#I swear watching them has inspired me and has helped improve my art in some way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neutron-stars-collision · 4 years

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 9 - ‘The Kindest of Kisses Break the Hardest of Hearts”

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 , Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8 (swear I’ll make a masterlist soon)

Summary: Back in London, you find unexpected help in the form of Ives. But when Neil comes back sparks fly... ✨

Warnings: Swearing.

Author’s Notes: So here’s the chapter I’m incredibly excited about... Suppose I should thank Dior for inspiration in this one. Hope you enjoy this as much as I loved writing the last scene! Please let me know what you think!

You did not remember the last time you were this happy to be back in London. After the mission in Paris was done, Jasper went back to Boston, and you were free to do what you wanted. You contacted TP, told him how the mission went (without certain details), and in return, got told to wait for more information regarding the next steps. By your estimation, it was less than two weeks left till Kiev and the day when the mysterious plan will be set into motion. You were scared.

Ever since that day in Paris when Neil called, you had a difficult time maintaining normal conversation with him. He would message asking about something as mundane as how your day went, and you would only respond with a short sentence. You could not really explain it if asked. It was as though after hearing his voice and letting yourself have that conversation with him, all the doubts came back with a tripled strength. Suddenly you could almost believe Jasper and his harsh words suggesting that you were not important in Neil’s eyes. Maybe he just liked flirting, and you were conveniently there? That sounded rather plausible. Ever since you started naming those thoughts, an ache in your chest was hard to ignore. And so you did the best you could, which in this case meant low-key ghosting Neil and losing yourself in training and work.

Surely with enough time and space, you would get over it (him), right?

That was the state of your mind the day when rather surprising help appeared. You have been back in London for a few days and have not really interacted with anyone. Usually, you would spend two hours in the shooting range and then in a sparring session. After you were done, you would retreat to your room and try to ignore the texts that were still occasionally coming.

“How’s London treating you? Say hello to Anna from me” you glanced at the screen and frowned.

The instant temptation to text back was still there. Only now, it was tainted with much more anxiety and uncertainty.

“It’s alright, rather quiet. I haven’t seen her around though. Maybe she’s moping after you”

Like I am? You sighed and chose to focus on notes from the physics class. You were saved from the study by an unexpected knock on the door. Without thinking, you got up and opened it, only to see Ives standing there with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Hi” you muttered, worried you have forgotten how to behave like a human being.

“Hello, love” he grinned “Hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“No, I was actually rather bored” you admitted with a sheepish smile.

You heard the distinct buzz of a text message but chose to ignore it. You were slowly getting better at the game.

“That’s terrific because I thought we could have a coffee in the canteen and chat” Ives’ thick cockney accent was somewhat adorable.

And you could definitely do with a distraction.

“I’d love that” you beamed back at him and left the room, locking the door behind you.

As you walked side by side along the corridor, you struggled to say something.

“How did you know I’m here?” finally you settled for a rather easy question.

“I’ve seen you at the shooting range in the morning” he watched you closely for a short moment “You’re fucking amazing, did you know that?”

“Oh no, I’m really not” you felt your face heat up.

“Yeah you are” he playfully nudged you in the side “You could probably teach me a thing or two”.

You glared at him and then quickly considered your options.

“Only if you taught me how not to be knocked out within the first two minutes of the hand in hand combat” you knew you could use help in that department.

“Deal?” Ives stopped and turned to you with an outstretched hand.

“Deal” you shook it with a grin.

Once you made it to the mess hall, you noticed with relief that it was rather quiet. You both made coffee and sat down at the table in the corner. After a few moments of comfortable silence when you sipped your drinks, Ives spoke up:

“What have you been up to?” he was eyeing you curiously.

Even though you barely knew him, you felt at ease. There was no enigma of TP to him or Neil’s intensity. Instead, he was just a friendly bloke with sharp wits.

“Oh you know, shit mission in New York and now even shittier one in Paris” you frowned at the fresh memories “Though I suppose the recent one at least ended with success” you mused.

It was true not all of your missions have ended with a huge fuck up. And that was somewhat encouraging.

“With Jasper?”

“Yeah” your frown deepened, and Ives grinned.

“My condolences. He’s a right pain in the ass”

“Well said” you laughed, finally feeling some of the tension of the last few days dissolve.

But it was not meant to be for long. Before either of you spoke again, you heard your phone buzz. You took it out of the pocket and glanced at the received text. It was him, of course. You grimaced and placed the phone screen down on the table as if to avoid the temptation. All the while you felt Ives’s attentive gaze. He has not missed a thing.

“Neil?” he asked, watching you closely with a neutral face.

“Yeah…” you shrugged, avoiding his stare “I’ll probably sound pathetic… but do you know where he is?”

Once the question was out of your mouth, you felt your cheeks heat up. It was one thing to worry about him daily. Another to actually voice the worries. But Ives did not seem to mind. He quickly considered something before leaning over the table.

“He’s in India, dealing with some sudden disruption. I was there with him in the beginning” at your unspoken question, he added “He’s fine, often said that’s partially thanks to you” he eyed you carefully, and you looked down at the table, flustered.

“It’s more that if I wasn’t there, he wouldn’t even need help in the first place” you mumbled, feeling the guilt gnaw at your heart.

Still, sometimes you kept wondering why on earth had he decided to shield you back in the bar. But any possible answer to the question meant having to assume something about Neil’s intentions. And that was dangerous territory.

“Should I ask?” Ives’ question brought you back to the present moment.

“Better not” you smiled wryly, and he just nodded.

“He wouldn’t shut up about you sometimes, you know” he spoke up again after a short silence, making you look up.

You were not sure you liked the cheeky smirk that appeared on Ives’ face. You were not going to give in.

“He’ll get over it in no time, I’m sure” you feigned nonchalance as you finished your coffee and met his gaze.

“Are you two good?”

You just shrugged. To be frank, you had no clue how to answer that. Was there even such an entity as ‘you two’ when it came to you and Neil?

“Well, whatever is going on, know that I’m ready to slap some sense into him if needed” Ives grinned at you, and you beamed back.

“Appreciated”

The next few minutes passed in companionable silence. That is until your brain rudely decided to suggest another pressing question.

“Is he there… alone?” you cringed as soon as you said it aloud.

No point in trying to sound disinterested…

“Nah, Wheeler stayed with a couple of others” his stare was way too knowing.

You felt a sharp stab of pain in your heart. What even… There was no reason to be jealous. Right? As you were internally debating what the new feelings were supposed to mean, you failed to notice Ives’ grinning at your distress.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous” he was enjoying it way too much.

“What? No, I’m not” you tried to scoff at this insinuation but failed miserably.

“Yeah, you are” that’s how you learnt that Ives had his own version of a shit-eating grin.

Was that a part of the Tenet work application?

“Mate, Neil and Wheeler wouldn’t fuck each other even if I paid them. But I’ve seen the way he looks at you” Ives wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and you groaned.

You glared at him, unable to come up with any good response.

“What? I may have only seen you two together once, but it was clear to me that dear Neil is interested. Very much so” he smirked at your wide-eyed stare “But I don’t think that’s in any way news for you” he squinted his eyes as though trying to see right through your soul.

“Please, let’s leave psychoanalysis for another date” you grabbed the phone from the table and looked at him pleadingly.

“Of course” he grinned “When shall we have our first sparring lesson?”

“Tomorrow morning. Be there at 9” you got up “Thanks for the chat”

“Anytime, love” he waved as you left the canteen.

*** Combat lessons with Ives have proven to be a gift from the gods in the days that followed. He would accompany you to the shooting range afterward as well under the pretence of wanting to learn from you. Even though you were sure it was utter bullshit as he could hit the marks as well as you, if not better, you appreciated the sentiment. To say that his help in the sparring sessions meant you have greatly improved would be an overstatement, but certainly, additional tips slowly started to make a difference. All that distraction meant you also spent much less time wondering about Neil’s whereabouts and asking yourself existential questions about your own feelings. That was probably the best outcome of the situation.

Another morning of the sparring session began with you and Ives meeting in the gym as usual.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked as you entered the gym.

“More or less” you grinned, stifling a yawn.

Last night you spent way too much time overthinking the text exchange with Neil. All it took was for him to mention ‘the fun you had in New York’ and then compare it to the recent night undercover. To you, it meant that Jasper was right, and you were just another ‘flirting companion’. And that shit hurt.

“That will have to do then” he tossed a water bottle in your direction, and you caught it easily.

You set it down on the side and the mat and stood facing Ives. After a short warm-up, he began showing you the way of blocking punches aimed at your upper body. While the demonstration always looked easy, once you went onto the practice, you have begun to struggle. After getting a third light punch to the shoulder, you huffed:

“Maybe I should just give up and become a sniper” you rubbed the aching spot.

“That could work” he grinned “Though I’m not sure how Neil would feel about that career change”

“Fuck Neil” you made sure to put up your guard, expecting another punch.

“I see how it is” Ives smirked before he threw a hit towards your other shoulder.

This one you blocked. And the one afterward as well. Slowly, with only a few mistakes, you got the hang of the game. That is until you were interrupted by someone clearing their throat by the door. You both turned to see Anna standing there.

“Y/N, can I speak to you for a moment?” she sent you a fake smile.

Christ…

“Of course”

You looked at Ives with panic in your eyes before you followed her into the corridor. Anna was clearly uncomfortable with having to talk to you, and that did not ease the tension.

“What’s the matter?” you spoke up first, hating the awkwardness of the moment.

“Neil called me yesterday” she paused, and you frowned.

“Yeah?” if she wanted to torture you, she has succeeded.

“He wanted me to let you know that they got Steiner in New York” despite Anna’s best attempts at keeping her face neutral, you knew she was enjoying this.

“Okay, thanks” you smiled weakly, trying to ignore the jealousy building up in your chest.

“Oh, and he says he should be back next week” now she was smiling dazzlingly.

“Great” you mumbled and showed her your brightest grin “Thank you”

With that, you chose to end the tortures for you both and went back into the gym. At Ives’ questioning stare, you just glared. He understood instantly.

“Fuck Neil?” he offered you a sip from the water bottle, which you gladly accepted.

“Mhmm”

There was so much to unpack from what Anna told you. Partially, you knew your ghosting was to be blamed for the situation but still, it hurt. Especially the unspoken fact that Neil has called her. You knew you were being ridiculous but could not ignore the feelings that were attacking every fibre of your being.

“Ready for another round?” Ives looked at you worriedly.

“Absolutely”

*** A few days later, as you left a meeting covering suspicious activity around London, your head was most certainly elsewhere. Ever since the awkward situation with Anna, you were not sure what to do with yourself. Only carefree moments were those you spent in the shooting range or learning hand to hand combat with Ives, who was surprisingly great at distracting you.

Walking along the corridor, you were too busy worrying about all those texts you have ignored to see where you were going. With eyes trained on the floor, you barely registered the surroundings. And that is why you were incredibly surprised when you unexpectedly collided with something solid standing on your path.

“Fuck” you muttered before slowly realising that you have, in fact, walked into a person.

You felt someone’s hands reach out to steady you by wrapping around your waist. The next thing you registered was the smell. A very familiar one that you have tried to repress from memory for the past few weeks. You felt panic surge through your whole body before you let out a long exhale and lifted your head.

“Didn’t expect our reunion to be that dramatic, but I’m not complaining” Neil grinned at you with that smug look on his face you have grown to hate.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you” you choose to stare at his tie.

A nice burgundy one which he has worn in New York, during the mission. At the memory, your cheeks grew somehow warmer, and you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping to be swallowed by the earth. But to no avail.

“Are you alright?” his voice broke through the increasing paralysis.

“Yeah” you forced yourself to look up at him again.

The concern in his eyes only made your desire to run stronger. But his grip on your waist was unyielding. You were acutely aware of standing in the middle of the corridor. Anyone could pass by and see you like that. But it looked like Neil did not care.

“I tried calling you last night” his voice was tense.

Shit.

“Sorry I was busy” you were a terrible liar.

And, of course, he saw right through you. You noticed how the look in his eyes went from concern to serious worry, and you desperately wanted to flee the scene. He was studying your face, and you tried to look anywhere but at him. After a beat, he must have found some answers in your conflicted expression because he relaxed the grip on your waist, giving you a way out.

“If I said anything wrong…” you were thrown off by the slightly wounded look in his eyes.

Now that you actually could run away, you did not want to. Not without making sure he understood.

“You haven’t” you took a deep breath, trying to calm the racing heart “It’s… just things that Jasper said and stuff… it made me think” you mentally groaned, annoyed at how you could not form a coherent sentence.

But Neil understood as he nodded and reached for your hand. You let him lead you to a quieter spot in the adjacent corridor. You were still paralyzed with conflicting feelings, but now also curious. The voice in the back of your head kept on reminding you how much you have missed him. You had your back pressed against the wall and stared as he slowly stepped closer, making your personal space non-existent. It was suddenly hard to think about the reasons why you should not let him be this close. The look in his eyes was unreadable to you.

“I don’t know what that idiot told you or what’s going on in your head, but it’s all wrong” you felt his free hand slide up your arm to rest on your neck and gently caress the skin there.

It was embarrassing how you responded to his touch with your body tensing and goosebumps appearing where his fingers made contact with your skin. It was hard to lie, even to yourself.

“Why should I believe you?” your voice sounded breathless already.

You knew you should have never let him get this close before you talked. But still, the way he looked at you was surprising. Any train of thought was interrupted when he brushed the pad of his thumb over your lower lip. His eyes were darker than usual, and the intensity of his gaze alone made the flutters in your stomach appear.

“I’ve got a few reasons”

Gently he tilted your chin and covered your lips with his. You gasped at the contact and felt him smile against your mouth. Then, as though a switch was flipped, Neil started kissing you hungrily, and you responded in kind, letting your teeth graze his lower lip. When his hand wrapped around your neck, you felt lightheaded and breathless. But still, you deepened the kiss, making all the feelings you have tried to stifle lead the moment. It was scaringly easy to do. Only once you felt like you had no breath left, you broke the kiss and stared back at Neil with a dazed expression. That was not what you expected from your reunion.

“Hope that beat whatever Jasper had to offer you” he grinned, and you enjoyed the sight of his subtly swollen lips.

“Please don’t remind me” surprisingly, you could still form a sentence.

But that ability was soon to be gone as you watched mischievous sparks shine in his eyes. His lips curled into a smirk, and you knew you were fucked. In every meaning of the word. Before you could react, he leaned in closer again, kissed the corner of your mouth before leaving a trail of kisses down to your jawline, and then crook of the neck.

“Neil…” you breathed out, trying to somehow stop the situation from getting out of your hands.

“Yes?” he interlocked his fingers with yours, pinning your joined hands to the wall.

Perfect leverage. Thinking was getting increasingly difficult.

“I… I’ve missed you” that was not exactly what you wanted to say.

You heard him chuckle with his lips brushing the skin on your neck.

“Quite right” he kissed the spot beneath your ear “Too”.

You sighed at the sensation, tightening the grip on his hand and letting your other palm splay on his chest. Through the fabric of his shirt, you could feel the fast heartbeat. It was somewhat encouraging to know that it was not just your heart that was beating wildly. He was kissing your neck with something akin to reverence, which made you feel faint. The traces of reason left in your brain started screaming for attention.

“Neil” you huffed, annoyed at how you were unable to voice the mess of thoughts.

Slowly he lifted his head and looked back at you.

“I really like how you say my name” the roguish grin that began it all was back to haunt you “So breathless” his voice was huskier than usual.

He wanted to kill you, evidently.

You met his gaze helplessly, feeling vulnerable with how he could see right through you. He looked almost fascinated by your stunned expression. Then his eyes softened.

“I missed you too” you felt his hand travel down your body to settle on the hip “So much”.

That admission was all it took for you to lose it. Again. You leaned in and initiated another kiss, unable to deny the need you felt. Neil was ready as he easily matched the tempo you have set. This time neither of you wanted to rush it. Instead, you kissed slowly and delicately, enjoying the careless moment. You tangled your hand in his blonde strands, tugging lightly to bring him even closer. He groaned at the sensation, making you feel a new kind of tension. You wanted him to make that sound again. But before you could find ways of achieving that, on the periphery of your attention, you heard the distinctive sound of footsteps approaching fast. Then they stopped abruptly and were replaced with a shocked gasp.

You opened your eyes and found yourself staring straight at Anna. Fuck. She was frozen in the spot three meters away and had a bewildered expression on her face. You knew there was no way in hell she has not realised what was going on. You could only watch as her face scrunched up in a scowl before she turned on her heels and almost ran back down the corridor. That image was enough to help you wake up from the daze. Gently you disentangled from Neil, who looked confused. Despite the reality of the situation downing on you, you grinned seeing his ruffled hair and disoriented gaze.

“Well done, now Anna hates me” you warily eyed the corridor before settling your eyes on him again.

You watched as he slowly absorbed the information, frowned, and then brightened up again when he met your gaze.

“Pretty sure she did already” he eyed you carefully as though assessing the state he brought you to.

Conscious of how you looked, you smoothed your hair and patted your blazed cheeks. There was no pretending that nothing happened, even if you wanted to.

“Why?” you arched your eyebrow at the implication.

“You know why” he just smiled as though it explained everything.

You didn’t know why. At all. You watched as he ruffled his hair even further by combing a hand through it, and your eyes settled on the exposed forearm and rolled up sleeves. For some reason seeing him like that was very thought-provoking. You knew he caught your stare when you heard him chuckle.

“Like what you see?” it was that smug smirk again.

You could not help but roll your eyes at him. This time the voice of reason was not so easily ignored.

“We really should talk before…” you did not even want to finish the sentence.

“Before?” Neil took a step closer again.

“Before we do something much more reckless than… this” you gestured vaguely and took a step back.

“Would that really be so bad?” he bit his lip and eyed you curiously again.

You have had enough. Placing a hand on his chest, you pushed him back. That clearly surprised him.

“Let’s just talk. Please” you put on your best puppy eyes just for him.

That did the job. Thankfully.

“Couldn’t say no to that” he grinned and took your hand in his “C’mon”

Now you just had to figure out what to tell him. The only issue was that you had no idea about how you felt… Fun.

#tenet #neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion

163 notes · View notes

plasticflowering · 4 years

Text

ONEUS Fancall Writeup

In summary: aldjalskdjdkfjkdj I should have thought of more to say, but it was enough just to meet them and they were so kind and amazing, 10/10 group, will stan forever as long as they behave themselves, which I trust they will.

(sorry for potato quality on the gifs. That’s the unfortunate reality of Wi-Fi video calls. I tried my best to at least color them a bit)

FIRST OF ALL, MMT get your queue in order. I got the message that said “your call’s coming up very soon, be on standby” and literally ONE SECOND LATER Skype was ringing, ahhhhhhhhh

The thing with fancalls is that it’s always disorienting to see the member order. Like you can’t prepare for that. You never know which person is next until the phone is passed.

Also, I got too caught up in past fansigns with asking questions so I just focused on what I wanted to tell each member here, and... well, that was a mistake. I should have indeed prepared some questions. I just feel like everything’s been asked at this point, you know?? More on that later. Anyway I felt like the time limits per member in this call stretched on for AGES, and I was not prepared to fill the space well aaaskdjhaskjdhsa I’m sorry everyone.

🐥LEEDO

First up was Leedo, and tbqh the boy looked checked out, but he was still so wonderful. They’re probably so tired and working so hard, so I felt a little bad. And, honestly, Leedo was the one I had the least to say to because idk I love him but I have kind of a silent respect for him. I’d let Leedo do his own thing and just nod at him in acknowledgement if we ever met irl

I told him that he’d looked really happy lately, and that I hoped he was taking care of himself and doing well. I also told him I hoped he was eating his vegetables (shoutout to @highponyleedo - admittedly I panicked 😂).

🐥: I’ll think about that.

I told him that he’s inspiring and that I think about him when I work out (which is true! Gotta get buff like Leedo!) It was a nice little convo, and I was still VERY nervous at this point having been thrust DIRECTLY into the call. In every fansign I’ve been in (four at this point), the first member is always unfortunately sort of a throwaway for my mind because I’m still scrambling 😖

He was beautiful and gracious nonetheless.

🐱RAVN

He has never done anything wrong, ever in his life.

OKAY SO

YOUNGJO TRIED TO DO OUR WHOLE CONVO IN ENGLISH???

I WAS SO IMPRESSED

HE’S SO WONDERFUL

🐱: Your hair is green?

��🏻: Yes!

🐱: Like my hair for Easily song

lksdjsalkjdaksdj ❤️

I also gave him a cheesy personal message of encouragement, and in the process I mentioned that I’m so much older than him (I AM) but I find him to be kind of a role model (I DO), and that I hope he gets to be his true self and make art that makes him happy.

🐱, aka this bitch: Age is not important.

✌🏻, knowing he has a noona problem: For some things, yes, you’re right!

I also showed him a fanart I drew of him, and immediately he was like “Oh, Procreate?” Yeah, boooiiii. Also he said my art was good but I’m sure he wouldn’t have said anything negative to a fan so... I just wanted him to see it lmao.

Youngjo spent almost the entire call like this, so there aren’t many great gif opportunities, but I’m glad he got to practice his English with me! How special!

As the phone was passed to the next member, Youngjo calls out: “You are very young!”

I love he. I’d fight him in a Denny’s parking lot, but I love he. For what purpose, that smile??

🐶XION

My son.

***Hey. Self. Note for the future: next time prepare a little more to say to your Ult.***

Okay, like, Xion looked RADIANT what the hell. See proof below

I gave him a very cheesy personal message about how I’ve watched him grow and improve and it makes me so happy, he makes me so happy with his music and his kindness. Also I mentioned that his makeup skills are always on point and look so, so good.

🐶, like immediately, proudly: Oh, thank you!!

I’ve lived a long and good life. But now I have expired. I have deceased. My ult smiled at me like this, and I have ascended to the next plane of existence.

However I’m coming back from the dead to finish this writeup and also to keep shitposting.

Anyway I would and did die for him.

BONUS: his reaction when I was like “I swear I thought I had more written out, I was like ‘oh I have so much to say to Xion’ and now here I am just staring at you.”

🐯HWANWOONG

Best! 👏🏻Boy! 👏🏻

(they’re all best boy, but Hwanwoong was just so on. He’s really just so welcoming and kind, ahhhhh)

I told him I’ve really been enjoying the 1theK choreography videos, then I mentioned the Cardi B choreo specifically and did a chef’s kiss motion, and this was his reaction (along with “thank you for watching that!”:

Then I asked him if there was a song he really wanted make some choreography for, but he hadn’t had the chance yet.

He thought, and then he swerved me by saying it was a SECRET and I’d have to stay tuned. 👀👀👀👀 You know I will, ya tricky lil’ bean.

Also hey who gave him the right??? To be so cute?? Like, stop. (don’t stop.)

🐰KEONHEE

So there’s this thing I’ve noticed with fansigns, where there’s always one member who just knocks the fansign experience out of the park so thoroughly that they steal a piece of my heart I never expected to give. For this fansign, that was Keonhee.

At this point I was also realizing I didn’t have much prepared to say, and I was just kind of riffing. But I did want to tell him that we had two things in common: we both studied ballet, and we both sang opera. I thanked him for the recent VLive where that was A Whole Thing, and then:

🐰, in English no less: Can you show me?

I don’t know what I expected. But I did show him. I sang a couple of operatic scales for him because I was like “what the hell, why not? Lee Keonhee’s gonna hear me sing opera. This is what my training was for.”

So that happened even though I was definitely nervous and forgot to open my throat up as much as I should have. It’s been a while, okay?

He also pointed out the LED moon lamp I keep on my side desk, which I’d forgotten to turn on before the call. So luckily Lee Keonhee was there to remind, at 5/6 of the way through my call!

🐿SEOHO

Firstly, I was taken in by the cool retro style jacket, so I mentioned that.

What’s with this little dance he did when I was gearing up to tell him what I wanted to say? Anyway he’s cute.

Then, I told him that Dizzy is one of my favorite ONEUS songs, and that he should definitely try to do more songwriting in the future if he wants.

He agreed. 😂

Then, he sang a little bit of Dizzy for me, but the sound was really not doing me any favors at this point in the call so it came through a little choppy ahhh.

So there you have it! All in all an amazing experience, would definitely do it again but would definitely prepare more to say/do/ask! I just don’t want to go in like an interviewer, but I also don’t know what else to do when there’s The Language Barrier, even with an interpreter. I’m definitely not in this for the boyfriend wish fulfillment or aegyo (Xion can’t help it), but since there is SO MUCH I could conceivably ask about, I’ve got fodder for future fansigns.

I hope you enjoyed!!!

#fancall writeup #v.text #v.gifsets #i guess this counts for my gifset tag #even with the potato quality these are LIMITED EDITION #ahhhhh i'm so happy

25 notes · View notes

yuraimi-lee-bunny · 5 years

Text

Let's get to the point first and then I'll give the important details:

Because of rude and intolerant comments of directly and indirectly way from LiS fandom here in Tumblr (only intolerant and abusive fans of Pricefield and Chloe) I fell into depression for a year and a half

I met the game on February 6, 2015. I immediately loved the game. I could only watch Gameplays. At the same time I was about to finish my Visual Arts career. I was specializing in Illustration and creation, development and character analysis (theory and practice)

At the beginning (between Ep.1 and Ep.3) Pricefield was causing me some pleasure but I also liked Warren, although I defended Warren from the unjustified hate that dome gave him, but I never saw the Grahamfield as an option. But days before Ep.4 some personal things happened to me, and I began to see the Grahamfield with an option, I started to like it more. Ep.4 arrives and besides being my favorite episode, I was happy and surprised that the Grahamfield was a possible option.

Finish the game and although I don't like at all the choice "Sacrifice Arcadia Bay" I had no problem, in the end: everyone their choices. I started showing my Grahamfield works. Sometimes comments came directly and indirectly offending my work. No problem, I could deal with it. But in 2016 began the problem: The attacks on Grahamfield, Warren and those who liked it increased even worse: they attacked those who chose to Sacrifice Chloe. The offenses were of a lot of variety but here are some of the ones I remember:

"You have no heart" "You're a monster", "You're a horrible person" "Surely you're homophobic" "You're a lesphobic" "You didn't understand the game" "You didn't understand Max" "That disgusts your tastes" "If you like such a ship, then fuck you"

In early 2016 I was dealing with many personal, family, professional problems, go to see things about LiS and other things that I liked helped me to reassure me. But that intolerant posts in LiS tags were so massive and consecutive that ended up making me believe them and thus, fall into depression.

I was weak? Maybe. But I hope you understand that everywhere I was going through difficult times, that when I went to see things about LiS it was my way of being able to entertain myself and I hope you also understand, that these people were not entitled to attack people. In 2015 I could deal with it but that 2016 I couldn't because of my own affairs and because the attacks, seriously, were massive. I was no longer happy with my decisions, nor tastes, with anything. I tried everything: to listen to my favorite music, to watch series that motivated me and remembered me my goals and my own being. Met my friendships, my boyfriend. Nothing worked. Everything was getting worse: although I no longer paid attention and stopped going to tags for a while, the damage was already done to me, the doubts grew more and more in me:

"Why do I like grahamfield?" "Why couldn't you like the Pricefield?" "Why do you like Warren?" "Why can't Chloe be your favorite?"

And worse:

"Why do you always like the weirdest thing?" "Why can't you be like the others?" "Why don't you normal?" "Why do I think as I think?" "Why am I this way?" What was I born for? "Why do I exist?" "Why?" "Why?" "Why?"

My self-esteem went down a lot, I no longer wanted to draw and I didn't want to get out of bed. Everything looked gray and had attacks of crying. Although my problems had turned out. The depression was already in me. I had to go to the psychologist. I was diagnosed with Social Depression. It wasn't serious, but it had to be treated. I kept going to sessions. My psychologist is a love, I could tell her absolutely everything even if it sounded very absurd but she understood and helped me. My mom, my boyfriend, some friends help me too. Some things I discovered also help: Lukas Graham, Keane, Oxenfree, and more.

Throughout 2016 sometimes I suffered attacks of anxiety, doubts, of crying. It was difficult to deal for me, my mom and my boyfriend. But we don't give up. I didn't give up. I almost broke up with my boyfriend for believing it was a nuisance and weak, but I never did. Unfortunately sometimes looking Pricefield made me nervous and feeling of guilt for not liking Pricefield invaded me very hard. I swear that I tried by many means to like it and become my ship. I never could and currently I can't. I only see them as best friends.

So I drew Grahamfield. In fact, in this long road of recovery, Max and Warren accompanied me a lot, they were the characthers and a ship that helped me a lot in accepting myself as I am and with my tastes and choices. Little by little I was recovering. 2016 wasn't a very pleasant year for me, but still there some good memories of that year. 2017 was a better year. At the beginning of that year I could feel improvements, but sometimes the doubts continued and sometimes I woke up with stomachaches. Monstar Calls, Persona 5, Jughead's Comic, new friendships, and improved more. LiS's fandom was quieter and I drew more Grahanfield. But April was where I found that serie that made me try harder to get up.

Orange is the New Black and Bojack Horseman were those series that I watched in 2016 and helped me a lot to accept my depression, to accept myself, to defend myself and to love myself as I am. But that April 12 2017 I started watching 13 Reasons Why and everything was clearer to me. I know, 13RW is a very controversial series, but it helped me realize many, many things: how lucky I'm to have people around me who love and love me. That I want and I must be strong to protect those I want, to defend myself and demonstrate what I'm capable of achieving. Not giving up. It's worth moving forward. I want to live.

And so, with more strength and enthusiasm I began to overcome my low self-esteem, I began to draw more, to work for a while as a waitress and resume my studies to get my degree. There was only one problem: now I saw Pricefield and I got angry. It reminded me of all the pain I went through in 2016 for those rude people who liked Pricefield and kept attacking you just for liking another ship. But my anger is left just in that: Angry. I swear never, but NEVER come to attack or offend someone because they like Pricefield. I never did and never will.

2017 was a good year, although BTS isn't a game that I like very much, I enjoyed it somehow. My psychologist tells me that I'm much better. For me it meant that I had already overcome my depression. The earthquake of September 19 in 2017 was an event that greatly impacted me. I helped as much as I could, and there I realized that in 2018 I wanted to improve myself more as person. And I did it.

2018 was my best year: I participated in a film with rotoscopie technique called "Olimpia" and it's one of my greatest achievements and I'm proud to have participated in making animation. I did many activities that helped me grow as a person. I kept drawing Grahanfield and now I defended Warren and Grahamfield as I had never done, but this time with evidence. My love for the characters had come back and I had studied the subject more. American Vandal, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Shape of Water also arrived in 2018 and they helped me a lot.

2019 arrives: Carmen Sandiego and The Umbrella Academy get to inspire me professionally. I started a diploma in February of Graphic Novel to get my Bachelor's degree. I did it. I finished in August and this November they gave it to me. I'm already licensed. I've been calmly reading the LiS comic. Seeing things about Pricefield no longer fill me with anxiety. I absolutely feel good and happy with my tastes within the fandom of LiS.

In these days I have thought about my whole process. OITNB ended this year, next year ends Bojack Horseman and 13 Reasons Why. Those 3 series with their recent seasons have made me see that I must close a cycle. And that's why I count all this.

I tell my story as proof of how much the toxic side of the LiS fandom damaged me. That although everything remains calm sometimes, there are still people like that I managed to get ahead, and I hope that someone inside the fandom hasn't suffered something similar or worse. And still, to those people who damaged me only one thing I can say:

Thank you.

Thank you for your fatal acts, because even they have damaged me and brought me into depression, it caused me to get the best out of myself and show myself that I can be stronger.

I love Grahamfield, Max and Warren separately. These characters and ship aren't only that, they're my recovery symbol and reminder of loving me as I am. They mean to me a lot. They grew and healed with me. I appreciate these two separately and together. I never hated Chloe. She isn't my favorite but I appreciate her a lot, I recognize her flaws, and I still appreciate her. Chloe and me have things in common. But in truth: you don't know how much I identify with Max and Warren, that's how it was since I met the game.

I'm glad to notice my years of progress. But I also want to apologize if at some point I became rude for defending Warren and/or Grahamfield. Now I hope you understand where my courage and my insistence to defend it came from.

I also want to make it clear that I don't blame Pricefield or anyone who likes this ship or Chloe. But I want to prove that attacking someone just because doesn't like your ship isn't fine. You don't know what is happening to that person. Judging someone just for a taste is neither good nor kind. You don't know how much a characther/ship can mean for that person. Notice to what degree can damage their fanaticism that reaches the degree of intolerance. I also want to clarify that it isn't bad that someone doesn't like Warren and Grahamfield. What is wrong is that some don't understand that everyone likes. That understand that not everyone will like the same thing and they will not see it in the same way.

Everyone is a world. Everyone has their own worldview. Not because someone is different from you and doesn't like the same as you, it gives you the right to judge it as trahs and treat it as trahs.

Treat people as you would like to be treated.

I'm glad that in these 4 years that I like LiS I have found people who are still kind to me and others, and who respect each other's tastes and decisions. Both on Twitter, IG and here I have found friendly and fun people and I really appreciate them. They were a great help of my recovery. Really, thank you very much guys. Believe me that sharing the same taste for LiS but each one having different taste, still treating each other well and in a friendly way, helped me a lot and I'm very grateful. I will continue to like everything about LiS and LiS2. I will continue to draw about it and I will love to find friendships that also like LiS. Count on me when you need anything. LiS is still something important in my life, it helped me a lot to grow in several aspects. But I also won't let anyone keep offending/attacking someone else in the fandom if that person isn't hurting anyone. Respect and Tolerance among all please.

If you have read all this, you don't know how much I appreciate it. I hope this helps someone to reflect on our way of living, communicating, understanding and tolerating each other. I'm already very well, more than good.

I love myself.

Please love yourself.

You can do it!

#life is strange #lis #max caulfield #warren graham #grahamfield #pricefield #bae over bay #chloe price #rachel amber #amberprice #kate marsh #nathan prescott #victoria chase

177 notes · View notes

mrslittletall · 4 years

Text

Title: Off Balance (Chapter 7) Fandom: Hollow Knight Characters: The Pale King, The Pure Vessel, Herrah, Hornet Word Count: 10.962 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21805333/chapters/58496248 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/616114517764685824/title-off-balance-chapter-6-fandom-hollow

Summary: The Pale King and Hollow venture into Deepnest to meet up with Herrah, so that Hollow can meet their sister. Not everything goes smoothly.

(Author's note: Long chapter is long!

I would have liked to cut this chapter in two, but it feels like it has to be this long, it would feel wrong to cut it in half and publish as two chapters. There was so much I wanted to put into this chapter and I am satisfied I managed, I am just amazed that I managed to break the 10k word mark. That is the longest chapter I have ever written.

Once again, I need to thank all of you who commented on this piece, your support is what keeps me going.

I also need to thank @catanutella, who draw some art inspired by my fic which you can find here and @ruthlesslistener which latest Hollow Knight oneshot inspired me to add a tiny scene at the end.

Also, I shit you not, I dreamed up a scene for this chapter! Ask me which it was if you want or try to find it our yourself ^^)

“We will take the tram from the Basin to Deepnest.”, the Pale King said to Hollow as they walked away from the palace. “Once we are there, we have to walk the rest by foot.” The Pale King had preferred to take the tram that would lead more closely to Herrah's den, but even though construction works had gone on for a while now, it just never seemed to get finished. Maybe he should use the opportunity and see what the problem was, when he was already there.

“Tram?”, Hollow asked, quickly signing each individual letter, not knowing a sign for the word they just had learned.

“It's a vehicle that moves on rails.”, the Pale King explained. “It can move rather fast and get you from one point of Hallownest to another in a short amount of time, but it is fixed on one layer. The tram we are going to take will get us to the lower levels of Deepnest and then we need to climb up to meet Herrah at her den.”

“Understood.”, Hollow signed, silently following the Pale King, only the foot steps of their void feet, mixing with the clacking of the Pale King's claws, were heard. If one didn't knew they were there, it was easy to forget about their presence. The familiar guilty pang bloomed in the Pale King's chest, his teachings of not to feel anything had made them that way, that was the only reason they were so good at being silent, at acting as if they wouldn't exist.

It was only a short walk to the tram station, Hollow didn't even need any help, their balance had improved vastly over the last week, they mostly still had trouble with balance while trying to fight and when teleporting, they just wouldn't be able to stand straight after it, they always would get pulled down by their horns, having a few painful impacts with the floor whenever the Pale King hadn't managed to catch them in time. It had gone so far that they had to transfer the training near a soul statue, so that they could deal with the constant cracks in their shell. For how much the Pale King encouraged Hollow to make their own decision, training until they were so dry of Soul they could barely stand wasn't one he approved of, they could be surprisingly stubborn about their training. He just wondered from who Hollow had inherited that train, or not, he exactly knew from who they had inherited it.

Arrived at the tram station, the Pale King breathed out a short sigh of relief at how empty it was. This particular station was mostly occupied by bugs coming from and going to Deepnest, which wasn't a common occurrence. The main reason why the Pale King didn't want to ride the stag ways, even though he had ordered to build them, wasn't only that the stags weren't too fond at his decision to build the trams, but rather that they were riddled with bugs, bugs who would stare at him, bow to him and do nothing but praise him, a thing that was fine when they were far away, but felt extremely awkward when he was in the middle of it. He would feel like wanting to run away screaming, but would be forced to stay and act regal, he was their king after all, a higher being. It would only make him incredible cramped and would give him a desire to stay in the palace for a whole year, he wouldn't be a good role model for Hollow as well. They had picked up on his anxiety anyway already, no need to display it in front of them any more.

The Pale King pulled out the tram pass he had organized before they left and inserted it in the slot at the station, only a short while later the tram arrived. Hollow stared at it and if they would have been able to make an expression, the Pale King could swear their eyeholes would have gone larger.

“That is the tram.”, the Pale King said and moved closer to the door. “Let us enter.”

The both of them entered and the tram was as empty as the station in front of them, which was much to the Pale King's preference. That was the good thing about having a bad relationship with Deepnest, nobody ever wanted to go there. The Pale King sat down and gestured for Hollow to sit down next to him. As the tram rumbled and started moving, the Pale King noticed that Hollow fidgeted with their fingers.

“Are you nervous?”, he asked them.

“Yes.”, Hollow signed and the Pale King laid his claws on their shoulder. One of the advices in Monomon's letter, make your child feel safe and understood when they are unsure. Physical affection always seemed to help with Hollow.

There were a few minutes of silence before Hollow signed: “What is Deepnest like?”

“It's a dark place.”, the Pale King replied. “Actually, while we have to wait to arrive at our destination this is a good opportunity to tell you about a few rules.”

Hollow turned their head at the Pale King and cocked it lightly, showing that they were listening.

“Like I said, it is a dark place.”, the Pale King said. “Quite literally. When the White Palace is a place full of light, then Deepnest is a place devoid of light. I, naturally, glow in the dark, so I would like for you to stick close to me.” Hollow nodded as the Pale King got something out of his robes, a tiny glass ball filled with a few glowing flies. “But if we ever get separated, I need you to have this. It is a lumafly lantern. It will grant you light in a dark place.”

Hollow accepted the lantern and stared at it, stroking it with their fingers, observing it from all angles, obviously being fascinated by it. “Of course it would be better if we don't get separated.”, the Pale King said, leaving Hollow a few minutes to observe the lantern until they were satisfied.

“Next, Deepnest isn't a part of the kingdom.”, the Pale King said. “It consists mostly of predators and they could attack us, especially if they are infected.” The Pale King shuddered a bit, the infection was still a problem with no solution. He needed to find one, soon, at least before Hollow would offer to be the Vessel again. He still got an icy feeling in his stomach when he even thought about that scene.

“Herrah is kind of the leader of Deepnest, we don't want to anger her, so don't kill anyone that isn't infected.”, the Pale King said. “It would be better if you use your nail only in an emergency situation, let me handle any predators, I know enough spells to incapacitate them.”

Hollow nodded, but still clutched their nail. The Pale King remembered, that while Hollow had trained with a nail since they hatched, they never actually had gotten send out to fight the infected with the five great knights. They truly were a skilled warrior, but they lacked proper experience.

“So, in short, stay close to me, only use your nail when absolutely necessary. Do you understand?”, the Pale King asked and they confirmed with a nod.

A few more moments of silence and then Hollow signed another question: “Why is sister at Deepnest?” The Pale King noticed that they used the signs for dark and nest for the last word, practically calling it Darknest, but he got it just fine.

“It's because Hornet is watched over by Herrah.”, the Pale King said. “She... was part of the bargain to convince Herrah to be a dreamer. It's.. complicated.”

While the Pale King would have liked to tell Hollow exactly just how Hornet had come into existence, he felt it was a bit too much to unload on them that he practically had engaged in a dalliance with Herrah and Hornet could be considered his bastard child. His Root never had been mad at him for it though and she even seemed fond of Hornet, often talking about her whenever she met up with Herrah. The Pale King assumed that it was kind of a coping mechanism for his Root at the loss of her biological children.

Hollow didn't ask further. Why should they, he had let through that he was uncomfortable talking about this topic and they surely wouldn't pry further. The rest of the ride was spent in silence until the tram came to a screeching halt and Hollow nearly fell over at the sudden loss of balance, being supported by the Pale King who had grabbed the end of their robe.

“We are here.”, he said. “Stay close to me, Hollow.”

Hollow nodded and the both of them exited the tram. Around the station, there was still light, but it was barely possible to see two metres into the dark. Now the daunting task to navigate Deepnest and actually reach Herrah's den was in front of them. The Pale King pulled out a map of the place and planned a route while Hollow was looking at every direction, taking in the sight, or more the darkness, there wasn't much to see.

Once the Pale King had mapped out the route and saved it in his mind, he looked at Hollow who clearly had waited for his attention, because they signed: “Place is dark.” They looked around another time. “Not even birthplace was that dark.”

“Can... can we not talk about this place, please?”, the Pale King said, having a sinking feeling in his stomach, the sinking feeling of several thousand dead children locked in this place.

“Sorry.”, Hollow signed and they looked down, almost toppling over. Whenever they even shifted their horns downwards, their balance would be off at once.

“It's quite alright, Hollow.”, the Pale King said. “I am just... not ready facing that place again.” Or more, he had vowed to himself that he would never return to it. What was the point? Hollow had been the only survivor. All other vessels had been stillborn, cracked shortly after birth or had fell on the way to the top. It had been a cruel thing to watch and he had been a cruel father to let it happen, the guilt gnawing at him even months later.

However, enough about being lost in thoughts. They were on their way to something more bright. At least for Hollow it should be, the Pale King only felt incredibly awkward around Herrah, especially after the had... He shook his head and started to put one foot in front of the other. The sooner they managed to cross Deepnest, the better.

“Follow me and stay close.”, the Pale King said and Hollow nodded, starting to follow him. His natural light illuminated the caves around them, so that there wasn't a need for a light source, like he had explained to Hollow earlier. Most of Deepnest's inhabitants were quite sensitive to light, so he hoped that this would be enough to keep them at bay, even the infected ones. He had overheard some of the Royal Retainers once and some of them had admitted that it downright hurt looking at him, so bright could his light be.

The Pale King looked back to make sure that Hollow was following him. Despite their void nature, they weren't bothered by his light at all and if, they were excellent in hiding it. He saw that they had drawn their nail, despite him telling them earlier to only use it in an emergency situation, but he also knew that Hollow viewed their nail as emotional comfort. They probably only were holding it, with both hands, he realized, one at the handle and one at the tip, to calm themselves down from any fears they felt.

“Hollow, if anything is bothering you, tell me.”, the Pale King said, but Hollow shook their head and continued to follow him. They either were fine with the situation or tried to be brave and the Pale King suspected the latter was the case. However, because he tried to encourage them to be their own person, he didn't want to to make them feel that they couldn't make their own decisions. If he would tell them that they didn't have to be brave, they would only take this as cue to fall completely back into their dependency on him. Getting this mindset out of them was still a work in progress.

The walk was silent, well asides from the noises that Deepnest would make, the constant crawling and chittering of the bugs in the darkness and generally noises that made anyone feel unwelcome here. In the outer parts of Deepnest there lived mostly Dirtcarvers, a predator that would burrow underground and strike when their prey least expected it. Luckily, most of them still seemed to have their wits about them and didn't emerge, probably knowing that even with the bad relationship Hallownest and Deepnest had with each other, that it wouldn't be wise to attack the literal king and whichever bug was following him. On the rare occasions of an infected Dirtcarver emerging, the Pale King summoned a few spears and would incapacitate them in place, still hoping that they could find a cure for the infection and wouldn't have to take down every bug which displayed symptoms. At least the infection didn't seem to have spread too much to Deepnest, for most of the time, their walk was rather peaceful, in lack of better descriptions for Deepnest.

A bit further in, the Pale King spotted the first Deephunters glaring at him, quickly running away once him and Hollow approached, either being bothered by the light or fearing that this prey could be too big for them, not wanting to waste their venom. Of course their venom would be hardly deadly for a Higher Being, but it would still hurt and in too high concentration could start to get deadly, so the Pale King was rather satisfied that he didn't had to fend them back.

Occasionally the Pale King turned around to check on Hollow, once again regretting that he hadn't given them a voice, because without them making a single sound, it was hard to interpret just how they felt. They looked around and took in the surroundings, bravely following him step by step, sometimes needing help climbing a ledge by the Pale King, because jumping still caused them balance troubles and their wings weren't useful for flight, never commenting on the situation, probably because their hands were busy holding their nail and they didn't want to let go to sign or write in their journal.

“Are you feeling fine, Hollow?”, the Pale King asked after they had approximately reached the halfway point to Herrah's Den. Hollow just nodded and seemed to clutch their nail harder.

“Alright then.”, the Pale King said and started walking again. The ground of that tunnel felt kind of off, he thought. It felt like it could burst anytime and just as he realized that the weight of two bugs may be too much for the already fragile ground, it crumbled. In the spur of the moment the Pale King spread his wings to lift himself up, turning around having kind of suspected that Hollow had either jumped or teleported when they felt the ground giving in, but his child was nowhere to be seen.

“Hollow?!”, the Pale King asked, panic blooming in his chest. “Hollow, where are you?!”

Of course they didn't answer, couldn't answer, how could they without a voice. He had to find them and quick. That they weren't anywhere at the edge of the newly formed gap meant, that they probably had fallen down and what if they had gotten hurt and couldn't move and not even cry for help down there? The Pale King got a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Wait.”, he told himself, in an attempt to calm himself down. “If they have gotten hurt, then they must still be down there.” He flew the gap down, which thankfully wasn't that deep, but still deep enough for a bug to break their shell if they landed wrong and Hollow had the tendency to land on their head when they fell.

They weren't down there. At least that meant they hadn't gotten hurt enough so that they couldn't move or that they were able to heal any injuries with soul, but that was the only comfort the Pale King had. He actually had preferred to found them down there, where he easily would have been able to fix them up with his own soul, them not being there meant that they now were wandering through Deepnest, alone and scared and maybe out of enough soul to heal any injuries they could suffer.

“Hollow?”, the Pale King shouted again. “If you can hear me, make some noise.”

There wasn't anything and the earlier panic manifested back in the Pale King. What if he would never find Hollow again? What if he would only find their shell? What if their shade would get unleashed, lashing out at him for all the suffering he had inflicted on them? What should he tell his Root, that he lost their last living child? He sunk to the ground, heavily breathing, as the panic took completely over. The last time he had felt this hopeless had been when the Radiance nearly had killed him and he needed to channel every last amount of Soul to heal the life threatening injury. At least, that had only been about himself, now, he had lost the very one being he was responsible for, he had started to care so much about and he didn't want to lose for anything in the entirety of Hallownest.

The frantic beating of his heart in his chest slowed down as he made a decision. He wouldn't let Deepnest take his child. The Pale King got up and considered how he should start the search. Sadly, he had neglected to tell Hollow what to do when they got separated, it would be best for them to stay put, but judging how scared they seemed to be off Deepnest, they probably panicked once they got separated and ran away.

The Pale King noticed something on the ground which didn't reflect his light. Only one thing in Hallownest was able to swallow his light and that was... void. Indeed, there were traces of void on the floor, which implied that Hollow indeed had gotten hurt by their fall, but not hurt enough that they couldn't move anymore. If the Pale King would follow the trail, he would find them.

He hadn't followed the trail for long when he caught the glimpse of something white and black hushing along the tunnels, with two very big horns. “Oh, Hollow, there you are.”, the Pale King said, following their figure, not questioning why they didn't stop when they heard his voice or just why they could move so gracefully quick, even though they usually would fall over every few steps at this pace.

“Hollow, wait.”, the Pale King said, “Where are you heading? I am right here. Look, I am sorry that I left you hanging earlier. Aren't you hurt? Let's take a look at your wound.”

Hollow didn't answer, of course, but they also didn't sign or did... anything to show that they heard the Pale King. Sometimes they would stop and wait for the Pale King to catch up before hurrying into the tunnels again. “Have you discovered something and want to show it to me?”, the Pale King asked, getting more and more confused about Hollow's behaviour, a feeling that something was wrong with them grew inside of him, maybe they really had hit their head and now couldn't think straight or some parasite of Deepnest had taken over them. Either way, for the Pale King to help them, he needed to come closer and they always would run away again, when he was close enough to finally reach them.

“Hollow, stop this.”, the Pale King said “This isn't funny anymore.” They had arrived at a rather spacious tunnel and just now the Pale King noticed that there were two things wrong with Hollow.

The first one was, that they weren't carrying the Lumafly Lantern he had given them earlier. Judging from their earlier remark, they couldn't see in the dark.

The second, and that was the more alarming one, was that they weren't carrying their nail they had hold on so conscientiously earlier. Even when they had lost the nail, the Pale King knew that they would go search it before doing anything else. That was probably why they hadn't been there, they had let go of their nail and went to search it in a panic as their comfort item vanished from their grasp.

The suspicions of the Pale King about having faced an imposter became true when the “Hollow” in front of him started to transform and their body turned into one of a big black and orange predator (an infected one), hissing and bubbling at him. Of course it would attack, of all the bugs in Hallownest, he was the one the Radiance wanted to be dead the most.

“Hmph, don't underestimate me.”, the Pale King said, flicking his wrist to summon several projectiles, dictating them to fly at the predator and impale it. He knew he couldn't just incapacitate this one, but judging from the fury the creature had for him, its mind had been completely took over by the will and orders of the Radiance, getting it out of its misery could be considered an act of mercy.

The creature started to charge against him and the Pale King ordered his projectiles to target its head, but shortly before they could impact, he hesitated.

That was still Hollow's face the creature was wearing and even though the Pale King knew that he was unreasonable, after all he did to Hollow, he couldn't bring himself to hurt this face, even if it was clearly an imposter in front of him.

His hesitation was enough that he predator could pin him under its claws, roaring at him. He could practically hear the Radiance's excitement at finally having a chance to strike her arch enemy down, with the help of a powerful predator she had managed to overtake. The Pale King knew that he needed to attack, defend himself, but his gaze was still on the face of Hollow that the imposter was wearing and there was it, that crushing guilt. There was the picture inside of his mind of Hollow cowering in fear when he had made several projectiles fly at them, wanting to test their new balance, still thinking that they were nothing but an empty being, realizing how hard they had tried to pretend and it made him unable to move, even when the claw drove into his flesh, a hot pain searing through his shoulder and blood seeping out of the wound.

The pain briefly brought him back to the severity of the situation, if he wouldn't do something, anything, the predator would cut him down and the Radiance would get her will. Though, why she didn't order the predator to kill him right away... she probably wanted him to suffer, kill him slowly and painfully. He could use this to his advantage. He forced himself to conjure another projectile and hurled it between him and the claw, rolling away when the predator shrieked in protest at the sudden obstacle, struggling to get to his feet. He couldn't fight the creature, not as long as it was wearing Hollow's face and making him incapable of hurting it because of his own guilt, but at least he could flee and find the real Hollow, who hopefully hadn't become a victim of this predator.

That thought, together with the wound, was enough for the Pale King to struggle and fall over, the impact jostling the injury and making him incapable of getting up because of the pain.

“Focus...”, he murmured to himself, trying to conjure soul to heal himself, but it was too late. The predator had already caught up to him and he closed his eyes awaiting the impact of its razor sharp claws in his back, but it never happened. Instead, he heard the sound of metal clashing against claws.

As he opened his eyes and turned his head, he saw Hollow, the real Hollow, standing between him and the predator, their nail fighting against the force of their strike. They were shaking and the Pale King couldn't say if it was from effort or rage. He only knew that he was more than glad to see them, alive and well, though they did get pushed backwards one by one.

Enough of lying around., the Pale King thought to himself and though it would have been more wise to heal his injury first, seeing his child in danger made him lose any reasonable thoughts and so he jumped up and conjured several projectiles, ignoring the pain flaring up from his wound.

“Leave our child alone.”, he hissed, throwing the projectiles at the predator, now that his real child was here, that mind trick wouldn't work on him anymore.

His aim was a bit shaky, but most of the projectiles hit their mark, well, would, if the predator wouldn't have jumped backwards, dodging a majority of them in the last second. At least it gave Hollow some breathing room. The Pale King turned his head to check on them, only to see they were face first on the ground. Of course, they had tried with all their might to push back their foe and when suddenly the force pushing them back vanished, they would lose their balance and with them being still off balance, they wouldn't be able to keep themselves up.

With the nail in their right hand, they struggled to get up. The predator took this as a chance and their claw was about to strike down. The Pale King, while not being fond of it, it would cost him large amounts of soul, teleported between the claw and his child, summoning a barrage of projectiles to protect the both of them, but he wasn't quick enough, the claw managed to rip another wound, this time in his arm, he gasped as the pain hit him.

If he would have been in his wyrm form, that predator would have just been an easy meal, swallowed in one gulp, but he wasn't in his wyrm form anymore, he had changed himself to a form that was more akin to the bugs of this kingdom and with that came disadvantages. As he summoned another barrage of projectiles to not let the next strike hit them, especially not his child, he noticed that Hollow had managed to get up again and also noticed that they weren't waiting behind him, instead, they jumped up and drove their nail into one eye of the predator, which shrieked in pain, orange goop leaked out of it.

“Hollow, what are you doing?! Stay behind me!”, the Pale King yelled, unaware that he had been on the defense all this time and Hollow just wanted to give him an opening, he could only watch when after the attack they failed their landing and the impact with the ground sounded rather painful.

The Pale King dropped any projectiles he still controlled and hurried over to his child, summoning new projectiles on the way, intending to string them between the predator and his child, but pain, blood loss and exhaustion from all the soul he had used caught up to him and made him unable to spread his wings, instead, he scurried over the ground, having to see how the claws of the predator bolted down on a helpless Hollow, which stared, simply stared and shortly before the claw could hit them, they didn't use their nail in an attempt to block it, but instead looked away and flicked their left hand, spear pillars emerging from the ground, impaling the predator on them.

The Pale King watched with wide eyes as the death cry of the creature sounded and even Hollow managed to direct their gaze back, crawling a bit backwards when they saw what had happened. Copious amounts of the infection regorged on the ground, staining Hollow, and the shell of the predator soon fell lifeless on the ground once the pillars vanished.

Hollow started shaking and soon tears ran down their face. The Pale King was at their side in an instant to pull them into a hug.

“Father.”, they signed. “Scared.”

“I know.”, the Pale King said. “I was scared too.” Scared of losing you. “I am so sorry that I lost you earlier.” He hugged them tighter, their shaking still not ceasing. They must have been terrified and still, they had saved him. Without their interference, he would have let himself strike down by the predator, simply because he couldn't get the image out of his mind of a Hollow that had cowered in fear of him.

Hollow reciprocated the hug, but withdrew their hand and stared at the white liquid on it. His blood.

“Father, you are hurt.”, they signed. “You saved me. Now you are hurt.” They then proceeded to sign the word sorry in quick succession until the Pale King took their hands in his claws, not without wincing, that arm and shoulder of his hurt, preventing them from signing the word out once more.

“The opposite is the case, Hollow. If you wouldn't have come, I would have let myself struck down. It was you who made me able to move again and it was you who took down the predator.”, he said, slowly releasing their hands.

“I did?”, they asked. “Not you?”

Clearly they were confused and seemed to think that the last attack had come from the Pale King, not from them, no wonder, they never had used this attack before. The Pale King was once again astonished about their tight control over soul, even though they had done it in a panic, they had managed to copy a complex spell that he may have shown them once or twice when they still had been a grub.

“No, that was all you, Hollow.”, the Pale King said and then scanned their body. “Are you hurt? Are you in pain?”

Hollow first shook their head and then nodded, contradicting themselves.

“Well, yes or no?”, the Pale King asked.

They raised shaky hands to sign: “Cut my foot earlier. Is not bad. Healed my shell with soul.”

That meant, they had gotten hurt earlier by their fall and, like the Pale King had anticipated, fell face first, though that didn't explain how they managed to cut their foot. Which also was void and so couldn't be healed with soul, which only would heal the shell.

“Can you explain how it happened?”, the Pale King said.

Hollow was silent for a while and then signed: “Fell. Felt a panic. Teleported. Foot got caught in something sharp. Fell over again. Hit my head. Healed it with Soul. Then couldn't see you anymore. Went to search.”

Alright, that explained just how it had come to all of the events that led to this moment. The Pale King should have never let Hollow fall down into that pit, they didn't knew what they should do and had tried to find their only source of comfort and the person they depended on: Him.

“Let me see your wound.”, the Pale King said.

“Father, your own wounds...”, they signed, but he shook his head and said: “I can heal myself in a second, let's take care of you first.” The relief of his child being safe was enough to make him forget that there still was blood seeping out of his own cuts, staining his robes and the ground around him.

Hollow shyly presented him their left food, which indeed had a nasty cut in it which leaked void blood.

“I can't heal void with soul.”, he said. “But we can make sure that it doesn't bleed anymore.” He conjured a bit more soul and formed it into the form of strap, which wrapped itself around Hollow's feet, securing the wound tightly and keeping it from leaking. “There, now you should be able to strain it without trouble.”

Hollow got up and took a few shaky steps, nodding, then stared expectant at him.

“I know, I know, I will heal myself now.”, the Pale King said and conjured up soul to guide into his injuries, but he had to realize that there wasn't any soul left to guide anywhere.

“I … seem to be out of soul.”, he said and along with the realization and the relief about Hollow being fine, the severity of his injuries came toppling down on him and he could feel himself slip into unconsciousness.

When the Pale King awoke, he still noticed a dull pain in his arm and shoulder, but they felt much more manageable. He was propped up against a wall and when he investigated his wounds, he saw that they were wrapped tightly, not with soul, but with what looked suspiciously like Hollow's robe. He turned his head to search for them and found them in the middle of the cave, where the predator had hung it's prey from the ceiling, working on getting a Dirtcarver down with their nail. There were several more dead bugs hanging from the ceiling, clearly victim of Deepnest's philosophy of “eat or get eaten”. One of them looked kinda like a Vessel. The Pale King blinked and then shook his head, was his mind still playing tricks on him? Asides from Hollow, no other Vessel survived.

Once Hollow managed to cut down the Dirtcarver, they took the prey in both hands and brought it over to the Pale King, cutting pieces out of it with their nail.

“What are you doing?”, the Pale King asked, startling them. They turned their head to them, laid their nail down and signed: “Father, you are awake.”

“Yes, indeed.”, the Pale King said. “So, what are you doing?”

“Food.”, they signed. “Tried to heal you. Failed. Only healed myself. Patched up your wounds.”

Indeed, their robe was in poor shape and they obviously had cut off one sleeve to use it as bandages for his injuries and now they tried to feed him, probably hoping that his soul would be able to get replenished by eating.

“Soul doesn't get replenished by eating.”, he said. “Only by resting or directly absorbing it from a source. That is why we have the soul statues in the palace.”, he said.

They stopped cutting up the Dirtcarver and looked at the Pale King. He didn't need words to know what they wanted to say. “Eating surely won't hurt.”, he said. Even though in his current form he had started to cherish food that had been prepared, he had just ate everything raw once. It wouldn't kill him to devour one Dirtcarver, especially when it would make his child happy. “But I want you to eat too.”, he said. Hollow was still a growing grub and would need large amounts of energy once their second transformation hit. He wouldn't let them go hungry.

Hollow nodded and soon they were biting down on the Dirtcarver, which soft shell luckily was easy to break through. By tasting the raw meat, the Pale King even could feel some of his old instincts coming back, the desire to hunt and taste fresh blood on his tongue. He couldn't believe how primitive and brutal he once had been. Hollow ate in silence next to him, in their own unique way, which pretty much just looked like their void body absorbed the food. That was probably what they were doing. He needed to finally ask them just how they were eating, but that was a question for another day.

After they were finished, the Pale King got up and took a look at Hollow, their cut robes and the orange stains of infection on their shel as well as his own torn robes, his bandages shimmering through. “We are pretty worn up.”, he said and took out the map, until he found the landmark of the lair of the predator, studying it to find the route back to Herrah. Even though he would have preferred to get Hollow home that instant, they seemed to have calmed down and he could only imagine how mad Herrah would get if he wouldn't show up.

“Oh, there is a hot spring on the way.”, the Pale King said. “We should stop there, to get cleaned up and heal our injuries. Hot springs are a natural source of soul.”

Hollow nodded and the Pale King took a step forwards only to get dizzy and almost fall over. He had lost too much blood. Hollow tried to catch him, but only fell over with him.

“My apologies.”, the Pale King said. “I seem to be a bit weaker than I thought...”

Hollow got up, straightened themselves, put their nail into the ground and then lifted him up with a strength he didn't even know they possessed, using their left arm to support him and their nail to prop themselves up, giving him a stare that the Pale King only could interpret as: “Lead the way.”

A gladly uneventful, but rather painful journey later, the both of them had arrived at the hot spring. “Finally.”, the Pale King said, as Hollow released their grip on them. He opened his robe and let it fall on the ground before stepping into the hot water, already feeling how the natural soul in it seeped into his body and closed the cuts on his arm and his shoulder. As he was in the process to remove the bandages, he saw Hollow joining him.

“I don't know if the hot spring can heal your void body, so better don't take off the bandage around your foot, just in case.”, the Pale King said. Hollow nodded and in the natural light of the hot spring, he could see a lot better just how dirty their shell was.

“Hollow, come here.”, he said, gesturing for them to come closer, which they did, their empty eyeholes staring at him. “Turn around, I am going to wash your horns.”

Hollow did so without hesitating, even sinking a bit deeper into the water, giving the Pale King easier access to their horns. The Pale King started to gently clean their horns with the hot water of the spring, scrubbing off the dirt and especially the chunks of infection that had gotten stuck in the jagged parts. Hollow of course didn't say anything, didn't even move while he worked, but he had the feeling that their former tense posture seemed to relax under his care.

Once he was done, he laid his hands on Hollow's shoulder and said: “There, now you look presentable again.”

Hollow nodded and then watched as the Pale King proceeded to wash his own body, mostly making sure that his body would absorb all the soul it could. As he carefully cleaned the area around the King's Brand, not wanting to damage the charm, he noticed that Hollow stared on it or more, at a area slightly beneath it.

“What is it, Hollow?”, the Pale King asked, stopping to wash himself and waiting for them to explain. They raised their hands, or stubs, upon their relaxation they seemed to have released the shapeshift. After a few seconds of forcing the void to form fingers again, they signed: “Scar? How?”

The Pale King's face fell a bit upon their question. He had preferred for that question to be asked another time.

“...It was the Radiance.”, he murmured, staring down into the hazy water. “I grossly underestimated her and her willingness to attack when I was still a young and clueless wyrm and just had arrived at this kingdom.”

He raised a hand and laid it over the scar. He could still feel the pain, shock and panic from back then. “Trying to negotiate, she didn't want to listen and hit me with one heavy blast. I could heal myself with soul, but I used up all of it to heal up the deadly wound. It was the day that I learned that I wouldn't win a direct fight against her.”

He removed the hand from his chest and looked at Hollow, which, from the outside, pretty much looked like always, but their stance implied shock. It maybe had been too much for them, he was pretty much their whole world and knowing that he almost died to the enemy they had been supposed to seal...

“F..forget about this.”, the Pale King said, noticing that while he had told that tale, he had unintentionally flared his wings. “That hasn't anything to do with you.”

Hollow just shook their head and also didn't raise their hands to sign. Instead, they got up, staggering for a tiny moment before catching their balance and then moved behind the Pale King. The Pale King just assumed that they had enough of bathing and wanted to shook the water off, when he felt the icy sensation of their fingers at his wings and winced in surprise.

“What are you doing, Hollow?”, he asked. “Be careful, these things are sensitive.”

Hollow stopped and tapped his shoulder to get his attention. As he turned around, they signed: “Will wash wings of Father. Father complained about them not easy to wash.”

“You remembered that?”, the Pale King said, kind of amazed. He had indeed said something to them, shortly after they hatched and he had brought them in the palace, giving them their first bath and having talking to them as if they were a real hatchling and not a mindless construct to seal the Radiance. Well, now he knew they had been a real hatchling. That meant, they must have felt emotions since they had been very young.

Hollow nodded and the Pale King had the feeling they would have said more things, but their hands was busy gently grooming his wings, their icy touch combined with the hot water of the spring a completely new sensation, but not an unpleasant one. So far, he had only allowed his Root to touch his wings. Thinking about it, Hollow's touch was not unlike the one of his Root, proving once more that they were indeed his and his wife's child.

Once they were done and retreated, the Pale King felt not only clean, but also relaxed and bursting with soul. He stood up and shook the water off, walking over to his robes, because he didn't intend to stand in front of Herrah's door naked, even though she had already seen him like that, he didn't want to send the wrong message. To his disdain, his robe was not only torn, but also stained with his blood.

And Hollow's robe didn't look much better, mostly stained with orange infection blotches and that one sleeve completely cut off, having formed his earlier bandages, which were now laying next to the hot spring, soaked and stained with his blood.

“...Let's at least wash them.”, the Pale King said and used the water of the hot spring to clean the robes out, removing any stains and then using his soul to dry them, at least enough that they could be worn comfortably again.

He handed Hollow their robe and slipped into his own. “We can't do anything against the cuts.”, he sighed. “And I am afraid we have to get a new robe for you.” As Hollow let their head hang, he quickly added: “Oh no, don't worry, you did the right thing.” Hollow's head perked up again and the Pale King finished his thought: “However, it's better than to stand to stand in front of Herrah's door step naked. She will have to live with our clothes being torn.”

After all, it had been a predator in her territory that they owed their current state. Herrah could be glad that it had been infected, had the creature been lucid, it would have seriously worsened the relationship between Deepnest and Hallownest.

As the Pale King studied the map and planned out the route, Hollow stepped next to him and he saw the soul bandage around their foot, a stab of guilt in his chest. That had only happened because he hadn't paid enough attention. Once the Pale King folded the map and put it away, his hand found the one of Hollow and closed around it.

“I won't let go of your hand.”, he said and he could feel them squeeze his hand, telling him that they understood.

The rest of the way they didn't get attacked by an infected powerful predator anymore, but Deepnest showed beautifully just why it was so feared by almost all bugs, with Weavers scampering around, appearing from seemingly nowhere, Stalking Devouts demonstrating just how they chopped up their prey as well as the creature known as Corpse Creeper waiting in seemingly harmless husks, that had became prey for another bug, and bursting out when last expected, as well as the ground constantly crumbling and while the Pale King didn't lose Hollow anymore, the moment the ground vanished under them again, Hollow got a good scare.

Now they were finally in front of Herrah's Den and Hollow couldn't help it anymore, they were shaking, finally giving in their fear and nestling against the Pale King, who did his best to calm them down, by rubbing soothing circles in their back.

“There you are.”, the voice of Herrah sounded, appearing out of the shadows. “You certainly took your time.”

“There is a reason for our delay.”, the Pale King said, slipping in his monarch personality, but Herrah's gaze was entirely fixated on Hollow.

“What's wrong with them?”, the asked.

“...Deepnest was a bit much...”, the Pale King murmured and Herrah scoffed.

“Of course Deepnest would be too much for a child that you treated like a thing until you finally realized how dumb this was. Why did you even make them walk through the entirety of Deepnest when there is a stag station right there? Let me guess, because you didn't want to be seen by anyone in public.”

The Pale King shrunk down under her words more and more, each of her words was driving the nail deeper into the coffin.

“Come here, child.”, Herrah said, her voice taking on a rather motherly tone. “Let's get you a hot drink and some food to calm you down.” The Pale King saw how she gently guided Hollow inside, who turned their head to look at him, with that cocking of their head that portrayed concern.

After a good while had passed, the Pale King managed to get himself together and followed Herrah and Hollow inside, where he found them sitting at a table, Hollow having a steaming cup of ...whatever in front of them as well as something that looked like cookies, but probably was made out of meat. Either way, they didn't seem to care, because their shaking had stopped and they were devouring the “cookies” without a second thought.

“Ah, there you are, wyrm.”, Herrah said as she spotted him. “You said there was a reason for your delay. Is it the same reason why the robes of your child are torn?” She gave him another glance and he was sure she narrowed all of her eight eyes under that mask. “Your own don't look much better. How unusual for you to come into another's territory in such an unkempt state.”

“We were attacked by an infected predator.”, the Pale King said. “It lured is into its lair. Hollow managed to take it out.”

“Let me guess. Big, black, with long legs and showed you something you care about to lure you in?”, Herrah said. The Pale King nodded and Hollow added by doodling a picture of how the predator looked on their journal, which they apparently had used to converse with Herrah, judging by the few words written in it.

“Nosk, as I was thinking. One of the predators that could rival me, but never dared to attack my den. It always would hunt far away from it.”

The Pale King shuddered a bit, how casually Herrah was talking about territorial behaviour, it reminded him once again of the wyrm tribe, only that he had decided to take a much more civilized approach. The reason that Deepnest didn't get along with Hallownest was mainly because they still held on to their instincts, even with a mind to think.

“You must be quite a fighter to have taken it down.”, Herrah said, her gaze on Hollow, as opposed as when she was staring the Pale King down, it very much softened once they talked to Hollow.

They just shook their head and wrote something in their journal. Herrah looked at it and said: “What, that wyrm that just sits in his palace and tinkers in his workshop all the time? Unbelievable.”

“We can hear everything you say, Herrah...”, the Pale King said, not having enough energy to start a full-fledged argument. Herrah always seemed to be able to just put him into her pocket. He kind of found it unbelievable that he really had shared a night with her.

Herrah gave him that glance that looked like she wanted to say “Do I look like I care?” and he could hundred percent believe that this sentence was on the tip of her tongue.

“Whatever.”, she said. “You came here for a reason, mainly for the reason that Hollow had the chance to meet their sister.”

Hollow nodded and almost fell with their head on the table, balancing themselves with their hands just in time and then signed two words. Herrah looked at the Pale King and he knew that she silently prompted him to translate.

“They want to know where there sister is now.”, the Pale King said. In truth Hollow had only signed the words for “sister” and “where”, but he decided to embellish their words a bit more.

“Just in the back room.”, Herrah said and stood up from the table. “But before we go there, just a minute.” Herrah made a sound as if she had clicked her fingers, which felt impossible, because she didn't even had fingers, she was a spider after all, and shortly after, a weaver appeared. “Fix the robes of the king and the child.”, she said and the weaver got to work right away, soon the robes of the Pale King had been patched up with spider silk and Hollow's robe even got a whole new sleeve from the same silk. They tugged and prodded at it with interest.

“All your clothes should be made by spider silk.”, Herrah said. “You won't find a more sturdy material in the whole of Deepnest.”

It's not like Deepnest would ever offer their silk to us., the Pale King thought, but didn't enunciate. For now, he decided to stay polite. It was for Hollow's sake after all.

“We thank you very much for your assistance, Herrah.”, he said and even gave her a polite bow, which only earned him another one of those Herrah-glances.

“Now, let's get you to meet your sister.”, Herrah said, attention at Hollow, who stopped investigating their fixed up robe and looked from Herrah to the Pale King.

“Go.”, he just said and saw how one of Herrah's legs gently laid down on Hollow's shoulders and guided them through the room. He himself followed them at a certain distance, fearing a bit that his natural light would upset the child, that had been born in Deepnest and certainly was more used to the darkness, though Herrah's Den wasn't as dark as the rest of Deepnest. For once, he cherished Hollow's void body, that didn't reflect light. They certainly wouldn't upset their little sister with being too bright.

It surely was only a short walk, but for the Pale King it felt unbearable long. He hadn't seen his daughter since she had hatched, wanting to wait for her to grow until inviting her in the White Palace, hoping that Herrah would agree for her to come over and, he had to admit, there had been a part in him that hoped that she would allow him to raise her once she turned dreamer, but he had buried this part deep under his sense of duty. He hadn't even raised the child of himself and his Root right, how should he be able to raise his bastard daughter?

Finally arrived (though it probably only had been a minute or so), Herrah stopped and gestured to a red bundle sitting on the floor, a bright white face with black eyes and two horns starting to grow from the top, similar to Herrah's. She was busy stacking blocks on each other (the Pale King didn't want to know from which bug husk they had been fabricated) and giggled once the whole structure crumpled and fell.

“There, this is my sweet, little Hornet.”, Herrah said, nothing but love and devotion in her voice. Hollow just stood there and stared and then raised both hands to their face. The Pale King had never seen them done this before, but he could only assume that they tried to express just how adorable Hornet was for them. “Why don't you go over to her?”

Hollow once again looked back to the Pale King, who gave them a gesture to just go. Now that any danger was averted, they seemed to be full back on their dependency for him, though this was a new situation for them, so he could hardly blame them.

Hollow took a few shaky steps towards Hornet, fidgeting with their hands, then seemed to take a deep breath and took the last few steps to their sister with much more confidence, carefully sitting down next to her. Hornet stopped her game of block stacking to look at the new bug beside her. Hollow raised their hand to wave. Hornet waved back with one of her little spider arms, it was kind of adorable and then she took Hollow's hand and invited them to join her in her game.

“This went better than expected.”, the Pale King sighed out, not aware that he had said this out aloud.

“Oh? Did you expect for your child to attack their sister, wyrm?”, Herrah said.

“What?! No, of course not.”, the Pale King said, wondering how Herrah even could come to that conclusion and remembering that maybe after their union he had rambled about how it was common for wyrm hatchlings to eat their siblings and that Herrah maybe should keep her half wyrm hatchling fed as well as possible. “We were... worried about other stuff.”

“I noticed.”, Herrah said, crossing her two upper front legs. “All that glancing back to you, being unsure what to say or how to act, waiting for someone, anyone to command them.” The Pale King already flinched under her words, feeling that he knew what would come next. “When I took them in, I had to tell them to sit down, had to tell them that it was fine to take from the offered refreshments and had to ask them if they had a way to communicate, because they would literally not move on their own.” She gave him another sideway glance. “Wyrm, you have done your best to raise this child into an obedient little knight.”

“We know...”, the Pale King said, looking at the ground. “We are working on reversing it. It's... a work in progress.”

“Good luck trying to get this behaviour out of them.”, Herrah said. “Children need love, care and devotion and not being told that they are a mindless construct only there to act as a vessel.”

These words hit the Pale King so hard, that he could physically feel them. “We know we haven't been the best father to them...”, he started in a weak attempt to defend himself.

“Not the best? Wyrm, that is the understatement of the century. Or the millennia, to put it in a time span that your race understands.”, Herrah said and managed to drown out any arguments the Pale King had in stock for the moment.

After a few minutes, he regained his composure and said: “...You were fine with the plan.”

“To keep my people... and her..”, she gestured at Hornet who was currently clapping at how high Hollow was able to stack the blocks, “safe. I never was fine with your 'methods', wyrm.”

“We realized that our methods were wrong.”, the Pale King said, trying to put his attention on Hollow and Hornet. This whole conversation was making him feel sick.

“Better late than never.”, Herrah said. “However, be aware, that husks in your closet will come to haunt you.”

They already do., the Pale King thought to himself, not a single day passed where he regretted what had happened in the Abyss. Desperately trying to change the subject, he said: “Hornet has grown quite a bit since we last saw her.”

At once, Herrah's tone softened, it was more than clear that Hornet was her world, her everything and that she would do everything for her. Even becoming a dreamer. “Yes, she did had her last molt just recently. I still have her old exoskeleton.”

“Herrah, what?”, the Pale King said, feeling a tiny bit grossed out. He didn't remember that his parents had collected his molt, but wyrm society was a lot different than bug society. Also, he probably had eaten his molts as a hatchling, anything edible just wasn't safe around wyrm hatchlings. He silently thanked himself that his transformation into bug physiologically had succeeded that far, that at least his children hadn't tried to eat each other. Not that this would have helped them anyhow, they still were very dead in the abyss... He seriously needed to stop thinking about this. He blamed the shape similar to a Vessel he believed to have seen in Nosk's lair.

“Hmph, of course you haven't kept anything personal of your child, being too busy to convince them to be, you know, the Vessel.”

Ah, there they were again. The Pale King had to admit, he never had cleaned out the void chrysalis that Hollow had hatched from into their current adolescent form. Back then he had just convinced himself that he didn't had time for it, but nowadays he knew that he had grown attached and wanted to keep that sign of their development. He didn't try to engage into another conversation with Herrah and instead watched Hollow and Hornet.

Hornet had lost interest in her block stacking game and had became far more engrossed by Hollow, or more, their horns. They had lowered their head for her to take a better look and she examined especially the jagged parts, seeming to be fascinated by them. It made sense for the Pale King, she only knew her own horns and that of her mother, which were smooth, how Hollow's horn jagged at three places was something completely new for the little spiderling.

“They seem to like each other.”, Herrah said. “I haven't seen Hornet that fascinated since a while.”

The Pale King just nodded, not taking his gaze of his children. Looking at Hornet like this, still a tiny grub, not even able to talk properly yet, just reminded him how hard he had tried to convince himself that Hollow was nothing but an empty vessel, damaging them and their relationship in the process. He had never allowed them to be a child, raised them for a purpose and only realized how wrong he had acted when they already had reached their adolescence. The Pale King suddenly understood just why Quirrel had advised against letting them visit a school, they were emotionally certainly not ready for it, not only because of their dependency, but also because he had never allowed them to be a normal child and now that he allowed it, they had trouble getting the concept and it was his fault alone.

After Hornet had enough of Hollow's horn and they raised again (not with almost falling over the other way, which made Hornet giggle), she tugged on their robes. Hollow looked at the Pale King and Herrah and the Pale King knew this gaze, they were asking for advice, or more, asking how to act.

“She wants you to pick her up.”, Herrah said and as Hollow cocked their head at her, she added: “It's fine, she is a sturdy little grub. Just yesterday she climbed the cupboard and didn't had a single scratch when she fell down.”

Now the Pale King gave Herrah a side glance and that after she had lectured him about bad parenting, but then he remembered that Herrah was half spider and spiders just never seemed to get hurt when they fell down. Also, he doubted that Herrah would have let Hornet done something she deemed dangerous.

Hollow carefully extended their arms and searched for a way to pick Hornet up. Once they managed, the grub flinching a bit, surely because of the sudden coldness, they gently sat her down on their lap. Hornet looked up at them for a brief moment and then cuddled their face in their robes.

It was more than adorable and the Pale King averted his gaze, feeling his face blush, as all these feelings about his children, both of them, threatened to spill over, but was pushed forwards by Herrah.

“Why are you standing there, wyrm? These are your children, you should join them.”

He took a few shaky steps towards them, realizing just how much he acted liked Hollow earlier when he caught himself fidgeting with his claws, almost falling over his own tail when it wrapped around his legs. Then, he followed Hollow's example and took a deep breath, covering the last few steps with a newfound confidence, sitting down to both of his children.

“Hollow, do you like your sister?”, the Pale King asked, knowing that Hornet was still a bit too young to answer any questions. They nodded and if they had been able to smile, the Pale King was sure they would have done it. Hornet stared at him with wide eyes, that eyes that only grubs could have and Hollow picked her up from their lap and offered for him to take her.

“Um..”, the Pale King said, being ready to jump up and hide behind Herrah, “What if she gets fuzzy...”

“You are her father, wyrm.”, Herrah sighed. “Just hold her.”

So, the Pale King complied and gently took Hornet into his arms, she was a lot warmer than he anticipated and tugged at his robes, clearly being interested in them. Hollow sat next to the Pale King, their gaze on their sister and he could feel Herrah's watchful gaze on him, but mostly he was amazed. How this little grub, that came from an union between him and the queen of Deepnest, could feel so comfortable in his arms. He decided to just cherish this moment, for once not thinking about anything he would regret, thinking about that Hornet would be able to grow up with her mother and maybe, when she was older, even visit the White Palace, and if only to play with Hollow.

After a while Hornet had enough from getting cuddled and demanded to be sat down by rather loud chirping, which the Pale King did. The little spiderling dashed with an awesome speed to her mother which picked her up and said: “Well, I think that was enough excitement for her. I should try and lay her down for a nap.”

Herrah then excused herself and left the room, leaving the Pale King and Hollow alone.

“Father.”, Hollow signed. “I don't understand one thing.”

“What is it you don't understand?”, the Pale King asked.

Hollow signed a few words and then shook their head, clearly unsatisfied with how they formed the sentence and instead flipped their journal out.

“Herrah said she is Hornet's mother, but she is my sister, so why isn't my mother also Hornet's mother?”

“Um.”, the Pale King said, having preferred to explain it to them at another date. “It is true that Hornet is the daughter of Herrah. The daughter of Herrah and... me. We could say, the two of you are... half siblings, you share one parent.”

Hollow stared at the Pale King and then wrote another sentence: “Does that mean Herrah is a homewrecker?”

The Pale King had a bit of trouble believing his own eyes as he stared down at their journal: “Who even taught you this word?!” (Author's note: A big thanks to @dreamlikequality who inspired me to add the scene with Nosk. A thing about Hollow is, that I really enjoy the challenge of writing them as mute and not being able to form any expressions, so that I need to think about several factors when they want to talk. Their sign language improved in this chapter, but their sentences are still easy and simple. However, I am not perfect, so if you want to add anything to how to write a mute character and how to handle sign language, feel free to tell me. Hornet is still young in this chapter, young enough to not being able to talk yet, I would say as a human child she would be around one year old. It was my first time writing Herrah and as one of the characters we don't know much about, a lot of it is headcanon based, but I hope you enjoy my interpretation of her. Please tell me your thoughts and favourite parts of that chapter in the comments down below. Thank you very much.) Chapter 8

#hollow knight #fanfiction #the pale king #the pure vessel #hornet #herrah #littlewritesstuff #uh I am really insecure about this chapter #if you could tell me your thoughts would be greatly appreciated #herrah murdered pk in cold blood #hornet and hollow are so precious

25 notes · View notes

syubology · 5 years

Text

How to Start Writing

A lot of questions I’ve gotten over the past few years have been to do with actually starting to write, putting those first words down. Sometimes it’s people who used to write and are daunted by the task of getting back into it, other times it’s brand new writers, just tiny word-gremlins brimming with untapped inspiration, lacking the cynicism induced by years.. decades of having your life ruled by imaginary creatures.

At the end of the day, the only tried and tested tip for starting to write is WRITE, but I will try to provide you with a few others for the sake of appearances.

🌙

1. Start Small.

Maybe you’re incredibly imaginative and you have this entire fantasy series in your head just ready to be put on paper, but... try not to rush into it. When I started writing first, every idea I had was for a novel, but I didn’t actually have the skills (and still don't) to complete a novel, so this led to a string of failed projects, which is not good for the delicate soul of a tiny word-gremlin.

If you do have a big idea you love, I would suggest writing smaller stories, with simpler plots, based in that universe - for example, you could use a prompt list/generator (Google them, they’re everywhere) and adapt those prompts to your universe. If your story is some epic sci-fi horror series and the prompts are about funfair dates, it could make for quite an interesting time. These exercises will allow you to work on your characters and your world, while giving you time to build the skills you need to one day develop the story into something bigger.

If you want to work on fan-fiction specifically, fluffy drabbles are your friend. You can start NSFW if you really want to, but I don’t advise it. Some people find smut comes easiest to them, but for me - and most writers I know - sex is one of the hardest things to write. Again, you can try prompt generators (like this OTP one here) or check places like Twitter for AU ideas - although, if you’re planning to post/share your story, do not use other people’s AU ideas without their permission!

2. Read! Watch! Consume!

Consuming other media is literally one the most important things for writers and new writers in particular. Watching/reading casually is a great way to spark some inspiration, but if you find something you really love, something that makes you think I wish I wrote this, then I suggest going over it again with a more critical eye. Focus on the character development, the plot, the aesthetics - try to pinpoint the aspects of it that really make it resonate with you. Low-stress exercises like this will also help you learn more about storytelling in general without actually putting much effort in, so it’s win-win.

3. Adjust Your Expectations.

Understand that creative writing, especially on the scale of a novel, is a skill which needs to be developed. Just because you got good grades in English class does not automatically mean you’re going to be an excellent writer, and just because you’re not an excellent writer now doesn’t mean you never will be. No one picks up a paintbrush for the first time and expects to create a masterpiece. Artists of all sorts work hard for years to hone their craft and develop their style, and writers are no exception to this. You will not be good overnight and half the stuff you write in your first year, you probably won’t be able to read by next year because it will make you cringe so hard - but that’s not a bad thing! This means you’ve improved so much that even you can see it and getting a writer to acknowledge their own growth is no simple feat.

4. PRACTICE, but maybe not too hard?

There’s no such thing as I can’t write, or I can’t draw, or I can’t ride a bike. You can - with practice. You should know what your goals are with your writing and adjust your practice based on this. Do you just wanna spend one or two evenings a week writing about your OTP/OCs on cute dates? That’s fine, work at your own pace, and don’t force yourself to write if you’re not feeling it. Are you angling for a six-figure book deal? Then you write till your eyes bleed, my fren, you write till your bones are empty and your laptop keyboard is talking back to you.

That said, you do need to know when to stop. Creative burnout (which is a big cause of writer’s block) is real and it is horrible. Practice isn’t always a blast, but it should never be torture. Maybe you need that six-figure book deal more than you need life itself (big mood), but you also need to sleep, friend, you also need to do some things that aren’t writing or you will lose your goddamn mind.

5. Bonus: Write Because You Want to Write.

I’ve used the artist/drawing analogy several times because over the years in fandom, I’ve seen quite a few people start writing simply because they ‘can’t draw’ and writing seems like a good alternative. While I don’t enjoy the common misconception that being a good writer is easier than being a good artist, I’m not saying those people are wrong. Everyone should dabble in the arts and see what their creative side has to offer - this might be how you find your true calling and that’s wonderful. Just understand that while writing comes a little easier to some, it’s not easy for anyone. There is a huge pressure in certain fandoms to create in order to feel included, so just make sure that you’re having fun with what you’re doing and not simply succumbing to that pressure.

A Final Note:

I’m not trying to shit on artists with all these analogies, I swear, I worship them as gods. Each artistic craft has its own skill-set and they can’t be fairly compared, but people to tend to understand how difficult drawing/painting is because we’ve all been forced to attempt it at one time or another; however, people rarely grasp just how difficult it can be to write a good story because they got A’s on their ‘My Summer Holidays’ essays in primary school. So, one last thing to keep in mind is this: artists have an abundance of tools and mediums at their disposal, and they can try their hand at each until they find one that suits them; writers only have words and must build worlds with them.

Thank you for reading! This is my first proper post like this, so I’m pretty nervous and a Libra, so I’d appreciate praise and validation. But! If you have any more questions about this post or suggestions for future posts, please shoot me an ask! You will not be annoying me - I wouldn’t have made this blog if I didn’t wanna help other writers - and there are no stupid questions!

#writing #writing advice #writing tips #writing help #writeblr #syubvice

22 notes · View notes

gemennair · 5 years

Note

Good morning!! I had question for you. As an artist with depression I often struggle with feeling excited and motivated to draw. Do you have any tips on how to stay enthusiastic about drawing? ❤️

Oh that's a very hard question cause you and me both, op. Regaining enthusiasm and excitement about anything is incredibly difficult especially if your mind is riddled with doubt, self-loathing and worst of all, by my experience, emptiness. It depends on the person, but I will try my best and tell you the things that worked for me that I hope will be able to help you regain your passion and enthusiasm for making art.

First, I want you to remember that drawing or making art is always about expressing yourself, learning to come into terms with who you are, learning to make that part of you shine upon the canvas. Art is not against you, it's with you, even if it doesn't feel that way at times. Treat it like a friend you can go back to when the world is crumbling. Treat it like a nice cup of cold beverage in a particularly hot afternoon, or a warm hearth in the middle of a cold winter. So when you're feeling incredibly sad, incredibly happy, or just a vast gaping feeling of emptiness, just try, try and draw something. Go back to it when you can. You're a creative person, you're an artist, and even if you feel like any creativity is zapped from you, still, draw. Just anything that makes you happy. Or just anything. Remember that you're doing this for yourself first. This can be your way of coping if you want. Maybe you could draw a little tree, a pond with ducks, or anything else. Just draw something for yourself. That's the important thing. Learn to love what you're doing first because you're the first audience of your artwork, and you should appreciate it and be enthusiastic with it no matter what the little voice on your head is telling you. You worked on it. You exerted effort on it. Therefore, no matter what, it has value. You have brought forth something on a blank space, a scribble, a nice little flower. That wasn't there before. Now it exists because of you. Isn't that wonderful? Try and remind yourself of this after drawing even if you're dissatisfied with the final result.

Art, for me, for a while back then has been my way of escape. Drawing things and conceptualizing them gives my mind a lot to think about to the point that it has no room for any other sort of thoughts, including negative ones. Usually, all the negativity comes after. But when I'm drawing, usually, i'm just there, not particularly enjoying it in the bad times, but very enthusiastic about it during the happy times. But making art is still there. It's just like your favorite book that you can go back to when all else has gone to dissarray.

In the subject of depression, it gets more complicated, I think. Since you lose passion for everything, and you may require outside things to help you regain that passion again. This also applies to artblock too. And when you find yourself not having the energy to draw, even if you want to, even if you're forcing yourself to, let yourself walk around and take a break. That's okay. Breaks are important, too. Maybe around this time, Art is your friend, but it also may feel like a childhood friend you drifted away from, and you need other factors too to help you interact with it again. So, listen to music, watch a movie, hang out with friends, empty your thoughts and have some time for yourself. Trust me when I say that eventually, you'll feel the urge to make art again, even after a long while. Maybe it's going to be a show which you loved so much that made you want to draw again, made you want to go back to that friend and talk to him or her bout it, and in this case, that friend is Art. Inspiration and motivation comes in all forms, sometimes you need to be the one to find it so that you'll get it, other times, it instead finds you. It's fickle like that, and it gets troublesome, but the important thing is you're still making art, or you will eventually make art. Do this all in your own pace. Don't feel pressured by other people around you who are producing art everyday.

This is where comparisons come in. Each one of us has something to offer since each one of us is a unique individual. You have something to offer just as much as the artist you're looking up to; you have your ideas that you want to share to the world, and they have theirs. When you find yourself feeling inferior, or feeling like you could never improve, take a step back and remind yourself of the fact that what you're doing has value, too, like I said earlier. Art takes time, improvement takes time, and do your best to stop yourself from comparing your works negatively from other artists' works. Doing that will lessen your enthusiasm because you'll find yourself thinking, "What else can I offer when other people has such amazing works like these?" No, darling, stop. Breath, take a step back, remind yourself: you have something to offer. Your work has value. Don't compare yourself to other people who has already gone far ahead. You're on your own road, do it on your own pace. Be kinder to yourself.

Now, for more technical things, you should also work hard to keep yourself inspired. You found that you like drawing a lot more now, you also found something that will help you keep drawing, now you need to keep going. Gather a collection of things that inspire you. That youtube video or a particular show that made you well up in tears? Bookmark it. Heard a speech that made you feel like you want to achieve something? Put it on your notes. Heard a song or a whole playlist that you can imagine drawing something for? Save it on your phone. It's the little things that help. I swear, it's really the little things that you can go back to. It doesn't even need to be connected to drawing. Just things that inspire you or make you happy. Your creative and artistic side will follow up upon that later. Jot down your ideas that pops up on your mind, and draw them for later. Great ideas usually pop up when you least expect it. Encourage yourself to try and draw every other day, or thrice a week, depending on how long you take to draw. People say that you should draw everyday to improve better, but I found it doesn't really work for me because the burnout gets here faster. My hands can't keep up with the influx of ideas, so I get frustrated. If it's the same for you, take your time to rest. Maybe the drawing-everyday may help you more than it did me. Try it out; experiment a lot. Remember, you're doing this to encourage yourself to draw more but don't push it to an extent that you'll find yourself burnt out. You're only starting out, and I'm the same too, maybe someday I could do the everyday drawings, but not now. Every little step counts, but do it on your own pace.

And lastly, when everything is said and done, when you're ready to post your artwork, or actually not even post it and you just want to see what you have created, pat yourself on the back. Know that someone somewhere will appreciate it as much as you did, because it's true. You may not think so now, but I can tell you that it is true. Also, look at it as a learning process. What about this particular piece that made you happy, what part of it bothers you? Use the answers you conjured for your next artwork. Every artwork is a step forward on making a better one. Remind yourself of that whenever you feel dissatisfied. And if you're comfortable, ask for help or criticism from others, too. Show your work to the world, be proud of it. You did this, and you created something that wasn't there before.

It's different for everyone, but I do hope you found something here that may help you. I want to thank everyone around here too because they made me learn a lot of things and to also be kinder to myself. And I want to tell all of that back to you too. I hope you regain your passion, and i'm looking forward to see your works. I may not know which one it's going to be, but I know that behind every artist, there's someone behind the screen like you, too. And I appreciate each one of your efforts and the love you put into creating, and how happy I am that one more artist in the world is doing their best to make it a better place with their art.

I'll end this with a suggestion for you; whenever I'm feeling exceptionally down in the dumps, I read Neil Gaiman's Make Good Art speech. If you haven't read or listened to it, please try and do so. It's an incredible speech and I always feel like I want to create everytime I read it. I hope it will inspire you too. All the best of wishes to you, anon. ❤

#ask #i wanted to take my time with this to answer better i'm sorry for the delay #i can really relate a lot to you anon #im sorry this got a bit long aaaa #im ssorry too im on mobile idk how to put it under read more 😭😭#sorry for ur dashboards

83 notes · View notes

shnowbilicat · 5 years

Photo

She’s Back!

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

Socsi was just a normal, everyday fox when she was a kid. But one day there was a special broadcast on TV about our Blue Blur Sonic. Socsi was intrigued and watched the program with wonder. They showed his horic deeds, hitting Eggman's evil plans back, saving the world multiple times and meeting new friends like Tails, Knuckles and Amy.

That day Socsi wanted to be like Sonic; brave, courageous, helping people no matter what circumstance and make new friends on the way. A real Hero. The small fox ran to her mother and asked her to style her fur the way they look like Sonic's quills. Over the course of her life Socsi started to train with her father and her best friend Ivlet, a wolf mobian with alot of potential in magic. He tought her everything he knew about combat and soon Socsi was wielding a sword and she also found her talent in Electricity and Ice magic.

Years past and Socsi decided it was time to leave her home and seek adventure. Before she went off though her parents gave her a magical crystal that not only enhaces her magic, but also allows her to summon wings to fly and store her sword in a small pocket dimension if not in use.

With that Socsi and Ivlet left their village behind and they would soon be part of Sonic's little Team of Heroes.

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

And I swear she'll stay for longer! Now that the Sonic Movie kinda pushed me to draw my fav OC again :'3

And as you could already see, I redesigned her! Well, slightly redesigned her. Socsi is officially a fully on fox and she got a pair of boots instead of a replica of Sonic's shoes. She's also way fluffier cuz my artstyle wants moar fluff :'D

I also rewrote her backstory. She didn't have a solid backstory in the first place, but I thought since I'm at it, I'll do a smol reboot too :3

Tbh, I got really inspired by @projectsnt (Her YouTube Channel) and her own OC. It made me think back on my own characters and so I decided that I wanted to redesign some of them.

I also got an already done redesign of Darkness. We'll see if I ever upload him tho X'D

I have to say, I really like how this turned out (Minus the colours, I used my alcohol markers again and they screw me over everytime I use them so yee ... Socsi is still full yellow and red, not orange ... :'D), though the only redesign are her gloves and shoes. She has a really solid design, okay? :'3

It also made me reflect on my old art ... and I have to be honest, I was really good at drawing Sonic characters! I guess an artist is always improving and refining their art, even if they don't focus on improving :3

In any case, I hope to draw more Sonic and more art in general in the next couple of weeks. So yee, hope you enjoy ;3

And as a bonus have some old Socsi art; I really went sum places :’3

Around April 2012, coloured version that never got uploaded; tbh back then I was always way better with traditional art. How things have pretty much turned around now. I suck at traditional and am a monster in digital :’D

October 2015; this and the previous are my most favorite pieces of Socsi I made in the past years. Tbh now looking back to it I dun wanna change my style too much. Socsi is already perfect :’D

#socsi #socsi the fox #sonic the hedgehog #traditional art #art

7 notes · View notes

fantasyresident · 5 years

Text

My Review For Pokemon Sword and Shield (Spoiler-Free)

The road to Sword and Shield could be considered interesting to say the least. Shit hit the fan with everyone’s accusations, complaints, and grievances before the game even came out. Death threats, fake leaks, ridiculous critics, you name it. As a dedicated Pokemon fan, I saw huge potential with Sword and Shield, and I have officially completed Shield just a couple days ago. Reviews from official critics like IGN and Gamespot mainly praise the game giving it scores of 9.3 and 9 respectively. But then others off to the side of these major critics are saying the game “isn’t worth the $60″. I can say after playing the game myself to its completion (plus some) that the game is definitely in my view worth the money. I will break down my opinions of these entries by categories of Mechanics (how well the game works, how much gameplay there is, and how valuable the gameplay aspects are) Story (how good and effective the plot of the game is) Characters (how good the characters within the plot are) Dialogue (how good the writing of the game is) and Visuals (how good the game looks from a visual perspective). Here I go.

Mechanics: (9.1/10)

Sword and Shield is jam-packed with excellent features and gameplay elements to endlessly enjoy. The new Pokemon Camp feature is the best, most interactive way of playing and building your friendship with your Pokemon. The curry cooking is very simple, but it is more interactive then just giving a floating PokePuff or Bean to a Pokemon and having them chew it slowly right in front of you only to give it yet another one until they cannot eat anymore. You can throw a ball to have your Pokemon play fetch with you, speak to your Pokemon, and have them play with the little wand toy. While you cannot pet your Pokemon like in the past, the new features feels so fresh and even just watching your favorite Pokemon interact on their own is a worthy replacement for old systems like Amie and Refresh. Aside from Camping, the Gym Challenge was by far one of the best features. Gyms actually for the first time ever felt like full-fledged Gyms. Each Gym has their own special challenge in the beginning, and each one helped diversify the experience rather than tossing you into a room with randomly arranged trainers and the Gym Leader standing at the end waiting for you to get through the maze. I particularly loved Allister’s Gym Challenge, but every one of the challenges was a fun light-hearted experience. Many nuisances from the game that lingered in the past main titles have been removed, like no longer having to farm heart scales just to experiment with different move sets, having a Pokeball throwing shortcut, having a name rater posted in every Pokemon center, and many other quality of life improvements. The only problem I find with the mechanics of the game is the pop-ins. NPCs (ones that move from place to place), wild Pokemon, and berry trees all have their pop-in moments in the game. As you approach them, they come into view normally from a mid-range distance, and fade away again if you get too far away. This isn’t a huge deal when it comes to the experience as a whole, but it did slightly rob from the otherwise fresh Wild Area experience considering the pop-ins are the worst there. Lagging while online in the Wild Area is also a slight problem, but not too persistent of a problem.

Story: (8.5/10)

The story of Shield very much reminded me of the Pokemon anime in a sense (Swords being no different other than Pokemon variations). The narrative mainly focuses on the lovable and colorful cast of characters rather than a constantly changing dynamic plot. The plot is pretty big (not a Dynamax pun I swear), but it’s mainly told through your trainer character’s perspective, so the secrets of the unfolding plot occur through the perspectives of the adult figures, which you eventually see around the end. It’s not a complex story, but I found it to be very solid, kind of like a Pokemon movie. The characters carry the story along smoothly, and it’s a nice “save the world” Pokemon plot. There’s not a bunch of lore for the region, but what lore is explained is very suitable for the Galar region and I found it to be pretty interesting. I feel like the ending wraps up a little quicker than in usual Pokemon games, but the post-game story helps to finalize things even if it contains two very weird parodical characters. I think the point of the game’s plot is timely (for a reason I cannot elaborate upon for non-spoiler purposes, but to anyone who finishes it, you may know what I mean). I feel like it really connects with a real-world issue that the world is facing currently. Additionally, the story’s presentation was handled very well in most parts, I really liked the mid-battle cutscenes and the scripted battles that remind me of classic RPGs. While I don’t think the plot of Sword and Shield beats the darker dynamic plot of Sun and Moon, it’s good and solid all the same.

Characters: (10/10)

As I briefly mentioned in the story segment of this review, the characters are some of the biggest stars of this game. Each Gym leader stands out and have their own little backstory. These backstories aren’t told through cutscenes, but you can read their biographies on the back of their League cards which I thought was a good way of telling us more information about the Gym Leaders than we got with them in the past titles. Gym Leaders are normally just treated like pretty designs and then thrown away by the post game. Sword and Shield however puts each of them in the spotlight more and they all get some time to shine. The designs for the characters themselves I find to be particularly amazing. Personally, Piers, the long awaited Dark-type Gym Leader was my favorite, but every single one of them had something interesting in store. Aside from Gym Leaders, memorable characters like Marnie, Bede, Sonia and Leon really help liven and enrich the experience. I felt really invested in these characters, and when I feel that invested in the characters of a video game, I consider them a smashing success.

***ADDITIONAL NOTE***

I neglected to mention the most important characters to any Pokemon game: the Pokemon themselves! The designs of the Galar Pokemon and Galar forms are breathtaking. I love the vast majority of them and there’s very few that I think little of. The designs are themed and look very creative, I really loved the art direction for this generation’s Pokedex.

Dialogue: (9/10)

With the new Galar region, inspired off of the UK, the dialogue is bound to change. A lot of British slang is slipped in which was enjoyable even if I wasn’t familiar with some of it. Each character seemed to have their own way of speaking and I liked this individuality in dialogue. Nothing any of the main characters say seems off-putting, so I’d say the dialogue is in a very good place for a Pokemon game. It is a game that’s marketed for younger audiences, but it does a good job of not making you feel like a baby (something that prior titles also done a good job with), so the dialogue is consistently good for any audience. Some lines could be improved perhaps or less generic, but nothing stands out to me as an issue with dialogue, so I’d say the writing is pretty on-spot.

Visuals: (9.4/10)

This is perhaps one of the most controversial parts of these games, with many complaining about reused models, trees looking badly textured, and the game looking like just an “upscaled 3DS game”. While I do agree that the Wild Area trees are terrible-looking upon close inspection, I by no means view this game as just an “upscaled 3DS game”. The visuals of Sword and Shield are by far the greatest the series has to offer, with town areas and dungeons looking absolutely superb. Some critics think that the graphics need a dynamic change, but I couldn’t disagree more. Graphics are a subjective thing until you’re delaing with something like the textures of the game (like the trees.) If fans don’t like the Pokemon style, they shouldn’t be playing the games anymore. Sword and Shield mastered the style the franchise should have with the very interesting, beautifully rendered areas like the Glimwood Tangle and Ballonlea. I found these areas and others to be breathtaking upon first seeing them and I just really adored the look of these games. As for the character models, (the people and the Pokemon) they look just fine. They’re not the biggest upgrade, but they fit in well with the rest of the game’s style, so no problems in that department. If you are to find graphical flaws that aren’t only subjective, they can be found in the Wild Area. The trees and some ground textures (near water in particular) are a bit blurred and wonky. But then you gaze upon the surroundings as a whole and it looks quite nice. The lighting looks incredible in many areas, and I just found myself in awe of just about anything I was looking at. As for the animations, there are some new incredible animations (like Cinderace’s Pyro Ball) and many well-polished animations. There are however some of the same-old animations that didn’t work and still don’t work like double kick and tail whip. Overall, the visuals are extremely nice and just what I’d expect from a next-gen Pokemon game.

My Verdict:

Pokemon Sword and Shield was an exciting new adventure that brought me back to the old days of playing Pokemon, only without all the nuisance problems that once plagued the fun of the experience. This game reminded me of what it was like to wholeheartedly enjoy a new adventure with new lovable partners. The graphics and mechanics are beyond refreshing, even if some areas could be better polished. The narrative isn’t as wide as Gen 7′s, but it’s as solid as I’d expect a Pokemon story to get while not straying too far from the roots of what makes them good to begin with. At the end of the day, experiencing Galar was without a doubt worth the $60 price tag, and the memories gained from the experience is even more priceless.

Final Score: 9.2/10 👍

21 notes · View notes

theclosetpoet7 · 5 years

Text

Reunion in the Slums

A CloTi fic by theClosetPoet7

Rating: MA, So, do you guys want a little smut? With some angst? Okay. This one takes place before my fic "The Honeybee Inn". This is kinda more lengthy than my other one-shots. A scene here was inspired by the amazing hugo-the-starving-artist , whose art really just blew my mind. The title of his work is "Privacy", a part of his Midgar series.

Summary: She stops the sob from coming out of her pink lips. She almost missed him. Almost passed him by. Almost left him there to nod his days away. 'Cloud, what happened to you?' [Prequel to the Original Game]

She nearly stumbles when she kicks the door open. Carefully, she drags his body into the pristine floors of Seventh Heaven, muddied boots leaving scuffled marks onto her recently mopped deck, dark splotches painting the wooden panel. She doesn't care though, and with bated breath, she adjusts her hold on him while carrying the enormous sword she swears belonged to a man she hasn't seen in a while.

She wonders if he knows about what happened to their hometown, wonders if he now saw Shinra as the enemy like she does and maybe that is why she found him at that train station, with clotted blood disguising his blond hair, rendering him unrecognizable.

She stops the sob from coming out of her pink lips. She almost missed him. Almost left him there to nod his days away.

What if she didn't come closer to further examine him? What if she just went about her own way; hurrying to Sector 7's Market because she had run out of eggs? Or worse, what if someone else found him? Decided to mess with the crazy boy slumped over by the steps? Midgar has no shortage of thugs; evil men and women alike, looking to take advantage of defenseless people.

Cloud.

How is he here? Seven years after she last saw him.

A flash of the shy yet determined boy who promised her he'd make it into SOLDIER passes through her thoughts, and she swallows her emotions, putting herself on high alert. The instinct to heal him overcoming any form of reminiscing. She leans the large sword on the wall before she turns the knob to her own room. Then, she lowers Cloud onto her bed, not caring about the fact that he's dirtying her sheets.

"Hgghn, Tifa."

He had come to his senses when he had seen her.

"Tifa?"

"Tifa!"

He said strange things; told her that it's been five years when she remembers not seeing him for seven. Then again, it's not like she can trust herself either. Waking up in Midgar all those years ago, being told that Nibelheim was no more, Tifa had felt lost and confused.

It had taken some time for those memories to come flooding in.

Sephiroth at Mt. Nibel.

Zack following in.

Her chest hurting...

Hurting a lot.

He's still out of it, unconscious after falling to his knees on their way back to the bar, catching her off guard as he held his head between his shaking hands, groaning and murmuring indistinguishable words until he nearly toppled over only for her to catch him.

'Cloud, what happened to you?'

The floor is dampened by the droplets of water falling from the tub of tap she's brought over to place on the table next to her bed. Cloud is still asleep, whimpers coming out of his mouth. He smelled of blood and dirt. Tifa scrunches her nose as she dips the cloth on the water mixed with her bath soap and carefully wipes the grime off his face. She cleans up the blood first, to make sure that it isn't his own; and, because the iron scent always made her think of her father's. A memory which served to only remind her that she had once been too late. Not this time though.

She found him.

Just in time.

There is some sense of relief when she concludes that the blood isn't Cloud's. And, as she examines his head for any scratches, she sees that he isn't at the very least, in any danger of losing his life.

She focuses her attention on his sleeveless shirt.

Tifa recognizes the uniform, it was one members of SOLDIER wore, she remembers how Zack Fair had donned it with pride, his charming smile marveling at their town's landscape as she showed them around. She shakes her head at the thought, the renewed hatred she had for Shinra pumping even more resentment into her whole person.

She hates them. Hates them with her entire being.

Tifa shakes her head again, to direct her focus instead on the man in front of her. She needs to see if he's injured underneath that shirt of his. She gulps, trying to ignore her girlish shyness from overpowering the sense to do what is necessary. Sure she's always held favor for Cloud Strife, ever since that promise, she couldn't stop thinking about him. Tifa holds her breath, hands shaking when she's about to tug his zipper down.

His hand suddenly stops her.

"Tifa..."

"Cloud."

"Where am I?"

His voice sounded different, deeper than the one she remembers. He pushes himself up, grimacing when the change in position leaves him dazed and nauseated.

"You're at my bar, Seventh Heaven."

"Seventh Heaven."

"At Midgar."

"Midgar."

He's absentmindedly repeating her words, as if he's chasing after reality while whatever is giving him headaches obscures his other senses. He looks like he's about to slip away again. So, she puts her hand over his, shifting his attention to her.

"You're safe."

There's a look in his eyes, a peculiar color she notes, because she could swear that he had deeper blue. On that night. Even so, she shakes the doubt off her mind. This is Cloud Strife here. She knows as much. He's alive and in front of her.

After all these years.

The barmaid grips the washcloth hard to stop herself from wrapping her arms around him, lest she ends up making things uncomfortable.

When she guides him to the bathroom though, and tells him to leave his shattered clothes on the floor, Tifa leans her back against the bathroom's door, the sound of the shower relaxing her senses at the realization that she's been reunited with a precious person from her past.

Not just any person.

Her first love.

___________________________

It takes some convincing before Barret accepts Cloud into the group. And with his past exploits as an ex-SOLDIER, Tifa couldn't blame their leader. They are after all fighting the very company that her friend used to work for. She puts her foot down and raises the fact that she's the one who owns Seventh Heaven. And accepted or not, Cloud is going to stay with them.

She supposes that her insistence has managed to convince the other man. With the way he curses under his breath though, Tifa can tell that he still isn't completely fine with Cloud being here. So with a huff, she takes off, leaving the other members stunned at her strong words, probably not used to seeing this side of her. Biggs has this look of disappointment in his eyes while Jessie and Wedge merely give her an awkward smile as she storms off to her room to check on her friend. Thankfully, Marlene is already asleep.

She doesn't know why she's letting her temper get the best of her. Maybe it is because she didn't like the way they painted Cloud in such a bad light, when they've never even met him. They don't know the boy whose dreams had stirred the beatings of her heart, don't know the timid smile he gave her when she arrived at that water tower, don't know the way he reminded her of better times, when all she cared about was for him to come home.

Except that...There's no home to come home to.

Not anymore.

He immediately straightens his back when she opens the door to her room, probably eavesdropping on her earlier conversation. Cloud is still shirtless, wearing a black pair of pants which she had asked Biggs to let him borrow. He looks like he's been caught red-handed, although he has that confident aura about him, one that she still can't place with the boy she once knew.

"Maybe it isn't such a good idea for me to stay, Tifa."

She shakes her head at this, casually tossing his clothes into the washtub with powdered detergent.

"I want you to."

He seemed a bit hesitant in her claim. Already, she remembers the way he'd watch her and her friends from afar, like he had been wanting to join in the fun. However, as quickly as that expression appears, Cloud replaces it with a smirk on his face, a bit uncharacteristic of him, yet provides her with some ease nonetheless.

"If you say so."

She answers him with a smile, and takes off her boots while she pulls her thigh highs along with them, already in her sports bra. Tifa notices the way he averts his eyes, veering off from her state of undress. She's used to wearing her current outfit when she's training, so really isn't conscious of the fact. The brunette sits on her bed, the squeak of the old springs filling the room as she prepares to do the laundry. Then, she walks towards the other side of her quarters. Cloud makes a move to stop her when she hunches over the small tub, indicating that he should be the one to wash his own clothes. However, she tells him to sit.

He needed to rest.

And while she's cleaning off the remaining blood on his cotton uniform, she couldn't help but realize how mundane it all seems. He's cross-legged a few feet away from her while she scrubs away, a look on his face that honestly intimidates her a little and awakens the butterflies in her belly at the same time, her slumbering feelings nudged awake at the sight of him.

She tries to fight the feeling of self-consciousness as he fixates his gaze on her, tries to stop herself from asking more about what happened since he left. There's time for that later. Besides, she's just grateful that he's here.

With her.

___________________________

He's improving day by day.

A week into having Cloud live with her, Tifa notices that he's already becoming restless. One day, he comes out to watch her spar with Biggs. There's an astonished look in his eyes, like he's surprised to see that she's as skilled as she is. At first, she finds this pride within herself to let him see that she didn't need to be saved anymore, like she had been when she was thirteen. At the same time, a part of her still wants him to come to her rescue, to take her away from all this death around her.

She knows though, that it's merely a fantasy, one she shouldn't hold on to. Especially because she isn't so sure about what he remembers.

Sometimes, he stares at her like he's trying to find something. And sometimes, he looks at her with suspicion, even though he thinks he isn't being obvious. She can see it alright. He has his doubts. The same way she has hers. Even so, it is a rare occasion, and one she doesn't dwell on.

Biggs almost lands a punch on her face only to abruptly stop himself before he can make contact. She is left stunned because this has never happened before. She's never been caught off guard. Well, it isn't everyday when your childhood crush makes an appearance and watches you train. The way Biggs looks at her held some understanding in them, and she knows that he has deduced correctly. She did tell him about it.

"How is it that someone like you is still single?"

"I dunno, maybe I'm still waiting on my hero to come save me."

She still feels a little guilty about rejecting him. And it wasn't like she didn't try. She had said yes to a date with him. Although the night didn't end well when she had to stop him from stealing her first kiss. She'd nearly given in, however, as she stared at his brown eyes, she couldn't help but want to drown in blue ones instead.

Biggs steps away and bows towards her, a signal that their spar is over. He doesn't say anything when he turns his back and proceeds to go inside while playfully crooning that she owes him a drink, leaving her and her childhood friend alone.

Cloud pushes himself off the wall and walks to her, that look of intrigue in his eyes.

"I don't remember you being a fighter, Teef."

He's taken to calling her that way, a sign that he's beginning to feel comfortable around her, even when they still held each other with cautious regard. A step forward if she must say.

"I couldn't just sit by and wait for my hero."

She isn't able to stop the words from spilling out of her mouth. In an instant, the friendly atmosphere shifts. Cloud stares at her and Tifa tries, tries hard to find any semblance of recognition there, if he remembers their promise.

But it looks like he doesn't.

The very fact dampens her mood and consumes her thoughts the rest of the night.

___________________________

The first time Barret finally allows Cloud to join in a mission, Tifa worries. Already, she's telling their leader that she definitely isn't staying behind. Despite that, Barret glances at her with a serious look in his eyes and strictly informs her that he wants her to stay with Marlene.

Tifa bites into her lower lip to stop herself from saying anything rash. Barret was right anyway, if there was someone who could watch over Marlene closely, it was her. The implication of the order has her nervous, because it meant that the mission this time is more dangerous than the past ones.

Why else would Barret want to make sure that someone can take care of Marlene?

Cloud just watches as they discuss the details, his sword strapped to his back while he crosses his arms in front of him and leans against the wall, the side furthest from the rest of the team. He nods his head as Jessie lays out the blueprints to the Mako Reactor they're attacking the day after, and he offers some information about the military grunts' usual formation and battle strategy. These contributions make Tifa eye Barret, silently challenging him to say that Cloud shouldn't be trusted.

Seriously, he's been staying with them for a month now. Occasionally, he'd take over Barret or Bigg's place, acting as a bouncer once in a while. He'd also make himself useful around the bar too. Would even assist Wedge as he fixed the lights, or run errands for Jessie to secure certain mechanical equipment for whatever she's building in that workshop of hers.

Tifa doesn't miss the way the red-head's whole demeanor would light up once he's in the room. A fact she actually finds cute considering that not too long ago, Jessie had been putting the moves on her.

Cloud had slowly wormed his way into the team. So, it frustrated her when Barret would give him that look of distrust.

Perhaps it is his papa bear instincts coming out? He had been treating her like a daughter, had been protective of her. Maybe he disapproves of the fact that Cloud has been sleeping in her room?

Still though, Cloud doesn't deserve this.

Later on that night, she takes Barret aside.

"You have to stop treating him with such animosity."

The gun wielder releases a grunt.

"You can't expect me to trust a member of Shinra."

"I don't. I expect you to trust Cloud."

"Tifa..."

"I know him. I know his heart. He isn't the kind of person you think he is. Cloud is a good man." The emotion in her eyes must have shown because the warrior she has come to trust with her life remains silent, quietly studying her.

"You can't let your feelings hinder your judgment, Tifa."

"I'm not. Please. Give him a chance."

Barret tries.

___________________________

"You really should stop trying to defend me."

The rest of AVALANCHE have already retreated to their quarters. And, since she wouldn't be going on the mission, Tifa opens the bar an extra hour to secure their upcoming expenses. Surely, they will be needing more funds for equipment after the next bombing. For some reason, Cloud lingers behind, even though she tells him to go rest. It's sweet actually, and she would be lying if she said that she wasn't happy that he was willing to stay up with her.

"And why is that?"

He's sporting the glass of scotch she's poured while she wipes the counter top and sprays some bleach over it.

"If they don't want me to join, then I can find work elsewhere. I may have overstayed my welcome."

Again with this. It hurts her whenever he talks about going away. As if she didn't matter to him as much as he mattered to her. Like their reunion didn't hold any meaning.

He had called her to that water tower years before right?

They were friends, right?

She chews on her lips while she breathes in deeply to calm her distress. Already, the prospect of him suddenly leaving had her heart torn to shreds.

"You're really leaving? You're really going to leave your childhood friend?"

She gulps, she had said too much this time, sounded like a jilted lover, feeling bitter that he's even thought about abandoning her.

Didn't she matter at all?

Tifa's eyes widen.

He suddenly has her pinned between the bar and his own hard body. She pauses, fingers still wrapped around the washcloth she's been using to dry the glasses, the skin on her nape heated with careful anticipation while she waits for him to say something. His arms are caging her in, gloved clad hands gripping the table.

"Cloud?"

"I..."

He's hesitating, that cocky aura replaced by one that reminded her too much of the boy she was neighbors with.

"I don't think I want to be just your friend."

The confession comes out in a huff, fanning her hair while he waits for her response and leans his head to the back of hers, making her feel numb, or perhaps she was feeling too much, the implication of what he had said awakening her desire not only to reciprocate his advances but to do something more. To give in to her girlish fantasies of that young man coming home to her, to ask her father's permission for her hand in marriage, and for them to seal their promise with a ring. Her own personal happily ever after.

Except that, life is just full of tragedies, so full of unfulfilled dreams.

He didn't come back.

Her father is dead.

And, she has too many scars for someone to want to marry her.

Still though, when she places the items she's been holding and turns her body to his, the barmaid doesn't stop herself from lifting a hand to brush his hair out of his face. So she could see that boy again.

See this man.

His eyes are not the ocean blue she had remembered, with greenish specks and a roguish glow to them, she traces her fingers down to his cheek, carefully examining that look in his orbs.

When he suddenly puts his hand over hers, turning it over so he could kiss the inside of her wrist, Tifa tries not to let her knees buckle.

Cloud is looking at her with intense heat, his tongue coming out to lick the skin where his lips had been, never breaking their eye contact. The brunette moistens her lips, and it is all the permission he needs before he takes hold of her chin and tilts it to him, pressing his mouth to hers in an action full of want and need.

She doesn't even think to stop him.

He brushes her lips with his; gently at first, then with an eagerness she couldn't help but return with equal fervor when she opens her mouth to his tongue's intrusion, gasping when his hands find purchase of her waist and pull her more tightly against him.

It starts to get to be too much and when they separate to take in the much needed oxygen, Cloud leans his forehead on hers, the smell of scotch teasing her senses as she closes her eyes to rest her hands on his shoulders, breathing deeply, to calm her pounding heart.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that."

She giggles lightly.

"Me too, since the water tower."

The way his body stiffens is not one she could miss, the hold he has on her slackens and Tifa's heart aches when he pulls away and looks at her with confusion.

"What do you mean?"

The question shatters any form of hope she has for that dream of hers to come true. Does he really not remember? She'd always questioned his memories of that night five years ago, when their village had burned down to the ground. He had remembered things that he shouldn't have and now she sees proof that he's also forgotten things that he should.

The realization hurts her heart, crumples it like a discarded sheet of paper until what was once beating as fast as it could out of excitement, is only dead now.

Pulseless

and unmoving.

Maybe she should remind him of that promise, maybe she should question why he's placing himself in the last days of Nibelheim when she doesn't remember seeing him at all. She nearly opens her mouth to tell him, but suddenly recalls how he'd put his hands over his head and scream, scaring her to the point that she fears that she'll lose him altogether if he undergoes one of those attacks again.

So instead, she keeps her mouth shut, and shakes her head in defeat to say that she didn't mean anything by it.

She doesn't miss the way his eyes glowed as he watched her leave him after that.

___________________________

He comes and goes sometimes; disappearing for a few hours without telling her where he's going, rousing that feeling of worry before she shakes it off, and reminds herself that he will return.

He has to.

When he comes back with an air of triumph on his face, carrying a few more items for their mission and occasionally bringing back a tropical fruit he's haggled out of a wandering merchant, Tifa would let out a sigh of relief, lips tilted up as she watches the rest of AVALANCHE get excited over what he's brought, her heart skipping a beat when he glances at her and smirks.

Barret has even taken a liking to Cloud when one day he comes home with a flower in his hand and gives it to Marlene, quite a charming move which only led to the four-year old associating him with the prince in her bedtime story books. And her, the princess.

Except that she isn't a princess, and he isn't a prince.

On some days, he flirts with other ladies, that confident exterior of his showing through. And by flirting, she means that he rewards them with his smirks as well, perhaps to get more tips. Or, something else. It was obvious how much the number of female patrons have increased since Cloud arrived. Jessie jokes about this incidence while puffing her cheeks, a tint of jealousy over her features.

Tifa would offer her ear as the young mechanic goes on and on about how forward some women were, agreeing with the red-head though still trying to appear apathetic about it. They haven't defined what they were yet, except two adults messing around once in a while.

One night, she sees a dark haired beauty lean in and whisper seductively in Cloud's ear, the curve of her red lips forming into a suggestive smile while she runs a hand over his bicep, eyeing him with her womanly charm. The mercenary had stiffened and looked dazed for the remainder of the night while he held on to the napkin with the woman's number in it.

During times like this, Tifa feels a renewed feeling of discontent, a hint of bitterness in her person when she too flirts with her customers. It comes with the job description. Every time she realizes the fact that she's treading into dangerous emotions, the martial artist stops, berating herself of the fact that what she is doing is immature and so unlike her nature.

She would be lying though, if she denies the fact that she just loves it when Cloud clenches his fist when she lets another man's touch linger a second too long, and she loves it when his eyes would follow her throughout the night, lightly giggling when he would click his tongue as she gives her smiles to someone else.

When Jessie notices the tension, she drunkenly proposes that she would love to have a threesome with her and Cloud. The barmaid laughs it off but could not miss the way her friend had meant every word she said. Jessie had developed feelings for Cloud. It wasn't surprising, considering how handsome he really was, with his intense eyes and his Adonis form, stirring something within her, making her think about how absolutely delightful it would be to have her body pressed against his hard physique. For him to show her what it was like to be a man and a woman.

He would catch her staring, only to look away with that smug expression of his. And she notices when he awkwardly adjusts his gauntlets or runs a hand through his hair, seemingly aware of the fact that she's still keeping her eyes on him.

His lips would find hers during closing hours, a touch of longing in them, hands heating her up with the temptation to cross the lines of their friendship. And with her legs around him while he lifts her onto the bar's counter, and her fingers tangled in his smooth locks, Tifa wishes that he'd take the initiative to move things further.

Especially when she feels his desire for her.

___________________________

She's in love with him.

This much Tifa knows.

Of course, maybe she has always been in love with him. He was the reason why she could never find chemistry with anyone else, the reason why she never went out on a second date. Because, she couldn't help but compare all of them to Cloud Strife.

And she knows that he wants her. Maybe not in the way she wants him. Notwithstanding, the attention still flutters those butterflies again.

Tonight, she pours him his third drink while she works on her second glass; scarlet eyes boring into his blue ones, silently telling him what she has been thinking of ever since he first joined AVALANCHE.

Her face must have mirrored her desire because her childhood friend had suddenly leaned in to claim her pink lips.

Since the first time he's kissed her, Cloud has become more forward, more honest with his intent. And his intent was to fuck her. He tells her. With his hand on her thigh and his tongue in her mouth, Cloud pulls away to tell her that he wants to do more.

"Can I? Tifa?"

Maybe she should've said no. They are playing with fire, blurring the lines of their friendship, advancing past the threshold into something that can potentially destroy the bond they have rebuilt over the course of his stay. But she loves him. And she wants him as well.

Gaia, she wants him.

So, with alcohol flowing through their system, flushing out the nerves and only heating up their bodies, making them crave for human touch, making them crave for each other, Tifa leads him to their shared quarters.

When she closes the door to her room, Cloud's hands pull her back to him, mouth crashing to hers as he closes their distance. She accepts his aggressive approach, basks in his forwardness while wondering if he's had this experience before, if that is where his confidence stems from; taking the lead without hesitation. A stark contrast to how she is currently feeling.

The thought of him with another woman, perhaps that beauty the other night, stirs a feeling of envy in her that Tifa couldn't stop herself from deepening their kiss, her tongue pushing past his lips to tangle with his, feeling a sense of boldness she can't quite comprehend, except that she wants him to know that he's hers.

Tifa gasps when his hand suddenly touches her breast, moaning at the way he rotates it in a clockwise motion while he watches her with his eyes. It is a sight so raunchy, that it manages to make her wet with anticipation. The thought of what they are about to do, already making her moist with want. He pulls away to cross his arms and tug his shirt off, rewarding her with the sight of his sculpted form.

She's seen his body before, they had gotten into the habit of washing clothes together. But to see him again, his chest taut and his abdomen defined by the lines of his muscles, with the intent to have her beneath him, Tifa feels her mouth dry at the sight.

To keep her hands from running over his rugged form, she settles with snapping the ends of her suspenders off, carefully sliding the straps one by one. She doesn't miss the way Cloud's eyes glinted in the moonlight as she does this. And she could see it. The fact that his pants looked more strained against his crotch.

With this sense of rare daring in her, Tifa meets his eyes and maintains the contact while she takes off her boots and then her white shirt. He stands four feet away from her, like he's enjoying the sight of her stripping in front of him. The barmaid tries to swallow her shy instinct, womanly aches encouraging her to continue, especially when he's looking at her like that. She's about to take off her skirt when Cloud puts his hands over hers, effectively stopping her.

"Keep them on."

It takes all of her to not fall on her knees then, his touch, albeit rough yet hesitant at the same time, tease her incessantly, he starts by running his hands over her waist, one hand palming the flat of her stomach while he ascends to cup one breast, thumb brushing over a nipple which allows a spark of electricity to pass through her body and onto her core.

"Cloud."

He takes hold of the small of her back and pulls her close to his hips, taking one thigh and holding it against him.

"Wrap them around me."

He whispers into her ear. Tifa wastes no time in wrapping her legs around his hips, mind already lost to the desire to have a man inside her, to have him inside her for the first time in her life.

Cloud drops her onto her twin-sized bed, lips already finding their way back to her neck, biting lightly and then sucking; effectively marking her as his even though she always has been. His strong body encompasses hers as he places both his hands on either side of her head while he holds himself up and watches her. Tifa averts her eyes when he runs a hand over her breast again, only to huff in disappointment when he merely glances over them, following a path down her stomach...

Her breath hitches, because suddenly he's palming her through her panties, her skirt lifted off her while he spreads her to his attentions.

He plants another kiss on her clavicle while he follows the trail his hands left heated in their wake, pleasing her with his tongue here and there until he's before her core. It is then when he looks up at her, silently asking for permission.

In answer, Tifa spreads her legs wider and lifts her hips up when he hooks his fingers at the hem of her panties and pulls them down, kissing the inside of her thigh while he sheds the last barrier between him and her maidenhood.

She arches her back when his fingers brush over her damp center. The feeling foreign yet sensuously good. His eyes held that sense of wonder in them, and he watches her features while he continues to brush two of his digits over her moist heat.

"Does it feel good?"

She never would've pegged him for a talkative lover. That being said, it's not like she has anyone else to compare him with.

"Teef?"

He touches her deeper, thumb parting one fold while his fingers continue that back and forth motion, teasing her every now and then. When he touches that part of her she's always tended to on her own, spreading her wetness over that bundle of nerves, Tifa gasps. And he asks her again.

"Good?"

She could only nod in reply.

He leans over her, pressing open mouthed kisses against her neck while he continues to caress her with indecent intent. Maybe it is because she's beginning to feel herself crest into something she couldn't define, or maybe it is because she's just as overwhelmed by the fact that it's Cloud she's doing this with, Tifa couldn't help but moan wantonly at the ex-Soldier's ministrations, and she couldn't help but claw at his back while he flicks her clit gently at first, and then with purpose, letting her reach the point of no return. When she feels like she's about to come undone, he pulls away, that teasing spark still in his eyes.

"Cloud, wha-?"

He swallows her words with a kiss, indulging her in another round of their tongues sliding against each other, mixing their saliva, the taste of scotch still hot in his mouth while he unzips his pants and lowers it down. She cups him through his boxers, her cheeks warming at the feel of his hardened shaft, stiff with want, ready to drive deep within her virgin sheath, already wet with pre-cum at the tip.

Cloud hisses when she strokes him through his shorts, burying his head in the space between her neck and shoulder while he instinctively moves his hips to her hand, seducing her with his thrusts, giving her a preview of what is to come. He grabs her hand that had been touching him lewdly and pins it to the side of her head, eyeing her with such intensity that there was nothing else to do but lean up to meet his lips again, pulling his body to hers while she lets him settle himself between her legs.

"I can't wait anymore." He's humping into her moist heat, his underwear the only thing keeping them from coming together.

"Then don't. Cloud, I want you."

It feels like a confession, even though it isn't. They're just two adults, having consensual sex. Letting their bodies take control of anything else. Caution thrown out to the wind for one night of passion.

She helps him with his pants, along with his navy blue boxers, while he helps her take her sports bra off and discards her skirt along with it, so he could finally take a taut nipple into his mouth. The feel of his cock nestled between her thighs gives her a sense of unease at first. When he touches her with his fingers again though, Tifa wishes for him to just fuck her already.

So she can finally give herself to him.

And he could give himself to her.

"Have you done this before?"

The question had always lingered at the back of her mind since she's closed the door to her room.

"I don't know. Maybe?"

The admission nearly causes her to retreat in disappointment, then again, how could she fault him for that? Surely a virile man such as Cloud would have catered to his sexual appetites during his many travels? Of course, who wouldn't want him? Still, a part of her wants to know who it was. Who was lucky enough to have charmed Cloud Strife into her bed?

Her jealous thoughts are cut off when he shifts her attention to him, telling her with his eyes that it isn't what she thinks, and this isn't some meaningless fuck. That their past means something to him too.

"I don't remember with whom. I don't know why, somehow, I know my way around a woman's body."

The sentence sounded cocky at best but the way his eyes yet again held that wonder in them, Tifa questions if it bothered him as much as it bothered her. If he's trying to chase after that thing in his head that she can't quite see.

"Cloud, where are you?"

She helps him shake away the fog of his intrusive thoughts, hand coming up to catch his cheek as a form of comfort. The action makes his eyes clear, and there's a tint of tenderness there, a gentle look full of meaning when he says;

"In Seventh Heaven. In Midgar."

He leans down to kiss her once more, while he showers her with other pleasurable sensations as he grabs hold of his hardened member and guides it into her warmth. Taking a sharp intake of breath when the head of his cock makes contact with her moist sheath. He inserts an inch or two, but she gasps at the sharp pain that slashes through her when he stretches her in a way that she hasn't been stretched before.

She notices that he looks a bit perplexed at the fact that she had just given her virginity to him, yet doubt is quickly replaced with determination when he puts a finger in his mouth and lubricates it with his saliva, carefully flicking her clit as he eases into her.

Inch.

by.

delicious.

Inch.

"Cloud."

His name is the only thing she can gasp out, and when she has him buried deep within her, the feel of him blowing her mind, Tifa envelopes him in her arms and clenches her legs around him as she hesitantly tells him to start moving.

It is an uncomfortable feeling at first, granted that he seemed bigger than what she expected. He's as gentle as she's always dreamed of, slowly sliding out, only to push back in while he holds himself back. The way he clenches his jaw and the way he calms his breathing, shows her just how much he's preventing himself from being too rough with her. It makes her heart swell; the fact that he's treating her with such care.

When the pain has eased and what was sharp before only becomes aching, Tifa begins to adjust to his girth, and she begins to feel the pleasure he had already invoked within her just moments ago.

It is then when she tells him that he needn't hold back. She was a strong girl; and she wanted him to show her. Show her what it was like to fuck. Show her what he was like once he'd lose control.

The fact that she had used such a foul word stirs something in him, and the next thing Tifa knows, Cloud's thrusts become quicker and harder. He rolls his hips to hers roughly, pressing her onto the bed, the springs singing to their bodies' tune while the headboard bangs against the wall as he moves within her. Pumping wildly, while she remains soft and pliant, letting him rut against her, his hurried pants puffing against her ear, telling her that he is enjoying this as much as she is.

She moves with him, nails leaving crescent shaped dents on the expanse of his hard back, emitting a deep guttural growl from him as Cloud digs his knees into her floral sheets and rams into her, unhinged and unyielding, moving to his own release. A hand grabs her ass cheek, using it as leverage while he continues his harsh jackhammers until he suddenly comes inside, the feel of his warm cum heating her walls while he grunts her name and slumps against her.

She doesn't know if this is the way it's supposed to end, aching and feeling like she just missed something.

"I'm sorry." He murmurs against her breast.

"It's okay. I enjoyed it."

He shakes his head and lifts it up to stare at her.

"You didn't cum."

It's funny how intimate this conversation already is. A few minutes ago, she might have laughed at the prospect of them ending up in bed together tonight. But here they were, Cloud's ejaculate dripping from her core while he talks about how he wasn't able to give her an orgasm. Not that she knows how it feels like anyway.

It's enough though, feeling him inside her is enough, and she tells him so. He shakes his head again and slides down her body to pleasure her with his tongue.

And my oh my was it divine.

He knew just how to get her going, and Tifa, could only hold onto him while she feels herself taper on to that foreign edge, fingers threading through his chocobo hair while he sucks and licks intermittently, fingers curling deep within her until she feels herself burst, eyes rolling to the back of her head, sparks going off while he rubs her cunt as she arches her hips to his mouth, legs shaking and bucking up.

"Fuck."

She hasn't even come down from her high before he's parting her legs and settling himself between them to slide into her again, the head of his cock parting her folds as he drives in. He gives her a second to adjust to his intrusion before he resumes his passion-filled thrusts; hips pumping hard and with such precision unlike before, hitting something deep within her that only makes her pant with need at how good it felt.

It felt so good.

He forces her legs wider apart, fucking her without restraint. She comes again with his cock still buried deep, her walls sucking him in while she embraces him tight, nearly pausing his movement because it feels like it's too much. However, he's still pounding into her, still thrusting harshly.

"Cloud, I can't... It's too..."

"You can."

She feels like she might shatter if he doesn't stop. Everything inside her has become too sensitive, and with Cloud hitting a spot that's more sensitized than any other place on her body, Tifa raises her hips to his, meeting his thrusts in wanton abandon, as he leans in and flattens his body against hers, connecting them intimately while he continues his strong pumps.

"Cloud... I can't..." She tries to tell him again.

"Open your eyes."

She hasn't even realized that she had slid them shut, mind too lost in all these sensations. She opens her carmine eyes, and the sight before her becomes her undoing. Because there was Cloud Strife, keeping his eyes locked with hers, an expression of intense desire on his face as he continues his rough thrusts, lacing their fingers together. He meets her lips again, hips increasing his pace. Tifa whimpers at the feeling, returning his passionate kisses until he pulls away to murmur in her ear.

"You can, Tifa."

Her eyes are brimmed with tears when he takes her to the edge of oblivion, fucking her to such heightened pleasure that all she can do is hold on until he pulses and swells inside her and cums with a deep and hard drive, spilling his essence again, hips assuming a broken rhythm as he prolongs the pleasure;

A sheen of sweat covering his whole body,

Making it glisten in the moonlight as she gazes up at him.

Beautiful.

Simply beautiful.

___________________________

She thinks that she doesn't really mind if the Cloud before her no longer holds any resemblance to the boy she had once waited on. Even when she wishes that he gave her some hint that he was still there. But then again, even if he's different now, it wouldn't change things. Because here they were, seven years after she'd last seen him, and she still managed to fall in love with him all over again.

She's in love with him.

The current him.

All cocky and rude sometimes, yet gentle all the same, considerate, and protective.

Her hero.

And as she traces his cheek, and slides his blond tresses off his face to look at him closely, Tifa knows that he's still the same boy either way.

He's still Cloud.

The boy she grew up with, the shy teen who called her to the water tower, the young man waving goodbye, boyhood dreams lighting up his cerulean eyes.

She swears that she'll never leave his side. Not as long as he wants her beside him. She'll protect him. Watch over him. Make sure he's alright.

Every night.

Every day.

Maybe every lifetime.

She smiles when he opens his eyes, greenish hue filling her with doubt yet that flicker of familiarity in his deep orbs fluttering her heart.

He's still Cloud.

___________________________

Author's Note: Special shout out to Senigata and Denebola Leo, whose fics have had a heavy influence on mine lately.

The idea of Jessie being bisexual is originally from Senigata's "Journey of a Barmaid", it's an awesome fic over all. So, I wanted to explore their first time, granted that I left out the details in the Honeybee Inn, though I've been shying away from putting in too much, but then again, I'm looking for some CloTi smut. By the way, for any background of the Biggs/Tifa thing, my fic "The Fighter" covers it. :D

Er, Read and Review?

#cloti #cloti fanfiction #cloti fanfic #cloud and tifa

32 notes · View notes