki’s well planned charade. That wasn’t enough to stop Steve. He broke hard, one of those strong arms stopping you in your tracks before you could reach the lower level. “It’s clever, I have to give you guys that. Almost perfect, really.” Panic rising, you doubled down on the ruse, struggling to keep your voice even, “I don’t know-” Blocking you in, his body the perfect unmovable buffer, “Loki’s here too, isn’t he?” Pushing against “Steve, I… I don’t…” “Don’t lie. You don’t have to…” “But… how-?” “You’re not mean enough to play Natasha, doll. Not by a long shot.”

--- It was strange to be seated at the table and chairs that you and Steve had picked out together one sunny Saturday when you thought that your future was going to be Loki-less. Your place, the one that you had imagined filling with children that had golden hair and bright blue eyes, felt like a set. Something false and fake. A facade, put together simply for show. Steve must have felt it too because his fingers drummed against the white washed table incessantly. Clearly he had something on his mind. “Steve-” “No. No. Please, let me just get this out, ok?” Raising an eyebrow, you waved at him to continue, nervous but interested in what the super soldier needed to explain. With a shaky inhale, running his constantly moving fingers through his golden locks, Steve caught your eye and didn’t waiver. “When I saw you… No, that’s not right. Let me start at the beginning. “When Loki left Earth, you… you were so sad. It hurt me to see you so… deflated.” “Steve, I-” “You know it’s true. When he returned to Asgard, something in you, it dimmed, and I just couldn’t allow that… Not when I felt the way I did about you. “I don’t think you realize just how incredible you are… how full of life! And since I had already missed one chance to be with you, I knew I needed to prove that I could be the man you needed… If you forgot about Loki along the way, even better. “Only… you never did. I waited years for you, ya know, doll? Years. And just when I thought there was no chance with you, Nat gave me a reason to hope. “She was your friend. An ally. Someone you could trust… someone I could trust. I swear it started out that innocently, at least for me. I just wanted to make you smile again. But she had other plans. Plans that came from higher up the ladder of SHIELD. “Fury, he wanted us to watch you… something about Loki being too powerful. And-”, grabbing your hand tightly, Steve emphasized his point, “-I promise you that I had no idea about his success, or the messages he had sent to you through Nick. Like you, I thought that Loki was gone. Missing. Never coming back.” “I… I believe you Steve. I know that you didn’t do all this on your own… but what was Nick hoping you’d find out? I knew less than nothing about what was going on!” “I think he was worried that Loki would get to you first. That if… when Loki returned, you would be his first stop. Then you would know about Loki’s success and, frankly, Fury’s failures. You would also know… well, everything you know now. That Fury had you tailed, lied to, and led on in an effort to stop Loki from out flanking him.” Frenzied and frantic, you felt anger boiling up inside of you, “But I thought Loki was gone forever. There was no hope for him and I… and Natasha, she told me that he was dead.” “All a part of Fury’s plan to keep you neutralized and Loki away. If Loki thought that you’d ignored his letters, that you no longer loved him, why would he come back here? And, if that didn’t work… when Loki came back and you were with me, what else could keep him on Earth?”

Whispering with realization, “So, they used you too.” Steve sighed and buried his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt, “Don’t feel bad for me. I let them use my love for you, let them twist it up and shape it as they needed. Honestly, I wish I could tell you that it was for you, but it wasn’t. It was for me. I wanted you, so, so badly. I didn’t care what strings were attached. And we built a life together, you and me. I thought I could outrun the reality of the constant monitoring and daily reports. Telling Natasha and Nick about every word and each email. Don’t you see, I love you… and I wanted you, however I could get you.” Shaking your head, Natasha’s red wisps flying, “That’s not love, Steve. I don’t know what that is… but love isn’t it.” “No?” With a loud thunk, Steve slammed a small velvet box on the table between you. “Is… Is that what I think it is?”

“Last night. It was going to happen last night. Our friends here, under the lights and the stars, I was going to ask you to marry me. I still would if-” Realization hit you like a ton of bricks, “If Loki hadn’t stepped back into our lives.” “-If Loki hadn’t stepped back into your life.” It made you both laugh in a sad way, how you finished the same thought, and for a fleeting second you could see why you had allowed Captain America to sweep you off your feet. He was a lot of things to you now, but there was a time when he had been almost everything. The evidence of that was in the small black square that said nothing but spoke volumes. “Steve, I don’t know if I would have said yes… even without Loki’s… arrival. I think I have always known that you and I… we are very different people.” Sitting back in his chair, his gaze still locked on your own, “I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I’m sorry about what I’ve done… what I’ve said… How, shit, how I’ve behaved. I could say that it was my duty. I could tell you it was out of love, but the plain truth is that I have always been jealous of what you and Loki share.” “You’ll find it Steve. You really will. There’s a person out there waiting for you. And once you’ve found them, oh Steve, you’ll see that this… what we had, it’s a shadow. An illusion. Because love, real love, doesn’t come with caveats and catches. It is an undeniable force which, in my case, even the boundaries of time and space can not deny.” Something like a sob burst out of Steve, and you were surprised to see tears in his eyes, “I was so wrong. Could you ever forgive me?” “I want to, Steve. I really do... “ What more could you say? Patting his hand you started to rise, “I have to go now. Loki and I need to keep moving and I don’t want to risk running into Nick and Natasha. At least, not yet, anyway.” “Where are you planning to go?” “To the Avenger’s Tower. I believe I know what Mr. Fury has been planning all along.” Loki’s strong voice entered the conversation as smoothly as his arms wrapped possessively around your waist. Steve took in the protective stance of your returned lover with a raised eyebrow, and without further comment asked Loki, “Really? And how are you going to breach the building? They’ll be looking for you, even with disguises… Fury is no fool. Plus, there’s little chance that Tony hasn’t activated a million safety and security protocols by now.” Only interested in you, Loki refused to give Steve any of his attention, “Getting in can’t be that hard! I’ll figure it out when I get there. Ready pet?” With a gentle push under his broad hands your feet started to move towards the door. Loki was eager to be off and away, especially after hearing so much of Roger’s confession. Just knowing what Steve had done, manipulating you while also convinced of his love for you; it was enough for Loki to commit murder. He was having quite a difficult time not tearing the good Captain’s limbs off his body. Softening his tone, Steve practically pleaded, “Loki. Wait. I… I can help.” Turning his attention fully to your former flame, Loki purred venomously, “You can help? I’d love to know what entails, Captain.” “I can get you into the place and take you exactly where you need to go. Fury’s going to hate it, but I’m tired of taking orders that hurt the people that-” His pause was as lingering as the look he gave you, “- That I love.” Before Loki could offer a sincerely sassy reply you grabbed his sleeve, tugging, “Um… Excuse us a minute Steve.” Pulling him down the hall of a home that felt like a familiar faced stranger, you waited until you had a bit of distance from Steve before harshly whispering, “How long were you listening?”

Serving you that small, sexy smile, Loki grinned, “Long enough. How did you know I was there?” “You are sneaky, but even you, God of Mischief, cast a shadow.” Swinging you close enough to catch your mouth with his own, Loki pressed a sweet kiss there before answering, “A mistake I will be careful not to make again!” “The tower, huh? That’s where you want to go?” Grabbing you at the swell of your hips, grinding his frame against your own, “Where I want to go, my darling, is to the nearest bed, preferably naked, with you and you alone.” Your hands traced over the lapels of his borrowed leather duster, pausing only to jerk him closer by the supple fabric, “Hmm… is that so?” “Oh yes…” Loki’s buttery grumble filled your ear as his strong hands dug into the flesh of your bottom. For a moment you thought he’d give in to temptation, his sweet lips teasingly close to your own upturned mouth, “But-” On your toes, leaning into Loki’s sturdy, leather draped frame, you paused, “Ugh. But?” Moving you to a safer, less kissable, arms length away, Loki sighed with the same frustration you felt, “-But, where we need to go, as soon as possible, is the Tower.” Moaning grumpily, you stepped out of the arms you longed to linger in, “I was afraid you were going to say that.” “I know it’s less than… ideal, love, but I did find something useful before the good Captain unburdened his soul this morning.” “And that is?” “Fury’s plan. At first I couldn’t figure out exactly what he was after. What did Fury want? How was I involved?” Loki was dragging this out, loving how it kept you hanging onto his every word, and you rolled your eyes, “Well? What is it? Weapons? War?” “All of that, yes… and… yours truly.” That triumphant smile that filled Loki’s whole face lit up his mischievous eyes. Tilting your head, struggling to make sense of what Loki had just told you, “What do you mean, you. Fury wanted you… to do what, exactly?’ “Loki was going to be the patsy.” You both turned toward the sound of Steve’s baritone at the door, suddenly remembering that the Good Captain was still there and that he was waiting to see what you were going to do next. Leaning his 100 year old bones into the doorframe, Steve crossed his arms, “The fall guy. An example of what happens if you cross SHIELD.” “I think, my dear Mr. Rogers, that you mean, I am to be used as an example of what happens if one crosses Nick Fury.” Loki countered, slinging an arm over your shoulder protectively. The idea was frightening. A man like Fury had too much power, too much at his disposal. Just knowing the lengths he had gone to in order to keep you and Loki apart was scary enough. Making enemies of your friends. Threatening the people you loved. Selling your affection to Steve in an effort to control Loki.

Now, the knowledge that all of it was done in an effort to ensure that Nick Fury was the toughest guy in the galaxy, it made your stomach clench. “What do you mean, an example?” “Unless my intelligence is flawed, I believe that Fury was going to kill me. Is that correct, Captain?” Steve felt the weight of two sets of eyes on him. Yours, full of fearful love and blind hope that this was all just some misunderstanding. Innocent and naive and as lovely as he could ever remember. Loki’s were reflecting a deeper understanding. The kind of knowledge that only time in the trenches teaches. There was no answer from Captain Rogers. None was needed. Honesty, final and resolute, was out in the open. “Look. I know I’m not the guy you want on your side. I’ve… I haven’t been the man I needed to be. Not for you-” Steve locked his bright blues onto you, offering a small smile that spoke of sadness before facing Loki, “-Or you, Loki. But if you let me help you now, I promise that I can get you into the tower and maybe, one day, you won’t think so little of me.”

Around you the morning gained strength. Somewhere nearby birds chirped wildly, blissfully unaware of the drama unfolding in the modest little farmhouse and its implications on intergalactic politics. Without moving a muscle, Loki plainly asked you, “Do you trust him, dearest?” Squaring your shoulders, you crossed your arms, staring down the man called Captain America. Nodding decisively, “I do. I don’t think he’d spill everything like that only to turn on us. He’s not so bad Loki, really.” “We’ll see about that. For now, we trust Steve. Ok, what’s your plan, Rogers?” --- “Hey. I… I have one other thing to show you.” Steve was dressed for action in his branded tactical gear, looking every inch the super soldier that Dr. Erskine envisioned. “Steve, we have to get moving. Loki’s eager and -” “Just open it, ok?” The envelope was thick with folded paper, the flap tucked under and not sealed. Clearly it had spent time in and out of pockets, the edges frayed and tattered. In exasperated curiosity you gingerly pulled the sheets free.

Shaking, your hands trembled holding the once white documents as your voice thickened, “Is this… is this what I think it is?” Cocking his head playfully, that rueful smile pulling at his full mouth, Steve almost seemed cheerful as he teased, “It’s yours. I think something about this place has always been yours and I want you to have it.” “But-” Folding your small hands in his mighty ones, Steve squeezed gently, “It was a wedding present, or it was supposed to be.” “But we’re not getting married.” “I know. Still-” “I can’t, Steve. It’s yours. Your house, your farm, your dream.” Shaking his head, disagreeing, but feeling lighter than he had in decades, Steve insisted, “Too late, I’m afraid. It’s done. Actually, that version of the deed has been signed since our second week here.” As realization sunk in you appraised the man changing right before your eyes, astonished but exhilarated, “Where will you go?” “I dunno. Think I might need to be alone for a bit. Maybe see the world… but first-” “First, we have to stop Nick Fury.”

To Be Continued... My Minxes: @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @iamverity @mizfit2 @sammy-jo1977 @wolfsmom1 @jessiejunebug @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @procrastinatinglikeabitch @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @alexakeyloveloki @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @jenjen8675309 @that-one-person @roguewraith @toomanystoriessolittletime @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote

#loki x reader #loki x you #you x loki #loki smut #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #mcu smut #MCU fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction

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sugarmaplewings-fics · 4 years

Text

Partners

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Warnings: None

A/N:

Okay, so this one has a lot behind it. Technically, this is the first request I ever received (I’d say I got this one around late July?). It was 100% my intent to do all three characters, and it still is, but I got caught up in Bakugou’s and kind of konked on the other two. Also I realized how fricking long this was and thought it would be weird to have as a headcanon-y format.

I spent way too much time strategizing this (I remember literally laying in bed from like 2-4 AM rewatching episodes to get Bakugou’s fighting technique down and taking notes while also thinking about my new OC, who debuts here), but I honestly had the most fun writing this??? Like, I was high key using my brain for this and it was fun. Anyway, I hope it didn’t come out too cringey. If you want to talk to me about my OC, please please please come in my inbox, I am so happy to see you there!

I will finish this request! Sometime! When motivation re-strikes me! I’m about half-way done with Kirishima’s and I have a solid idea for Amajiki’s (different quirks).

I really hope you like this! This was new and experimental for me, and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out!

-Sugar

The class of 1-A stood in a small grouping, facing their teacher, All Might. They were preparing to begin their hero training for the day, anticipating for when the instructor would receive the go-ahead to begin class. Finally, All Might tapped a finger to the piece in his ear, a person on the other end offering confirmation that the grounds were ready.

"All right, young boys and girls," he said. "Today, we're doing some sparring practice in pairs. You will be graded on your tactic and skill."

He began to go over the general rules, which were the same as always; quirks are completely allowed, nothing dirty, he would interfere if he thought necessary. The objective was much like the sports festival where you needed to either immobilize your partner or push them out of bounds, yadda dadda da.

When he finally began listing off teams, you eagerly listened for your own last name to be read off his sheet.

"—Tokoyami and Shouji, (L/N) and Bakugou, Midoriya and—"

There it was! Your name! And a certain someone else's . . . .

Your eyes flicked around your assembled class, easily locating the blond spikes haphazardly sprouting from his head.

If it wasn't your sweet rival, Bakugou Katsuki.

The two of you were at the top of the class, constantly bumping heads on everything from test scores to hero training.

Oh, this is going to be good . . . .

You'd never fought one on one with quirks with each other before, and you already anticipated getting to know how your respective powers might clash. It wasn't as though the thought hadn't crossed your mind before—quite the opposite, in fact.

You felt considerably prepared for your mini battle with how much you'd watched him over the past months; learning his moves, how he thought, anything from what drove him forward to things that made him tick. You'd caught glimpses of Midoriya's hero notebook where he had information on all his classmates, and a part of you cockily doubted that you would even need something like that when it came to how well you knew your rival by now.

Nevertheless, you began to plot out strategies and stretch while you waited your turn, scenarios playing out in your head as you attempted to plan for any move he could try to pull against you.

Your quirk was called Panic. You could affect the fear response in someone's brain with high frequencies. Your signature attacks came from long, loud screams to make someone wet their pants, but you were also perfectly capable of making odd squeaky noises for a tasty sense of looming uneasiness in your opponent. You had learned some combat techniques, but for the most part you did better at long range; trying to immobilize the enemy enough to swoop in unexpected and secure them.

No one was wearing their hero costume, only in their gym uniforms. This would provide a slight disadvantage to you because you didn't have your directional speaker, but it wasn't the most necessary support item. You could function well enough without it.

Every now and then, you'd be knocked out of your meticulous scheming to watch some of your fellow classmates spar. There were a few pairs going at one time, but you were placed in one of the last sets, so you had the advantage of time to strategize. Eventually, however, you were called into one of the training rings, straightening and confidently adjusting your blue and white jacket.

You met Bakugou's fiery red eyes from across the way, teasingly waving at him and smirking. His gaze darted away from yours, stubbornly deciding to glue itself to the floor.

He wouldn't go easy on you. In fact, quite the contrary. You knew he'd give you everything he had and more, and you were more than prepared to do the same for him.

In a matter of minutes, your feet were planted in the loosely packed dirt of the training ring, several meters away from where Bakugou stood across from you, stretching out his arms. Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for the signal to go, scraping the most important points you'd worked out earlier to the front of your brain.

After what felt like forever, the siren blared in your ears, causing you to tense, ready to begin your round with your explosive rival.

You shot towards him, wanting to get as close as possible. You expected he might try to stay away, keeping a distance so your quirk wouldn't affect him so much. Instead, he stood his ground, holding out his palms to you as you approached. Internally, you faltered, wondering what he was planning to do.

Nevertheless, you kept running forward, getting as close as you dared before drawing in a breath to scream and release your power. You noticed Bakugou flinch as sound began to leak from your throat, but he quickly fired off an explosion in your direction, drowning out the sound.

Of course! You internally smacked yourself. You relied on him being able to hear your screams in order for your quirk to affect him. He would have to use his explosions to drown out the sound.

Your mind began to spin, trying to formulate a new plan, when he began making an advance on you. Loud, crackling explosions danced off his hands, not horribly powerful, but boy, were they loud. You cringed at them, resisting the urge to cover your own ears to protect yourself from the noise. He kept coming closer, heat and smoke flickering over your face, causing you to take a step back, then another.

So that's his plan, you thought, taking another step in the direction of the boundary lines. He knows he can't really fight hand-to-hand, and there's no way either of us are going to admit defeat, so he's trying to push me out.

Your objective was to either knock him unconscious or chase him out of bounds, but this could be used to your favor if you timed it correctly.

Quirks are physical abilities too, you remembered hearing Midoriya say. Even Kacchan has his limits.

Push him to his limits. That's what you had to do.

You let him fire off blast after blast, keeping as far out of his reach as you could while leading him around the arena. He didn't have much choice but to keep going. If he stopped, you would be able to use your quirk on him, and you had a good chance of winning with one as powerful as yours. He simply had to keep a clear head and try to push you further towards the white boundary lines. Every now and then, he would lunge forward, trying to grab at you, and you would shriek at him, smirking as a moment of panic flashed across his face when the piercing noise slipped into his ears. This also served to make him all the angrier, lips curling into a snarl at your dominion over his emotions.

You made sure to keep your distance. You weren't wearing your hero costume, which would have helped in the sense that he wouldn't have been able to grab your mouth from under the directional speaker you wore over your mask, but you were grateful you didn't have to deal with his gauntlets.

You didn't like that he kept moving, and a small part of you was almost certain your fear and anxiety-inducing quirk would make his palms sweat even more, but there wasn't more you could pull against him. You just had to keep going until one of you exhausted yourself.

The smoke wasn't helping you. It scratched at your throat and stung your eyes. The scent of burning sugar filled the air, and you wondered how much more the both of you could take.

There it was, a wince from behind one of the black clouds, a falter in one of the fiery blasts. He was growing tired, but you knew from his expression of blank determination he wouldn't stop no matter what toll it took on his body. Anything for him to win, but you were the same way. Though he'd been focusing on the sound levels of his quirk rather than the force of each blow, it had still been taxing, and you knew that now was your chance.

The whole time, you'd been on the defensive, trying to save your voice and keep out of the way until this very moment, but now was the time of offense. You began to work the two of you over to the boundary lines, hoping to lull Bakugou into a false sense of security that he was getting you where he wanted.

Without warning, you leapt forward, going in to knock his feet from under him. If you got him on the ground, it would be easier for you to secure his hands and grab his head, which would ensure the win for you.

He snarled and leapt back. His reflexes were phenomenal, but in his moment of defense, he dropped from using his quirk. Bingo.

A deafening sliver of silence followed his motion, which you quickly filled with a piercing scream, one of the loudest you could muster.

His eyes widened and he stumbled, another explosion firing off as a flash of fear coursed through his body. You went for his feet again, and this time you wouldn't let up, pulsing high-pitched shriek after shriek to keep him on edge. He tried to keep on his toes, swinging at you almost blindly as you darted forward and dodged.

You'd learned that if you didn't do it enough, the fear and adrenaline of your enemy could work against you, heightening their senses and reflexes, and if you did it too much, your opponent might get used to your effect. Now, however, you knew to work quickly, forcing your influence into his head until he would struggle to think clearly, landing a good blow to his knees.

He crumpled forward, and you straddled yourself on top of him easily, taking his hands in one of yours behind his back and using the other to clutch at the base of his neck. You could feel his heart pounding underneath you, see his eyes rolling in his skull. The thought crossed your mind to pity him.

You loved your quirk, occasionally delighting in how easy it was to assert a certain amount of control over people. But you weren't a monster, and the idea of needlessly terrifying your classmates brought a curl to your lip in distaste. But this was your rival, Bakugou Katsuki. Maybe he deserved to be put in his place. Just a little.

You leaned forward and put your lips to his ear, letting out a final, high-frequency hum directly into his canal. You felt him seize up beneath you, hearing how his breathing changed as he tried to suck in breaths to calm himself. You wouldn't let up, however, and before long, you felt him go limp under your belly.

You stood after making sure he had slipped from consciousness, pride filling your chest. You'd done it. You'd won out over your rival.

You looked around and made eye contact with Cementoss, who had been monitoring your half of the fighting rings. He nodded at you approvingly and advanced to take Bakugou out of the ring.

You flounced back to the room where your classmates had been watching the sparring matches, allowing yourself to relish in the way everyone's eyes turned towards you.

"(L/N) shojo," All Might said. "Excellent job."

The silence of the class was cleared and everyone who was still in the room surged forward to congratulate you.

"You beat Bakugou!"

"That was amazing!"

"You really did it!"

Once everyone had settled, you excused yourself to go to the locker rooms.

On your way, you ran into Bakugou, who had since woken up from the little nap you'd forced him into.

"Oi, Bakugou," you said, the sound of your voice causing his blond head to whip around. You approached him and stuck out a hand. "Good match."

He glared at your hand and smacked it away. Why did his reaction kind of . . . hurt?

"Shut up!" he yelled. "Next time, you won't—you won't beat me so easily, mouse." He nearly choked when he had to admit that you had won against him.

"Still calling me a mouse?" you asked, tilting your head and smirking.

"You still squeak like one," he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Don't think I'm done with you. You might have won today, but don't get used to it."

"Oh, I think I just might," you said cockily, breezing past him to slip into the girls' locker room door.

Bakugou growled at your disappearing back. What the hell was wrong with you? More importantly, what the hell was wrong with him?

He gripped at the back of his neck where you'd grabbed him, shivering at the memory of the sensation of your lips to his ear.

He had to snap out of it. You were his enemy. The only place you should have in his mind were in thoughts of how to overcome you, how to pound you into the ground until he came out on top above you.

And yet you wouldn't leave his head, and he found his eyes chasing your form nearly every day he saw you.

Bakugou snarled to himself, snapping him out of these thoughts and pushing himself from the locker room entrances. He would find a way to beat you. He wouldn't stop until he figured out a way to do it.

He wouldn't rest until he sorted out these feelings too, whatever they were.

Bakugou's black boots clicked on the floor as he exited the building. This was only the beginning of your saga together, and the two of you refused to enter passively.

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡⁎*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡

Taglist: @basicaegyo @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @sendhelpimstupid @sokkasangel @xoxopam4

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nonasuch · 5 years

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how I would fix star wars

inevitably, I have been thinking about How I Would Fix Star Wars, and make the parts of TRoS that displeased me into a more coherent story.

unfortunately, to do so will require the use of a time machine and veto power over the Lucasfilm Story Group. but IF I had those things here is what I would do:

I actually would not make a lot of changes to TFA. The main ones would be:

toning down Starkiller a bit as a threat, to a one-shot-per-planet deal but with a faster recharge time

slightly more stormtrooper stuff -- establish what Finn’s leaving behind and give Phasma a little depth.

if possible, put some kind of distinguishing visual marker on the trooper who marked Finn’s helmet.

a small background detail that isn't important yet: after the village massacre at the beginning, show stormtroopers collecting the bodies, trooper and villager alike. if possible, do this after every scene with a significant body count, throughout all three movies.

either give the knights of ren some actual stuff to do or cut them out entirely

show kyle chafing at snoke’s leash, maybe demanding to know more about some of snoke’s various Secret Projects, and being dismissed

give rey a little time to settle in with the Resistance before leaving to find Luke. we don't have to show it much, just make it clear that she’s making a home there and has bonded strongly with Leia

clean up some weird pacing and make the travel times/distances between planets more consistent

honestly other than that I wouldn't change much. I genuinely like TFA a lot and its strength is in how well it establishes the new characters.

for TLJ, some bigger changes but the bones of it I'd leave alone:

make it more clear why the tracking through hyperspace is a big deal and make the solution less of a fetch quest

I really like parts of the Canto Bight plot but I would probably swap it out for something with more stormtroopers in it -- let Finn interact with other troopers and remind us that there are individuals under those helmets

(a recurring joke: Finn can always tell troopers apart when they’re in uniform, and Rose can never figure out how. he thinks it’s because he was a trooper, but no, it's because he’s Force sensitive)

maybe get close to convincing some of them to desert, but either they fail last-minute or the deserters get caught and killed

Finn and Rose escape by the skin of their teeth thanks to a trooper who helps them, letting them know that even if they aren't brave enough to leave, there are plenty of troopers who aren't all-in with the First Order

again, after any major fight show the body cleanup. troopers carrying and stacking the dead in neat rows. start hinting that there is something more ominous here than fanatical tidiness

the Snoke stuff -- make it more obvious that Snoke is orchestrating stuff other than just running the First Order. maybe have Hux ask about the cargo ships they're sending to the Unknown Regions, and get shot down

make part of Kyle’s refusal to leave w Rey due to his burning need to Know All The Secrets, and conviction that as Supreme Leader he could really clean up the joint

once Snoke is dead, show Kyle getting access to his secret files/vaults; do NOT show what he finds there

I'd also want to clean up some wonky pacing and timeline/travel distance stuff, probably, but again I really like most of the movie so it’s nothing major

also keep Phasma around for the next movie! what the fuck, she rules, why would you not

okay so that brings us to TRoS, which… would need a pretty major overhaul.

First of all, we are working under the assumption that I have a time machine, so I made Carrie Fisher go to the cardiologist on the reg starting on day 1 of TFA rehearsals, and she’s fine and able to play the part as she was meant to.

with that in place, here’s how I would restructure:

we keep the Hammer Horror opening scene, but tweak the Emperor’s reveal. he’s much more corpse-y, without the tech umbilical keeping him alive -- a wraith animated by Dark power.

lots of grandiose claims about his unstoppable army and his impending dominion over the galaxy, ultimate triumph over the Light, etc

don't show the armada yet -- just kyle’s reaction, which is genuine fear.

news of the Emperor’s return isn't a broadcast, but a whisper. a transmission from a terrified First Order cargo pilot, who’s learned the truth about his one-way trip to the Unknown Regions. passed through the lower ranks by rumor and hearsay. eventually leaked to the Resistance by an unknown First Order source

I like the idea from the beginning of the movie, that Rey’s trying to speak to dead Jedi through the Force. but it’s not working, and she shares her frustration with Leia

make it clear that she and Leia have a deep, strong bond.

give Rey a Jedi artifact to hunt for. maybe there’s a place or a thing that she thinks will let her commune with fallen Jedi, and that’s what they go looking for.

that lets us keep some of the fetch quest, but the First Order’s not as actively on their tail.

they keep crossing paths anyway, and every time there are troopers doing something worse. maybe at one point they see troopers refuse to massacre civilians, and being killed themselves instead.

also they take Rose with them, because this movie needs more Rose

still have those post-battle scenes of body cleanup. now the cleanup crews are being killed once they’re done

this could be a good use for the Knights of Ren, actually. whatever is happening, they're part of it

Leia is more active throughout: she's on the move, recruiting allies for the Resistance, trying to figure out what's happening in the Unknown Regions

she has an actual scene with Lando, and he goes to Rey on her orders

tweak Poe’s backstory with Zorii. he worked with her while undercover for the Resistance, and left them in the lurch when the General needed him back.

he’d have recruited her, if there had been time, but now he's glad he didn't: most everyone Poe recruited to the Resistance died at Crait.

when Rey crosses paths with Kyle, he’s obviously rattled. he Knows Something that he won't or can't tell her and he's even more fatalistic than usual.

lean harder on the unease/whispers of dissent in the First Order as they're told to do more and more awful things. maybe a scene where someone -- not Hux -- disagrees openly, and Kyle says something that implies that he's getting orders from someone above his head.

this gives Hux a chance to snark at Kyle -- isn't he supposed to be the Supreme Leader, now? who's telling him what to do?

off Kyle’s reaction -- someone is telling him what to do, and he's terrified of them in a way he never was of Snoke.

(keep Hux-as-informant, that was done perfectly)

Rey’s artifact hunt still takes her to the Death Star wreckage, off rumors that Palpatine hoarded Jedi artifacts.

we meet Janna &co. Finn is so relieved and happy to meet other troopers who survived defecting. Janna tells him that there used to be more, that it used to be easier to get out, but more and more troopers have been killed in the attempt, without escaping.

by now it’s clear: there is Something Wrong With The First Order, beyond the obvious.

Rey fights Kyle in the Death Star ruins. Kyle tells her the Emperor wants to turn her to the Dark Side, that he can’t be refused or stopped, that even death won’t let her escape from him.

the fight plays out similarly, but Leia’s distraction doesn't kill her.

after Rey heals him, Kyle faces his fear and talks to Leia via Force bond. He tells her what the Emperor is planning, and it’s Ben Solo who leaves the ruins.

he can give Leia files or some other concrete proof via the same trick he uses with Rey in the movie, because that’s honestly very cool and it was used really well, so we’re keeping that

when Rey talks to Luke on Ach-To, he tells her that Palpatine used the Empire to sow chaos and fear, because that made the Dark Side stronger and gave him more power to tap into.

Luke says: “I think he would have been happy to burn the whole galaxy down, as long as he could rule over the ashes.”

Rey realizes she can’t hide from the Emperor, and knows he’ll never turn her to the Dark. she goes after him.

Leia sends the Resistance to back Rey up and sets out to rally the galaxy with Lando and Chewie

finally, it’s confrontation time! Rey faces Zombie Palpatine, and he reveals his plan in all its glory:

he’s built an army of the dead. ghost ships, crewed by all those bodies we've been watching the First Order collect for three movies.

some of them we recognize, if we’re paying attention: the trooper who marked Finn’s helmet, Lor San Tekka, Hux. there are long-dead clone troopers, little more than skeletons in filthy white armor. half-functional Separatist droids. Resistance fighters and First Order officers killed on Crait. countless civilians.

they’re all dead, all animated by Palaptine’s Dark Side powers, fueled by the strife and chaos he continues to sow throughout the galaxy

he doesn’t want to blow up any more planets. he wants to kill the shit out of absolutely everyone: the end of all life, and all Light. everyone in the galaxy a soldier in his undead army

he wants Rey to strike him down and become the new Sith Empress, ruling over an empire of ashes.

but we are discarding the granddaughter shit, because frankly it is not necessary and makes no sense.

he can just be like ‘ah yes, a feral desert child, powerful in the Force, with no inconvenient ties to hold her back. I've had good luck with those, mostly.’

now, a brief side trip: what is the First Order doing, in the midst of all this?

well, the rank and file are actually not super down with the ‘join the glorious army of the dead’ plan. half of them are in open revolt; some try to run, some seize control of their ships and decide to fight for the living

Phasma leads Team Living. yeah, I kept her for a reason! Gwendoline Christie is great at this!

Ben shows up as before, fights the Knights, does the cool lightsaber trick with Rey. he fights with Leia’s saber.

when Palpatine drains their life force to restore himself, though, something happens differently:

it’s actually Leia’s life force. she gives up her life for her son and for the daughter of her heart, willingly and gladly, knowing she has rallied the galaxy to their aid. she tells them, before she goes, that help is on the way

the giant fleet that arrives to fight Palpatine has First Order ships in it. finally, everyone is on the same side. Palpatine has been playing both sides against each other since Episode 1, but it won't work anymore, now that they know what he wants. the long con is over. they're united against him.

Rey beats Palpatine the same way, Ben revives her the same way, but Leia’s sacrifice means he has enough juice left to survive it.

idk about the kiss; I am Reylo-agnostic

but he’s going to try to shepherd the First Order into something that builds and protects, instead of destroying.

people like Janna and Finn, who got out, and Rose, who lived under their heel, will show him how.

Finn is Force sensitive, and so are some of the other former troopers.

some of them want to become Jedi

Finn wants to follow Leia’s path: do the training so he understands how to use the Force, but he's not meant to be a Jedi. he's going to be a leader -- not a general, hopefully, but a leader for peacetime.

so like. they won! hooray.

Rey takes the name Skywalker, still. Ben is fine with this: he’s a Solo-Organa.

there can be a touching Force ghost reconciliation, or not, whatever

so. that is how to fix star wars. you’re welcome. if anyone out there has a time machine and an in with Lucasfilm, hit me up I guess?

#star wars #spoilers #star wars spoilers #purely notional fiction #long post

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saiilorstars · 4 years

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Ch.3: Memories

Chapter summary: The next Shadow Sailor Guardian has awakened and is determined to find her princess no matter what, leaving Azula, Mamoru and Meroko scrambling for numbers and a good plan against her.

Fandom: Sailor Moon (Crystal) – – [Rewrite of season 2, AU-ish in that there’s new OCs and the fusion of plots from the manga, crystal and the og series]

Pairings: Eventual OFC x OMC, Usagi x Mamoru

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @perfectlystiles

{If you’d like to be added to this OC’s taglist, let me know!}

// Story Masterlist //

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Sailor Hemera and Prince Endymion walked alongside each other along the dry field.

"My people were originally from the Sun," Sailor Hemera gestured to the setting sun in the sky. "But then it became uninhabitable and we had to move. We found a home in Shadow and merged with its people. They procreated and now here I am."

"But you're not...exactly like the people from...Shadow?" Endymion gestured to where the supposed Shadow kingdom was. He was still tempted to try and go through the invisible barrier but he was also interested in this Sailor Scout before him. Up until this morning he believed there were only Sailor Scouts belonging to Silver Millennium.

"No," Sailor Hemera shook her head. "With each new generation we began to lose our Sun abilities and now they've become almost scarce. The powers of the light on Shadow are truly rare nowadays. I have been gifted with these powers and I believe they were given to me to use them for a higher purpose."

"And what would that be exactly?"

"To protect my Kingdom, my Queen, and my Princess."

Mamoru woke up from his sleep with a terrible pit in his stomach. He had been dreaming about that Sailor Hemera ever since she first appeared on the street. But not only was he dreaming about her, now he was getting brief compilations of other people. There were other men - generals, he believed - and then there were girls who had strange powers. What got him worse was the repeating girl with a golden crescent moon on her forehead he kept seeing. It frustrated him that her face was never clear.

He felt like he had done this before, but that was all a dream.

But then he saw another girl, with flaming red hair that he knew he had seen somewhere…

He was going to lose his mind, he was sure.

~ 0 ~

Azula ran her hands through her bright red hair for the tenth time and released a big, tired sigh. She rubbed her forehead and reached for the keypad in front of her. "I've gone through every facial recognition here, done the algorithms too, but this Sailor Hemera could be anyone, Luna," Azula dropped her hand from her forehead and gazed up at the large computer screen in front of them.

She and Luna were back in the base under the arcade trying to figure out who Sailor Hemera was. It had been days since the woman's first appearance and since then she had been flickering in and out saving those who fell under 'Senka's' path.

"Can't you, I don't know, go to the Moon again and do something magical there?" Azula gave Luna a weary glance. It had been days sleeping in late and waking up early for school because of this research.

"Usagi left it meaning everything there doesn't work," Luna reminded. Usagi had chosen to continue living as a regular human, without her memories, and so everything on the Moon would soon again perish from disuse.

"I swear to God one day I'm going to make a big ole supercomputer that can find me anything," Azula let her head drop on the keyboard much like Usagi would have done in that situation.

"I think you should get some rest, Azula. You've been working very hard since Sailor Hemera appeared," Luna truly appreciated how much the girl committed to taking care of the city and the memory-less scouts. "I can call Artemis in while you're out."

"That's great," Azula raised herself up and took a big breath in. She felt her stomach grumble and decided maybe taking a break wouldn't be so bad. She grabbed her purse on the floor and promised Luna she would be back later.

When she was out on the street she buttoned up her coat and did her best to fight against the cold. It had been getting mysteriously colder with each day. She walked into the Fruits Crown Parlor and ordered some nice, steaming coffee. That'll keep her awake for the day.

"Azula?" Minako called from her booth.

Azula, unsurprised, turned sideways to see Minako and Makoto sharing the booth while having lunch. Since Sailor Hemera's appearance, the two girls apparently had gotten to know each other better now. They had also been talking to Azula more now and it worried Azula that it would trigger their memories. Fortunately, nothing of the sort was happening yet.

"Unazuki, bring the order here," Minako called to the waitress. "Azula, you'll be having lunch with us, right?"

"Sure," Azula smiled weakly and went over to the two. "How are you guys?"

"Oh, you know, battling exams," Minako pretended to shiver.

"It would help if you studied," Makoto giggled but Minako rolled her eyes.

"I wanted to try out for the volleyball team!"

"And did you make it?" asked Azula curiously. She remembered that before everything happened with the Dark Kingdom, Minako desired nothing more than to join the volleyball team at her school.

"Yes!" cheered the blonde.

"The problem is-" Makoto began, earning herself a small glare from Minako for ruining the moment, "-that now her practices are getting in the way of her studying."

"It's not my fault! I mean, seriously, who can be expected to remember everything Haruna says?" Minako dramatically sighed. "I wish I was like that genius Mizuno Ami. She could probably remember everything just by looking at it."

Azula smiled to herself at the thought of Ami. She rarely saw Ami now. Like Rei, Ami barely left her home without her old friends. Azula figured the girl would probably spend her afternoons studying on her own. At least Azula could catch Rei sometimes at the nearby mall but it was really rare.

"Azula, you seem tired," Makoto remarked after catching Azula languidly blinking into space.

Minako reached for her soda can and glanced at Azula. "High school must be very difficult."

Azula didn't want to discourage them from their future. She smiled through her tiredness and shook her head. "It's the best. You guys will love it when you get there. I've just been having some rough nights."

"Probably trauma from that weird cloud thing calling herself Senka," Makoto offered, making Minako nearly choke on her soda.

"Don't remind me!" went the blonde.

Azula found it hard to believe this was the famous Sailor V, now scared of the mere mention of a cloud-shadow thing. Memories of that particular Sailor Guardian had also been erased, and thoroughly.

"You guys hear of the other attacks?" Makoto lowered her voice when she asked. "This Senka thing really wants to find that Shadow Crystal at all costs."

"What even is that?" Minako made a face.

"Wish I knew," Azula said with a small sigh. Because she, Luna and Artemis had been trying to figure that out ever since the first appearance.

The cats speculated Sailor Hemera and Senka were from another civilization among the galaxies. It was just hard to figure out which one. No matter how impressive those of the Silver Millennium are, their minds are not infinite to hold every information of every civilization in the universe. It was a long job to do, which explained the tiredness Azula carried.

After lunch was over, Azula figured she should get home to take a well needed nap. She had come down the stairs of the cafe when she spotted a familiar blonde stepping out of the arcade with ginger-haired girl.

"Oh hi, Azula," Usagi greeted her kindly and cheerfully. "You remember Naru?" she gestured to the girl beside her.

"Yeah," Azula nodded.

"I should go," Naru said, backing away, "We have that test tomorrow, Usagi. You can't forget!"

"I won't!" Usagi exclaimed but Azula knew damn well she would.

"Did you win at the Sailor V game today?" Azula asked after Naru was gone.

Usagi's face fell. "No," she muttered. "That game has to be rigged!"

"Impossible, I played it yesterday and I won," Azula said proudly but it just ticked Usagi off even more.

"I'm going to win one day-"

"Mhm…"

"I will!"

Azula laughed and stepped back, bumping into someone in the process. "Sorry!" she quickly said but began to stammer when she saw it was Mamoru. He turned sideways and stared her with a new look in his eyes, nothing like before. "S-sorry...I-I didn't mean…"

"You can't be serious," Mamoru put down a photograph on the table. His face was contorted into utter irritation.

Azula sat across him wearing a devious smirk. "I did the math, rose boy. It has to be you." Mamoru was not amused and Azula knew it. She laughed at it honestly. "You are Tuxedo Mask and there is nothing you can do to make me think otherwise. Your disappearances from school coincide with every public appearance Tuxedo Mask made, and Sailor Moon's for that matter. It's you."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I got bored."

"You're crazy," Mamoru let a little laugh out, but it was a shaky one. "I'm not him."

"Won't matter if I open my mouth," Azula leaned back on her chair. "All I have to do is point out your odd absences, your odd fashion choices, lack of coherent thoughts, and radical distancing...that should do the job. Doubt is very easy to implant in people who got nothing better to do."

"What do you want, then? Money?"

"My Dad owns the Crown arcade and the Fruits Crown Parlor shop. Money I got."

"Then what?"

Azula's smirk was wide as could be. "I want to meet Sailor Moon."

Mamoru blinked fast and rubbed the side of his head. Azula was staring in concern but didn't say anything. "Y-your name is Azula, right?" he finally spoke.

"Yeah…" the red-haired confirmed. There was something in his eyes that was flickering and Azula dreaded it. This was something she had seen in Usagi herself before truly discovering her identity.

Mamoru took an unexpected quick leave. Azula thought it was for the better, honestly.

"Wooooow," Usagi giggled beside her.

Azula noticed the blush on Usagi's cheeks and groaned. "You have got to be kidding me. You couldn't have had more than 30 seconds to look at him!"

Her words flew over Usagi's head. "Do you know him? Does he go to your school?"

"You're not kidding," Azula concluded. She didn't know much about love but she figured this had to be something about that cosmic, star-crossed love story of theirs. It appeared she wouldn't be getting her nap because Usagi was dead set on asking and asking about Mamoru.

~0~

Sailor Hemera was not used to working alone. Sure, she had guarded the sacred barrier between the Shadow Kingdom and the Earth Kingdom for countless years, but at the end of the day she would always come home to the palace where she would see her fellow guardians, Princess and Queen. Working alone had never been a part of her. She wasn't built like that...and yet here she was, awakened in a future where she knew no one. Humans surrounded her by the thousands.

"I must find my sister," she set herself for one goal at a time.

She understood that being awoken meant something was going to happen that would endanger her Princess. The problem was, she barely remembered herself what had happened centuries ago. Her mind wasn't completely awake yet. She was just sure that her Princess had been reborn, not awoken like she had, but truly reborn and reincarnated. Being that the case, it also implied that the Princess knew nothing of her real self and much less that she was in danger. Senka was on her way to find her and Sailor Hemera needed all the help she could get.

"Asteria, where are you?" Sailor Hemera whispered in the lonely, abandoned factory she had turned into her temporary home.

There were no leads so far on any of her people. They were probably still sleeping - well, Asteria was probably on her way to waking up judging by that coldness that never seemed to leave the air now.

"But what if I'm not entirely alone?" Sailor Hemera got to thinking about the only other person she'd managed to remember besides her Guardian comrades, Princess and Queen. "That Earth Prince had to have been reborn too. It's law that every planet have a protector."

So maybe she could start her search with him first. After all, he had powers too and any help towards finding Princess Reign was good.

"Your world is fascinating, Prince, but humans are humans. They have no power," Sailor Hemera had said so calmly and kind. She did not mean any offence but was merely pointing out a fact.

"No, but that does not mean we are any less brave," Prince Endymion said, sure of himself.

Sailor Hemera gave him a sharp look. "Your highness, Queen Nyx informed my comrades and I that the royal human family did hold several unique powers. I know for a fact you have powers."

"Your Queen seems very informed despite living behind this…" he gestured to the invisible barrier beside them, "...wall."

"Well, she held a close relationship to your family."

"But not with me."

"She knew that you were young and still learning. But she has gotten ill, you must understand."

"Must I prove myself to meet with her?"

"No, you-"

But Endymion did not wait for the answer. He was growing impatient not being able to see this Queen Nyx who had settled herself onto his planet. He stared at Sailor Hemera with a new look, a powerful one too. Before she could figure out what he was doing, she heard his voice in her mind.

'I have a right to see Queen Nyx and discuss her stay on my world. If I cannot see her, I demand to see the next in line.'

Sailor Hemera was in utter shock. "You can...you can go into my mind!?"

The prince simply smirked. "And the best part is, due to your linkage with your Guardian comrades, they have heard the warning too."

"Oh he will definitely help me," Sailor Hemera nodded to herself.

He owed Princess Reign, after all.

#ocappreciation #sailor moon #sailor moon crystal #fd: sailor moon #sailor moon oc #sailor moon fics #sailor moon imagines #oc: azula keena #oc: sailor reign #fic: reign from the shadows

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storytelers-arc · 3 years

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KEIKO O’BRIEN — HEADCANONS && TIMELINE

Chester the Cat. As far as Miles knows, Keiko and Chester hate each other and never spend any time together. Because that’s what they show him. See, Keiko was angry that Miles brought back a cat without telling her. Molly had been pestering them for a pet for weeks and they said they would talk about it. Instead, he showed up with a cat that used to belong to a criminal. And well, Keiko knows how to hold a grudge. So, she pretends to hate the cat. When really, the second Miles leaves the house, the cat jumps on her lap and doesn’t move until Miles gets home (Chester is a smart cat and gets that Keiko will only pet him when Miles is away). It becomes a little game between Keiko and the children, all of them going along with this supposed hatred of Keiko’s.

Religion. Keiko is an atheist, but she does go with Kira to do the shrine sometimes. To pray for the children, to support her friend. She doesn’t really believe in it, but she knows it's important to her friend and a little extra protection has never hurt anyone.

Post canon. Her work in Bajor really impressed Starfleet. She was once again commissioned to work for them, this time assisting in the Seed Vault project and doing similar work to the one she did on Bajor (helping war-torn plants get their agriculture kick started again by breeding plants that had almost gone extinct).

first years, professor.

I find the whole ‘Keiko has left the station to punish MIles’ plot kind of stupid and clearly it’s because the writers didn’t want to deal with the fact Miles was a family man. She is angry at Miles (even though she supported his decision to move there) because she didn’t fully understand how isolated she would be until she got there, how little there was for her to do at the station. But they are partners and she is not going to abandon him and take their child so she can teach him a lesson. Sure, at one point she briefly leaves (to visit her family, to go to a conference) but she probably doesn’t go all the way to Earth since that trip supposedly takes a while).

Keiko becomes a full-time professor when she realizes the kids have no place to study, that they are all learning alone. She also convinces some of the shopkeepers to let her plant some flowers in the Promenade, making the whole place more welcoming.

With the decrease of the Bajoran population at the school, Keiko has to close it. But she still teaches Jake and Nog, just in a less structured manner. She assists them with what they need, checks up on their work, makes sure they are progressing. This is actually very beneficial for Nog. Nog had always struggled in the class environment as he was so far behind everyone else (even the kids) in most subjects. This way, she was able to sit him down and make sure he got a robust knowledge of all subjects.

bajorian expedition.

Miles, realizing his wife was unhappy, tried to find ways to connect her with her passion for biology again. He was able to get permission to build her a lab, but with a little help from Julian, he understood he was turning her passion into a hobby. He discovered an expedition to the Janitza Mountains needed a chief botanist. Keiko spent the planned 6 months there before moving back to the station.

Around that time, Shakaar was elected first minister of Bajor. Shakaar had become a farmer after the occupation ended and making sure the land was rich again and that every Bajorian was not only fed, but fed with food grown in Bajor that was similar to the food they once planted was important to him. Through Kira, he got to know Keiko and he had heard she had impressed a lot of Bajorian scientists during the expedition. SInce the Janitza mountains had never been explored before (and the Cardassians had never gone there), the knowledge she gained there made her the perfect choice to lead a team that is going to study Bajoran soil and find natural ways to restore the soil.

Another important mission of this group is to salvage plants that went extinct during the occupation. She visits several camps that the Bajorans had spread to during the occupation to retrieve plants and find specimens in good condition that she can breed and plant later back in Bajor.

dominion war

After Bajor signs a non-aggression agreement with the Dominion her contract is suddenly terminated as the Dominion thought she was going to act as a spy for the Federation (which, to be honest, Sisko did consider but they were also thinking of pulling Keiko back for her safety).

She stays on the station until the season 5 when it’s no longer safe for her to remain there (the station is than occupied by the bajorans). Before she left, during the months between her work in Bajor ending and her leaving, Keiko worked in the reconstructed bay that Miles had built for her. She focused on some of her own work, focusing on one of her main fields of study — old japanese plants.

She spends almost an year on Earth during the Dominion War. She lives in Kumatoto with her parents, Molly and Yoshi. She takes a teaching position at Tokyo University, teaching bioinformatics.

When things started to return to normal, Keiko returned to DS9. Her lab had withered away. She spent a few months finishing up some loose ends in Bajor, helping the team continue their work, but with Miles already considering taking up a position at the Academy, she didn’t want to get deeply involved with anything. It broke her heart not to revive her lab but she knew there was no one on the station (except Sisko) who would bother taking care of it.

She started to join Miles and Julian (when they allowed her) in their holodeck activities. She really enjoyed the Vic Fontaine program and she even took the role of 007 a few times much to Miles’s amusement.

#KEIKO O'BRIEN / general #KEIKO O'BRIEN / headcanon #hi i love keiko so dang much #anyways thank you writers for some ideas but i'm taking over

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goldleafacrossyourlips · 4 years

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Uneasy Lies the Head - Dark Lord/OC - Chapter 8

Chapters - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13

Chapter 8 - Mandrake’s Shriek

Samara liked to consider herself strong. She had survived her mother’s abuse. She had lived through Blackwood’s unwanted advances. But she was able to admit that she had one teensy little flaw. She liked to run. When the world got too much, Samara would flee to a safe place. Some people could face their problems head on, but more often than not, Samara couldn’t. Perhaps that’s why she had her Shadows. They could fight for her when she herself just couldn’t.

So after her family had caught her up on everything she’d missed during her little snooze; like Sabrina restoring Roz’ vision, Sabrina doing magick without spells or runes, and all that they had done during the angels’ visit. Samara had waited for everyone to leave either to their homes or their rooms and then she’d gathered Phlox and teleported to her little cottage.

The minute her feet landed in her sitting room, she’d collapsed to her knees. Falling back onto her bottom, she’d wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her face into them. Phlox had leaned his weight against her side and snuffled his snout under her arm and licked her cheek. Samara’s world zoned out and her only point of contact was Phlox. What could have lasted longer only lasted a few moments with Phlox’ incessant nudging and licking. Samara slowly raised her head and her hand played with the fur of his one ear. She tilted her head and rested her cheek on her knee.

She felt as the same something as before began to fill her. Not the power, but the presence. The icy cold, overheatedness of her body drained and the achy tightness of her chest eased. Gentle warmth began to fill the emptiness inside her. She heaved a deep sigh, her eyes slipping closed. What felt like a finger trailed down the back of her neck to across her shoulder down to gently grip her upper arm. Content assurance tickled the back of her mind. Her eyes fluttered open, to see what she knew wouldn’t be there.

Some disappointment filled her when she confirmed that she was alone other than her familiar. She could see her Shadows dancing along the walls, stirred up from her actions. She remained on the floor and simply watched as they flowed to a melody only they could sense. A brave Shadow skimmed along the floor until it could wrap around her ankle. Samara smiled softly and stroked along the skin it held, feeling the room shudder around her.

As the moon continued to move through the sky, going down for it’s nap and the sun began to wake up, Samara reflected. During the discussions her family and friends had held during the night she knew that Sabrina was deeply unsettled by what had happened. And Samara did hold pity for her cousin. No 16-17 year old girl should have to worry about the things she had to. She deserved to fully enjoy her childhood, by having friends and learning as much as she could either at Baxter High or at the Academy. She should be worrying about lovers and parties and other frivolous stuff. But what she deserved and what she was dealt were two entirely different things.

Samara knew her cousin, or at least she knew the version of her before Samara had left. She knew that Sabrina wouldn’t simply go along with the prophecy. She was too bound to the mortal world and her friends to let the Apocalypse happen. She knew that Sabrina would do whatever it took to make sure the Apocalypse was stopped. Something stupid and dangerous probably; but always with good intentions. And that’s what it was at its base. Good. Sabrina was wholly and intrinsically good. Whatever higher being that meddled in the Dark Lord’s plans had been smart. Hard to bring about the Apocalypse when one of its catalysts refused to do it.

Did Samara want to bring about the Apocalypse? Now that she thought about it, not really. She wasn’t overly fond of mortals but she didn’t hate them. Plus, she liked Earth how it was right now. But what really threw her through a whirl was the little royalty part. Her? Queen? The only thing she had dominion over was her garden and that was laughable at best. How did anyone expect her to rule over anything? Let alone people? Perhaps whoever had translated the prophecy had gotten it wrong. Her wrong at least. That had to be it. Why in the Heaven would Lucifer Morningstar want her as Queen? The only thing she was exceptional at was potion-making and baking!

Samara shook her head, realizing she was spiraling. The last thing she needed was to sit there and despair. No, the world had enough people that could wallow in their self-pity and confusion. She was a Spellman for Satan’s sake! Maybe not in blood but in everything that counts. She was going to plan and plot, just like she knew the rest of her family was doing. She was sure her cousin was figuring out a way to stop the Apocalypse. So that’s what she’d do. In case Sabrina failed, she’d have a back up plan.

So Samara picked herself up off the ground, dusted off her bottom and went to her workshop. Digging through her extra wares, she found the vial she was looking for and flicked it open. Taking 3 small sips of the minty concoction, she felt as her mind cleared and began to focus. It was time to put her brain to work.

After what felt like days but were really only hours, Samara resurfaced to reality. She had a tentative plan. While it wasn’t something that her cousin would concoct full of bravery and blatant flourishes, it could work. She hoped it would at least. She also sort of hoped that it wouldn’t come down to her plan.

Phlox had spent his time waiting for her curled up across the room on the armchair he had claimed years ago. His dark eyes had watched her unblinkingly but Samara was used to his overly-intelligent stare. She stood up and approached him, stroked a hand through his plush fur.

“Thank you, my friend. For putting up with my antics and always standing by my side.” She had whispered before sighing. “I suppose we should head back before everyone starts to worry. My mirror has been pinging for a few hours now. I think they’ve noticed our escape.”

She shouldn’t have been surprised by that honestly. The sun was just starting to descend over the horizon and exhaustion weighed heavily on her, depicting the time that had passed. Even though she had just woken up from such a long sleep the day before, she was still wiped. She made sure to pocket the rest of the invigorating potion she had sipped earlier. She had a feeling she’d need it today. Hopefully she could slip in the house unnoticed and take a nap before she announced her presence to the group.

She stood in the center of her sitting room and Phlox was quick to join her. She smiled down at him and then chanted her words to teleport. Landing roughly in her room at the Spellman’s house, Samara looked towards her bed wistfully. Just as she was about to step in its direction she felt her Shadows jolt in discord. Something was wrong. She looked around her and saw them crowding towards her door. The problem was downstairs then. She cast a longing look towards her bed before sipping her potion once again and slowly stalked out of the room. She could hear humming downstairs.

She rounded the stairs and followed the sounds into the botanical room, where Sabrina stood looking amongst the flora. She was wearing a plaid dress that Samara had never seen her in before. She continued to glance around and didn’t see what would’ve caused her Shadows to react so violently. She shrugged and approached her cousin.

“‘Brina?” The girl in question whipped around, sending a blinding smile her way.

“‘Mara! Where have you been?! I’ve missed you!” Sabrina exclaimed and wrapped Samara in a tight hug. Some guilt echoed throughout Samara at her cousin’s words, and she returned the embrace.

“Sorry, Cousin. I’ve just had a lot going on in my mind and I wanted to sort it all out. I’m back now though.” Samara reassured, stroking a hand across her cousin’s back. She felt the girl stiffen and pulled back in concern. To her shock Sabrina was glaring up at her.

“Are you though? You always leave! I needed you here and you left me! I was so scared and alone and I just wanted my Samara here to help me. But like always you were gone! Don’t worry, I have a way where you’ll never leave me ever again.” Sabrina spat out and her eyes began glowing white. Before Samara’s own powers or Shadows could even react she was engulfed in bright light and knew no more.

“Samara! Wake up. Come on come on come on. Please! Wake up!” There were voices shouting at her before she took a gasping breath and the fresh air flooded her lungs. She was freezing! Blinking her eyes open she saw drooping red columbine flowers beside her. Then her eyes refocused on the blurry figures behind them and saw the worried faces of her cousins.

“‘Mara! You’re okay but we have a problem. Come on, let’s get inside and warm you up.” Sabrina helped her twist out of the vines that surrounded her and get up. She looked around the garden in confusion. She didn’t remember taking a nap out there.

Her cousins were quick to wrap a blanket around her shivering frame and a cup of tea soon entered her hands, warming her. She took a sip as she assessed herself. She felt relatively fine other than being cold, and dirty apparently. She looked up into the anxious faces of her cousins.

“What happened?” Her voice was gravely and croaky. Samara coughed into her arm and looked at them. They both shifted uneasily.

“Well, in an effort to stop the impending Apocalypse, I convinced Ambrose to help me with the Mandrake conversion. And we were successful.” Samara’s stomach dropped, her cousin was now a mortal. Her Aunties were going to be furious. Heaven, she was furious!

“Sabrina-” Before she could finish, Sabrina rushed out words that took a moment to decipher.

“It worked too well and now the Mandrake has gone around trying to recreate everyone in my life into Mandrakes themselves. And she was successful with your Mandrake.” Sabrina hurried out and worried her lip between her teeth.

Samara felt her breath leave her. The Mandrake was successful? She closed her eyes and tried to pulse out her magick to find Phlox. Her eyebrows furrowed when she couldn’t. Her eyes snapped open wide and she looked at the edges of the room. Sorrow ripped through her chest as she took in the shadows that remained still and static. Where were her Shadows?! The companions she’d had since the beginning of time! What had saved her countless times!

“I’m mortal.” The words were whispered but seemed like a scream in the silent room. Sabrina collapsed to her knees beside her and gripped her arm.

“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I’ll fix this.”

“How can you? You’re mortal now too.” Samara mumbled, shooting a sharp look at her cousin. Sabrina bowed her head.

“We do have a plan to deal with the Mandrakes for now at least. We’re going to have an old-fashioned duel. Pistols and everything.” Ambrose tried to soothe. Samara stared down at her tea, her thumb rubbing up and down the handle. Her brain whirring as her heart continued to shatter in her chest. Unlike before, her soothing presence didn’t come to her. Instead she remained alone and desolate.

“With powers like we have….had, they need to be killed. So we’re cheating at the duel. Pulling early. I’m sorry to ask this of you but I can’t face them alone.” Sabrina explained, tears pooling in her eyes. Samara glanced at her out of the corner of her eye and gave a small nod. Ambrose and Sabrina sighed in relief. They began to explain more of the plan to her but she listened with half an ear, her eyes instead intent on the corners of the room that remained still but should’ve been swirling with her companions. Nothing would ever be the same.

The grove where Sabrina was born held an eerie feeling as the three cousins entered it. Or maybe it was just as normal as it had always been, just now Samara didn’t have the powers to protect from the bumps in the night.

Two figures stood at the stone in the middle of the clearing. They became clearer as the group of 3 approached. As they stopped at the stone, Samara found herself looking into a mirror. Rather, a mirror image. Piercing silver eyes and flowing black hair. Had she always been that tiny? She just reached Mandrake Sabrina’s nose. Samara watched as her Mandrake’s eyes shot through with lightning in a display of power. Envy and sorrow shot through her again. Those were hers!

“Sabrina, Samara. You came. Did you bring the weapons?” Mandrake Sabrina asked.

“Yes.” Samara answered, her eyes glowering at her own Mandrake.

“And there’s no other way this can play out?” Her Mandrake sighed, shaking her head.

“I wish there were. For all of our sakes.” The real Sabrina answered as everyone took a pistol from Ambrose.

“The rules are this. You’ll turn your backs to one another, count ten paces. On ten, turn, shoot. May the best trigger fingers win.” The girls all turned their backs on one another, pistols gripped in their hands. Samara closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then Ambrose began to count.

“One.” Step.

“Two.” Step.

“Three.” Step.

“Four.” Step.

“Five.” Step.

“Six.” Step.

“Seven.” Step.

“Eight.” Step.

“Nine.” BANG! BANG! The sound was deafening but Samara could still hear the gasp of pain and betrayal in her Mandrake’s voice. The shot Mandrakes both turned and looked towards the mortal girls.

“You shot early. That’s not fair.” The Mandrakes spoke as one before falling to the ground. Sabrina shook her head, tears in her eyes.

“No. No, it’s not.” She said and began running towards her Mandrake. Samara set down her pistol and kept her eyes on her gasping Mandrake. As she approached her Mandrake she could hear Sabrina soothing her own. Samara knelt down beside hers and looked into her eyes. She set both of her hands on the chest of the oozing Mandrake and leaned close to her face.

“You have something that doesn’t belong to you. Something that’s mine. And you’re gonna give it back to me.” Samara whispered, her words laced with cruelty before she bared her teeth. It felt strange, to be pushing and pulling for magick that was no longer contained in her. But she could feel it swarming within this Mandrake. It reacted to her touch, trying to get to what was familiar. She looked into the panic wide eyes of the Mandrake as she realized what she was doing. Samara’s lips curled with a wicked grin before she plunged her hands into the collapsing chest of the Mandrake, another choked gasp leaving its lips. She grasped the heart before it stopped beating, its warmth and goo filling her hand. She kept eye contact as her grip firmed and she slowly pulled the heart from her chest. She raised the still beating, orange, organ into the air, and set it before her lips. Her cruel smile parted to reveal sharp, pearly teeth that eagerly bit into the pulpy mess. The Mandrake gave a screaming groan as Samara ripped off the piece in her mouth, chewed and swallowed. As the piece moved down her throat to settle in her stomach, the Mandrake stilled, breath leaving her lips.

Samara dropped the pulp in her hand onto the body below her as she stood. As she reached her full height she sighed in content. She could see them! Her Shadows! She could feel as her magick flooded her veins, stretching out along her body like a weighted blanket. She flexed her hands and laughed in delight as her Shadows swirled up her body, encompassing her in darkness.

“Sabrina! Samara!” Nick shouted as he ran into the clearing, a woman following close behind. Samara turned to look at the others. Her cousin still sat on the ground, her Mandrake in her lap. Ambrose stood before them, formerly soothing her other cousin. Nick and the woman looked out of breath and disheveled. Although Samara knew she looked a sight. Her Mandrake lay at her feet, it’s heart ripped out of its chest and bitten, she was sure her eyes were glowing and her Shadows blurred parts of her.

“Nick. Ms. Wardwell. It’s over.” Sabrina answered in a tear-choked voice. The two looked at them in horror.

“Sabrina, that was the last step...to complete the prophecy.” Nick breathed out. Samara stared towards him as Sabrina turned.

“Killing yourself. It was the final perversion.” Ms. Wardwell chimed in as Sabrina’s face fell. Samara’s head tiled in interest, her new companions sending worried glances her way.

“What are you saying?” Tears still fell from Sabrina’s eyes but for a different reason than sorrow for her Mandrake.

The group besides Samara startled as lightning struck around them including the stone just behind them.

“The prophecy is being fulfilled. The End of Days is upon us. The Dark Lord will walk the Earth in His true form. The Gates of Hell will open. And Samara will sit by his side and rule as His Queen while Sabrina, their Sword, will enact their will.” Ms. Wardwell answered in a grave voice. Thunder and lightning continued to strike around them. One final strike highlighted the faces of the girls and the roles they’d play. Eyes glowing. Menace on Sabrina’s face. A crown towering on Samara’s head. Anticipation soaked the air.

#Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #caos #Lucifer Morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x oc #lucifer morningstar x ofc #dark lord #dark lord x reader #dark lord x oc #satan x oc #sabrina #satan x reader #satan x ofc #ambrose #spellman #hilda #zelda #is it currently 3:30am and I'm still writing? yes

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sinnhelmingr · 4 years

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aloe, belladonna, fern, sage for DS Hel // @royal-dragonslayer-ornstein

ALOE : how does your muse handle grief ?

Honestly? Very, very differently from how others seem to process it. Especially when younger, given her life being built around the tending of the dead and that in their dark rest they know peace. For a long while, Hel saw no reason for lamenting death, knowing what lay beyond, though she understood it hurt others to have their time with a loved one cut short. This actually bit her in the ass at one point in an ask with a Gwynevere in that she got chewed out for not showing due contrition over the loss of others.

It took forging many bonds in the world beyond that she began to understand grief -- especially, I think, at the loss of Artorias. His death was meaningless, and cruel, and wholly avoidable, and there was nothing to celebrate in his passing. Lost to the Dark, there was surely no peace for him. I think that cut her the most deeply at first, and the impact his death had on those he left behind. It was only later on, when alone to think on it of her own accord, that she registered she missed him, and she wished he had come back after all, and that was her first brush with personal grief.

Even so, it has been fleeting in her life. She’s more likely to echo it as per decorum than truly feel it. When Gwyn died, she was more upset for his children than the loss of the king. She grieved that the king never appreciated his youngest as she should have been appreciated, that he never made amends with his firstborn, that he pushed such responsibility onto his already struggling eldest daughter. She grieved his failings and their impact, not his death, a secret she keeps close to the chest knowing how further deified the godfather has become in the centuries since.

I think this silent sense of grief for lives unlived deepens once she takes on Nito’s dominion and is further separated from others. Others will die, in time, god and human, king and beggar, all passing into what is now her keeping -- but she never will. She will stand and watch all things fall, and in the dark of the grave all will be reunited. Her grief is exhausting then, to watch old friends enter her dominion without a word, to see children she once doted upon be broken and put out of their misery during the final sputters of the light. In its final form, her grief is unexpressed but it is powerful, and she presses on because someone must when the rest are gone.

That said, at it’s deepest, Hel is seen to express her grief violently. For a brief period in the story, she’s openly gunning for the Undead after they kill Nito, pulled back from claiming them permanently only by their own undying nature and the firm rebuke of the Dark Sun. In turn, the loss of her beloved, even though they had been separated for at least a few decades, is expressed in the fact she’s hunting members of the Church of the Deep for sport. Just a widow and her scythe, demanding blood black as ichor for divine blood as if it can ever measure up.

BELLADONNA : how does your muse respond to silence ? do they take comfort in soundlessness , or seek to fill the void with noise ?

It depends on the situation, honestly! Silence is sort of the resting state of her home, where ones duties as a servant of the Graves should be done peacefully and with care taken not to disturb the dead. This manifests in a lack of light and treating the deceased with a sort of hushed reverence so their rest will be as comfortable as possible. The Fenito keep their work sacrosanct, though there are certain regions within their Lord’s dominion where the dead do not reach where japery and more open fraternization is encouraged. Even so, some of her siblings prefer to keep their silences, and so Hel is always comfortable with it. Silence, when comfortable or sacred, feels like home to her, and so she cherishes it.

However, she’s well aware that is the way of the Graves, and that the world outside is not beholden to such practices. Sometimes silences can be downright eerie even to her, a mark of the Darkness, a reminder of how far the splendor of a city has fallen. It can be an omen of violence past or present, or a mystery best left unpursued. In those moments, she might retreat from perceived threat as quietly as possible, or fill the still air with song or some other distraction from empty halls and paths.

In the good old days, especially, she sought to fill silences, eager to ask questions and make merry and in some way belong to the world of Light and all its decadence. Laughter was her calling card then, and fast-moving feet as she fled from whatever innocent mischief she wrought in Gwyn’s hall. Yet she loved more than anything to make those around her join in her mirth, whether by word or deed, and so she coveted the sound of other voices, of approval in her actions.

FERN : does your muse believe in magic or cosmic forces , or are they more likely to think their life is ultimately a matter of their own control ?

Magic is real and her dearest companion is a master of the craft. There are energies across all levels of the world which lend themself to those dedicated to their pursuit, and Hel thinks that’s actually pretty neat. Except for when it, like, drives the Paledrake mad or causes women to go missing in the night or -- Okay, maybe magic is far more a neutral force in this world. Neutral in that it falls to the wielder to decide what to do with it, rather than magic defining the user as some assume.

Hel is a staunch believer in accountability and the power of personal decision. be it in magic or life. She has, in the flow of the age, seen a lot of people do terrible things and then blame it on tradition, on necessity, on doing wrong for the right reasons. Perhaps due to her morality having developed separately from most surface-dwellers, she is very against the end justifies the means. Honestly the only reason she didn’t pull back from the plot to keep the flame burning sooner was just because the Undead needed to be dealt with, and at least this way the curse served some purpose. Notably, the second others spoke of using a living child as kindling she balked and abandoned everything she loved and called home after the loss of her Lord.

You can justify your choices through the Flame, through Gwyn, through your Covenant, through your orders, but at the end, all are left with how far they chose to go in that pursuit, and in that they must reflect and, if finally able to assert themself as more than pawn, atone. You cannot blame any force or power for personal failing, no matter if it might help you sleep at night -- or so Hel sees it.

SAGE : what is your muse’s legacy ? what do they want to be remembered for & what might they actually be remembered for ?

There’s actually a little headcanon title I gave Hel that really sums it up in certain time periods. Lunar Shadow -- that is, the shadow cast by the moon as depicted by Gwyndolin. She is the shade and mystery that clings fast to Luna in a lonely sky, the reflection of her will and power. Hel is never her lover’s pawn the way others accuse her, as shown in that she’s willing to butt heads with Gwyndolin on certain facets of the plan and her place in it, but she is inextricably linked to her all the same. Many will remember her as ally and acolyte of the Holy City in its twilight, bound to its cause like marriage vows.

In the golden age, however, she was the Mourning Princess, grey-clad and dust-soaked, a death that was both fair and welcoming. Others cossetted the strange creature, looked to her for amusement she, as already outlined, was all too willing to provide. Many godkin who fled will remember her for that, her good nature and sharp tongue, and a generous nature that adored even the most wretched creature that slithered across her host’s hall. The ending that most write is that she’s still in that city today, entangled in the arms and scaled limbs of that which she loved most dearly -- and for a time, they are not wrong.

Time shifts, however. In a far flung future, her Lord has been forgotten by all but her siblings, and she has risen to take Nito’s place. She’s revered as a goddess of death, Death-Who-Walks among the inhabitants of some far-flung land, black-clad and with a voice like song, ever-watchful. But Gods rise anew, in a land of snow and moonlight, and she is Queen, she is Beloved, she is the future of a people she never quite belonged to, the silk to glove her patron’s iron will. Her statues stand in the courtyards and palace, commissioned by one who loves her and wanted to depict what she saw as beauty. These stand even after that love has faded into opposition. And after her lover is gone, she is Avenger, Warrior, the Bane of heretics.

What I’m getting at here is that Hel’s legacy is different things to different people, from a stately queen of the dead to a curiosity in the eyes of gods. She’s the widow and divorcee depending on whose record you follow in her love life, and she’s both the hunter of heretics who spites the Church of the Deep and the vocal defender of a certain Prince’s choice to damn the Flame. She can’t really be neatly divided into simple lore because so much of what she is seems contradictory. That’s perfectly valid, too, as many that will be reduced to simple legacies were so much more than a condensed story as well.

All Hel wants, really, after she leaves the Land of Lord’s behind once there is no one left to tether here there, is to be remembered as someone who tried for others. Someone who fought for more than the legacy of a fool and the flame he coveted, someone who was able to see the bigger picture and hopefully leave an impact through her words and actions. But then, after all her life was over the extended age, I think the most she hopes for is to be forgotten and allowed to slip safely out of the narrative to make her own somewhere in the growing Dark.

#royaldragonslayerornstein #they can't get into my head [HEADCANON]#i can no longer close my eyes while the world around me dies [V: DARK SOULS]#I TOOK MY TIME WITH THESE I AM... CONTENT.

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 4 years

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LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

January 8, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

More information continues to emerge about the events of Wednesday. They point to a broader conspiracy than it first appeared. Calls for Trump’s removal from office are growing. The Republican Party is tearing apart. Power in the nation is shifting almost by the minute.

[Please note that information from the January 6 riot is changing almost hourly, and it is virtually certain that something I have written will be incorrect. I have tried to stay exactly on what we know to be facts, but those could change.]

More footage from inside the attack on the Capitol is coming out and it is horrific. Blood on statues and feces spread through the building are vile; mob attacks on police officers are bone-chilling.

Reuters photographer Jim Bourg, who was inside the building, told reporters he overheard three rioters in “Make America Great Again” caps plotting to find Vice President Mike Pence and hang him as a “traitor”; other insurrectionists were shouting the same. Pictures have emerged of one of the rioters in military gear carrying flex cuffs—handcuffs made of zip ties—suggesting he was planning to take prisoners. Two lawmakers have suggested the rioters knew how to find obscure offices.

New scrutiny of Trump’s “Stop the Steal” rally before the attack shows Trump’s lawyer Rudy Giuliani, Representative Mo Brooks (R-AL), Don Jr., and Trump himself urging the crowd to go to the Capitol and fight. Trump warned that Pence was not doing what he needed to. Trump promised to lead them to the Capitol himself.

There are also questions about law enforcement. While exactly what happened remains unclear, it has emerged that the Pentagon limited the Washington D.C. National Guard to managing traffic. D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser requested support before Trump’s rally, but the Department of Defense said that the National Guard could not have ammunition or riot gear, interact with protesters except in self-defense, or otherwise function in a protective capacity without the explicit permission of acting Secretary Christopher Miller, whom Trump put into office shortly after the election after firing Defense Secretary Mark Esper.

When Capitol Police requested aid early Wednesday afternoon, the request was denied. Defense officials held back the National Guard for about three hours before sending it to support the Capitol Police. Maryland Governor Larry Hogan, a Republican, tried repeatedly to send his state’s National Guard, but the Pentagon would not authorize it. Virginia’s National Guard was mobilized when House Speaker Nancy Pelosi called the governor, Ralph Northam, herself.

Defense officials said they were sensitive to the criticism they received in June when federal troops cleared Lafayette Square of peaceful protesters so Trump could walk across it. But it sounds like there might be a personal angle: Bowser was harshly critical of Trump then, and it would be like him to take revenge on her by denying help when it was imperative.

Refusing to stop the attack on the Capitol might have been more nefarious, though. A White House adviser told New York Magazine’s Washington correspondent Olivia Nuzzi that Trump was watching television coverage of the siege and was enthusiastic, although he didn’t like that the rioters looked “low class.” While the insurrectionists were in the Capitol, he tweeted: “Mike Pence didn’t have the courage to do what should have been done to protect our Country and our Constitution, giving States a chance to certify a corrected set of facts, not the fraudulent or inaccurate ones which they were asked to previously certify. USA demands the truth!” Even as lawmakers were under siege, both Trump and his lawyer Rudy Giuliani were making phone calls to brand-new Senator Tommy Tuberville (R-AL) urging him to slow down the electoral count.

After Trump on Wednesday night tweeted that there would be an “orderly” transition of power, on Thursday he began again to urge on his supporters.

With the details and the potential depth of this event becoming clearer over the past two days—Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas’s wife, Virginia, tweeted her support, and state lawmakers as well as Republican attorneys general were actually involved—Americans are recoiling from how bad this attempted coup was… and how much worse it could have been. The crazed rioters were terrifyingly close to our elected representatives, all gathered together on that special day, and they were actively talking about harming the vice president.

By Friday night, 57% of Americans told Reuters they wanted Trump removed from office immediately. Nearly 70% of Americans disapprove of Trump’s actions before the riot. Only 12% of Americans approved of the rioters; 79% of Americans described the rioters as “criminals” or “fools.” Five percent called them “patriots.”

Pelosi tonight said that she hoped the president would resign, but if not, the House of Representatives will move forward with impeachment on Monday, as well as with legislation to enable Congress to remove Trump under the 25th Amendment. The most recent draft of the impeachment resolution has just one article: “incitement of insurrection.” As a privileged resolution, it can go directly to the House without committee approval.

In the Senate, Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) has no interest in further splitting the Republicans over another impeachment, or forcing them onto the record as either for or against it. Timing is on his side: the Senate is not in session for substantive business until January 19, so cannot act on an impeachment resolution without the approval of all senators. It can take up the resolution then, but more likely it will wait until Biden is sworn in, at which point the measure would be managed not by McConnell, but by the new House majority leader, Chuck Schumer (D-NY). A trial can indeed take place after Trump is no longer president, enabling Congress to make sure he can never again hold office.

Whether or not the Senate would convict is unclear, but it’s not impossible. Senator Lisa Murkowski (R-AK), for one, is so furious she is talking of switching parties. “I want him out,” she says. Still, Trump supporters are now insisting that it would “further divide the country” to try to remove Trump now, and that we need to unify. Senator Ted Cruz (R-TX), who led the Senate effort to challenge Biden’s election, today tweeted that Biden was not working hard enough to “bring us together or promote healing” and that “vicious partisan rhetoric only tears our country apart.”

Trump, meanwhile, has continued to agitate his followers, and today began to call for more resistance, while users on Parler, the new right-wing social media hangout, are talking of another, bigger attack on Washington.

Tonight, Twitter banned Trump, stating: “we have permanently suspended the account due to the risk of further incitement of violence.” As evidence, it cited both his claim that his supporters would “have a GIANT VOICE long into the future,” and his tweet that he would not be going to Biden’s inauguration on January 20. Twitter says that Trump’s followers see these two new tweets as proof that the election was invalid and that the Inauguration is a good target, since he won’t be there. The Twitter moderators say that “plans for future armed protests have already begun proliferating on and off-Twitter, including a proposed secondary attack on the US Capitol and state capitol buildings on January 17, 2021.”

Twitter also took down popular QAnon accounts, including those of Trump’s former National Security Adviser Michael Flynn and his former lawyer Sidney Powell, who is having quite a bad day: the company that makes election machines, Dominion Voting Systems, announced it is suing her for defamation and asking $1.3 billion in damages. After taking down 7,000 QAnon accounts in July, Twitter continued by today taking down the account of the man who hosts the posts from “Q.”

While Twitter officials might well be horrified by the insurrection, the ban is also a sign of a changing government. With the election of two Democratic senators from Georgia this week, the majority goes to the Democrats, and McConnell will no longer be Majority Leader, killing bills. Social media giants know regulation of some sort is around the corner, and they are trying to look compliant fast. When Twitter banned Trump, so did Reddit, and Facebook and Instagram already had. Google Play Store removed Parler, warning it to clean up its content moderation.

Trump evidently couldn’t stand the Twitter ban, and tried at least five different accounts to get back onto the platform. He and his supporters are howling that he is being silenced by big tech, but of course he has an entire press corps he could use whenever he wished. Losing his access to Twitter simply cuts off his ability to drum up both support and money by lying to his supporters. Another platform that has dumped Trump is one of those that handled his emails. The San Francisco correspondent of the Financial Times, Dave Lee, noted that for more than 48 hours there had been no Trump emails: in the previous six days the president sent out 33.

This has been a horrific week. If it has a silver lining, it is that the lines are now clear between our democracy and its enemies. The election in Georgia, which swung the Senate away from the Republicans and opens up some avenues to slow down misinformation, is a momentous victory.

—-

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#quote #quotes #election 2020 #Heather Cox Richardson #Letters From An American #political #insurrection

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