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elytrafemme · 2 years

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Another Cough Syrup Tuesday comes and goes, once again leaving Galaxy in shambles... It is once again essay time, and I can't wait to share my thoughts on this lovely chapter! :D

I shall begin my ramblings with the loveable cs!Tubbo (Someone please give him a therapist holy shit) His characterization in this chapter didn't disappoint, and he continues to be such a complex character with such an interesting perspective! This chapter started with Tubbo (once again) being upset that he has feelings. My mans is pissed that he feels pissed and it's great! (not for him) His constant need to be "the put together one" is really starting to boil over and implode on itself. The rampant repression has to end one way or another, and that's either by snapping from the building of tension or by Tubbo finally having an open and honest discussion with someone in regards to everything. And judging by this chapter, I have a feeling it might be the former. Now of course Tubbo's lack of a healthy mental state comes from multiple sources, and one of which made me very angry in this chapter. that being, Tubbo's repeated victim-blaming towards himself. "Dream is different from Schlatt" Yes they are Tubbo, but they BOTH ABUSED SOMEONE. You are allowed to think of Schlatt's actions as abusive because they were, and even though he isn't some evil black & white monster, that doesn't it wasn't abuse. Just because "Others have it worse" doesn't mean you didn't suffer. Regardless of what trauma goes through, someone else will always have it worse, but that in no way means that someone is unjustified for feeling the effects of abuse and trauma. Sorry mare, I just had to rant to cs!Tubbo about this because I wanted to shake him by the shoulders the whole time, you've really done a great job writing the effects Tubbo's abuse, and because of this, I think I might be a cs!Tubbo kinnie because the internal conflict he's having with himself over this is so familiar to me and it's good to see this side of it presented so well! And what would a cs!Tubbo section be without talking about his self-hatred?! :D All the repeated phrases of Tubbo being "Not important" or being comforted more than he deserved. Tubbo sees himself as nothing, worth nobody's energy or time, and it's SO concerning. And it always comes in as an afterthought for him, he'll think about people that matter to him, and without even thinking he'll add on something about how he doesn't matter, like it's just a given. The way you write Tubbo's internal thoughts always blows me away both with how depressing it is and with how well you can subtly present a character's issues to the point they become visible after seeing all the layers of small moments stack together.My favorite scene in the portrayal of cs!Tubbo's mass amount of problems was definitely the "Tubbo's Angry" section in the shopping portion. I've always loved the use of repetition in an extreme emotional context, and the way this part just builds and builds rage, it feels just like wanting to snap. And of course, what I say to most of Tubbo's "unnational" anger, is- YOU HAVE DEPRESSION YOU IDIOT OMFG!!! So it's safe to say that you've once again nailed cs!Tubbo this update :)

Next, I will continue my in-depth discussion with the relationship dynamic of cs!beeduo in an orderly manner- FINALLY TUBBO FINALLY ONE OF YOU REALIZES IT ISN'T PLATONIC ANYMORE FINALLY TUBBO YOUR DUMB GAY ASS REALIZED- ahem- I was very thrilled when I read Tubbo's realization to say the least... But I do actually have some analysis things to say about the presence of beeduo in this chapter (Which finally btw, the last chapter was so sad) The beginning of the chapter started with Tubbo talking about how he's been feeling like crap, and why? Mostly because Ranboo had been ignoring him. That being the main reason Tubbo's so upset is just so sad to me. He matters so much to him- to each other, and yet neither of them realizes how much the other thinks of them. It's so frustrating to know what's going on on both sides because we know how much the absence is affecting both of them, and at the same time know why Ranboo's avoiding him which is super concerning! And then of course Tubbo literally doesn't even think he deserves how much Ranboo cares about him ("More times than he should have") It all adds up to a horribly tragic soup that still tastes good because angst is fantastic! And of course, we have the phone call, which starts out so lovely. They're flirting again without calling it flirting and being dorks and great and they're happy- WRONG! The phone call takes such a horrible turn, and you're so good at conveying emotions through your writing because it felt so uncomfortable when Ranboo starts "talking to Niki. It's nerve-racking that he so desperately feels the need to hide Tubbo from which was most likely Dream that he instantly pretends to talk to someone else. And then the fact that it's from Tubbo's pov and you can feel how terrified he is for Ranboo, he keeps doubting himself on the nature of the situation and if it was Dream or not, and it also makes the reader uncertain in what we first think. It's just all so wonderfully unsettling, and I can't wait to see cs!beeduo fall apart more on the 28th where nothing goes wrong and they hang out with nothing bad happening once so ever!

Now, the scene with Wilbur and Tubbo was just wonderful. Oh to have Tubbo's denial of family complex FINALLY be called out by someone else. So satisfying, but also stressful. Cs!Wilbur has always been slightly intimidating from Tubbo's pov, because there was always a level of awareness that he knew about a lot of what Tubbo kept trying to hide. And this scene feels like being cornered. But you also made it clear that Wilbur is lashing out, making Tubbo confront his problem and acknowledge it, that he's trying to prevent what happened with himself and the part of himself he sees in Tubbo before it's too late. The way the conversation just ends so quickly into complete silence is so jarring, and everything leads to the thought that Wilbur knows way more than he lets on.

Surprisingly, I think I'm also a cs!Jack kinnie now because of the last big scene of this chapter. Why? Good question! This whole scene came out amazing for so many different reasons. For one I can tell just how much effort you put into that resident evil argument because it was genuinely very funny, but the real wonder in this scene was Jack's emotional breakdown. His feeling came across so clear, and realistic. I've been where Jack is and he just sums up everything so well, he's struggling to even get through the day, he doesn't even have a support system and you can see the desperation, I could almost hear it while reading. And I won't lie, this marks the second time you've made me cry mare, you just write so good! Emotional breakdowns of fictional characters are simply your bread and butter! And how could I talk about this scene without mentioning that cs!Tuboo's sexual awakening was fucking Luigi?! Absolutely brilliant! (/hj) But seriously that actually explains why he was so drawn to Ranboo... Tall? Check. Nervous all the time? Check. Wears gloves? Check! Regardless, great work with making Jack such a layered character when I initially only thought of him as a crypto bro!

Finally, I want to bring attention to two more things. For one, the way you chose to write the holidays for cough syrup actually really resonated with me :D I grew up with a catholic mom who hatted the catholic church for several reasons, so we never celebrated the religious parts of christian holidays. Like I didn't even know what christmas was even actually for until I was like 12, so the little non-explicitly religious celebration sbi's got going was really nice! The other thing is the ending of the chapter... It was so good, and gives both the feeling of "OH FUCK, HERE IT COMES!!!" and "Thank God" at the same time! So now I'm really excited for chapter 28!!

This chapter was fantastic! You get me to feel so many things that I can barely limit myself when I type these things! (Funny story, my backspace key would not work when I tried writing this ask on Tumblr. It was only not working on the ask box which was just so ridiculous! So I had to type this out on google docs first and copy-paste it) I can't wait to see how cs!Ranboo implodes next chapter! You write so so well mare, you write emotions so raw and messy, and it's so much nicer to have something like this to read than some shallow orderly story of healing. Your writing feels so human, and I smile every day thinking about how lucky I was to find this fic :]

Have a great day or night, and I'll see you around in your askbox! :D <333

HELLO GALAXY MY BELOVED <3

cs!Tubbo's repression grows stronger by the second! I'm really glad you liked that section because I'm fond of it too; we see a lot of Tubbo's passive rejection of any notion that he's important or able to be saved a lot in the earlier chapters, but i wanted to really show him start to cave into this building resentment that yes we do see earlier on, but we are only just now in this chapter seeing as a whole. he's been angry about these things all this time, but only now is it starting to build up to be so much that he has this uncontrolled rage period, one that dissipates eventually but still is a marker for what's to come.

Tubbo, too, is so unwilling to put schlatt and dream on any kind of equal level because all he's shown to know about Dream has BEEN what he did to Tommy, but he knew Schlatt ever since both are younger, and there's obviously so much more pressure and context there that makes it that much harder to accept that you've been abused. sorry about the cs!Tubbo kinning btw join the crew <3

YESSS I LOVED THE FUCKING PHONE CALL SCENE!!! that was not even in my PLANS for this chapter but i felt bad depriving you guys of them for so long, and i also really wanted to build up more of ranboo's whole thing with dream, and how it's coming across to tubbo. At this point in the story it is damn near impossible for either of these two to look at the other and go Ah yes I have platonic feelings for you, even as they still waffle back and forth about how they feel. I was most worried in this chapter about pulling off the whole jarring shift in the phone call bc I wanted it to take the readers off guard and also show Tubbo this really terrifying reality: This is still someone that he cares about and loves talking to, but even still there is this looming threat behind it all. It's not as straightforward as the two of them happily talking, or Dream picking up the phone-- it's a mix of the good and the bad to show Tubbo that they aren't in the clear yet, and he's still committed to figuring Dream out so that he can keep Tommy AND Ranboo safe, but it's getting harder because Ranboo's getting smarter and Tubbo's getting tired.

I fucking love Wilbur and Tubbo's dynamic because as you pointed out really articulately Wilbur is kind of a secondary threat to Tubbo for a lot of reasons. I also try to make Wilbur kind of a mystery, as there are a lot of moments that imply subtle tension or conversations happening between Wilbur and Techno, and Wilbur's whole past is a thing. The two are meant to parallel each other, but in a way that neither of them want-- Wilbur doesn't want Tubbo to be stuck in the aftermath of something larger than himself, but Tubbo already knows that the same thing that happened to Wilbur is happening to him

I LOVE writing emotional breakdowns, hurt/slight comfort used to be my SHIT in my older fandom downs; now I've gotten all soft /hj but I still love love love love LOVE writing it. It's so fucking fascinating. But that aside, GOD I put my heart and soul into fucking Resident Evil V research, and I'm also so so so glad people like where I'm taking Jack's character! I started him off as very 2 dimensional in this fic, but I'm trying to add more depth to him and show more about the world around Tubbo and everything. Fun fact: this scene was actually going to be a scene between RANBOO and Jack when I initially started this story, but it ended up working out wayyyy better this way

Also yeah. The luigi and ranboo parallels .... <///3

YOOOOOOO HOLDIAYS STUFF!!! Yeah my family just celebrates Islamic holidays and New Year's so I wanted to keep it, like, not strictly Christmas when that can be either non-religious or very religious for people. so I'm glad you liked the whole blanket holidays thing-- I think considering the characters in that family it works really well!

I SMILE EVERY DAY THINKING ABOUT HOW LUCKY I AM TO MEET U STOPPPP UR SO SWEET <33 Yeah the fucking ask box backspace glitch KILLLLLLED ME i think they fixed it though!!!!!! But thanks so much for this comment it means the entire world and more to me!

#long post #cough syrup spoilers #nightmare.ask #galaxy tag :d #nightmare.cough-syrup

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abacus-and-paper-money · 3 years

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Comet Theory Thursday: The Private & Fucked-Up Life of The House

[CONTENT WARNING! Today's analysis gets a little darker than normal, and there will be discussion of abuse/child abuse, manipulation, and similar topics. Please proceed with caution, and feel free to dip if things start getting too dark or something triggers you. ^^] It's no secret to anybody that the Bolkonsky household is incredibly fucked. I mean, they literally introduce themselves that way. "Andrey's family, totally messed up." But since today's vote was literally UNANIMOUS, and to make up for my inactivity because of finals this week, I thought that I'd do an extra-good and thorough job on this one. I've pulled out the off-broadway recordings, which I don't normally listen to, as extra evidence. Additionally, I've done some research on domestic abuse for some additional proof. Also, if you haven't already, please read the warning at the top of this post before continuing. Content under the cut! [Usual Disclaimer: This is an analysis of Great Comet and Great Comet!Bolkonskys, and does not include any canon from War & Peace. I consider them separate universes. :D Plus I haven't actually read War & Peace-]

Alrighty, welcome to the analysis! Let's just dive right in. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that everybody is kind of on the same page in the "OPB is an asshole, Mary is baby and deserves NONE of this shit," book. And, surprise surprise, that's exactly what I found more of. Not only is he an asshole, but it's to the point of emotional abuse. So, let's look at the symptoms of abuse and child abuse. According to Mayo Clinic (which is a very credible source, I did my research, guys) here are some symptoms of abuse/child abuse. I've written down here the ones that seem to be visible in Mary. These include: • Loss of self-confidence or self-esteem • Social withdrawl or a loss of interest or enthusiasm • Depression • Desperately seeks affection • Difficulty establishing or maintaining relationships • Challenges with intimacy and trust • Inability to cope with stress and frustrations • Seeming fearful • Seeming anxious to please the abuser And some characteristics of abusers/abusive relationships that I see in OPB & Mary (from Healthline, which is for the most part pretty reliable, minus the occasional pseudoscience article lmao): • Name-Calling • Sarcasm & Belittling • Threats • Orders • Walking out in social situations, and therefore leaving you with all the pressure • Trivializing & making excuses for their behavior • Interrupting • Cutting you off from others or society in general, directly or indirectly All of this sounds pretty damn familiar, right? "And I have no friends, no, never go anywhere," "Insolent girl!" "Bring me my slippers! Bring me my wine!" And from the Off-Broadway: "Silence!," etc. Okay, let's analyze more thoroughly, now that we have some basics down. Mary's anxiety and tension is through the roof from the minute we meet her. (Fun fact, costume designer Paloma Young said that the numerous buttons on Mary's dress represent her anxiety and the urge to fiddle) Mary's general personality and emotions are pretty easy to understand right away. Anxious, caring, socially awkward, and most of all, lonely. Which she talks about a lot. Which she wouldn't do, if it didn't bother her. She desperately wants a friend or a spouse, somebody to care about her. Though that latter is probably moreso the only way to escape her current predicament. "And I have no friends, no, never go anywhere," for example. We also have the line "Will I ever be happy? Will I ever be anyone's wife?" Which almost ties the two statements together, equating happiness with being somebody's wife, and therefore escaping her situation. So, if she's so desperate for somebody to be friends with, why does she judge Natasha so hastily? Well, there's a few reasons. First off, she knows her father doesn't like Natasha, and she's been conditioned her whole life to always agree with what he says. There's also Mary's intense jealousy of her. Natasha has always been adored by everyone, including Mary's own brother, who seems not to care about his sister very much. There's also the possibility that Mary just wants Natasha out as fast as possible, to avoid her father becoming angrier, which would most likely be taken out on her. It's also important to take into account that Mary probably doesn't know how to even MAKE friends, considering she's been cut off from society for so long. Her strained and anxious "oh. Oh hello. Won't you come in?" Conveys that pretty well. Then, we have the commanding. It's relatively normal for parents to tell their children to do things, but OPB is so fucking order-y about it, with the "Bring me my slippers!" and "Bring me my wine!" And shit. And even worse, the off-broadway recording includes "Silence! Silence!" And "You shut your damn mouth girl, Shut your damn mouth, I can hurt you!" Also found in the off-broadway recording, Mary says "He could beat me, or treat me like a dog. Make me fetch wood or water, and it's just how it is. Oh father, I love you father" OPB also has a tendency to make his daughter feel like she's the one at fault, or she's the one who's being bad to him, which is one

of the biggest characteristics of abuse. We have "This is just how it is, It's just how he is, I'm always to blame," and of course the "I disgust myself" from the end of the song. "This is just how he is," plays a significant role here, too. Mary's in a constant internal struggle between being angry at her father, and being angry at herself while she makes excuses for him like "He is a tired old man and must be forgiven." She tells herself that she's the one at fault here, no doubt because that's what she's always been told. "He is old and feeble, and I dare to judge him." On the other side of that, there's the anger that comes out occasionally. One of the most telling moments between Mary & OPB is the whole "I can hurt you" bit. OPB says it first, threatening her. (possibly something he's carried out before?) Then they both say it together, and then Mary's "but I never, ever, ever, ever would! No, father, I love you, father." What I'm seeing is Mary trying to retaliate against the first "I can hurt you," but simultaneously getting scared back into submission by her father. Her reaction is to immediately take it back, and then offer her love to show that she isn't an enemy. Also, if you watch her on stage, during the "Never, ever, ever, ever"s she's looking around at the audience, a little panicked, and almost rushing to tell them that she didn't mean it. Shifting gears slightly, we're now gonna look at how Mary feels trapped. Her constant mentions of both time and loneliness show that she feels powerless and unable to escape her situation. Even from the very first time she says anything in the story: "But besides the couple of hours during which we have guests, there are also twenty-two hours in the day." That's oddly specific, isn't it? I mean I know how math works, a couple + 22 = 24, but still. Mary seems to be acutely aware of time and it's passing. The feeling like she's running out of time heightens her anxiety, because the older she gets, the less appealing she'll be to suitors, and therefore less likely to get married, and therefore much less likely to get out of her situation. OPB also seems to be purposefully scaring off suitors so that she has no chance of getting away in a socially acceptable manner. Mary also doesn't seem to be getting any support from her brother either. When Andrey comes home near the end of the show, Mary is onstage, waiting for him. She stands up to greet him, but instead he just pushes past her to sit on their father's chair. The fuck, dude? Anyway, that about wraps everything up. Overall, I've come to the conclusion that Old Prince Bolkonsky can suck a dick, and Mary deserves none of this shit. Hope you enjoyed! I worked really hard on this one. This week's topics will be posted in a bit!

#ctt #comet theory thursday #great comet analysis #literary analysis #musical analysis #cw: abuse #tw: abuse #mary bolkonskaya #old prince bolkonsky #npatgco1812

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fanfalc-616 · 4 years

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The Rights Of A Nindroid

Chapter Thirteen- Variation Two

(Prevoius variation here)

(Discord Here)

This chapter was originally an RP with @ablackswansweet, and there are two versions- one from both character’s POV. I have Swan’s permission to post this.

The young man can feel the android's gaze on him. It's wary of Martha and him, although he can hardly blame it. But he can't help but find the idea of a machine being "scared" kind of funny.

"What do you want?" It asks, most likely knowing something is coming, judging from the resignation in its voice. Kyle smiles internally.

You can almost see the cracks.

The blond is practically buzzing with excitement. A real android! And he gets to study it up close!

Getting closer, he inspects its face. The eerie look almost makes him shudder.

"I want to learn how you work." He takes Original's chin in his hand, moving it's head left and right to get a better look at it. The winces of "pain" from the android are uncanny.

He writes down some notes and takes his place next to the official again. Next part should be fun.

The android seems less than pleased with him playing with its uncovered face. Still, it bites its tongue instead of Kyle's hand (despite its very obvious desire to do so) until the blond is done, and lets out what sounds like a breath of relief.

How can you replicate relief in coding ? It's AI is fascinating.

"Haven't you done that enough?" It whines, trying to shake off its bonds. "With everything you've done to me, I doubt that any competent mechanic would need any more research."

It tries to shoot him a displeased glare, but without its faceplate it just looks unsettling and pathetic.

Kyle chuckles to himself. For a machine, it's talking a lot. Fascinating.

"Thing is, Original, I'm not exactly a mechanic. I'm just really, really interested by your wires and gears. And how well they respond to… Certains stimuli," he says.

A few more words in his notes and he looks at Martha, asking if it's time. She nods. Awesome.

As fast as he can, the blond connects wires to the android, barely able to contain his joy. It's not everyday you get to experiment on a non-human sentient being.

Stepping in front of the control panel, he waits for the official's instructions, almost shaking from anticipation.

Original isn't looking so good. It seems worried. Well, it's right. It should be. The distress emanating from it is very interesting, too. Can it sense the danger looming over it?

“To begin with, my name is Zane, not Original. Second, if you are so interested in ‘wires and gears’ perhaps a robotics course would be a more healthy outlet for you," it tries to reason with him. Too bad that it's way more interesting than a simple robotics course.

After a pause, it adds, "Why are you doing this? I can assure you that I have never meant to cause harm on any innocents.”

Kyle's hand twitches. He looks over at Martha. She's wearing a displeased expression. He didn't expect anything else, and he's probably making the same face as well.

“You can begin whenever you like.” The official tone sounds slightly interested, now.

He hums in response.

"Hey, Original?" He calls out to the robot. "You talk a lot."

He pushes a button and a small jolt of electricity was released. This fairly small amount of energy is only meant to cause discomfort. Wouldn't want to burn it out too fast.

The android squirms and still attempts to free itself, but no real pain response occurs. Interesting. A new paragraph written.

It still tries to reason with him, going on and on about how it wants it to stop, please. Kyle drowns the sound out with his thoughts. That wasn't very exciting.

Maybe with a stronger charge, something interesting will happen? That's what Martha seems to think too.

The android finally looks like it understands it's not talking him out of it.

How advanced is its code supposed to be, again? That took a while.

“I suppose I am talking a lot,” It concedes, “but not nearly as much as an old friend of mine. Jay couldn’t stay quiet if his life depended on it.”

Is it trying to have a conversation with him? Now? In its situation?

It must have thought of something. Let's humor it.

"Heh, yeah. I had a guy like that in one of my foster homes." A smirk grows on the blond’s face as the robot seems startled. "Didn't end well for him either. No one like a constant source of useless noise, don't you agree?"

Even without a faceplate, its expressions are pretty easy to guess. It's almost laughable how a few words shakes it up.

Making small talk is is a smart plan, he'll give it that. It's probably hoping that it'll make him like it enough to not hurt it. Let's see how long this game can last.

"How is your old friend doing now?" He asks, slowly turning up the voltage. The other engineers told him this should be as painful as period cramps, so that's fun.

The android struggles under the amount of electricity building up. But still, it continues to talk. Kyle's impressed.

“I haven’t seen him in a while- I’ve been a little…” It looks at its restrains and winces, probably reminded of its situation.. “... tied up.”

At big crooked smile appears on the blond's face. It's even making jokes now! Powering through painful situations could be a valuable asset if they were to make something like supersoldiers. Looking good so far.

“I don’t think I caught your name, either. What do you go by?” It asks, most likely trying to get information on him. That's not very important data, though. It can have it.

The blond lets his face turn into a surprised expression for a second. "My name's Kyle. He/him, I guess. But I don't think you're going to need to know that."

He turns the charge a little higher again, hoping to see some more interesting pain responses as they continue to talk. This is getting boring. Martha seems to approve of his method, however. Thanks, mom.

"Tell me about your other old friends. You said you were dating, right? How's it like ?" He asks again, a sinister smile on his face. How about a good old Pavlovian shock therapy?

Original fights any sign of discomfort or pain, and its calm expression is almost unsettling when you know what its sensors are going through right now.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kyle," It tells him, the lie barely noticeable. But Kyle has worked with hypocrites before. Original is talented. “I don’t recall mentioning that I was in an active relationship, but I suppose that the background research you must’ve done would cover that.”

Kyle smiles and says nothing. He increases the tension steadily, appreciating the sight of the android losing its peaceful facade, with flashes of pain occasionally visible on its face.

Impressive. The robot is still fighting. Maybe leaving the sensors at their normal settings was too nice, but oh well. Things are just now getting better.

"Yeah, I read your file before coming here. Big fan, by the way." He smiles, but the hostility starts to seep in his voice. "Wonder how they feel about your self-sacrificing nature," he almost spit out.

No. Breathe. Calm down.

Some composure regained, he suddenly sends it a jolt of electricity. Seeing it almost bite its tongue in pain is pretty therapeutic, actually.

Kyle lowers the voltage to let the robot catch his artificial breath. It's going to give up completely pretty soon. He'll have some fun with it first.

"So, your old friends ?"

Its pathetic sigh of relief is still very satisfying. It looks desperate, and tries to explain its past actions. It really doesn't need to. Kyle already knows they're unforgivable.

“When I was fighting the Golden Master, I meant no harm to any innocent people. I was built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. I… I understand that in some ways, I have failed this function, but I do my best to help those in need.”

The android attempts to steady its breathing. Trying to keep keep a sliver of dignity in front of the enemy, maybe ?

Anyways, it stopped talking. Finally.

Kyle sighs and does his best not to give a snarky reply. It seems to believe in what it's saying, anyways. Further proof of how out of touch with reality its AI is.

Another spike of tension, and Kyle is smiling again.

"You didn't answer my question, Original. How was life with your… Boyfriends ? Kai Smith, Jay Walker and Cole Brookstone, yeah ?" He says, insisting on their last names. They know who they are. Perhaps that'll make it talk.

His excitement level goes through the roof at Original's reaction. It goes stiff, most likely from anger. He found the weak spot.

A whimper escapes it, but it doesn't adress it. It's really mad.

“You do not touch them," it snarls at him. If Kyle's hand had been close to its face, there was no doubt it would've bitten him. “If you hurt them, I swear on the First Spinjitzu Master that I will hunt you down to the ends of the-“ Kyle cuts him off by sending it a strong shock. It cries in pain. The blond doesn't feel bad.

"Calm down. I didn't even actually threaten them yet," The boy mutters, leaving the tension run high a few more seconds before leaving it room to breathe again. The pathetic sounds of relief it does each time makes him want to laugh.

"If I wanted to truly use them as hostages, I'd tell you I know which shop they go to every two weeks to buy supplies and food, which is the one at the end of the main avenue."

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the voltage starts going up again.

"I'd tell you we have live feed of them almost every day and everywhere they go."

The pain must be becoming close to absolutely unbearable, seeing how the android trashes around. Fun.

"Or… I'd tell you how one of them already got arrested once, and how easy it is to transfer prisoners or fake an accident."

The power is now all the way up. It's almost scary how much this artificial body can handle.

Before it actually physically breaks, though, Kyle shuts off the power. The android's breath of relief is broken up by what sounds like sobs.

The blond comes closer, chuckling as the machine flinches near him. He takes off the wires plugged into it.

"Don't you dare threaten me or her ever again. Remember who holds the power here," he mutters in its ear before joining Martha with a smile, his notepad black with scribbles. She looks satisfied.

The android looks like it wants to say something, but doesn't have the strength to do so anymore. That's a satisfying sight.

He leaves the room with Martha, closing the door after her.

She smiles at him.

"It's close. You were right, you can almost see it cracking by the minute."

She fondly ruffles his hair and he chuckles, his nose tickled.

"Good job, sweetie."

#the rights of a nindroid #ninjago fanfiction #ninjago zangst #psychological torture #torture #trauma

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makorragal-312 · 4 years

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Void (Part Ten)

We have now arrived at the final chapter of 2020! Hope you guys enjoy and I’ll see you guys in January!

28...29...30

Allura released her grip from the pole, landing on her feet flawlessly as she placed her hands on her knees, catching her breath. She could hear the constant pounding of her heart in her ears, its rhythm starting to let up the more she inhaled and exhaled. She had been spending her time in the Garrison training room for the last couple of hours, mostly kicking and punching her stresses out via punching bag after punching bag. By the time she was done beating the bags into submission, her knuckles were aching and bruised, yet that didn't stop the satisfaction that filled her bones, As a reward to herself, the princess decided to stick to a lighter yet mundane regimen consisting of crunches, push-ups, and pull-ups.

The princess sighed as she walked away from the contraption, making her way towards the nearest wall where her belongings laid, that being a bottle of water and a orange gym towel provided by the Garrison. She bent down to pick up the bottle, already feeling the moisture being absorbed through her palm as she stood back up. She quickly undid the cap as she tilted her head back to consume the cold liquid, feeling its cold and replenishing effects make their way down her throat. She released her lips from the bottle after a few seconds, twisting the cap back onto its rightful place as she placed the bottle back on the ground and picked up the towel to dry her hands.

"Come on, Cass! You can do better than that!"

"Well, some of us aren't as flexible as you are."

Allura turned her head to the source of the voices. Her blue eyes gazed upon a young man and woman who seemed to be in the middle of a workout, both in Garrison gym attire and seemed to be at least in their late teens or early twenties like Keith. The man had fair, white skin with a pink undertone that gleamed underneath the ceiling lights due to the sweat that clung to him. His curly, obsidian hair swept to one side of his fair while his side profile showcased an undercut and a silver piercing on his ear. He was standing with his hands in his sweatpants, his weight on one foot as he was leaned back, looking down at whoever he was talking to as a smile secured their place on his face.

The princess followed his line of vision and looked to see the girl, who happened to be sitting on the ground with her legs outstretched before her. She had sepia skin and short, curly, dark brown hair that stopped right next to her chin. She held a playful yet somewhat annoyed expression at the young man as her mouth tried to suppress whatever she wanted to say to him. It didn't take long for the man to smirk and walk.behind her as he crouched down.

"Allow me, then." he said mischievously, before leaning his body down on her back, wrapping his arms around his friend as she attempted to squirm out of her grasp, letting out a string of giggles as she struggled.

"Oh my god! Jae, get off me! You're gonna break my spine!" she laughed. The struggle only lasted for another few seconds before Jae leaned back on his bottom, still holding Cass in his arms. The chucking girl was too busy trying to cease her laughter that she didn't notice the way he was looking at her, a warm smile gracing his features and the subtle tightening of his arms around her. It was a look that Allura knew all too well: Love. The Altean could only watch helplessly as the young woman finally turned to face him, her hazel orbs meeting his dark brown ones as her laughter finally over before a similar smile made way to her face.

"You're stupid." Allura heard her snort. Jae's smile grew bigger.

"I know." he replied softly, before leaning in to connect his lips with her as they quietly giggled between kisses before they got themselves off the floor and walked to the treadmills together.

Allura felt her chest tightened as she watched the scene before her. She couldn't ignore the way she saw herself in that girl. Spending time when the person she cared for and wanting to be wrapped in their intimate embrace, not caring about who knew or saw. She turned her head away from them, staring down at her towel as her mind started to wander. Just seeing that display of affection reminded her of her and Lotor before everything went awry.

The way he held her hand so gently.

The way he looked at her so lovingly.

The way he had kissed h-

Allura felt her eyes widened as someone popped into her mind.

Lance.

The princess felt a pang of guilt enter her chest as she spoke his name internally. It had been a couple of days since their argument in his hospital room and she was making an active effort to give the paladin his space. How could she not after everything she said to him? Despite this, however, she would still walk by his room and peak through the window to see how he was. There were times where he would catch her looking in and look away quickly, making an effort to keep his eyes trained on the blankets that covered him. At first, she assumed he was merely trying to forget about the fight and that because of her actions he was going to be somewhat distant. But then she would go back to his window and he would look so different. Gone was the look of anxiousness and the body language of someone looking to be small. Instead was the look of tranquility and the stature of someone who hoped to be small no more.

His trademark smirk when he joked with Hunk and Pidge.

His vivid and humorous face when he talked with Shiro.

His gentle smile and attentive eyes when he listened to Keith.

And not her.

"Allura, I wanna be your family."

"I would follow you across the universe."

Allura's grip tightened on her towel as she reflected on his words from their first date. She knew that Lance loved her, but she never realized the full extent of it until that night. Even though the mice had told her of his feelings back in the Castle of Lions, she merely brushed it off. But then the truth about Lotor came out and she found herself betrayed and hurt, and yet he was there. Just like he said he would. At least until this moment.

Now, the young man who said he would be by her side was doing everything in his power to be away from her side. The speedy walks away from her, the quick glances before looking away, his discomfort in his face whenever she would attempt to get close. And if the recent events on the volcano planet did anything for the princess, it basically confirmed just how far Lance was willing to go to keep his distance. She knew she was probably exaggerating, but that didn't make her concern any less valid. For quiznak's sake, he decided to separate himself from the group and almost got himself killed!

He was avoiding her. But why?

Did she say something wrong?

Did he not want to kiss her that badly?

Did he...not want to be with her anymore?

"No."

Allura bent down quickly to pick up her water bottle, making a quick haste to the women's locker room to take a much needed shower. As she made her way out the room, she glanced back to find the young couple from earlier at the weight station. Jae was smiling down at her, making sure she didn't get herself crushed as she focused on lifting the heavy weight. Allura turned away from the sight as she focused on the path in front of her, aggravation and fear filling her veins.

"I need to settle this.' _______________________________________________________________________

You came back.

Of course I did.

Lance reflected on his dream once more as he sat on the window ledge of his hospital room, looking out at nothing. The red paladin took a deep breath before exhaling, releasing the tension from the day. He smiled, embracing the feeling of inhaling the air from around him and not from a mask. The red paladin couldn't stand receiving oxygen through masks and an uncomfortable nasal cannula. Not being able to inhale like a regular person because his lungs were practically scorched and might as well have been puddles of tar. His throat, chapped and dry from the burning air and sore from his bloody coughs as if he had was vomiting lava. Luckily, his breathing had improved greatly in the last couple of days since then. His condition improved rather nicely and he was deemed to breathe on his own again. Now, he was finally being discharged and free to go on his merry-Voltron-fighting-way.

Which meant he was going to interact with the team again.

And certain people on said team.

Now that wasn't to say that he didn't want to see his friends. If anything, he wanted nothing more but to get out of that hospital bed and see them. Especially since they went through the effort to come and visit him while he was still in the midst of recovery.

For starters, as soon as Hunk and Pidge heard about his condition, they rushed over without hesitation. The red paladin couldn't forget how hard they squeezed him when they lunged at him for a three-person bear hug. He would say that they squeezed the life out of him, but the smoke and lack of oxygen already tried to accomplish that so it would be in poor taste to say such a thing. He remembered how hard Hunk cried into his shoulder and how tightly Pidge wrapped her thin arms around his abdomen as she shook.

"Oh, buddy! You scared us half to death!" Hunk wailed.

"We thought we lost you!" Pidge cried, words muffled as her face was pressed against Lance's hospital attire.

Lance chuckled at the memory. As much as Lance wanted to tell them how badly they were bruising his already sore chest, he didn't have the heart to push them away. They just had the scare of their lives being on that planet; they all did. He hated to admit it, but it was nice to know that they were worried about him. Sure, they probably would because they're his friends. But given "certain events," he had somewhat started to doubt that. But he didn't want to think about that right now.

As for Shiro, ever since their conversation he's been making an active effort to check up on him despite his busy schedule. Out of the team, Lance appreciated Shiro's presence the most. There were times where he would come in and he would strike up random conversation with him to take his mind off of his current situation. There would also be times where he would let Lance rant about his stresses of the day and occasionally give him some bits of advice. And there would be the rare scenario of Shiro providing Lance with more stories of Keith in his youth for potential blackmail fuel. Nonetheless, having his leader and friend as a confidant and someone to vent to was relieving to say the least. With everything that he's been going through, he could use it.

Lance got up from the window ledge and stretched, raising his arms over his head to get some much-needed circulation within him. He let out a heavy exhale as he gazed upon his reflection in the window. He was sporting a white T-shirt and Garrison-Paladin pants and boots, one of his arms adorning a bandage from crawling on the hard gravel on the volcano. Lance leaned in closer to the mirror, only to be met with the subtle bags that plagued his eyes due to exhaustion. Any person who saw him would just assume it would be from his time recovering, but Lance knew better.

"We were already in danger the moment we landed. And besides, it's not like I went out on my own. I was with Keith the entire time."

"And look how that turned out."

Lance groaned as he turned away from his reflection. He walked towards his hospital bed, placing his hands on the mattress in front of him as he shook his head. When he had said "certain people," he was begrudgingly referring to the princess. Ever since their argument, she had made it a point to not come by as often out of respect, which was something the young Cuban somewhat appreciated. But he wish that it didn't have to happen the way that it did.

He hated the way he had fought with her.

Lance couldn't even comprehend how it had gotten to that point where he needed to shout at her the way that he did. At least that's what he tells himself. He knew what he did was risky...BEYOND risky. We were talking navigating a planet with an active volcano and with an alarming time limit on oxygen. Lance knows Allura meant well from a place of concern, but he wasn't a kid following their mother's directions. He was a grown man who was capable of making his own decisions, no matter how dangerous they were. And if he messed, he was willing to take that, regardless if his life was at risk. And isn't that what he signed up for when he stepped up to the plate of being a paladin? To make life-threatening choices in order to get the job done and protect others?

Honestly, Lance didn't have an issue with the way Allura opposed his choice to separate. If anything, it gave him a small bout of reassurance that she did truly did care for him. The thing that the red paladin took issue with was how quick she was to pull blame on Keith.

That, he wouldn't tolerate.

Lance already had a small feeling that she was upset at him for taking Keith's suggestion of abandoning the armor, but he thought little of it considering Pidge agreed with Keith also. But when he chose to go with Keith up the volcano, he knew that she was pissed. And given the way she stormed off into the forest with Pidge and Hunk on her tail, she was REALLY pissed. And in a weird way, it was probably well deserved...for him. He didn't expect her to have any animosity for Keith from the situation. But apparently she did with the words she said.

How Keith wasn't able to protect him.

How Keith should've turned him away more.

How it was Keith's fault that I ended up in a hospital bed.

Under normal circumstances, if it was any other person blaming Keith, Lance would've defended Keith without question. He just didn't expect himself to defend him so fiercely from Allura, even going as far as to remove his one source of clean oxygen just to prove his point. In a way, it felt like Keith's Galra reveal all over again, only this time he did the defending all by himself and he wasn't in the mood to go through those emotions again.

He didn't want to raise his voice at the Altean, but he couldn't help but to feel so protective. But clearly it shook her to her core because she practically never stepped foot in his room since that day. There were times, however, he would catch her outside of his window. She would gaze at him apologetically and he didn't have the heart to return his gaze, opting to look down at his sheets as the fight was still fresh in his mind and he didn't want that anger to build up again for the sake of his aching chest.

Think of something else, Lance. Anything else.

Lance turned his head to the side and looked at his jacket, freshly ironed and ready to be worn once more by the Red Lion's paladin, his belt laying beside it. He slowly reached out for the garment as he picked it up, letting it hang loosely between his fingers. He knew sooner or later he was gonna have to talk to Allura about what's been going on with him and why he's been so awkward and flaky. But there was just one problem:

They're tall.

They have a huge ass scar on their cheek.

And they have a mullet.

What the hell am I gonna say? "Hey Allura! I'm not really into you the way I used to be because I'm too focused on our leader whom I just now realizing I practically can't lose or I'll lose my freaking mind!" Lance thought, before he felt his eyes widen.

That's it. He admitted it. He couldn't lose him.

He couldn't lose Keith.

Lance couldn't deny or disregard it anymore. Ever since their almost-talk after they brought back Shiro, things had felt unfinished between the two paladins. Lance couldn't speak for the half Galran in question, but he was definitely feeling the empty space. He had so many things he wanted to tell him but he had to push it to the back burner for more important matters, like defeating the Galra Empire and trying to protect their home planet from being overrun. Not to mention the fact that he and the other paladins almost died and spent most of their time in hospital beds, so that just pushed things to the back burner even further.

At the beginning, he couldn't place why he was so adamant about talking to Keith again. As time went by, he just thought that those few moments they shared before he was able to get a word in were just a fleeting moment or him simply wanting to make conversation. Especially given how when the Black Paladin returned from wherever-the-hell he was at for all that time and completely brushed him aside.

But that was before the sunset.

The sunset that started everything.

Lance unconsciously held the jacket to his chest, tightening his then loose grip as the familiar hot sensation went through his bones. He still remembered the way Keith had reassured him before he went to see Allura. He still remembered how tenderly he looked at him and the reassuring smile he had sent his way. It was truly amazing how in a short amount of time someone could take all of his insecurities and doubts and replace them with confidence and care. He knew Keith was building him up so that he would be able to leave, but it only left Lance wanting to stay. He didn't want to be a boy getting ready to eat with a princess. He wanted to be a young man sitting with the person he didn't want to lose.

All those feelings culminating in a moment where Lance was about to do something life-altering. Something that would change everything, especially between him and his leader, and it scared him to death. So he did the only thing he could do and run. Run to the person he had been waiting for ever since they first stepped foot in the Castle of Lions, the person who was finally willing to wait for him. But when it came down to it and he and Allura went on their date, it didn't feel right.

Lance no longer felt that excitement and happiness when he was beside her and those feelings continued to dwindle the longer the date progressed. Despite how grateful he was to Allura for giving him this chance to be next to her, he felt as if he was so far behind her. And when it came down to it, he couldn't find it in him to kiss her nor did he bring himself to care about starting to lose her.

Fast forward to now, and he no longer felt he was behind her. No, he felt as though he was lightyears ahead of her. As if he was looking back at her from behind him as he continued to stride forward. Because now, he had to focus on what was up ahead...who was up ahead. After all the intense dreams and near-death experiences, everything was slowly but surely starting to become clear: Keith is important to him and he refused to lose him.

"Despite everything that happened to you, you were able to summon your bayard and save me. I'm sorry, Lance, but I just can't call that nothing."

Lance took in a shaky breath as he recalled Keith's words. He still couldn't believe he was able to summon his bayard out of nowhere. The only other person who did that was Keith back when they were captured which was sorta to be expected because...it's Keith. Not to mention considering what the "glow-up" he had back when he was on the space whale, Lance learned to expect the unexpected with him. But for himself to do that despite being on the brink of death was surprising even to the red paladin, but at the same time it didn't feel like a coincidence to him. If he hadn't, neither him or Keith would be here right now. A fact that still manages to make him shiver at the "what-if" of it all. Lance felt his legs begin to quiver underneath him as he turned and sat down on the bed. He lowered his head into the jacket as he wrapped his arms around his jacket.

"Oh my God." _______________________________________________________________________

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

Lance was in the middle of fastening his belt when he heard the assertive knocks on his door before it opened. He assumed it was a nurse considering they had last come in his room to tell him to start getting ready to leave ICU, so he didn't bother turning around as he try to secure his belt quickly.

"Don't worry, nurse. I'm on my way out. I already made the bed so I just need to get settled in this and I'll be out of the way." Lance spoke quickly, eager to get out of the way. He heard the door close as he heard slow footsteps making their way into the room.

"I'm not a nurse."

Lance's eyes widened in shock as he swerved his head towards the familiar voice. It was Allura. She was standing firmly, arms by her sides with a determined expression on her face. Lance shifted backwards on his feet nervously as awkwardness set in for him. He and Allura haven't had a proper conversation since their fight so it felt weird for him to be standing in front of her face-to-face.

"Uh, I didn't expect to see you here." Lance started anxiously, looking down at the floor in order to avoid the princess' gaze.

"Well, I figured that I just check in one last time before you're finally released." Allura replied calmly. Lance nodded before walking back to the window ledge, taking a seat. Silence permeated the room as the red paladin was too anxious to speak. Allura continued to stare at him before she sighed heavily.

"Look, Lance. I know that things have been...strange between us ever since our fight. And I'm sorry, but we can't keep avoiding each other." Lance's ears perked up at the statement.

"Allura, I was confined to a hospital bed. It's not like I could really go anywhere." Lance said sarcastically yet firmly.

"T-that's not what I meant." the princess stuttered. It was Lance's turn to sigh heavily before responding.

"Princess, I really should start finishing u-"

"Lance!" Allura shouted almost desperately, before lowering her voice and tone. "Lance, I know that I hurt you with the words I said, and I'm sorry. But you're really starting to worry me. Things haven't been the same between us since we went out together and I know you feel the same way."

Lance clasped his hands firmly and stared down at them. Shiro had warned him that sooner or later he would have to come clean about his feelings and just everything in general. He just didn't expect it to be like this. The only thing he was supposed to focus on was finally leaving this plain hospital room and returning to his bedroom. He didn't think he would be confronted by Allura and would have to try to avoid another negative interaction between them. Oh, how he wished he had more time. The young Cuban heard Allura's footsteps come a couple of steps closer before stopping, probably to put a respectable distance between them.

"I know this might be the wrong time, Lance. But I think we need to talk." Lance's hands tightened as it seemed that the day he was dreading was finally upon him. Shiro's words rang through his head.

"Just do what you feel makes you comfortable...However, I will say that should they ask why, it's best to be honest. You can either tell them everything you've been feeling or just say that you're figuring stuff out and just need space for the time being."

Lance breathed in deeply before finally raising his head and look at Allura, gazing into her vibrant blue eyes for the first time in what seemed like forever.

"Yeah, we do."

#klance #klance voltron #klance fanfic #klance fanfiction #klance vld #keith kogane #lance mcclain #vld keith #vld lance #voltron #voltron fanfic #Voltron legendary defender #voltron s8 #void #void fic #voltron void #ao3 #also on ao3

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blancheludis · 4 years

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My second entry for @marveltrumpshate.

Characters: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes, Pepper Potts, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff Tags: Developing Relationship, Dad!Steve, Getting Together, Internalized Homophobia, Friendship, Love, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending Chapters: 1/? Words: 5.639

Summary: Tony and Steve are friends. That's all. Even if everybody seems to believe otherwise. Steve's not gay, after all, and he doesn't have time for brilliant billionaires who make him laugh. Right?

---

The crowd is suffocating. Too many people in too small a place. The air might be filled with excitement and energetic chatter, but Steve expects to hear screams any second now. Panic can erupt so easily, and this hall is so packed with bodies that there is nowhere to run.

Familiar tension fills Steve as he sets one foot in front of the other, scanning the room for potential exit routes. He volunteered to come here; he keeps telling himself. Either way, his paranoia is ridiculous. He is a grown man and survived far worse places than a science exposition. Nothing will happen. He is just being silly.

Peter tugs at his hand, moving through the crowd without a single trace of hesitation. He is so short that he cannot see much more than a sluggishly moving wall of legs before him, but that does not slow him down.

The Stark Expo is all Peter has been talking about for weeks, ever since Bucky brought a brochure to a family dinner. Steve loved listening to them gush about whatever technical marvel they were most interested in. When Peter asked to go, there was nothing else to do but to say yes with a smile.

Bucky should be here. He would understand much more of what is being shown and talked about here, and while he has a number of his own issues, he is marginally better with crowds than Steve. But then Bucky’s prosthetic malfunctioned, and they talked him into taking care of it immediately instead of putting up with the strain of walking around with his arm as deadweight just because of the expo.

Steve never hesitated to go in his stead. Peter is the most important person in his life, and he would do anything for him. They have lost enough already.

“Can we go to the robotics hall first?” Peter asks, throwing an excited grin over his shoulder. Despite the surrounding noise, Steve hears him perfectly, too tuned to miss none of his son’s words.

One-handed, Steve reaches into his pocket to get out the map they got at the entrance. He unfolds it and tries to apply the colourful schematic on the paper to the brimming chaos around them. He is tall enough to look over most of the heads in front of him, and he thinks he catches sight of a sign to the robotics hall.

“We need to go to the left,” Steve says, staring back at his map. “It should be two halls over.”

Smiling in response, Peter immediately steers to the left, ignoring the movement of the crowd. Steve’s brain gets stuck trying to find gaps to move through. There are none. He should have expected that. At this point, Steve is sure he would fare better if he simply closed his eyes and let Peter guide him where they need to go – if only panic would not set in the moment he tried.

The famed Stark Expo is known to be brilliant and organised and filled with exciting, life-changing knowledge. A multitude of branches and fields of science get their own hall to fulfil everybody’s needs.

Steve is not a scientist. The closest he comes to ever working with any kind of precision or calculable form is when he draws circles on canvas. Peter, despite being only eight years old, already has the brain of someone who will shape the future at some point. Steve is sure he gets that from Peggy.

At the moment, Peter’s greatest obsession is robots. At fault for that is mostly Bucky with his prosthetic, a top of the line Stark model, they were lucky enough to get through a veteran program.

Somehow, they get to the left side of the main hall. Once they get to a side hall, the crowd becomes sparser. Steve takes a deep breath. The anxiety is not completely gone, still pressing down on his sternum, but he can walk without stumbling over someone else’s feet, and actually see where he is going.

The expo has only opened the day before and several speeches are scheduled in the main hall this morning, so the rush is expected. For now, fewer people have decided to seek out the specific exhibitions.

“Are you all right, Dad?” Peter asks suddenly, walking right next to Steve instead of hurrying ahead.

He looks worried, never one to miss other people being in distress. Steve is not sure how he managed to create a child that is not just brilliant but so very empathetic too, but he is grateful for Peter every day.

“Of course, Peter,” Steve replies and straightens a little to give his words more weight. The last thing he wants to do is ruin this outing for his son.

“I know you don’t like many people in one place,” Peter says and watches the surrounding crowd while he bites his lip. Then he looks back up at Steve, his expression completely earnest. “We don’t have to stay long.”

Steve winces. He needs to pull himself together. They have not even fully arrived yet and Peter is already offering him a way out. So much for making sure Peter will have a great day.

“We’ll stay as long as you want,” Steve says. When Peter does not appear convinced, he adds, “I’m really fine.”

Nodding, Peter quickens his step again, but makes sure to stay at Steve’s side. “Perhaps Uncle Bucky can come join us later,” he says with audible hope in his voice.

Steve doubts that very much. Even if the problem with the prosthetic can be dealt with quickly, it usually drains Bucky too much to be able to do much of anything after these appointments. Coming to the expo with hundreds of strangers around them is most certainly out of the question.

It would be nice for Peter’s sake, of course. While Steve is willing to listen to everything Peter has to say, never getting bored even if he sometimes does not understand a word, Bucky is better able to keep up.

“Perhaps,” Steve says, unwilling to reject Peter’s hopes outright. “But we’re here for you, so take all the time you need.”

A beaming smile works itself back on Peter’s lips. “There will be a workshop of Stark Industries’ prosthetic division later,” he says in a flurry of words tumbling out of him in excitement. “Maybe they can teach me how Uncle Bucky’s arm works. And when I’m older, I can do the repair work for him so he doesn’t have to go to the lab all the time.”

Steve’s eyes burn as he looks down at his brilliant son, always aware of other people’s needs. Peggy used to tell him this is his influence, but while Steve did not let any chance pass him by to fight bullies, Peter seems to actively search for ways to make people’s lives better at all times.

“He would love that,” Steve says, pride filling his voice. “And you’re undoubtedly smart enough.”

One of Peter’s elementary school teachers had wanted to test Peter’s intelligence level, but they rebuffed all her inquiries. They need no test to tell them that Peter is smart, but giving him a proper childhood and a chance to grow at his own speed is more important than prodding his brain to find out how much he can do exactly.

“But I’ll be too young for them to talk to.” Peter’s shoulders slump a bit when he shrugs, disappointed but unwilling to let it ruin his day for him.

“That’d be stupid of them,” Steve argues immediately. Even if he does not want to go around proclaiming his son a genius to everybody who’s willing to listen, he will not let Peter deny his own brilliance either. “It doesn’t matter how old you are, just what you can do and what you’re willing to learn.”

If anybody tried to give Peter any problems during that workshop, Steve will not hesitate to tell them exactly what he thinks of that. According to reliable sources, Steve can stare at people with so much disappointment that it feels like a punch to the gut. His muscles help too, of course.

“I want to learn.”

Truer words have never been spoken.

---

Watching Peter is a constant source of delight. Once he has been given permission, he runs ahead, checking out every booth and every plate with information. He talks to everybody willing to listen, firing questions as quickly as he can get them over his lips.

Steve is content sitting in the background as long as he can keep an eye on Peter from afar and Peter comes checking in with him at regular intervals.

If a problem arises, Steve is ready to jump up and intervene. Experience shows, however, that people tend to only ever talk to Steve when he hovers at Peter’s side. Since Steve wants Peter to enjoy this day as much as he can, he is happy to stay back.

At one point he signals Peter that he will step out for a moment and gets an absentminded wave in return. The hall is slowly filling up and Steve could use some room to breathe. It is also nearing noon, so he should get something to eat for the both of them. They have sandwiches in their bag, but maybe it is time for a treat.

Steve wanders around for ten minutes tops. Ten minutes should not be enough for Peter to get into trouble. Yet, Steve returns to the hall only to find a man crouching in front of his son. He has his back to Steve and Peter does not apear frightened but more like he is excited to tell someone in great detail about the robot he will build out of Lego pieces and parts of their gutted toaster. Steve’s blood is boiling, anyway. They are quite a few paces away from the next booth and the man is clad in an expensive looking suit. He does not look like he is here for the exhibition. Strange men have no business talking to little boys who are not with their parents.

His heart is beating loudly in his ears as Steve takes long strides to reach his son and then he does not waste any time trying to listen in on what they are talking about.

“What are you doing?” he bellows, his voice automatically dropping to the ordering tone he adopted in the Army.

He puts a hand on the man’s shoulder and pulls him away from Peter, not enough to unbalance him but enough to send a message. Peter is looking at him wide-eyed, but Steve only notices that peripherally as he is concentrating on the stranger.

The man gets up and Steve is struck at the sight. He recognises him instantly. How could he not? This face is plastered all over the walls at the expo. Hell, Peter has a poster of this man up in his room.

This is Tony Stark. Head of Stark Industries. Figurehead of the Stark Expo. One of the smartest – and richest – men on the planet. And he is talking to Peter. And Steve just yelled at him.

Tony Stark, in real life, looks much more vibrant than any picture could ever convey. It might be the way the skin around his eyes wrinkle as he smiles or that, despite being a head smaller than Steve, he has a kind of entrancing aura that is hard to escape. He does not look the slightest bit intimidated by Steve bearing down on him. He is either braver than he looks or simply ignorant.

“Is this bright young man your son?” Stark asks and stays right where he is, almost too close for comfort. “I must say his ideas for robots put mine to shame.” He smiles and Steve has to admit it could be charming if his thoughts were not running rampant and he would not be fighting the urge to hide Peter behind him.

“Has no one ever told you not to talk to children without their parents present?” Steve all but growls.

Peter is stepping closer to him, reaching for his hand. “Dad,” he says, a plea in his tone.

But Steve does not look at him. “Not now, Peter.” He is busy glaring at Stark who just now begins to seem a bit apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” Stark says, creasing his forehead. “I didn’t mean to –”

Impatiently, Steve cuts him off. “Well you did.”

He is not usually so rough with other people, but Peter’s safety is more important than anything else. It does not matter that Stark is a celebrity or known for giving a ton of money to charities every year. Steve is already on edge, thanks to the crowd, and every uncertainty regarding Peter puts him in immediate attack mode.

“I could buy you a coffee to apologise,” Stark say, his smile back on his face, even if it is a little probing. His tone holds something playful, almost flirtatious.

The sheer audacity renders Steve speechless for a long moment. Who thinks it is appropriate to ask someone out for coffee after accosting their child? Worse, who flirts with someone who is obviously a parent? In front of their son?

“Are you serious?” Steve asks, watching Stark with growing disgust. Then he takes Peter’s hand, which is still clinging to his jacket. “Peter, we’re done here. We’re leaving.”

One step is enough to realise that Peter has no intention to follow. He stands rooted in place, looking up at Steve with wide eyes, spooked at his sudden roughness. It would not take much to pull Peter after him. Even for his age he is small and scrawny, although his energy levels never suffered from that. Steve is not that kind of father, however. His son is his life, and it does not matter that he wants to leave this place as quickly as possible.

“But I went to talk to him,” Peter argues, moisture gathering in his eyes. He has a sense of right and wrong closely following Steve’s own. Of course, he would want to make sure Steve does not blame Stark for this if it was Peter’s idea to talk to him.

“No, kid. He’s right,” Stark says before Steve can. The immediate gentleness in his expression as he turns to Peter mollifies Steve somewhat. “You shouldn’t talk to strangers. Especially not strangers who promise you to show you their robots at some point.”

There is that smile again, marred with some guilt but nonetheless bright. Steve is not sure why he cannot take his eyes away from it.

“You’re not a stranger,” Peter says, twitching like he wants to underline his point by stomping his foot. He is his mother’s son, though, and Peggy always knew when to hold back.

“Peter.” Steve sighs, exhaustion creeping up in his bones. This is a problem.

Peter’s love for science and learning things tends to make him blind to dangers. The man smiling down from posters and starring in guest lectures is very much a stranger, even if Peter likes to hang on every word he says like it is gospel.

Their family consists of a rather paranoid bunch, always prepared for something to go wrong. How Peter could have turned out this trusting is a mystery, especially since he has already gotten a taste of how cruel life can be.

“He wasn’t going to do anything,” Peter insists, glaring at Steve as if he is the unreasonable one here. “We’re surrounded by people and I knew you’d be back any minute. I wouldn’t have gone anywhere with him.”

And who would stop Tony Stark if he decided to take a child somewhere? A child obviously excited and chattering a mile a minute?

“I know. I’m just –” Steve trails off, clenching his free hand at his side. He is never sure how to take care of Peter without smothering him.

Peter tugs at his hand and waits until Steve looks at him. “I’m worried too when you’re not there.”

The back of Steve’s eyes burns, but he pulls his lips up into a smile, wobbly but honest. His son will be a good person one day. He is already taking giant steps in that direction.

Steve blinks several times until he is sure he will not start crying right here and straightens as he looks back at Stark. He almost takes a double-take because Stark’s smile has morphed into something far sadder, almost longing. He does not wipe it away when he notices Steve’s attention on him.

With a solemn nod, he says, “I’m really sorry, Mr. –”

Steve hesitates, long enough to fluster Stark. He is aware of Peter’s pleading eyes, though, so he decides to give Stark the benefit of the doubt. “Steve Rogers. You already know my son, Peter.”

He offers his hand out of habit and is surprised by the strength of Stark’s grip. He never expects much from the suit-wearing types. Especially not the ones Peter practically worships. One of them has to be prepared for the disappointment that inevitably follows.

“Call me Tony,” Stark says as if there is room for familiarity between them. Steve already knows he will ignore it. “How about that coffee? I’d love to hear more about Peter’s ideas.” With a small wink towards Peter, he adds, “Is he too young to offer an internship to?”

“No,” Peter calls, even when Steve throws him a warning glance. “I’m ready.”

Stark’s gall tastes bitter when Steve swallows. At the same time, he cannot help but find his daring intriguing. It reminds him of how Bucky was before they enlisted.

“I’m not sure, Mr. Stark,” Steve answers, deciding to ignore the last thing Stark said. “We haven’t seen everything here yet.”

He is polite mostly for Peter’s sake because he can only imagine the disappointment if he tells Stark no outright.

Peter has learned a thing or two from Natasha, though, and says with practiced innocence, “I’d like to sit down for a bit.”

That seals it. How could Steve deny Peter the chance for a break away from the humdrum of the expo when they both know exactly that he would like to get out of there for a while too?

Stark must recognise the shift in tensions and nods grandly with a smile. “Great, come on. I’ll get you the best coffee this place has to offer.” His expression holds no smugness but looks like he is really just happy Peter could convince Steve.

Steve does not believe it for a second but takes Peter’s hand nonetheless and falls into step with Stark.

They walk to a door in the side wall, labelled Personnel only, which Stark breezes through, leaving them no other choice but to follow. Immediately, it becomes easier for Steve to breathe. The chatter of the crowd behind them cuts off, giving way to the soft echo of their steps on the concrete floor and the faint scent of metal and cleaning supplies in the air. The hallway is narrow but widens soon into a series of open rooms, stacked with supplies. They are alone here, meeting only a few harried looking assistants hurrying through the space.

Their destination is a small employee kitchen, tucked into the side of a bigger room that is holding what looks to be several half-assembled machines and robots. Even Steve feels the urge to ask about them, having to shake the sensation that he stepped into the future here. Stark navigates the place like there is nothing to it, like he spends all of his days surrounded by this kind of tech. Perhaps he does.

The doctors and technicians they met while fitting Bucky for his prosthetic all had the utmost respect for Stark, which is, in Steve’s experience, not always the case with one’s CEO. The Hammer Industries’ employees were mostly practiced at rolling their eyes.

“We’ve got juice, soda or water,” Stark says as he waltzes into the kitchen, filling the entire room with his lively presence, turning what has been an unremarkable, compact space into something bright. “And coffee for you, Mr. Rogers?”

Steve nods absentmindedly as he puts down their things and watches Peter take a seat. Too late he thinks he should offer Stark to use his first name too if only because Stark was so eager to do it himself. He refrains from it, still not so sure they should even be here.

“Apple juice, please,” Peter says and sits down without hesitation. That ease is enviable but also worries Steve.

Much slower, he follows suit and then watches as Stark pushes different buttons on the coffee machine without even looking at it while getting out two cups and a glass with the other hand. That speaks of long practice and familiarity with the machine. Either Stark spent most of the preparation time for the expo in here, drinking coffee, or he made sure the employee kitchen has a decent machine. Steve is not sure what to do with that piece of information.

After serving their drinks, Stark sits down too. For a brief moment, a tense silent engulfs them, sealing their mouths shut with breathless expectation of what will happen next. At least Steve feels that way as his eyes meet Stark’s across the small table.

Then Peter slurps in his haste to drink before he puts down the glass with a sharp clang, excitement making him careless. That breaks the tension as Stark turns towards Peter.

“Have you ever built a robot yourself?” Stark asks, still giving no sign that he has any ulterior motive other than simply talking to Peter.

Peter, in any case, breaks into quick-paced chatter, determined to make the most of this once-in-a-lifetime chance of meeting the Tony Stark.

It turns out that Steve’s input is not actually needed much. Peter looks at him every now and then as if to make sure he is still there, and the brightness of Stark’s smile is nothing compared to the animated way he talks. His eyes are wrinkling with mirth and his hands fly through the air, drawing the shape of things Steve has never heard of. He always waits for Peter to finish a thought before talking himself.

Steve cannot help but be charmed. He almost even regrets the way he laid into Stark earlier. Almost. Peter’s safety still means more than social niceties. But this is a man who knows how to listen, and who apparently does not care that he is talking to a child. Where other people might praise Peter’s intellect and then turn away, intimidated by someone much younger and smarter than them, Stark appears to really enjoy himself. Despite their unfortunate first meeting, Steve is endeared by that.

He lets them talk, listening to them without taking in the specifics. While he keeps an eye on Stark’s demeanour, ready to get Peter and himself out of there at the slightest hint of a change to the worse, he is glad to have time to just breathe. Away from the crowd, from having to follow Peter’s way through the hall, expecting danger from all sides.

Compared to Bucky, Steve integrated himself back into civilian life with ease. That was mostly thanks to Peggy, so it might not be surprising that he is deteriorating without her.

“You weren’t here yesterday, yes?” Stark asks at some point, obviously including Steve into the question, which snaps Steve back into the present. “Shame, the opening speeches were great, lots of fireworks and new projects.”

Peter’s eyes go wide, then he glances at Steve while biting his lips. “Dad doesn’t like fireworks very much,” he says with audible protectiveness, but Steve also hears the hint of regret at having missed out on something grand. “Or many people in once place.”

“Peter,” Steve says quietly and swallows a sigh. It does not do to announce his weaknesses to the world like that, even though he does not care what Stark thinks of him, of course.

He wishes now he would have let Clint take Peter the day before as was offered, despite his worries that the opening day would be too chaotic, too easily pushed into a disaster.

“I understand,” Stark says, looking at Steve like he truly does, no pity in his eyes, but with a slight grimace as if in remembrance. “Well, then it’s probably good you’ve come today. Although there are still a lot of people here.”

The concern in Stark’s voice is too much. He is a stranger and something like a celebrity. What does he understand of Steve’s problems? Steve keeps his mouth shut, though. He realises he does not always react appropriately when it comes to sore subjects.

“He promised to tell me when he needs to leave.” Leaning forward, Peter adds in a conspiratorial whisper, “I don’t think he will, though. Because I’ve wanted to come here forever.”

Peter knows too much. Perhaps that is due to growing up with loss clinging to them, or because he is smarter than his peers. Steve would not change his son for the world, but he aches for him nonetheless, for that innocence he is already lacking.

“Then it’s my lucky day,” Stark says with an earnestness that Steve cannot find a fault with, no matter how hard he is looking.

Peter giggles and then they are off on another tangent that Steve follows only superficially because he is busy watching Stark’s face. As far as Steve can tell, he does not just pretend his interest in what Peter has to tell. His face lights up while talking and it is easy to see ideas forming behind his eyes even while he listens to everything Peter has to say.

Steve does not trust it one bit. As head of Stark Industries’ R&D department, Stark must be surrounded by brilliant people all day, people he can talk about actual science with instead of listening to the excited rambling of a child. This is no doubt a dream come true for Peter, but Steve cannot help but wait for the other shoe to drop.

“I could give you a tour of our research labs at some point,” Stark says, much to Steve’s chagrin. It will be impossible to get that wish out of Peter’s head again. “We’re always glad to have some bright minds over.”

With all this talk about robots and science, and meeting one of his heroes, it should be impossible for Peter to become even more excited. But there he is, his spine shooting straight and he whirls his head around to Steve, eyes gleaming with sudden want.

“Can we, Dad?” he asks, almost breathless as if he is imagining running towards Stark Tower this very moment. “That would be the greatest thing ever.”

Steve knows he has to refuse. If he were to agree and then this never happens, because Stark is obviously just being nice and will forget about them the moment they step out of the door, Peter would be crushed.

“I’m not sure,” Steve says and immediately cursing himself for being unable to break his son’s heart. It should not be so hard to say no. “I’d have to see whether it fits in my schedule.”

Stark’s expression changes minutely. If Steve had not been looking at him, he would have missed it. For just a moment, his smile turns strained and his eyes stray to something only he can see. Just a second later, he is back in the present like nothing happened, his smile bright again.

“The offer stands,” Stark says, voice full of cheer that sounds genuine despite the momentary lapse in composure.

This is the time to go, Steve realises, as long as Stark is still interested instead of throwing glances at the clock and decides they have overstayed their welcome. As long as this is still a pleasant experience for everyone.

“Thank you for the coffee,” Steve says as he gets to his feet, managing a companionable tone despite his doubts of Stark’s motives.

To his surprise, Peter does not protest. Then again, Peter already knows that nothing lasts forever. He might be disappointed that his time with Stark is coming to an end already, but he has learned to be happy with what he gets. It hurts that his son has had to learn that lesson already. Losing his mother does that to a child.

“I have to thank you for the stimulating conversation,” Stark says with a flourish as he gets up too and offers his hand to Peter, who takes it with all the unbridled enthusiasm of a child performing an inherently adult ritual.

Making a split-second decision, Steve turns towards his son, and says, “Why don’t you run ahead, Peter. I’ll be right behind you.”

He sees Peter’s hesitation, sees that Peter knows exactly that this is code for I want to talk without you listening in. Still, he does not protest but walks off with a wave and a last, brilliant smile.

Stark knows too what is going on. They are watching Peter vanish down the hall before Steve nods at the way and starts walking slowly. He notices that Stark’s expression has become more cautious and takes that as validation for taking him aside.

“Why are you doing this?” Steve asks, diving right in. He does not believe in subterfuge.

It might be because Steve is looking for a negative reaction, but he sees Stark’s shoulders stiffening and sees it as an admission of guilt.

“You’ll have to be more specific than that,” Stark says, no bite in his tone. His gaze is sharp, however, when he directs it at Steve. “Why do I organise such a big expo and then don’t make my company the main contributor? Why am I spending time backstage instead of flashing my smile on a stage somewhere? Why –”

“Why did you take the time to come back here with us?” Steve interrupts. He has neither the patience nor the temperament for these games. “You must have more pressing things to do than to talk science on an elementary school level.”

Stark leans slightly away from him, almost offended. Then he realises what he is doing and smooths his expression into something neutral but cool. Considering how freely he has given his smiles up to this point, Steve feels a strange loss.

“First off, your son is way beyond elementary school,” Stark says curtly, leaving no doubt that he means it. “I’m not saying you should make him skip grades because look how that turned out for me, but he would definitely do well with some extracurricular classes.”

That sounded almost self-deprecating, Steve notices that even over the glow of hearing his son complimented. He is a simple man and his family is the most important thing in the world for him. Yet, it immediately rankles him to hear Stark talk about himself like that, if only in hints.

“And why I’m here instead of getting sore wrists from shaking hands with all those important people out there? This,” Stark continues and gestures at their surroundings, the robot parts and the expo beyond. “This is my day job. Organising projects and talking to people who are more than convinced of their own genius. The science always comes in second place.” He pauses, his eyes dark and earnest on Steve. “Children are different. They are still excited to learn new things, to learn the way of the world. It is nice to talk to someone who still cares about the things I love.”

He sounds honest. If the public estimation of Stark’s genius is correct, he might remember what it was like as a child to always be talked down to by adults, even when he probably knew more than them.

Steve finds he wants to believe Stark. Yet, he crosses his arms in front of him. “That sounds like a nonsense sob story.”

He regrets his words the moment he watches Stark withdraw. Even without the smile, Stark had been open with Steve, engaged in a way that disappears immediately as his expression shutters closed. Suddenly, the skin of Stark’s face seems too tight as it becomes a mask of polite disinterest. It feels like an acute loss.

“Then you’ve never sat through a budgeting meeting where people tell you we can’t make certain improvements to, say, our prosthetic line because that would cost too much money,” Stark says coolly, then clicks his tongue in impatient disappointment. “Helping others has become as much of a profit-seeking business as anything else.”

The air between them is now tense and awkward. Steve stands by his decision to question Stark’s motives but is thoroughly uncomfortable with the result. Compared to the person standing before him now, it seems ridiculous that he thought Stark’s interactions with Peter were not honest.

“Thank you for sitting down with Peter,” Steve says, knowing he cannot salvage the situation but wanting to offer an olive branch, anyway. He does not like being cruel, but it feels like he crushed Stark.

“It was my pleasure,” Stark answers. “And do think about having that tour.”

Steve will not, but he does not say that. Stark appears to be genuine, but that does not mean Steve will abandon all sense. Nothing good can come of nursing Peter’s hopes only to have Stark forget about them the moment they walk out of that door.

He is surprised when Stark offers his hand again but takes it nonetheless. As he walks out, he decides to take this as a good thing, a positive experience for Peter.

By the time the door falls shut behind him, he is convinced he will never see Tony Stark again.

#marveltrumpshate #stony #tony stark #fanfiction #steve rogers #marvel #single dad steve #getting together #not a meet cute #my writing #ao3

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jahaanofmenaphos · 4 years

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Art by the awesome @tommieglenn!

Of Gods and Men Summary:

When the gods returned to Gielinor, their minds were only on one thing: the Stone of Jas, a powerful elder artefact in the hands of Sliske, a devious Mahjarrat who stole it for his own ends and entertainment. He claims to want to incite another god wars, but are his ulterior motives more sinister than that? And can the World Guardian, Jahaan, escape from under Sliske’s shadow?

Read the full work here:

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QUEST 11: SLISKE’S ENDGAME

QUEST SUMMARY:

The eclipse is nigh. The end of Sliske’s games draws near. All the gods gather for one final race for the Stone, taking them through a shadowy labyrinth of the devious Mahjarrat’s design. Not only does Jahaan have to survive the trials Sliske sets out for them, but he has to compete against every major deity in Gielinor. Then, and only then, will he have a shot at ending Sliske’s madness once and for all…

CHAPTER 8 - THE OTHER SIDE

As soon as all the gods were spat out of the labyrinth and into the sweltering desert heat, Seren informed the gathered crowd about the fate of the Stone, and how the World Guardian and Sliske were left behind when it exploded. Though it was implied that they would have perished, Icthlarin knew otherwise, as did Death.

Zamorak and Saradomin left soon after, not caring to spend anymore time among one another’s company than they had to. The Stone - their prize for these tedious games - had been destroyed, therefore what was the point in remaining?

Armadyl decided to stay. When he noticed Icthlarin and Death hadn’t left, he didn’t want to either. Their presence meant there was still hope for Jahaan. He discussed with his avianse about the feasibility of tunneling down to provide the World Guardian with some assistance. Even though it was agreed that such a feat was impossible, Armadyl refused to leave until he saw either Jahaan or Sliske emerge from below. He prayed it was the former.

Seren stayed too, as did Zaros. If Sliske was the one to crawl out from the depths below, they wanted to be the first to greet him.

After what felt like an age had passed, Zaros suddenly vanished. There was no teleport spell cast - he just vanished. Naturally, panic and paranoia followed, Azzanadra nearly coming to blows with the elves that guarded Seren. He was convinced she had something to do with his disappearance, despite her affirmation that she knew nothing and there was no evidence suggesting otherwise. It took Armadyl and Icthlarin to quell the tension, but they barely managed it.

After only a few minutes, Zaros blinked back into the gathering like he’d returned from a ripple in existence, though considerably angrier than when he left. Seren tried to call out to him, but he simply stormed over to his entourage and teleported away with them, a dark cloud lingering where he left.

Not long after that, Jahaan returned to them.

Or at least, what was left of him.

Jahaan was conscious when he hit the ground, though that sharp return of his agony made him wish he wasn’t. What happened next, however, barely registered for him - the dirt and tears in his eyes, coupled with the deafening ringing in his ears, made focusing impossible. All he could concentrate on was the pain, hoping it would get to the stage where he would black out from it. At least then he wouldn’t have to endure it.

Instead, he felt hands grab at him, rolling him over. He didn’t realise just how much blood he was lying in. An involuntary, blood-curdling shriek escaped from his lips when hands tried to put pressure on the wound.

He felt a cool ice coat his abdomen, a subtle pressure attached to it - a female voice followed it. Seren had temporarily stopped the bleeding with a layer of crystal. Not that Jahaan noticed. All he felt was a nauseating jolt as he was lifted up into the air, head-spinning and limbs crying out in protest.

Seren told the others to follow her to Prifddinas, which to Jahaan was nothing more than an echoed mumble. Whenever he was going, he hoped a bed was on the other side of it. A nice, warm bed… can’t I just sleep now?

Fortunately for Jahaaan, he got his wish.

The spell was intended to comatose the World Guardian during the operation. Elven medicine was far superior to anything else on Gielinor, therefore Seren knew Jahaan’s best chances were with her. But there was a lot of blood lost already, alongside damage to the small intestine, some of which would have to be removed. It would take days to see if the procedure had worked, and Jahaan’s condition could deteriorate in a matter of hours if they had missed a source of internal infection. Herbal remedies were infused into him to keep his vitals stable and to provide nutrients.

Whenever Jahaan was awake, he wasn’t ever ‘there’. Some delirious mumbles, a glazed expression, and a refusal to eat. Then, he would fall asleep again, sometimes for the rest of the day.

The chief healer, Lady Heledd, estimated that he would be sitting up, talking and eating within five days. Eight had passed, and all he did was sleep. Often, Jahaan would talk in his sleep, a crude blend of languages, some that even Lady Heledd and the other healers didn’t recognise.

Heads turned whenever Icthlarin and Death visited the affirmed, and assurances had to be made that, if they were there to claim Jahaan’s soul, they wouldn’t be coming in through the front door.

While Icthlarin was unaware of when Jahaan would pass, he knew that Death held that information. Death knew the ‘when’ and ‘how’ for every being on Gielinor. Of course, Death never parted with this information, not even to Icthlarin. Doing so would ‘upset the balance’, he would always say. Icthlarin couldn’t resent his friend for doing his duties, but hated not knowing if the next time he saw Jahaan would be in the Underworld. Not that Jahaan wanted to go through the Underworld, or to an afterlife. Icthlarin knew that, if the time came, he would have to respect the World Guardian’s decision.

Jahaan was never awake for their visits, nor was he awake for the handful of times Armadyl dropped in on him. The avianse deity had diligently stayed at his bedside, sometimes for hours on end, never getting anything more than a delirious groan from the World Guardian. Despite trusting the elves and elven medicine, Armadyl invited Gaw’kara to join him in a visit to Jahaan’s hospital room, just to see if he had a different take on Jahaan’s condition. Unfortunately, he didn’t, reaffirming what Lady Heledd and the elven healers had told them: time will tell.

When Jahaan slept for thirty-six hours straight, having to be kept alive by the constant chanting of an air spell to assist his breathing, there was the fear he might never wake up.

Until he did.

Groggily, Jahaan dragged himself back into consciousness, blinking away the haziness of his vision and trying to sharpen up the world around him. It was bright, very bright. Everything seemed to shine, like the walls were made of pure cyan crystal. It reminded him of Prifddinas, or what little he had seen of it.

Has Icthlarin accidentally taken me to Seren’s afterlife? Jahaan thought to himself, though reconsidered the likelihood after trying to sit up slightly and feeling a searing pain in his abdomen. Surely the afterlife doesn’t come with lasting agony?

Then, he heard a voice beside him, “Don’t move. I’ll get Lady Heledd.”

A brush of turquoise flittered past his vision. Soon after, a tall elven woman with curled blonde hair tied into a high bob entered the room. Her gown was white and pristine with a turquoise diamond emblazoned on it.

“Where am I?” Jahaan hoarsely whispered, his croaky throat coughing with the effort. A straw was forced near his mouth, and Jahaan hungrily sipped down the contents like he hadn’t drunk in months. More coughing followed.

“Steady on, love,” the pointy-eared healer cooed. Her warm voice was reassurance incarnate. “You’re alright now. Can you tell me your name?”

“Jahaan,” the World Guardian replied, needing to take a deep breath as he continued, “Jahaan Siad-Samak.”

“Alrighty Jahaan, and can you tell me your age?” Lady Heledd asked with a soft tone you’d usually use when addressing a child. In fact, she continued on with about a dozen more questions Jahaan deemed as asinine, his repeating inquiries as to his location ignored every time.

“I don’t understand why you won’t tell me what’s going on,” Jahaan huffed, feeling slightly more invigorated now. Not enough to move, no. But enough to sound slightly irate. “Where am I?”

Setting down the notebook she’d been penning his answers into, alongside other comments and remarks, Lady Heledd perched on the bed beside Jahaan with the friendliest smile he’d ever seen. She probably gave this smile to everyone, but Jahaan wanted to think that it was reserved purely for him. “You’re in Prifddinas, love, in hospital. You’ve been out a while. I needed to ask all those questions to make sure you were fully with me this time.” “Fully with you?” Jahaan queried at the odd turn of phrase. “What do you mean? How long was I out?”

“Just under two weeks, dear,” Lady Heledd replied. “You’ve been awake before now, but you weren’t all that responsive, talking slightly delirious and all that.”

Jahaan tried to run his mind back over the last two weeks, but came up empty. He remembered nothing from that period. He forced his mind back further, but it was a mighty effort.

The labyrinth, the fight, the stab, he winced at the last one, tying it to the ache in his stomach. Then, his eyes widened. “Jas!”

“Steady on, dear,” Lady Heledd held him down as he bolted up in bed, the World Guardian instantly regretting the action, crumbling back into the bedsheets with an extended groan. “What’s this ‘Jas’ anyhow?”

Panting from the exertion, Jahaan said, “I need to talk to Seren.”

“World Guardian!” Seren cheerily greeted when she glided into the room. “I’m glad to see you compos-mentis.”

There were pressing concerns on Jahaan’s mind, one’s he wanted to share urgently before they were forgotten in the depths of his memory. But naturally, he first wanted to say, “Thank you for everything you have done for me, Seren. It sounds like you saved my life.”

“My elves saved your life,” Seren corrected, humbly. “It was touch and go at some points, I must say. But it’s a relief you pulled through. Your death would have been a loss for all of Gielinor, after all you have done. What happened down there, after the Stone exploded?”

Briefly, Jahaan informed Seren about the battle with Sliske and how the drain on the Mahjarrat’s energy weakened him severely. He told of how he was stabbed by the Staff of Armadyl, and how Sliske stabbed himself too, no doubt trying to forcefully siphon Jahaan’s soul into himself. But, for some reason, the process failed, and Sliske turned to stone.

Then, he finally arrived at what he needed to tell her the most, about his meeting with Jas.

After the tale ended, the elven deity was rendered speechless.

Jahaan had to prompt her, “What should be done?”

Seren gulped. “I… am not quite sure. I am not surprised at my brother’s attempt to ascend to elder godhood, and I am glad he was denied. But Jas said that mortal life has to prove it is worthy of existing, or the Great Revision will commence again… how do we prove ourselves to a being that considers mortal life a mistake? How can we...”

Her tone became faint, trailing off towards the end. To Seren, she had been burdened with the task of ensuring all life in the universe continued. To Jahaan, he’d relieved himself of the issue for now. No doubt it would weigh on him at a later date, but for now, tiredness was crawling back into his mind, his eyes suddenly feeling a whole lot heavier.

After a few minutes of solemn contemplation, Seren noticed her audience was waning. “I shall leave you to rest. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll be up for an audience? Icthlarin has been visiting repeatedly, much to the disconcertion of the elves.”

“I’d like that,” Jahaan said with a faint smile before allowing his eyes to close.

When Icthlarin walked through into his room the next day, Jahaan was finally sitting up and managing to get some soup down him. Solid foods were still too much of a struggle, and his appetite was far from its usual self, but this soup was divine. Never had hospital food tasted so damn good. Maybe it was because he hadn’t eaten much of anything in a fortnight, but this soup was one of the finest culinary delights he had ever had the pleasure of enjoying. This was a hill he was prepared to die on.

“Icthlarin!” Jahaan grinned, the soup’s warmth and happiness increasing his mood tenfold. “I must be the only human alive who’s glad to see the god of the underworld.”

“It is good to see you here, alive and almost in one piece, my friend,” Icthlarin replied, a broad smile that revealed his large canines. It soon faded, however, as he said, “I… apologise for the state I was in during Sliske’s labyrinth. I am embarrassed you had to see me like that.”

“Don’t apologise,” Jahaan fervently finished up the last of the soup. “I’m just glad you’re back to your usual self now. Can’t say the same for me though. Lady Heledd - the chief healer here - thinks I’m going to be bedridden for a while.”

Jahaan didn’t frankly care, as long as he had his soup.

Naturally, Icthlarin was curious as to what occurred after he was ejected from the maze, and Jahaan regaled him with the tale in full. Afterwards, there was a prevailing question on Jahaan’s mind he had to ask, even if the subject loomed over his good mood like rain clouds threatening to burst.

Mentally preparing himself, he breathed deeply before asking, “How was Ozan when you saw him?”

Icthlarin furrowed his brow. “Ozan?”

“You remember Ozan, don’t you?” Jahaan checked, slightly puzzled. The two had met on adventures in the past, and Icthlarin never forgot a face. “He was one of Sliske’s wights. He’d have passed onto the afterlife after Sliske died, right?”

“I remember Ozan well, but he never passed into my domain.”

For a brief moment, Jahaan could have sworn he felt his heart stop. “C-Can you explain that?”

“I… I do not know how,” Icthlarin looked as concerned as he did confused. “If Ozan was bound to Sliske as a wight, Sliske’s death should have released Ozan’s soul. That is the natural order of things.”

Jahaan didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to dare get his hopes up. The pain of having them crash down around him might finish him off for good. And yet, he couldn’t help himself. “Are you saying… Ozan’s alive?”

“I can only confirm that he is not dead,” Icthlarin spoke slowly, like he was calculating equations in his mind, ones that were written in a language he couldn’t quite decipher. “At least, not fully. Perhaps he is still trapped as a wight, but that should not be possible. He should-”

He was interrupted by a tight hand squeezing his own. Jahaan bolted upright in bed, wide eyes showing more signs of life than they ever had. “Can you find him for me? P-Please, I… I need to see him, please can you try to find him?”

Features softening, Icthlarin rested a paw on top of Jahaan’s hand. “I shall try, my friend.”

When Icthlarin shut the door to Jahaan’s room, he leant back against the firm mahogany, his thoughts trying to catch up with him. Indeed, Ozan was still on this world - something the god of the underworld just knew. But how? Icthlarin never saw the man as a wight, but if indeed that was the fate that befell him, Sliske’s death would have released the man into his domain.

Something was off. Something was also off about Jahaan, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. There was just a smell around him, something about his usual scent that didn’t match.

Rubbing his temples, Icthlarin resolved to sleep on the matter, then locate Ozan in the morning. Perhaps by talking to him, Ozan could shed some light on the situation.

The next evening, Jahaan heard the swish of a teleport spell land outside his door and the faint mumblings of Icthlarin’s voice. When he spoke to the elves, he spoke in elven, so Jahaan had no idea what was being said.

But Jahaan didn’t care what they were talking about. All he could think about was if Icthlarin had brought company with him.

Scrambling to sit up in bed, Jahaan’s heart beat faster and faster, making a home inside of his throat. The anticipation was killing him.

Then, after one twist of the door handle, his heart threatened to burst.

Ozan walked through the door.

He was still a ghostly green, translucent in some places, with robes that seemed decayed and withered. In fact, he looked exactly the same as he did in Sliske’s chasm, though thankfully without the damage to his legs that Jahaan had inflicted.

Both men just stared at each other in disbelief for too long, debating the chance that the other was a mirage.

Eventually though, Ozan plucked up the courage to remark, “Wow, finally someone that looks worse than me.”

Jahaan practically choked on his own tears as he started to laugh. Just to hear Ozan’s voice again made all of this worth it. Every single memory he’d be forced to relive, every single injury he’d have to endure for the rest of his life… Ozan made it all worth it.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Jahaan stammered through the tears, desperately trying to wipe them away with his bedsheets.

“Neither can I,” Ozan laughed, nervously scratching the back of his head. He was never good with hospitals - they freaked him out, but he tried his best to hide that fact through a broad smirk. “Now, you aren’t going to break if I hug you, right?”

Grinning, Jahaan beckoned him over. But as soon as Ozan embraced him, the man recoiled suddenly, inhaling a sharp breath.

Jahaan froze. “Are you okay, Ozan?”

Gulping, Ozan’s hand slowly moved to gently rub his neck, taking a tentative step backwards. “Didn’t you feel that?”

“Feel… what?”

“That… shock,” Ozan cleared his throat, exhaling a shaky breath. Shaking his head, he tried to chuckle, “Maybe it’s the side effects of being dead?”

Jahaan forced a faint laugh, but he was unnerved by the scared look in his friend’s eyes.

The two talked for ages long after that, but Ozan sat firmly on the other side of the room, as far away from Jahaan as possible. For a man with no sense of personal space, it was rather concerning, but Jahaan refused to think too much about it. He had his best friend back - nothing else mattered.

“I just woke up back at the Barrows,” Ozan recalled. “I didn’t have that grip on me anymore - I had control again, free will. The others were there too, Ahrim and Dharok… all of them felt the same way. Sliske’s hold over us had gone.”

Jahaan replied, “I’m just confused… when Sliske died, you should have passed on, not be trapped on Gielinor.”

“Icthlarin said the same thing when he found us,” Ozan informed. “Said he had no idea why we were still here. He offered to take our souls to the afterlife though, if we wanted it, since we were already dead and all. Some of the Brothers are considering it.”

“What about you?” Jahaan tried not to sound nervous.

Fortunately, Ozan’s grin reassured him. “Oh I’m not going anywhere. A world without Ozan would be a very dreary place indeed.”

More guests visited him throughout his weeks in bedrest, but Ozan was the regular, bringing him books and sneaking Coal in to visit him when the healers weren’t looking. The man had gone back to the Wizards’ Tower and received a tearful reunion with Ariane, which warmed Jahaan’s heart. He and Ariane had shared their differences in the past, but she made Ozan happy, and that was all that mattered.

It took severe persuading from the city’s elders, but eventually, upon Seren’s insistence, Azzanadra was allowed to visit Jahaan. Not that the Mahjarrat was pleased at all with having to enter Seren's domain. In fact, he loathed the idea. But he felt a duty to Jahaan to at least visit him once. If the World Guardian can fight alongside him in a Mahjarrat Ritual, this was the least he could do.

But he didn’t stay long. In fact, as soon as he entered Jahaan's hospital room, he wanted to leave. Something was not quite right. There was a feeling, a pull, a familiar presence lingering… like a ghost trapped within the walls.

Azzanadra listened intently to the story of what happened after he was cast out of the labyrinth, trying not to let his stony features betray the trepidation he felt.

One part of the story stuck with him, however, threatening to bring his darkest theories to light.

“Which end of the Staff did he stab you with, again?” Azzanadra checked, biting on the inside of his cheek

“The bottom part,” Jahaan replied, “Thank the gods he did. If I got stabbed with those wing things on the top, well…”

It was as Azzanadra feared. He had seen the work of the Staff, the Siphon, first hand before. Memories of the Empty Throne Room and Zaros’ assassination by the Staff were still fresh in his mind, just like it happened yesterday. Zamorak had used the Staff to siphon power from Zaros into himself. Sliske must have intended to use it to extract Jahaan’s soul, but instead he made a fatal error.

Wahisietel did not want to visit Jahaan.

Jahaan understood. The wound was too fresh; he would not want an audience with the man who was effectively his half-brother’s murderer. If Wahisietel would accept him, Jahaan would visit him when he could, explain what happened, and apologise for the role he was forced to play.

It would take time, Azzanadra had told him. The Mahjarrat had visited Wahisietel in his Nardah home to find the place a wreck, and Wahisietel himself was in no fit state.

“Can you tell him...” Jahaan started to ask Azzanadra, but was unsure how to sum up everything he wanted to say in just one sentence. “Just… can you tell him I’d like to see him at some point, and that I’m sorry.”

The words would sound hollow to Wahisietel. ‘Sorry’? Would ‘sorry’ bring back the only family he’d had for generations?

Jahaan quite enjoyed his time confined to bed rest. For once in gods knew how long, there was no weight inside his chest, no looming shadow of Sliske to cloud over his mind. Responsibilities could take a back seat. He had earned his repose.

Of course, there was the issue of the elder gods’ ultimatum to prove that life was worth existing, but Jahaan decided he’d cross that bridge when he had to. In fact, from how he felt right now, Jahaan was rather content with never crossing that bridge. He’d been Gielinor’s hero enough for one lifetime - someone else could take over the role for all he minded.

Yes, the idea of retirement seemed pretty good right now…

...until Jahaan heard a disembodied laugh rattle through his mind.

DISCLAIMER:

As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.

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flying-elliska · 5 years

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rewatching bits of s3 and it still amazes me how much the dynamic between Eliott and Lucas, the way we perceive them - and the whole tone of the show changes so much over such a short amount of time (for a series). Like they go through more character developpment in a few hours than some characters on those ‘more than 10 seasons 24 episodes of 40 min’ series in their whole run - it’s incredible. All credit to og of course but here it’s even more obvious because of how expressive they are.

We first meet Lucas as a smooth asshole, but really he’s a closeted gay guy who can’t cope. (and we know from previous seasons that he’s a snake, but also that he has family problems.) Sometimes he comes over as a misogynistic idiot who uses girls and lies to his friends and takes stupid internet comments as a guideline. But we also see him as a sensitive, caring soul that has a lot of wisdom for his age. We see him saying horrible things out of internalized prejudice and fear. We see him being brave despite the risks and facing fears. We see him putting on a cold front, punching a gate in despair, fuming with rage, and we see him bawling his eyes out because everything is just too much. We see him feeling betrayed, afraid of being played, closing himself off, and we see him opening so fast under Eliott’s affection, eager and unbelieving he can actually be worthy of so much love. We see him being so deeply uncomfortable with anything related to being gay or sexuality and we see him straight up bang his boyfriend at school in an explosion of rainbow colors and kiss him out in the open the next day. We see him high on love and then absolutely panicking the next moment. One moment he’s dealing badly by getting plastered and saying ignorant things about mental illness, and the next he shows how willing he is to listen and be educated. We’ve seen ignoring his mother’s weird ass religious texts and call her crazy in front of people, and later we see him embrace her, come out to her and receive her love in return, and understand her through realizing he’s got his own version of faith in love. We see him doubting and jealous all season, and we see him putting the pieces together and realizing how much Eliott loves him and how much he loves Eliott - enough to face potential ups and downs and fears and whatever else. We see him rash and mean and petty, and we see him caring and sweet and deeply compassionate and making choices opposites to that of his asshole of a father. We see him isolated and we see him surrounded by love, because he dared to open up and it was so, so worth it. We see him own up to his own flaws and work for a relationship that is a true partnership.

And Eliott - goes from mysterious heartthrob new guy to weird but endearing dork, to intensely seductive and unafraid to come out straight away, to unreliable guy with the mixed messages and potentially something a bit dark going on, to pure romantic and potential soulmate, to cheating asshole, to even more mixed messages and sad drawings and wtf, to artsy earnest fuckboi who’s messed up but can get it anyway, to sweet and over-the-top demonstrative boyfriend, to troubled and a source of angst and heartbreak, to “really just like everyone else, except a little different”, to definitely Lucas’ soulmate, fuck everything else, to just a sweet boy in love.

And there are so many characters in the background that go through their own little journeys - Yann, Basile, Daphné, Manon, Mika....that’s why I love Skam, and Skam France in particular, so so so much, because this style of storytelling is just so damn efficient and good, does so much with so little in an age of constant bloat and filler and shows and franchises that go on forever and don’t fucking know how to maintain tension effectively or be consistent in their character development, and dialogues that have no real point and repetitive tropes and other lazy shit.

And we can see signs of this in s4 too - Imane is a badass and a fighter, but she’s also a girl who wants to be loved and is insecure about her place in the world. She’s so caring about her friends and she is very principled about not judging people, but she’s really damn good at lying on the spot. Her family seems loving, but also full of miscommunication and distance. It often seems like her friends don’t see her, not really. She has a very good sense of humor but it also seems she puts on this tough façade that’s not really her at times, and that’s she’s one hell of a perfectionnist. So much more to come.

Catch me here yelling about character work all day ! I love this writer’s team so much, and all the rest on how they put it in motion !

#skam france #elu #imane bakhellal #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury

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kristopherscollins · 4 years

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Relationship Quotes About Trust And It Is Everything In Relationships

Before we dive into relationship quotes about trust lets understand what is relationship with and without trust and how to build or regain the trust in relationship.

Trust is the foundation of a relationship.

A person gradually learns to trust from childhood, observing an example of the relationship of his parents and people close to him. A pleasant homely atmosphere, harmonious and trusting relationships between family members, bring up the inner core in the child, form a self-sufficient and holistic personality.

Education in an environment of distrust and blame makes a person suspicious, who finds it difficult to open up and trust others.

Trust has its extreme degree of expression – it is gullibility and distrust. Too open and gullible people often fall prey to relationships. Then they are afraid that they will be deceived, trying to avoid extreme manifestations of feelings and emotions.

It then becomes challenging for such people to create healthy relationships based on trust. They become incredulous. It is challenging to trust extremely trusting people, it is even more difficult to trust incredulous people. Therefore, it is so important to learn internal trust, which will be the key to creating a healthy and healthy relationship based on trust.

Confidence in relationships can be in pairs, where everyone knows how to trust not only their partner but also themselves. Internal distrust generates such negative feelings and emotions as reproaches, suspicions, and even jealousy.

Relationship Quotes About Trust And It Is Everything In Relationships

Relationship Quotes About Trust

“Relationships are mysterious. We doubt the positive qualities in others, seldom the negative. You will say to your partner: do you really love me? Are you sure you love me? You will ask this a dozen times and drive the person nuts. But you never ask: are you really mad at me? Are you sure you’re angry? When someone is angry, you don’t doubt it for a moment. Yet the reverse should be true. We should doubt the negative in life, and have faith in the positive.” – Christopher Pike

“You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you will live in torment if you don’t trust enough.” – Frank Crane

“Deciding whether or not to trust a person is like deciding whether or not to climb a tree because you might get a wonderful view from the highest branch or you might simply get covered in sap and for this reason many people choose to spend their time alone and indoors where it is harder to get a splinter.” – Lemony Snicket

“Trust is not an obsession, it’s an extension of love. When we truly love someone, we give them our heart to hold in their hands. And when that love is returned, that very trust is balm to our souls.” – Julie Lessman

“Love doesn’t hurt. It may sting sometimes, but if it hurts, it’s because you have given your trust to the wrong person.”

“We always see our worst selves. Our most vulnerable selves. We need someone else to get close enough to tell us we’re wrong. Someone we trust.” – David Levithan

“You see, you closed your eyes. That was the difference. Sometimes you cannot believe what you see, you have to believe what you feel. And if you are ever going to have other people trust you, you must feel that you can trust them, too–even when you’re in the dark. Even when you’re falling.” – Mitch Albom

“Trust is the glue of life. It’s the most essential ingredient in effective communication. It’s the foundational principle that holds all relationships.” – Stephen Covey

“He who does not trust enough will not be trusted.” — Lao Tzu

“Trust your hunches. They’re usually based on facts.” — Dr. Joyce Brothers

Continue reading for more relationship quotes on trust

Relationship without trust

With the appearance of distrust in a relationship, a feeling of love is often dulled due to frequent quarrels, misunderstandings and reproaches. For strong relationships, it is necessary to identify the main causes of uncertainty and mistrust.

Often people do not notice how little attention they pay to their partner, in turn, demanding excessive attention to themselves. Claims contribute to the first manifestation of distrust of the partner.

Obsessive, suspicious thoughts only exacerbate the situation, and in the end, a conflict arises. The reason for this distrust is contrived thoughts, actions and feelings that partners attribute to each other. Therefore, you should not go in cycles in trifles and do not wind up itself.

It is better to recognize the true reason for your mistrust, share your doubts with your loved one, and show sincere interest and attention to each other.

Another source of distrust in relationships may be unjustified expectations. This happens when, first, love does not appear for another person, but for your feeling of love. Often this happens in couples in which one partner has long loved the other unrequitedly. Dreams and dreams about a loved one absorb a person so much that already in a relationship with him (when love for another comes) he tries to realize all his dreams. This is what leads to mistrust of the partner’s feelings.

Starting a new relationship, a person strives for harmony. Only often the euphoria of the first meetings is replaced by sadness, alienation, lack of understanding, constant suspicions, and doubts.

Relationship with and without trust

What are the true causes of doubt and mistrust?

1. The most common cause of doubt, most often, is a failed past experience. Try to forget the past, start, as they say, from scratch.

2. Questionable behavior of the partner or his superficial attitude towards you can also cause suspicions, doubts and distrust.

3. Internal complexes and the lack of healthy self-esteem are fertile soil for the emergence of distrust of the partner.

4. Doubts and suspicion can also arise without reason. If, for example, the partner suffers from pathological jealousy. The reason for this may be internal self-doubt, improper upbringing, etc.

5. Own lies, betrayals and dishonest behavior. Paradoxically, but it is precisely such reasons that can make a person doubt the decency of another.

Constant nervous tension invariably leads to stresses that are bad for the general state of health, cause insomnia and a host of other troubles. Yes, and the relationship without trust ends pretty quickly and not always peacefully. Sometimes mistrust makes a partner very difficult in everyday communication; he becomes overly suspicious, grumpy, which is also a common cause of the breakup of stable couples.

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“Always trust your gut. It knows what your head hasn’t figured out yet.”

“Without trust, it’s only a matter of time before relationships crumble.”

“After years of marriage, I have learned one thing: Trust a woman’s intuition before a man’s undeniable logic.”

“Have enough courage to trust love one more time and always one more time.” – Maya Angelou

“The best proof of love is trust.” – Joyce Brothers

Continue reading for more relationship quotes on trust

How to regain trust in a relationship?

First, learn to trust in the little things. Stop checking your partner for honesty. Think about whether you yourself are honest to the end. Leave the partner and the right to non-complaint.

Understand the reasons for your distrust. Are you annoyed about a particular partner’s behavior? Do not like looking towards a certain person? Confused by the late return home? Positively discuss everything with your loved one. Perhaps, to all your doubts about your partner’s feelings, there is an entirely objective explanation.

Understand that love is a free decision and has nothing to do with slavery.

All troubles have their own solution – this is the main principle, even if the worst suspicions are confirmed.

Talk frankly with your partner about your doubts. Probably, he will easily dismiss all accumulated suspicions.

A positive attitude helps to find mutual understanding, and a good sense of humor will help defuse the situation.

read the following relationship quotes about trust and try to follow.

How to regain trust in a relationship?

Relationship Quotes On Trust

“When you completely trust a person without any doubt, you’ll automatically receive one of two things — a friend for life or a lesson for life.”

“Self-trust is the first secret of success.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.” – William Shakespeare

“Trust is one of the most important things in a relationship. It won’t work, if you don’t trust each other.”

“Honesty is the first chapter in the book of wisdom.” — Buddha

“Hold the vision. Trust the process.”

“Wisdom is found only in truth.” — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Click here to know about how to build trust and strengthen your relationship.

“Trust in someone means that we no longer have to protect ourselves. We believe we will not be hurt or harmed by the other, at least not deliberately. We trust his or her good intentions, though we know we might be hurt by the way circumstances play out between us. We might say that hurt happens; it’s a given of life. Harm is inflicted; it’s a choice some people make.” – David Richo

“Betrayal is the worst… and the key to moving past it is to identify what led up to it in the first place.”

“I’m not upset that you lied to me, I’m upset that from now on I can’t believe you.” – Friedrich Nietzsche

“There is only one way to rebuild trust once it has been broken: over time.”

“Trust. It is like placing a blade in someone’s hand and setting the very point to your heart.” – Cassandra Clare

“If you want to do really important things in life and big things in life, you can’t do anything by yourself. And your best teams are your friends and your siblings.” — Deepak Chopra

“Love cannot live where there is no trust.” – Edith Hamilton

“To be trusted is a greater compliment than being loved.” – George MacDonald

“Everyone suffers at least one bad betrayal in their lifetime. It’s what unites us. The trick is not to let it destroy your trust in others when that happens. Don’t let them take that from you.” – Sherrilyn Kenyon

“The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.” – Ernest Hemingway

“Trust and faith bring joy to life and help relationships grow to their maximum potential.” – Joyce Meyer

“If you love them and they love you, trust them and don’t worry about it. If you don’t trust them, what are you doing with them?”

“I trust you” is better than “I love you” because you may not always trust the person you love but you can always love the person you trust.”

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jessicafwatkins · 4 years

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Relationship Quotes About Trust And It Is Everything In Relationships

Before we dive into relationship quotes about trust lets understand what is relationship with and without trust and how to build or regain the trust in relationship.

Trust is the foundation of a relationship.

Education in an environment of distrust and blame makes a person suspicious, who finds it difficult to open up and trust others.

Relationship Quotes About Trust And It Is Everything In Relationships

Relationship Quotes About Trust

“You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you will live in torment if you don’t trust enough.” – Frank Crane

“Love doesn’t hurt. It may sting sometimes, but if it hurts, it’s because you have given your trust to the wrong person.”

“We always see our worst selves. Our most vulnerable selves. We need someone else to get close enough to tell us we’re wrong. Someone we trust.” – David Levithan

“Trust is the glue of life. It’s the most essential ingredient in effective communication. It’s the foundational principle that holds all relationships.” – Stephen Covey

“He who does not trust enough will not be trusted.” — Lao Tzu

“Trust your hunches. They’re usually based on facts.” — Dr. Joyce Brothers

Continue reading for more relationship quotes on trust

Relationship without trust

It is better to recognize the true reason for your mistrust, share your doubts with your loved one, and show sincere interest and attention to each other.

Starting a new relationship, a person strives for harmony. Only often the euphoria of the first meetings is replaced by sadness, alienation, lack of understanding, constant suspicions, and doubts.

Relationship with and without trust

What are the true causes of doubt and mistrust?

1. The most common cause of doubt, most often, is a failed past experience. Try to forget the past, start, as they say, from scratch.

2. Questionable behavior of the partner or his superficial attitude towards you can also cause suspicions, doubts and distrust.

3. Internal complexes and the lack of healthy self-esteem are fertile soil for the emergence of distrust of the partner.

4. Doubts and suspicion can also arise without reason. If, for example, the partner suffers from pathological jealousy. The reason for this may be internal self-doubt, improper upbringing, etc.

5. Own lies, betrayals and dishonest behavior. Paradoxically, but it is precisely such reasons that can make a person doubt the decency of another.

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We have surprise coming up for you

Get daily news updates directly to your inbox!

Leave this field empty if you’re human:

“Always trust your gut. It knows what your head hasn’t figured out yet.”

“Without trust, it’s only a matter of time before relationships crumble.”

“After years of marriage, I have learned one thing: Trust a woman’s intuition before a man’s undeniable logic.”

“Have enough courage to trust love one more time and always one more time.” – Maya Angelou

“The best proof of love is trust.” – Joyce Brothers

Continue reading for more relationship quotes on trust

How to regain trust in a relationship?

First, learn to trust in the little things. Stop checking your partner for honesty. Think about whether you yourself are honest to the end. Leave the partner and the right to non-complaint.

Understand that love is a free decision and has nothing to do with slavery.

All troubles have their own solution – this is the main principle, even if the worst suspicions are confirmed.

Talk frankly with your partner about your doubts. Probably, he will easily dismiss all accumulated suspicions.

A positive attitude helps to find mutual understanding, and a good sense of humor will help defuse the situation.

read the following relationship quotes about trust and try to follow.