#how the things he did have lasting repercussions that don't disappear when he decides to turn over a new leaf
shadeswift99 · 1 year
"Redemption arcs are an overdone and badly executed trope" factoid is actually just statistical error. Redemption Arcs Mythicalsausage, who spent episodes after his Xornoth possession systematically apologizing to the people he hurt and working to regain their trust while also giving them ample space to forgive him or not forgive him in their own time, as well as setting up an accountability network to keep himself from falling into evil again, is an outlier adn SHOULD be counted because oh my god it is so refreshing to see someone actually make their redemption a real arc instead of just a tacked-on excuse and a guilt trip -
#Mythicalsausage#empires smp#the next time someone asks me why i watch series like this instead of mainstream shows and movies anymore I'm just going to show them this#because you have NO IDEA how good this feels#it's a redemption arc that doesn't make me feel bad!! it doesn't give me an inexplicable sinking feeling!!#it's not focused on guilt! it's not about Sausage feeling guilty and down on himself for the things he did#and it's not about guilting other people for not immediately accepting that he's cool now either!#and there's REALISTIC ON SCREEN HEALING TIME?? Both physically and emotionally? For everyone??#it's too good to be true#it's so so so good in so many ways#how the things he did have lasting repercussions that don't disappear when he decides to turn over a new leaf#but also the consequences don't isolate or punish him in a way that makes the viewer wonder why he bothered trying at all#the way he takes accountability for things and doesn't push away other people's pain#while ALSO having a clear boundary in terms of how much accusation he'll take before reminding people that he was in fact possessed#and he gave his tools to Gem#it's a tiny detail but i swear I'm going to cry about it#he gave his corrupted tools to Gem...for safekeeping...#and he can ask her for them back and use them for a bit if he needs to if she asks him a few questions to know why and that he's safe#but he gave them to her to keep because he didn't trust himself with them at that point and that's just... that's good. that's very good.#that's genuine very good coping right there#....yeah it's been a Day apparently I am in fact tearing up over this#but the arc is good okay! it's very good!!#sausage <3#this man can WRITE
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tlcwrites · 2 years
A birthday gift for @paper-n-ashes
Summary: When you steal the Supreme Leader's sweater, there are... repercussions.
Word Count: 3483
Tags/Warnings: Kylo Ren x Fem Reader. NSFW, 18+. MINORS DNI; PIV sex, unprotected sex (no glove no love), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, heavy dom/sub dynamic, praise kink, breath play, I'm probably forgetting other kinks but I finished this at 3AM last night and I'm not even sure that I used real words let alone remember what I wrote so if I missed any let me know and I'll update the tags, smuuuuuuut for daaaays, canon what's canon The Rise of Skywalker can go fuck itself mostly except for that beautiful white set of rooms on the Steadfast.
Author’s Note: It's my hetero lifemate @paper-n-ashes' birthday today (at least in my timezone for a few more hours so IT COUNTS sorry Sarah at least you got to read it yesterday) and she has been waiting SO patiently for me to finish this damn fic. I started writing it back in like November? Maybe even October? and have struggled so fucking hard with finding the mojo to finish it. Then out of the blue this week, said mojo came back and I figured Sarah's birthday was the perfect deadline. So, voila. And don't forget to go tell her how awesome she is.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY SISTER IN THIRST AND SHAMELESS HOEING. I couldn't actually get you Kylo so I got you this instead. #throne room hair is the best hair forever the end
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You’re perched on the sofa, open book on your lap, when the comm chimes. You can’t help your soft smile; it’s finally that time of the day cycle.
You don’t bother answering the comm, since it’s an alert, not a call. Closing your book, you rise and return it to the bookcase set into the wall of the lounge. With a gentle press, the hatch closes, and the bookcase disappears into the stark white expanse of the rest of the room, precious cargo hidden. Books are an expensive indulgence, even for the Supreme Leader.
Or whomever he choses to share them with.
You cross to the base of the stairs that lead to the chamber’s entrance and open a small compartment, also a part of the structure of the room. You toe off your slippers, setting them carefully inside the cubby. Your soft leggings pants are next, folded carefully. You start to remove your sweater as well, but hesitate. It is chilly. For all of the technology the First Order has amassed, you’d think they’d have figured out how to keep their Destroyers at a comfortable temperature.
You leave the sweater. He’ll definitely have an… opinion about it.
Now bare but for the sweater and your bra, so scant it hardly deserves the term, you take your place at the base of the stairs. The hem of the sweater brushes your thighs. Standing tall, feet together, hands clasped loosely behind you, you wait. You keep your eyes on the blast doors.
When the doors finally open, you smile softly. “Good evening, Supreme Leader.”
His cape billows behind him as he descends the stairs (he’s clearly inherited his family's flair for dramatics). As he reaches the bottom, you respectfully drop your gaze. His boots stop in front of you, your bare feet looking so small compared to his. But then again, everything looks small compared to him.
He raises a gloved hand and strokes the back of a finger down the collar of your sweater. “What’s this?” His voice is throaty and deep. As usual, it sends a thrill through you.
You keep your eyes downcast. “A sweater, Supreme Leader.”
“Clearly.” His finger continues down from the collar of the garment, caressing the soft rise of your breasts. “Perhaps I should rephrase my question.” His finger catches your nipple, and you can’t help but gasp. “What is my sweater doing on your body, when your body doesn’t have permission to be wearing anything?”
You finally risk a glance up. His face is impassive, but there’s a glint in his eyes. He’s amused.
You raise your chin. He loves when you’re confident. “It was cold.”
“Cold.” The finger continues to tease your nipple through the fibers. “In space.” The tease turns into a flick, and you barely smother your gasp. His lips twitch. “Imagine that.”
He’s in a good mood. You decide to toy with him. “Perhaps I simply need something substantial to keep me warm, Supreme Leader.”
One eyebrow raises, ever so slightly. He’s going to play along. “Do you find my care unsatisfactory?”
“Of course not, Supreme Leader.” His finger has shifted to your other nipple. You take a shuddering breath. “I would never dare to question your wisdom.”
He shifts almost imperceptibly closer to you. “And yet-” He brings that accursed finger back up your sternum, tracing up your neck and ghosting over your jaw. “-is that not exactly what you’ve done by ignoring my directive?”
He passes the leather-wrapped digit over your lips, stroking the soft skin. “Nothing to say, pet?”
You drop your eyes again. “My most sincere apologies, Supreme Leader.”
His hum of approval reverberates in your chest. “I imagine they will be.” He applies the barest hint of pressure to your lips. “Open.”
You comply immediately, opening your mouth enough to allow his finger entrance. The leather tastes so different from his skin. He presses the thick digit inside, and doesn’t have to say a word as you begin to suck obediently. He adds a second finger and you can’t stifle your moan.
“Good girl.”
Two words. Just two words, hummed in that honeyed voice, and you can practically feel your arousal dripping down your thighs. You glance up once more.
He’s watching you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. Maker, you love his eyes. You can always read him through his eyes. He tries so hard to bury his emotions, but nothing can be hidden in their cinnamon depths. And right now, his eyes say that he’s about half a standard second away from losing what’s left of his famously little control.
Hmm. Time to have a little more fun.
You deliberately graze his fingers with your teeth, the leather of his glove supple under your bite.
His cheek twitches and you know instinctively he’s chewing on it. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart,” he warns you.
Pulling your mouth off his fingers with a ‘pop’, you smile serenely up at him. “Whatever do you mean, Supreme Leader?”
“You know exactly what I mean,” he purrs, dragging his spit-soaked fingers along the edge of your jaw, his own clenched as he tries to keep himself in check. “Careful you don’t get burned.”
Your smile becomes less teasing, and more sincere. It’s okay, you think, knowing he’ll be able to feel your emotions. You never guard yourself around him. I trust you, Master.
There’s a split second when his eyes search yours; for permission, for acceptance, for confirmation of that trust that you hold in him and that he holds in you. It’s a breath of a moment, but he leaves his raw self exposed.
He’s affection starved, your Supreme Leader, even if he’ll never admit it. Deep inside, where even his former masters couldn’t reach, is that little boy he once was; still desperate to please and be praised by those too focused elsewhere to pay attention, and terrified of disappointing those who do. It breaks your heart that he’s spent his whole life feeling so alone.
Your dynamic fills that void in a way he feels safe with. It’s on his terms. He needs your adoration; needs your worship. He craves the affirmation. No more abandonment and fear from those he should be able to trust most; no more abuse and gaslighting at the hands of those who are supposed to guide him.
Just trust, and love. Pure, unconditional love.
He presses his lips to yours.
You whimper into his kiss, pressing a hand against his massive chest to steady yourself.
In the next moment, he scoops you up, pressing you against the window and hooking your legs around his waist. You yelp at the coolness of the transparisteel against your back, even through the sweater, but he swallows your cry as he plunders your mouth.
“Kylo,” you whimper when he lets you up for air, but he ignores you, sucking a line down your neck to your collarbone.
“Get this off,” he growls, tugging at the neckline of the sweater. “Or I’ll take it off for you, and it won’t survive the removal.”
You let go of his shoulders, grasping the hem of the top and practically ripping it over your head.
His mouth is on you in an instant, those plush lips teasing one nipple at a time through your lacy scrap of a bra.
“Maker!” you gasp, flinging the sweater in the general direction of the floor and bringing both hands to grip his hair. Frantic fingers twist his dark waves. You could write sonnets to his hair. “Kylo!”
You feel the clasp of your bra come undone. He rips his lips from your breasts, and with one barely-there flick of his fingers, the undergarment is on the floor next to the sweater.
“Did you just-” It’s next to impossible to smother your giggle when you realize what he’s done. “I can’t imagine the Force is meant to be used for that.”
Kylo ignores you, although you’re positive you can detect the barest hint of a blush on his ears. But then you’re not paying attention to his ears, as he’s sucked one of your nipples back into his mouth and is grazing it with his teeth. Your moan turns into a shriek when he hooks his arms under your legs and hefts you higher against the wall, so it’s easier for him to feast on your flesh.
He shifts your weight to one of his massive arms, that paw of a hand gripping the opposite flesh of your rear as he brings his other hand back up to your mouth. “Open,” he commands once more.
You take the two still-gloved fingers as deep in your mouth as you can, gagging slightly as he presses on the back of your tongue.
His dark chuckle is breathless. “Such an eager whore,” he murmurs against your chest, your answering whimper going straight to his cock. Pulling his hand back, he nips the skin at your collarbone at the same time he drags the fingers you’ve just drenched straight through your swollen folds below.
“Do you even deserve my fingers, Pet?” He smirks as you drop your head back and moan. “Such a wanton little thing you are.” He teasingly traces a circle around your clit with just a fingertip, satisfaction growing at the sound the movement elicits from you.
“Master,” you gasp.
Without warning, he twists you away from the window, carrying you with ease to his desk. When he drops into his chair, he’s unable to suppress a sharp intake of breath as he settles you on his lap and brings your core into direct contact with his cock, hard and throbbing beneath his trousers. The contrast of your nudity with his still-clothed body is intoxicating. He guides your hips to roll against him again, your moans simultaneous as your cunt makes slick the leather stretched taut over his arousal.
Already closer to his breaking point than he'd prefer to admit, Kylo clamps his teeth down on the inside of his cheek hard enough to break the skin, the pain working as usual to allow him to refocus his energy and reclaim control of his passions. Unhinged as his reputation is, there is part of his life the Supreme Leader rules with meticulous care- you.
He knows you love him, and you’ve declared time and again it’s unconditional and without reservation. Your submission is a gift he knows he will never truly be worthy of. Maker knows he adores you with every part of his long-shrouded heart. But the fear never leaves him. Decades of distrust and broken promises means he lives in terror of the day his tenuous temper snaps, and he horrifies you or, stars forbid, truly hurts you.
That dark voice lurking at the back of his mind teases him with a possibility somehow perversely worse than fear or injury: abandonment. That you’ll inevitably see him at his most honest; broken, contemptible. Unworthy.
He loathes himself all the more, because he knows if it comes to it, he couldn’t survive letting you go. He isn’t strong enough to endure the loss of the only light he still has.
Unaware of his internal torture, you grip the front of his gambeson and try to rock your pelvis against him, whining as you’re foiled by his hands still gripping your hips. “Master, please.”
Your voice jerks him back to reality, and your begging makes his cock twice as hard. “Something you desire, Pet?” he purrs, grateful you were too wrapped in lust to notice his momentary lapse.
“You, Master.” You can’t help a frustrated whimper as you try once more to undulate against him and are again prevented from doing so. “Please, Kylo, let me please you.”
He reburies his anguish, and smirks at you. “Very well.” He releases your hips. “Please me.”
As soon as he lets go, you’re sliding off his lap and on to your knees, scrambling to unhook his belt. He obligingly helps you open his trousers. You make quick work of the placket and draw out your prize, salivating as you pump his already-leaking cock.
He hisses as your mouth engulfs him. “Yes, just like that. What a good, good girl you are.”
A lewd moan escapes around his length as he fists his hands in your hair.
He doesn’t need to say another word. You can read it in his eyes, every filthy, dark thought as you bob your head on his shaft. How good it feels when you take his cock in your throat; that he knows exactly how hot and wet it makes you when he fucks your mouth; how knowing you’re waiting in his quarters to be used as his personal whore is the only thing that gets him through the day. You moan again, and one corner of his mouth twitches.
You know him well enough to recognize it as a smirk.
“As delightful as this is, Pet,” he finally sighs, a slight waiver to his voice the only indicator of how close you already have him to release, “there’s a different part of you I desire at this moment.”
Releasing his cock with a ‘pop’, you continue to stroke him with your hand as you beam up at him. “As you wish, Master.”
Your mouth and chin are wet with precum and spit. He drags his thumb through the mess and brings it to your lips, his cock jumping in your grasp as you wrap your tongue around the digit.
“Up,” he snaps.
Rising immediately, you can’t help your squeak as he spins you to face the desk and pulls you back onto his lap, impaling you on his cock with one hard thrust. You gasp, unable to cry out as all the air is expelled from your lungs. Your arms are wrenched behind you by invisible bonds, the posture thrusting your breasts out. You hear his low chuckle as he tweaks both nipples while simultaneously bucking his hips, eliciting a shriek from you.
Thick fingers twist into your hair, pulling you back until you're flush with his chest. His breath is hot against your ear as he snarls two words that have your cunt clenching in anticipation: “Ride me.”
No further encouragement is necessary. He works your body over as you rock in his lap, reducing you to a burbling mass of arousal. Releasing his grip on your hair, his hands make their way down your body, the leather feeling so kriffing good as he caresses every inch of you.
Plush lips drag against your jaw as he leans forward, pressing his chest closer against your back. He trails his fingers up your thighs while simultaneously dragging his teeth along your earlobe. The noise that escapes you is undignified at best, and positively libidinous at worst.
The bastard’s smirk is obvious against your heated skin. “My beautiful Empress,” he murmurs, licking a stripe up your neck.
You can’t suppress your panting as he nips at the sensitive spot just below your ear. “I’m not your Empress,” you manage, your voice breathy with arousal as you continue to move.
“Mmmmm.” Kylo hums as his right hand trails up your abdomen to gently cup your left breast, those elegant fingers plucky at your nipple and making you moan. “Not yet.”
“Oh.” You squeak as he latches on to your pulse point, his teeth scraping over your skin as he marks you. His other hand drops to your core, fingertips stroking your folds as deftly as a musician plays a hallikset. You cry out as he deliberately ignores your clit, but your cry becomes a gasp as he abruptly slaps the inside of your thigh. “Kylo!”
“Feel how wet you are, little whore.” He pulls his hand from your cunt and wipes your slick across your cheek. “Only the most depraved whores drip like this.” When he wraps the same hand around your throat, you sob in euphoric bliss. His chuckle is low. “Look at you, reduced to a needy slut who wants nothing more than to be filled by her Master.”
You can’t help but moan as he tightens his grip, the other hand on your breast squeezing hard.
“Speak, Pet.” His order is hissed in your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “Tell me how much you want my cock.”
“Need you, Master,” you gasp, deliciously light headed from the lack of oxygen. “Need you to- oh, Maker!- need you to fill me, need you to fuck m-me oh!”
A squeal erupts as he abruptly thrusts up, hard, and proceeds to set a brutal pace. Helpless to do anything but take what he gives you, all you can do is wail and enjoy the desperation in his movements.
When he stands and surges forward, shoving you against his desk while still buried in your swollen heat, it’s just enough to send you over the edge and you crash into your climax with a scream.
Over your shoulder, you hear Kylo tsk in admonishment. “Oh, princess,” he chides, as you feel your Force bonds tighten even more, “you know better than to cum without permission.”
With that, he shoves you forward, pressing your chest flat against the thermoplastic and using his knee to spread your legs. You willingly comply, relishing in his hiss as he pumps into your wet, waiting warmth. He finally releases your throat, and the sensation of your cunt clenching as you cough is too much for him. His pace becomes blistering, each thrust sending your pelvic bone into the edge of the desk; speech is now beyond your power, incoherent babble all that remains as he obliterates your cunt.
The lewd symphony of your coupling is punctuated by his growls and your cries. You can already feel the crest rising anew and you beg for salvation. “Master, please!”
He grips the back of your neck, anchoring your head, snarling as he takes you with rapid, deep thrusts. “Do you think now you'll be able to follow instructions?”
You nod frantically, trying desperately to stave off your orgasm. “Yes, Master!”
His voice is deeper than ever, trembling slightly as he uses your body to chase his own end. “Tell me, my little slut; who owns you?”
“You, Master!” You can’t hold back the shriek that erupts from your lips as you feel that subtle tickling of his powers against your clit.
The sounds you’re making have him right on the edge. “You’re mine, all mine,” he sneers as you cry out once more. “Say it.”
“Yours, Kylo,” you gasp. “I’m yours!”
“You need to cum again, sweet little Pet?” When you frantically nod, he fists your hair and yanks your head back. “Do it,” he hisses next to your ear. “Cum for me. Now.”
You explode around him, screaming your pleasure. His echoing roar is your only warning before he slams into you a final time, ripping himself from your heat and snatching your body off the desk. You land on your knees just in time to receive his spend, splashing across your face and chest as he pumps his length.
It takes several moments before you can even start to become aware of your surroundings once more. In that time, Kylo has bundled you in your favorite cozy blanket, and cradles you in his lap as he smooths your hair back and murmurs sweet words of praise. His seed still decorates your body, and you preen as you feel his hands, finally ungloved, gently rub it into your skin as one more claim of his ownership.
Your contented sigh is what alerts him to your consciousness, and he can’t help his proud smile as your eyes slowly flutter open, or the chaste and caring kiss he presses to your temple. “How are you feeling, princess?”
A beaming smile is his reward. “Wonderful,” you sigh, and then giggle. “And filthy, in the best possible way.”
“As requested,” he slyly teases.
You notice that sometime during your torpor, he’s shed his gambeson and trousers, replacing them with soft lounge pants and  the stolen sweater. Hooking your fingers over the neckline, echoing his own earlier actions, you tug gently. “Thief.”
He laughs, your favorite sound in the galaxy. “The Jawa calls the Ewok short.” Your answering eye roll elicits another chuckle and another brush of his lips. “Happy birthday, love,” he murmurs against your forehead.
“Thank you, Supreme Leader.” Your smile is soft as you raise your face, content when he understands the overture and leans down to press his lips to yours. A/N: Alexa, play "I Want Kylo Ren To Rail Me on a Desk" by Beyoncé or someone.
Likes and reblogs feed my dirty, dirty soul. I always want to tag mutuals but then I feel like that would be super presumptuous even though I love being tagged, so IDK I guess send me an ask if you want me to tag you in new writings?
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cherries11 · 2 years
Bonus - WitW cut scenes and notes
So, as with most writers, I have a lot of cut scenes. Writing the The Woman in the Woods, my word count on cut scenes has reached 20k. Although that's probably inaccurate 'coz I ended up putting some of it back in, either parts of it or whole paragraphs. But for Chapter 12, there were two scenes that almost made it to the final version.
If you haven't read my fanfic and plan to, please don't read this because this spoils not only part 1 but part 2 as well. Here's the link in case you're interested.
Oh, and to those who plan to re-read the whole thing, you might notice minor changes. Some are corrections, some are lines I accidentally deleted or realize later on that I've forgotten to put in...
...such as why Sasha was holding out on moving in with Saul (they agreed not to do anything rash for six months).
Scene 1 - Right after they kiss
Because Saul's still not well (very, very low blood), he gets lightheaded and takes a second.
“Just breathe,” Sasha said.
“I have to tell you something.” His head leaning on the couch, he tilted his face toward her. “And you have to remember that I’m convalescing right now.”
The smile on her face disappeared. “What?”
He took another deep breath and blew it out through his mouth. “I… saw you naked.”
She smirked at that. “Yeah, right.”
“I did.”
She then frowned. “How could you have—” and then she gasped. “You were awake!”
“I didn’t see a lot. Just calves, and legs,” he was quick to point out. “And ass—but very, very briefly.”
Her jaw was still on the floor, unwilling to pick it up.
“Should I have not told you?”
It seemed she didn’t hear. “If you were awake, then you were aware that I dropped blood in your mouth.”
“I thought it was a dream.” She didn’t look convinced.
“How briefly, really, did you see?” Maybe he didn’t answer fast enough that she slapped his arm and repeated louder, “How briefly?”
He muttered an ouch even though it didn’t hurt. “Like a second. Half a second!”
Sky then comes in the house and calls for "Maja". After Sasha responds with "Out here" this happens.
Then to him, she tilted her head. “A second, huh. Well, we can make it longer the next time.”
He was beaming at her when Sky emerged from the backdoor, who was visibly surprised at finding him there.
I ended up taking this scene out because, when I re-read it, it dragged the scene--the kiss was already a happy ending, though I really wanted to address her getting naked and Saul seeing that.
Scene 2 (Epilogue) - Farah's visit
One of the ideas I have for ending the story was for Sasha to say something like, "I think I'll open a school" (for witches). So the first draft of the epilogue begins with her jittery because she's about to give a two-hour lecture (which should culminate with her having confidence enough to maybe open a school). But as I was writing that, I realized that she's right to be jittery because she's declaring herself a blood witch, and the scope of what that would mean, standing there and doing that, I had to rethink because I was hoping the epilogue was just 1k and should just be light and fluffy. So, I thought it might be better if the lecture was just an idea she contemplates doing. Scene below is when Farah visits.
“What is it about? Should I be concerned?” Saul asked.
“No,” the fairy said, though she seemed to reconsider. Then, “No, I don’t think so.”
Saul frowned at her, just as Sasha came down.
“Oh, hi Farah,” she said while slinging on her backpack.
“I’m glad I caught you,” she eyed Saul, silently indicating that it was a private conversation. But he was unwilling to leave.
“Saul,” Sasha said, giving him a nudge to the ribs. “Come on, hun.”
The two women then sat on the living room while Saul made himself scarce by the kitchen, doing his best to overhear the conversation.
“I just have an idea I wanna run by you,” Farah began. “What do you think about giving a lecture, just two hours or longer if you like, about red witches.”
Sasha didn't expect this at all. Hearing this turned something inside of her dead cold with fear, just the idea of standing in front of a roomful of strangers and declaring that she was a blood witch. The last time she did that, her kind was wiped out.
Maybe reading where her thoughts went, Farah said, “You don’t have to say that you’re one. We can just say that you’re an expert on the subject. You’ve studied it all your life, their ways, their customs."
She was already shaking her head, seeing how this would be taken—what were her credentials? Her history? When the students go home, would they tell their parents about the “expert” who spoke so personally about these witches, and would they then hound the school for this lecturer? Also, what would it do to the school?
“I think it’s a bad idea, Farah.”
“I think it’s important that our students get informed as much as they could, especially about subjects where the common knowledge is just utterly wrong.”
Sasha blew out a nervous breath. Her hands had gone clammy and it was because this was the very thing that made doing it so tempting. But the repercussions attached to it, was it worth it? Would Alfea even be able to stand it? What if it destroyed the school?
She looked at the kitchen and, almost immediately, caught Saul’s eye. He had heard everything.
“Just think about it,” Farah placed a hand on top of hers.
She looked at it and just nodded.
“I do have a question,” she said just as Farah retreated her hand. “Have you found out what Rosalind meant? When she said my kind endanger this world?”
But the woman only shook her head.
When she left, Saul was back in the living room with Sasha still sitting on the couch.
“You should do it.”
Sasha chewed her lips and looked up at him, but didn’t say anything.
Then in the airport, the scene is the same as in the final version, but as they say goodbye, Saul mentions the lecture again and she just says she'll think about it. I stopped there, had a break, and was about to write the closing paragraphs but it just didn't sit well with me. I thought that even if it's something that's left hanging, something that a reader could decide on, the story still doesn't end with my original plan of her wanting to open a witch school. Also, even if it's left hanging, story-wise, the logical conclusion is that she does it because that's the brave thing to do. But doing it could legitimately put her in jeopardy and might actually destroy Alfea (I could imagine angry parents complaining about it, which includes royalty, and shutting down the school). It's an epilogue, and even if I'm not covering that part of the story, I didn't want it to be the last thing a reader thinks about.
So, I ended up cutting it all out and changing the purpose of Farah's visit. I thought it worked out much better because the epilogue should just focus on Saul and Sasha, and also hint that Saul has a better, more honest relationship with Sky.
I tend to not write any of my ideas down (I do that by writing the story already). But whenever I have a problem with a story, instead of using a digital notepad, I actually use pen and paper and write all of the questions I need answered and put in all answers I could think of (and why that won't work). I was doing that today for this other thing I'm writing (it's not a fanfic, sadly, but my main character is based off RJC), and found my notes from writing Part 2 of WitW. Since I'm making this post, thought it would be fun to include it too.
These were made after writing Ch 6. Yes, my handwriting is terrible. I think only I can read them. But if you're able to read them, then you must be a nurse (to those who aren't, nurses' handwriting aren't bad, but they read doctor's notes all the time). I was at this for a couple of hours. I think ch 7, 8, 9 are on point to what I ended up writing. Some changes in Ch 10, but epilogue is totally different.
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tagging @astrid-v​, and thought you might be interested reading this too @kingunder221b​
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lyracasstuff · 2 years
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I am NOT prepared to make myself sad,, you FRENCHIE!! ಥ⌣ಥ
However,, I will accept because as much as it pains me to write angst,, I also have to in order to improve my writing skills..
I'll do this in one shot/fic form as I feel as though I can convey emotions there better. That and I've been doing headcannons as of late,, so let's switch it up a notch..
Joseph x fem! S/o
To be Sick at Heart💔
"How did this all happen?" thought the Frenchman, although it was more retorical, as he already knew deep down the answer to that question... He just can't accept it..
You had been an acquaintance to Joseph before, seeing as how your family served him, and the both of you only grew closer once you got caught in the twisted "games" of the manor. Joseph asked as to what had tempted you to accept the invitation of the manor.
It turns out, you were looking to find people who you can treat as your own family. In all your life, you practically had been treated like dirt, especially the time when Joseph had gone missing. Your family had given you love and acceptance, but it was short-lived seeing as how their lives were slowly taken from them early on in your life by sickness, you had no one but the other servants to take care of you.
The other servants cared for you, but not to the same extent as your family... You were aware of that fact as did they. So, when the invitation arrived, you couldn't help but accept right away.
It promised that "they" could fulfill your desire of having the bonds and relationships that you never had growing up, why wouldn't you accept? You would be missing out on a golden oppurtunity.
And so, that was how you ended up in this morbid manor, tricked and forced to participate in these "games" that gets everyone hurt much like every other survivor who came here...
Days had gone by. Weeks. Months. Hell, even years, and you were all still being forced to play.
Thankfully, you had everyone to keep you company during these times.. Thanks to your loving nature, you were able to be close with everyone in the manor, even those who are notorious at being secretive like Norton. You even managed to befriend some of the hunters as well.
But most especially of all, you were thankful you had Joseph to be there with you.
You were quite shocked when you saw the silver-haired count, as he had seemingly disappeared out of nowhere the last time. So to see him here made you pleasantly surprised.
Joseph as well felt shocked when he saw you here, albeit he took some time to figure who exactly you were as you looked extremely familiar to him.
It didn't take long for the both of you to grow close to each other where outside of matches, you two were practically inseperable. The both of you would be spotted having afternoon tea together, walking around the manor together, sightseeing for new photoshoot locations together.
You always did things together...
Over time though, you would grow feelings for the count and the same can be said for Joseph as well. However, your fears of being rejected has delayed the both of you from ever confessing about your feelings toward each other. The others in the manor can most definitely see your connection as bright as day, but they really didn't know how to go about helping you about it. After all, all of them never really had great experiences in their lives, so they don't know what would normally be best in a situation like this..
Despite this, you can't help but feel content and happy that you have found people that you can treat as your family. Emily and Michiko were like motherly figures to you with their kind nature. Leo treated you like his own daughter, much like how he treats Emma. Wu Chang, Andrew, Norton, Naib, and Eli were like big brothers for you, always being protective of you to keep you safe.
You really felt at home with all of the inhabitants. It almost felt as if being stuck in a manor wasn't so bad after all...
There was still one more thing you wanted to do. You had discovered your family, but you wanted to expand on that desire..
You wanted to start your own family
And you would want to do so with someone you love... That someone would be the Frenchman with whom you have grown immense feelings for.. So you sent him an invitation to go to the balcony of the garden at night, where you won't be disturbed by the others...
Unbeknownst to you, the Frenchman had been thinking the same thing, especially after reading the invitation you sent him. Can you blame him though? Seeing you interacting with him, along with all of the others, made him feel butterflies in his stomach. How you unconditionally helped the other inhabitants through their issues and suffering, not because you needed something from them, but because you wanted to. You wanted to help them, you wanted to nurture them, you wanted to support them...
With that feeling alone, Joseph finds that he just couldn't take it anymore... He wants to confess to you..
He wants to be with you, to call you his love, to marry you and call you his wife, and to start a family as well..
With that thought, he made up his mind and decided to accept your invitation, and there, he will confess..
It was night time, you were already at the balcony waiting, knowing that Joseph values punctuality and doesn't like to be kept waiting. Soon after, Joseph shows up. It seems as though he had been brisk walking which is evident by the way he's catching his breath in the slightest.
Taking a deep breath, you slowly and calmly began to confess your feelings towards him and how you wanted to start building a future with him as the father of your children.
Joseph was in awe, for he had never could've guessed that you felt the same way. He accepted, saying how he had always thought about you the same way, and that he would be honored to be the father of your children. Joseph took a few steps towards you, with you unconsciously doing the same. Joseph wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer, while you wrapped yours around his neck.
He lifted his hand and tilted your chin upwards to stare at your features, admiring them. The way your skin glistened in the moonlight, how your eyes sparkled with life when he stared at them. How your cheeks were flushed with the slightest hint of color.
You looked angelic to him.
Brushing his thumb over your lower lip, he slowly closed his eyes as he allowed his lips to connect with yours.. You can't help but reciprocate immediately, you'd been waiting for this moment to come. You truly felt happy that you took the risk to confess to him, knowing that he may have rejected you instead.
And that was the start of your blossoming relationship...
For the next few years, the two of you became more and more in love with each other every single day. Countless affirmations of love, bouquets of your favorite flowers, numerous cuddling sessions, along with the discussion of having a domestic life together..
You two really had the potential to have a wonderful life together...
But, there are repercussions in growing fond of the potential...
One time at a match, you had been feeling dizzier and more nauseous by the second, so much so that it frequently disoriented you from kiting the hunter properly. At some point even, you threw up a bit. Your team still won the match since the hunter decided to go friendly in the end because of your condition, however they were still concerned for you so they sent you immediately to Emily.
You were diagnosed to be pregnant..
Your thoughts immediately went to Joseph. A mixture of joy and anxiousness washed over you. Can be a good mother for your child? Can you really do this? Can you really start a family like you had promised? What if you do something wrong? What if you're not cut out for this?
Just as your thoughts began to generate more questions, Joseph runs in and looks over to you with wide eyes. Emily must've told him that you were pregnant with his child. He immediately went towards your bed and hugged you as he sobbed his heart out.
He was so convinced that the bright future you two head towards is certain...
Oh, how a fool he was for believing so....
2 months in and your belly hasn't been growing rapidly.. Normally, you would've had a small baby bump forming on your belly... Joseph and Emily had been constantly reassuring you that you might need to readjust your diet more to fit your baby's needs....
But, that's not the only thing bothering you...
You see, just as you haven't "developed" your baby, your dizziness and nausea didn't go away. For quite sometime, you thought it was normal.....
Until you see tiny specks and droplets of blood on your hand...
That's when you realize....
You're not actually pregnant.. You're sick...
Having this sudden realization, you quickly washed your hand and looked at yourself in the mirror... Maybe this was some sort of mistake? Maybe you're actually pregnant and you just scratched the inside of your cheek?
You were hoping. Praying, that it was anything else other than a sickness... However, as time passed, you felt yourself growing weaker and weaker...
For months, you had kept this sickness of yours a secret. You didn't want to make anyone worry about you and you especially didn't want to disappoint Joseph with the fact that you're not actually carrying a baby or make him devastated with your death just as he became devastated with his twin brother's death...
However, try as you may, the longer you kept it a secret, the more the others noticed. How your skin was getting paler, how your cheeks had started to sink in, how you became alarmingly skinnier and bonier, how your eyes became more dull and lifeless...
Most importantly, at how you became increasingly more secretive and quiet about all this.
Joseph was by far being more and more anxious than before. He didn't know what was happening. He wasn't an expert in medicine, but even he could notice that this isn't normal for a pregnancy..
Quickly carrying you to Emily, he asked for a check-up to see what was happening. You would've stopped him if it weren't for the fact that you were so weak, you couldn't move a muscle without hurting it.. There, he was informed about the condition you're in. He was just as shocked as you are, but there's a mixture of fear and hopelessness bubbling inside him...
No. He couldn't let this happen. Not again...
His breathing starts going rapid, his hands start shaking, he hugs himself as he looks at you at your weakened state with tears threatening to spill from his eyes...
Just as he was about to confront you, Victor had entered and pointed towards the main hall, signaling Joseph and Emily to go there.
Apparently, there's a meeting that's going to be held.
Joseph and Emily looked at each other before turning to look at you. Then, they quickly left the room, with you all alone inside with nothing but your thoughts and the life within you.. Or, what's left of it...
The meeting started once Joseph and Emily arrived as they were the only ones left to attend. Emily had to quickly explain your condition when some of the others questioned your whereabouts.. All were quite shocked and concerned about your sickness, however the meeting was said to be an important one so they had to stay. They'll just have to relay the information given to you by the time it's done..
After the meeting, everyone was so shocked and confused that for several moments, no one said a word.. Who wouldn't though? Because after all this time...
They were all finally free
Free from the clutches of the manor, free from the twisted "games", free from the prison that presented itself as a grand oppurtunity for everyone to get what they want.
They were free at last... Now, they can all live their lives as they want it to be...
Suddenly realizing this, Joseph quickly made his way back to your room. There was still hope he thought, he had hoped for you to get better and finally leave this prison together, along with the others.
But what he saw when he opened the door made him feel like his heart had been crushed into a million pieces...
There in your room, was you lying in your bed, breath shallow and rapid, crimson blood dripping from the side of your mouth and staining the sheets, your eyes looking duller and duller as ever...
You were grasping..
Grasping for whatever life you had left within you, it made Joseph run to your side quickly as he cradled your head in his arms, proclaiming you'll be fine and that you're all free now and that you just need to hold on for a little while longer..
But you both know that you won't make it..
You both know that Joseph is more so convincing himself, than convincing you..
The others had rushed in to see you, and they too were crushed for they also wished for you to escape with all of them...
You held Joseph's hand, and told him not to worry anymore.. Looking towards the others, you proclaimed that you had finally found the people that you can call your family, and that even if Joseph can't see you, you'll always be there for him no matter what.. And that you wish for him to be happy and enjoy his newfound freedom, without the confinements of the manor...
Joseph begged you to stay, to hang on, to stay strong, all while sobbing uncontrollably but to no avail...
You withdrew your final breath as your hand became limp, your eyes closed, and your body going cold...
You had died
For the second time in his life, he once again witnessed the death of someone he deeply cared about..
First Claude......... And now, you....
Joseph lost it as he let all his tears and sadness out.. Everyone, soon followed suit. They can't help but be crushed at the thought of their friend never making it on time for the escape....
The now former inhabitants of the manor prepared one last funeral in honor of your death, with Aesop embalming you, Andrew preparing the hole from which will forever be your resting place, Emma preparing the funeral flowers, while the others prepared the venue... The Red Church.. Everyone gathered and mourned for your death. By the end of it all, everyone left the cemetery and the manor together, with Joseph gripping a bar of the gate, longing to see you again once more and hoping that you were still alive somehow...
Alas, it never came. And so, he reluctantly left the manor and had trenched forward to live his life "to the fullest"...
But how can he ever live his life as he pleases when you're not around? How can he simply enjoy the pleasures of life when you aren't there to accompany him? How can he move on when he doesn't want to forget you?
These thoughts plague him constantly, as he stirs his tea mindlessly, looking into the distance, as his new "family" were chatting happily, not knowing what goes on inside his head..
He has a family now alright, but it wasn't perfect.. It wasn't with you.
That thought is enough to make him sick at heart, for he will never experience the joy he had longed for when you were still around...
Sick at Heart : to experience deep unpleasant emotions such as grief or disappointment
Author's Note: I hope you are all satisfied with this angst, Frenchie... Because you really made my day a bit sadder than usual..
Can someone pls request something fluffy the next time I open my requests?? I need some comforting chocolate cake after that bitter black coffee moment..(╥_╥)
Well,, until next time then! See you all in my next post!! (T▽T)💚
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aster-aspera · 2 years
Don't cover yourself with thistle and weeds
CW's for this chapter: minor character death, semi-graphic descriptions of injuries, parental death, unsympathetic Remus
Relationship: romantic logince
This prompt was suggested to me by the lovely MizzMarvel on ao3
Chapter title is from thistle and weeds by Mumford and sons
This is Logan’s backstory in my superhero AU. You can find the whole thing on ao3 here  or on the masterlist here
As Logan walked home that morning, he felt invincible, untouchable. All the grey days at school fell away, all the teasing and bullying and all the fear was suddenly gone.
He felt like he was soaring, floating somewhere high above his life. He was so much more than himself in that moment.
Maybe, he didn’t want this to end. However terrifying chasing after criminals was, that particular high almost made the danger worth it. He mourned the fact that it would be over soon. That they would put the gang away, file away the info they had collected and go back to school, alone in the knowledge of what they had done.
The ecstatic feeling faded when he entered his garden and noticed the front door was open. His blood ran cold.
Logan dropped his bag to the floor, frustration written in the lines of his posture.
“Hey sweetheart, how was your day?” His mother called from her office.
“It was uneventful as always and I am not in the mood to discuss it further.” He replied shortly.
His mother rounded the corner and took in his drawn face and the force with which he set his books down on the table.
She held out her arms invitingly and Logan let himself be wrapped up in her embrace, savouring the feeling of safety it gave him.
“Are the other kids giving you trouble again?” She asked.
The other kids were the least of his worries, currently. He could handle their childish taunting. His other problems were related to the more dangerous, night time aspect of his life. But he couldn’t exactly burden his mother with that.
She would worry too much and while he wouldn’t exactly blame her for that, he didn’t need her nagging atop all his worries about Roman and Remus.
So he just nodded and left it at that.
His mother didn’t pressure him to say more. She understood that he didn’t always feel like talking.
Once he was finished with his homework, he locked the door to his room and grabbed the locked box he kept hidden away at the back of his dresser. He opened it and carefully arranged the papers inside into orderly stacks.
The box contained a wealth of information, information that could likely get him in serious trouble if it got into the wrong hands. These files were the fruit of months of research and careful surveillance.
Supply routes, lists of buyers, lists of couriers, the entire ledger, even the names of the most elusive members.
This information could dismantle the entire gang and that was their goal. A few more weeks and they had all the evidence they needed.
Public scandals that would knock the leaders off their thrones, accounts of crimes and evidence so solid no judge would be able to refute it.
They would just have to drop it off at the police station and the gang’s fate would be sealed. It made Logan feel a little better whenever he looked at it. Despite the dangers, they were doing something good, something that would make this shithole of a city just a tiny bit more liveable. And hopefully, would help Remus.
Logan had to admit, he didn’t have that much faith in Roman’s plan. In theory, rolling up the drug rink so Remus lost his debts and could leave without fear of repercussions made sense.
But that theory was heavily relying on the fact that Remus even wanted to leave. He seemed way too comfortable in the criminal environment than Logan cared to see.
His phone started ringing and Logan picked it up without looking away from the supply route he was copying onto another paper.
“Hey erlenmeyer trash, you ready for tonight?”
Logan sighed at the nickname.
“Hello Roman, I told you at school I have everything prepared for tonight. I don’t see why you felt the need to call.”
“It’s just...something feels off. I’m scared something’s gonna go wrong.”
“Did something happen to make you feel like this?”
“No, not really. Well, I haven’t seen Remus in a while and he was acting weird the last time I called.”
“Remus dropping off the map or acting strange is not usually a cause for concern. He is prone to doing things like that.”
“Yeah, I know. I just…” Roman sounded uncharacteristically quiet. He must really be nervous.
“Is there anything else that caused this concern?”
“Then we will be alright. We know what we do is dangerous, but there are no signs the gang is aware of what we are doing. We have gone undetected for months, it is improbable they would suddenly know now and not give us any sort of indication. But, if you really are worried, we can call tonight off.”
“No! No, the sooner we get this done, the better. And if you say we’ll be alright, I believe you.”
“So you’re listening to me for once. How novel.”
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it, specs.”
Logan rolled his eyes.
“Just don’t forget the flashlights this time.”
“You’ll bring back up ones anyways. I don’t see why I bother.”
“It’s important to be prepared, definitely if you’re trying to fight crime with someone as scatterbrained as you.”
“You sound like Batman.”
“Good, that’s what I’m going for.”
“Well, caped crusader, I gotta go make dinner. See you tonight.”
“Yes. Don’t forget your scaly panties, robin.”
Roman signed off with a snort and Logan continued looking through the documents. But Roman’s words kept running through his head and his feeling of unease grew. Maybe it would be better to call it off for tonight.
No, Roman was right, they had to get this done as soon as possible. The longer they waited, the more time the gang had to discover what they were doing.
He decided to head downstairs. He had done all his prep work for tonight and sitting in his room feeling anxious wasn’t helping anyone.
Downstairs, music was playing and his mom and dad stood in the kitchen. They held each other close and were sloppily slowing along to the music, horribly off beat.
His dad noticed him standing in the door opening and beckoned him over.
They took him up in their embrace and his dad kept trying to dance, even though Logan was tripping over his own feet and his mother was laughing too much to follow along.
“Logan! Don’t tell me you don’t know how to slow.” His dad exclaimed as Logan bumped awkwardly into his mother again.
“It’s not like I’ve ever done it before. Nobody slows anymore, dad.”
“What a disgrace. My son should at least know how to slow. What if a pretty boy asks you to dance?”
Logan rolled his eyes but his dad was not to be dissuaded and grabbed him.
“Just follow along to the music.” He instructed.
They ran through the steps slowly and after a while, Logan felt himself loosen up a little. His steps became less mechanical and more like an actual dance.
He smiled as he imagined himself dancing like this with Roman, the other boy was sure to enjoy it, always one for outdated romantic gestures.
His mom laughed and then grabbed his father.
“As important as teaching our son outdated school dances is, I still need your help with dinner.”
They finished making dinner together while Logan set the table.
“ Lettuce eat.” His dad called as he set a bowl of salad down on the table and Logan groaned and hid his head in his hands.
“That pun was souper bad.” His mom groaned.
“Stop.” Logan whined.
“What, don’t you loaf my jokes?” His dad asked.
“They’re terrible.”
“I think they’re sub lime. ” His mom laughed.
Logan lay in his bed, the light from his phone lighting up his face as he waited for his parents to go to bed.
Finally Logan deemed it safe enough to leave and he slunk out of the house.
He walked through the silent neighbourhood till he reached the busier, less ideal parts of town.
There, he found Roman leaning against a wall, in a red leather jacket and heavy black boots, blending in with the crowd of people out on a friday night. Logan felt his heart stutter at the careless way Roman was slumped against the wall, his face cast in stark shadows by the neon lights from a nearby club.
He reminded Logan of the devil, of the incarnation of pride, everything about him inviting yet dangerous.
Logan stopped staring and walked over to join him, trying to lean against the wall with the same graceful abandon but only managing to look like an awkward stick.
“Hello, my dark night.” Roman said.
“You forgot the panties.”
“Oh no, what a tragedy. Guess I can’t be your Robin tonight. Maybe I can be your batwoman?”
“Batwoman’s gay, you dolt.”
“I mean, same.”
“And they’re cousins.”
“Yeah, nevermind.”
“Come on, we have a job to do.” Logan reminded him.
They stayed out all night. Skulking in the shadows and trailing couriers all over the city. Logan felt a strange thrill every time he looked over at Roman. His eyes glinted with excitement and adrenaline.
During the day, they were just teenagers, being pushed and shoved and keeping their heads down as they walked to class.
But now, they were so much more. They became a part of the city, let her bustling energy envelop them. They slipped out of their skin under the streetlights and let themselves disappear into the hubbub and danger that prowled the city streets.
They were angels bringing her justice, they were devils tearing her apart.
They hid behind dumpsters in cold alleyways and walked along the busy promenades, holding each other and pretending to get lost in the others touch, all the while keeping their eyes trained on their mission.
Finally, when the sky was turning a murky gray and Logan’s eyes felt gritty with sleep, they ended up on a bench two streets from Logan’s home. In the suburban neighbourhood, nothing was stirring and, even in the city, it was too early for even the earliest risers.
Roman curled up on the bench and stared at him. Logan stared right back, too tired to care about being seen as weird.
“Do you think it’ll work?” Roman asked, his voice breaking the quiet of the park.
“The evidence we have collected is irrefutable, as long as we take care to deliver it to the right people, there is no reason it shouldn’t.”
“Yeah, I know that. I meant Remus. You said he might not come back, even if he is relieved of his debts. What if he’s really just in it because, I don't know, he likes it? Or he just feels like he fits in there?”
“I don’t know your brother as well as you do. If you have faith in him, then I believe it will work.”
“That’s the thing, I don’t know if I have faith in him. He’s just… So different nowadays. It’s like I don’t even know him anymore.”
“Roman, it will be alright. Your brother may have made some mistakes, but it doesn’t mean he is changed forever. Sometimes people just have trouble figuring themselves out. And either way, whether he makes the right choice or not, at least we did our best.”
Roman smiled at him, his mascara smudged and the glow of the street light lighting up his frizzy hair in a halo of golden light.
“You’re a great friend, you know that right?”
“I try my best.” Logan said with a soft smile.
Roman sat up and leant forward. He reached out and gently traced his thumb over Logan’s jaw. Logan looked up into his eyes, his breath stopping somewhere along the path from his lungs to his mouth. Roman’s thumb came to a stop on his lips.
“Is this alright?” He whispered.
Logan just nodded, his usual eloquence rendered mute.
Roman moved in closer and gently, ever so gently, slotted his lips onto Logan’s.
It was soft, and sweet and when he drew back, he pressed his forehead to Logan’s with a bubbly laugh. He threaded his fingers through Logan’s hair.
Finally, after a long moment of his brain incoherently looping the last moment over and over again, he managed to regain some mobility and placed his hand over the one Roman had cupped around his cheek. He turned his head and placed a kiss on Roman’s palm.
“We’re going to change the world.” Roman breathed, ecstatic with sleep deprivation and adrenaline.
“Together.” Logan whispered back.
As Logan walked home that morning, he felt invincible, untouchable. All the grey days at school fell away, all the teasing and bullying and all the fear was suddenly gone.
He felt like he was soaring, floating somewhere high above his life. He was so much more than himself in that moment.
Maybe, he didn’t want this to end. However terrifying chasing after criminals was, that particular high almost made the danger worth it. He mourned the fact that it would be over soon. That they would put the gang away, file away the info they had collected and go back to school, alone in the knowledge of what they had done.
The ecstatic feeling faded when he entered his garden and noticed the front door was open. His blood ran cold.
Had his parents noticed his absence? He had no idea how he would explain this to them.
He entered the house quietly, trepidation burning in his stomach. Should he call out? Maybe he had just left the door open?
But Logan distinctly remembered checking it was locked before leaving.
Downstairs, all was quiet. Everything looked as it should have been except that muddy footprints tracked in from the door to the stairs.
That was disconcerting, there was a very strict ‘no shoes upstairs’ policy in the house.
Logan’s unease grew. He crept upstairs.
“Mom? Dad?” He called out hesitantly.
The house stayed dead quiet.
With a deep breath, he kept moving. He looked in his room first, as it was right next to the stairs.
The door was pulled open. Strange, Logan could swear he had closed it.
His breath hitched when he saw his room. All his drawers were pulled open. His papers were strewn out over the floor.
The box!
Logan found it upturned and shoved in a corner of the room. All the papers were gone. All the evidence they had collected missing.
Ice cold terror clenched around his heart.
They knew.
Without a second thought, he tore out of his room and ran to his parent’s room.
“Mom! Dad!” He choked off when he entered the room.
No! No, no, no, no!
This wasn't real. This was just a nightmare. He would wake up any second. This just couldn't be real.
Blood painted the walls and bedsheets. It looked like a scene from a horror movie, almost comical in its goriness. If he had seen this in a movie he would have scoffed at the overuse of fake blood.
He hesitantly stepped closer and kneeled next to his mother, who was sprawled out on the floor, her entire back a mess of torn flesh and blood and glistening things Logan didn’t want to examine too closely.
“Mom?” His voice came out waveringly.
He reached out. A pulse, he should look for a pulse. He tried to take her arm but recoiled from the blood that covered it.
It was warm and sticky and already seeping through his pants.
“Mom, wake up.” He whispered.
“Mom, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t here, I’m sorry I stayed out all night, just please, wake up.” He begged, like apologizing would fix anything.
She still wasn't moving and neither was his dad. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Logan was aware that begging wasn’t doing him any good. He needed to call for help.
But all that came out of his mouth were more pleas.
“Mom! Stop ignoring me! Just wake up!” He yelled and then he started crying, great gasping sobs that tore all the air from his lungs.
He needed them to wake up, he needed to feel their arms around him, needed their comfort. They couldn’t be gone. Not like this, not now, not when just an hour ago, Roman had kissed him, not when outside he could hear the trucks thundering by. This wasn’t real. It just couldn’t be.
He screamed, desperate and heartbroken.
Wake up .
His eyes got caught on a flash of green on the walls and he looked up.
On the wall, painted in a bright neon green, was the symbol he had been studying for months, the gang's symbol, a sword pointed downwards, and underneath it, like an artist’s tag, a sloppy R.
Logan felt anger curl in his gut. After everything they had done to help him, this was his answer.
He would pay.
This wasn’t the end. If they thought they could stop him with this, they were wrong. He would get his revenge, he would burn that gang to the ground and he would destroy Remus.
This was personal now.
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axther · 3 years
[1/3]Hi! i'd like a BNHA matchup? I'm a INFJ-T, female, virgo. I'm 5'11 and very insecure about my height, because of that I'm very awkward around people even people I'm comfortable with. I'm very shy and reserved, frankly judgmental with people I don't know. it’s something I'm trying to work on. those who I feel are trusting enough or even really worth of me as a friend, I cherish completely. I'd do anything to protect the people I care about.
#1 is...Todoroki!
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Oh my GOD
Y’all judge each other, on the spot 
It wasn’t even intentional, of course
But you see him and it’s an immediate ‘oh god an emotionally constipated rich boy’ 
And he sees you and thinks that you just straight-up hate everyone 
So y’all don’t talk. 
At all. 
There’s a strange tension between you two 
It’s not hate, but you two aren’t friends 
Until the sports festival 
And he becomes more social 
It makes him become more aware 
He thinks about how he had prejudices about people
So rather than dance around it 
He just walks up to you and asks if you hate him
You panic!! Naturally!!
And you clear it up, fast 
He’s relieved, of course
But now he feels bad, and you feel bad 
So he starts sticking to you
You guys haven’t talked much, but he still hangs around you 
It’s a weird symbiotic relationship
Your friends become his friends 
And little by little, he starts realising that you’re really pretty when you’re open 
And he’s not talking the sort of pretty that makes heads turn
But it’s a soft comfort
You fret over everyone in your friend circle and it makes his heart flutter, just a bit 
And you’re so tall!! 
In my humble opinion, todo would absolutely DIE of joy if his s/o was tall 
(actually, i think all the lads n gals would die of joy but eye-) 
Not only do most of the fangirls not fuck wit you!! 
But big spoon big spoon big spoon!!!
Take some of the responsibility to protect everyone off his shoulders
Because as soon as y’all are on the bed, your arms wrapped around him, 
He’s out like a light 
The boy even dreams about you omg 
You wake up in the middle of the night to hear him murmuring something about your hair 
And then turns and nuzzles into that shit and oh my god 
#2 is...Josuke! 
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Now listen
Josuke’s the same height as you 
And considering that the average Japanese woman’s height is 5’2
As SOON as he sees you, he’s that one gif from parks and rec where they zoom in on Chris pratt
Like he can and will stop you in the street and strike up a conversation 
Because holy shit!! This Jupiter of a woman can look him in the eye!! 
When I say it’s love at first sight I mean it’s on sight 
He sees you and he’s enraptured 
And as soon as he realises you’re so sweet, albeit a bit closed off
He makes it his personal goal to be close friends with you, if not more 
Can and will flaunt you around 
There are several repercussions 
One, Okuyasu is jealous as fuck because his type is motherly and soft 
Two, Koichi is even more dwarfed 
Three, Jotaro is surprised but pleasantly so! 
Let’s talk about one of my favourite aspects of dating a JJBA Part 3 and forward character
And here we’re going to assume you have a stand (something i feel that would be kinda omnipotent and not physical, like having a third eye that can see into the future or smth) 
Crazy Diamond: Crazy 
Like CD will hang around you as soon as you’re in range 
Somehow, CD will find a load of little gifts, even if they’re a bit unconventional 
What’re you going to do with a tonne of shiny rocks?? 
I don’t know but it will break CD’s heart if you throw them out 
(guess it’s time for a rock collection) 
It comes to a point that if you and Josuke have an argument, Josuke’ll be stubborn 
But CD will wail and cling to you like glue 
It’s certainly nice because CD shows how Josuke’s feeling
So arguments and unspoken problems are resolved a lot faster
Josuke’s not embarrassed by CD’s clinginess!! 
He’s like ‘fuck yeah my gf knows just how much I love her!!!’
#3 (tied with #4) is…Jotaro (Pt 3)! 
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Tsundere boye 
Will refuse for FOREVER to tell anyone he has a crush
But you make him super soft 
You aren’t fangirl-y so it’s certainly a breath of fresh air for him 
You’re calm and quiet and not too short 
(remember he’s like 6’2 so you don’t have to worry about being too tall!!!) 
He won’t admit it until you’re actually in a relationship, but he’s super confused about why you’re insecure about your tallness. 
He thinks it’s incredible 
You were literally born to run faster, fight better, be stronger 
It’s the same way with him, so it does make him sort of wonder if his height is bad 
He gets over it relatively quickly 
As much as he’s big and mean, he’s also VERY VERY SOFT.
Smiling gently when you’re not looking? Being super proud of your work? 
Soft kisses on the shoulder and watching you sleep next to him once he confesses? 
Once camera phones come out you bet your ass that the only pictures on his phone are candids of you 
He loves you so, so much 
While he feels that he’s a bit unwieldy in the romance department, he’s always there for you!! 
And it absolutely makes his heart swell with love if you tell him how much you love him and what you adore about him 
And don’t get me started on Star Platinum 
S-Plat adores you on a whole ‘nother level 
Rather than rocks like Josuke, S-Plat will give you actual stuff like magazines and drinks
You so much as glance for half a second too long at a set of paintbrushes, or a trinket?? 
S-Plat is there with it in hand, and Joot’s got his hat tilted down with a furious blush 
S-Plat loves hugging you!!! 
He’s a cuddle monster, even though Jotaro won’t act like it for a long, long time 
He will hang off your shoulders and refuse to disappear unless you tell him to, something that bothers Jotaro a lot, actually 
Does that mean you’re okay if he did it? Are Stands technically sentient, but just obey out of obligation? 
S-Plat’s super protective of you, too
While Jotaro is scared shitless something will happen to you, he respects your space and lets you do your own thing 
But oh lord
If there’s a Stand attack and you get hurt, S-Plat can and will go apeshit. 
I mean this in the most literal sense possible 
Everyone will be howling for S-Plat not to kill the Stand user, not to hurt him anymore 
But Jotaro glances at you out of the corner of his eye and sees your limp body 
There’s a furious, cold steel gleam in his eye
He’s purely emotionless
But Star Platinum is screaming, sobbing, torn between taking care of you and ripping the Stand user to shreds. 
Everyone can see that it’s impacting Jotaro on an incredibly deep level
And that’s probably how most of the Stardust Crusaders found out, honestly 
Because when someone is ready to kill for you (and almost does), doesn’t that say more than enough? 
#4 (Tied with #3) is...Jonathan! 
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This king would treat you so well 
Folks call him a simp but they’re fools 
He would treat you so gently 
It’s almost like he thinks you’re delicate
Of course, you’re not, but it’s an incredibly cushy lifestyle 
Being pampered by your rich boyfriend who wouldn’t so much as glance at any other girls if you even vaguely mentioned it??? 
You paint him something?? 
The next time you visit, it will be front and centre by the staircase 
You write something for him? 
He has it in his pocket, constantly, and reads it when he needs a breather. 
He adores you endlessly and wants to marry you, 100%
He’s here for the long run!! 
After the first fight with Dio, he’s stressing to you how much he just wants to live well with you 
(personally, i write within the Eyes Of Heaven AU, and Jonathan lives, goddamnit) 
After the second and third fights, he drops as much of the fighting life as he can 
The last thing he wants is to die on you and leave you a widow 
You tease him on how big-hearted he is at times, but takes it all with an open mind 
He thinks that when you get upset, it’s adorable 
You’re much shorter than him, so he just wraps you up in a big ‘ol hug 
But if you’re angry at him, he won’t 
He feels like it invalidates your anger, and the last thing he wants is to make you feel bad 
The kind of arguments you guys would have would be like ‘You got me the best present!’ v ‘No, you got me the best present!!’ 
The amount of softness...its tangible 
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takaraphoenix · 5 years
OK OK OK So I really really fell in love with your Helios x Apollo story and I've been toying with asking you about writing a small thing about Helios' reaction to Zeus banishing Apollo? And what he does about it. Or just his reaction to Zeus /trying/ to banish Apollo. A sort of fix-it-so-it-never-happens type thing. Totes get you're bogged down with stuff so if you don't have time that's totally okay. If you do decide to do it, could I get it by January 4th?
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || (You are here)|| The whole thing on AO3
Helios was exhausted.
His duties were straining in on themselves, but in the past years in particular. After all, his lover was very busy with Olympian duties - mainly so related to his prophetic gifts. So Helios, being the good, caring boyfriend he was, of course took over some of his lover’s duties. Mainly the sun-related ones.
Only that his duties had been very straining and distracting lately. Especially the closer the Giant War drew. Helios hated that. He wished to stand by his lover’s side, have Apollo’s back.
Apollo had smiled sweetly at him, those mismatched eyes sparkling brightly as he had leaned up on his tip-toes to kiss Helios’ cheek and then shove him hard.
His little sunshine was a fighter, not just a lover. Helios knew that. Of course did he know that. The only one matching him with a bow and arrow was his twin-sister Artemis. Apollo could hold himself in a fight if he had to.
That didn’t mean Helios wanted him in the middle of a fight though. A war no less.
Yet this one… was different.
Gods loved using demigods as pawns. But this war required the gods to also fight themselves. To slay the Giants at the demigods’ side.
Helios trusted his sunshine. He knew Apollo would be fine during the war. And now that the war was over, Helios was looking forward to embracing his lover again, just grab Apollo, take him home and live in peace for a century or two.
Maybe take some time off to spend in Alfheim? They did have this cozy little vacation home there… It would be nice. And Apollo surely would be happy to spend more time with his best friend Frey. That might sway Apollo.
And to be honest, that idea wasn’t so spontaneous. Helios had spent the past few weeks preparing said vacation home, making it as homey as possible for his love. Apollo deserved the rest.
“Helios, my dear, old friend.”
Helios paused. He didn’t turn around. That sweet voice, like poisoned honey. A scowl etched its way onto his face as he took a deep breath to turn around and give Loki Laufeyson a piece of his mind. Said piece of mind was stuck in his throat when he noticed that Loki wasn’t alone.
“Hel Lokisdatter. A rare pleasure, milady”, stated Helios, voice very soft as he bowed.
He knew to respect a king or queen when he met them, regardless what pantheon they were from. Hel offered him the smallest smile in return, a shy one. Her long hair fell into her face, covering the rotting half and only revealing the beautiful one. Her dress, long sleeves on one side, a glove that reached all the way up to her shoulder in addition to it. She half hid behind her father and Loki, as always, stood in a protective stance in front of his only daughter.
The trickster had a pleased half-smirk on his face as he regarded Helios curiously, fingers playing with his well-groomed goaty as he tilted his head. It were his eyes that had always unsettled Helios, if he was being honest. Green as poison, shimmering silver with lies and danger.
Helios stood straight, looking at the two Norse gods curiously. What were they doing in Alfheim? Loki preferred… Well, none really, he was always everywhere - wherever he could cause most mischief. But Hel? The queen of Helheim? Why would the Ice Queen seek the realm of the sun god? Helios could see how clearly uncomfortable the goddess was, looking a bit red-cheeked there.
“Listen, this isn’t a favor for you, Titan”, stated Loki, voice unusually serious.
“A favor?”, echoed Helios surprised. “What do you want, lie smith?”
Helios was startled as Loki threw a golden apple at him. Helios blinked slowly, eyes wide as he stared at the holy fruit. The immortality granting fruit, guarded by the Goddess Iduna for all the gods and pantheons (though she had gardeners assisting her from all the pantheons too. The Hesperides from the Graeco-Romans, for example). Not many knew that ambrosia, the food of the gods that granted them immortality, was actually made, among other ingredients, of the golden apples.
“Father speaks the truth”, pieped Hel up, looking displeased. “That’s why I’m here. I know how unreasonably unrealistic that statement is.”
“Hey. A bit more respect for your old man”, grunted Loki with a glare.
Hel gave him a deadpan look before returning her attention to Helios once more. “Your Olympians have decided to strip one of your own off his immortality. Your king couldn’t make that decision without Hades knowing. After all, a god now runs the danger of being killed and dying. And, well, when I was in the park with my puppy Garm last week, we walked with Hades and Zerberus for a while and he mentioned it. And when I heard who…”
Helios didn’t like where this was going. He gripped the apple tighter. Loki’s smirk grew more knowing and wicked. Helios had the urge to throw the apple into his pretty face.
“My dear daughter told me and I could not let it stand like that”, drawled Loki. “I mean, he is my best friend’s favorite brother. Hermes would be quite unbearable if something happened to precious Apollo.”
“Then why not go to Hermes?”, asked Helios, still suspicious.
“Ah”, grunted Loki with a careless shrug. “Daddy issues. You know the guy can’t go up agains Zeus. You? A Titan? This could be… entertaining.”
Helios gritted his teeth and averted his eyes to stare at the floor. Loki and Hel remained for a long stretch of silence. He really didn’t like Loki - mainly because Loki and Apollo had kind of a fling prior to Helios and Apollo getting together. Helios wasn’t a fan of how much Loki enjoyed reminding him of this.
“Thank you, Loki. You… have my grattitude”, grunted Helios out unwillingly. “You too, Queen Hel.”
The self-satisfied smile on Loki’s face made Helios really want to throw the apple. “My, it would be a shame if something so pretty would be wasted. Just… take care of this, Titan.”
“I will, Eldojotun”, replied Helios sharply, watching with satisfaction how Loki flinched.
The Aes did not like being reminded that his status as a god was an earned one and that, foremost, he was still a born Fire Giant. Loki sneered at him briefly before returning to his charming smile.
“Very well then. Come along, sweetie. Grandma invited us for tea and cake”, declared Loki, waving a dismissive hand in Helios’ general direction.
“Oh! Grandma Laufey makes the best cakes. Bye, Helios”, chimed Hel, seemingly far more motivated by that prospect.
With that, the two Norse gods disappeared. Leaving Helios with his apple.
“W–Who in the world…?”, grunted a startled teenager.
The boy, with messy black hair, stared up at Helios with surprised, sea-green eyes. Helios only spared the human one glance before turning to the one in the boy’s company. A scowl found its way onto Helios’ face as he threw the golden apple at his boyfriend. Apollo smiled brighter than the sun as he caught it.
“Oh! Wonderful. Early rescue. Just started wondering where our new little dynamic duo was going to head next to solve this little… problem of mine”, chimed Apollo happily, rubbing the apple against his robes. “Huh. Those things are not handed out easily. Iduna is possessive of them. How did you…?”
“A thief dropped it off”, growled Helios and grabbed Apollo by the arm. “Come.”
“…I don���t like it when you’re angry”, noted Apollo dubiously. “Are you… angry with me?”
“No”, replied Helios, the growl growing darker as the sky above them clouded over. “Someone else. I’m glad you’re fine, my love.” His voice grew gentler at that as he cupped Apollo’s cheek and checked him for injuries before turning toward the human. “Thank you, for protecting my sunshine. I am indebted to you. If any god gives you a hard time again, call for Helios and I will stand by your side.”
“A free favor from a god. That’s a new one. Cool.”
Apollo wrapped one arm aroung Helios’ neck, the other hand still holding the apple as he brought it up to his rosy lips and took a large bite from it. To grand immortality, one needed a whole apple. The tiny bit that was mushed into the ambrosia was enough to keep the immortality going for the gods, but it would never be enough to restore Apollo’s godhood. Apollo yelped as Helios teleported them away.
The sky around Olympus darkened as though night had come early. Zeus frowned confused. He knew Helios was taking care of the sun - it was the main reason why he had even gotten his punishment for Apollo through.
“How dare you”, roared an angry, dark voice.
Zeus sat up straighter on his throne as the Sun Titan materialized in front of him, looking like a vicious, avenging angel. There were still many Titans around and the general rule of thumb was to perhaps not anger them. They were ancient and also powerful in most cases. Zeus blinked as he spotted his son behind Helios. The son Zeus had only just banished from Olympus.
“Apollo”, growled Zeus in warning.
“No”, hollered Helios.
“You broke an Oath of Styx twice, siring two demigods.
You interfered and turned one of them into a tree to cheat Death himself.
You are the king and were responsible to keep things such as Tartarus secure yet you allowed for your Father to reform and nearly overthrow you.
You let a teenage boy steal your symbol of power.
You let your son Ares allign himself with Kronos during the Titan War without repercussions.
You let your wife make a fool out of you by playing with the memories of the heroes and having Romans and Greeks mingle, single-handedly throwing all of Olympus into an identity crisis that very well nearly cost you all your lives and this war.
And yet here you are, acting like you are the one, true king who does no wrong. Punishing Apollo for… What exactly did he do wrong? He has helped your little pawns during both wars. He has done his best to restore the Oracle after it had been lost because you had to anger Lord Hades.”
Helios had stalked up to Zeus and by now was lifting the young god up by his throat, a nasty expression on Helios’ face as he squeezed. No amount of thundering and sparks was going to get Zeus out of the supernova-hot burning fury of a Sun Titan.
“You will never lay a hand on Apollo again or you will find yourself right down there alongside your father”, growled Helios in warning. “Believe me, no one is pleased with you and Hera anymore. The past handful of years alone have proven what incapable rulers you have become. You allowed not one, not two, but four major wars to happen right under your nose within the last century alone. And so far, the only thing keeping from a revolution is that everyone is still licking their wounds. But so help me Chaos herself, if you ever lay hand on Apollo again, I will personally throw the first speer.”
Zeus looked positively mortified as Helios just dropped him. Still glowering, Helios went to his lover and picked Apollo up bridal-style before teleporting them to Alfheim. Apollo blinked dazed up at him as he slowly oriented himself.
“That was… really fucking hot”, grunted Apollo stunned. “My knight in golden-shining armor.”
Grinning and batting his eyelashes playfully, Apollo pulled Helios down into a kiss. “We’re taking a vacation. Right now.”
“No arguments from me, babe”, hummed Apollo pleased.
So you caught me on the right foot there. Because I just got back from seeing Thor: Ragnarok and I needed some comfort. Fics are comfort. And I found a nice way of including Hel and Loki in this too. Pleased by that. I hope this was the kind of comfort you were looking for too there? ;)
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karatam · 6 years
I only have one problem with the Wonder Woman movie and that's Steve. Now, I didn't mind him, but also don't understand why people think he's so great. He's cocky, and not very interesting, and I disliked that his death was the whole driving force for the end of the movie. Like to me it seems like the fact that he's not an asshole is the sole reason why people like him. I really WANT to like him so if someone can shed some lights on his good qualities that'd be cool.
not a problem (and it’s okay if you still don’t like him, not every character is for everybody)
I’d say that he is a good man in a terrible war, that he’s loyal and smart and brave.
for the cocky thing, I'm thinking you're refering to that scene of him coming out of the bath? honestly, I think we can chalk a lot of that up to the fact that a beautiful woman just walking in on him naked, seemed kind of unimpressed, and then mainly asked questions about his watch. it's mostly played for humor, and that kind of cockiness and pride mostly disappears from the movie once they get to our world
as for the interesting, for me, I came at it from the perspective that he is a spy in the bloodiest war the world had ever seen up until that point, mainly tasked with keeping an eye on the most cruel scientist and general on the german side
he’s seen terrible things and probably done terrible things in the name of freedom for Europe
mankind, in his view, seem to do nothing but hurt each other. politicians and generals play chess with the lives of men and women that Steve knows, men and women that Steve has seen die. and yet he continues in his role, because like he said “if you can’t do nothing, do something”
he had tried to stay out of it (after all, he is American, and the US did not enter the war until 1917), but he could not stand idly by while the world burned. he’s charming and smart and can blend in, he made the perfect kind of spy
and then he landed on Themyscira, and experienced for a short while a world he didn’t realize could exist
(also, he saw the head of the Amazonian army ride into battle at the head of the cavalry charge and die to protect one of her own, while the war leaders he knew sat in conference rooms in London)
and he met Diana, who was so single-minded in what she believed was her purpose. he wasn’t sure she could do what she said (I mean, I doubt anyone fresh from WW1 would honestly think a single person, no matter how strong, could change the entire war), but she also gave him a way off the island, and he needed to get to London.
when faced with orders to let it go, to leave Ludendorff alone, he immediately decides to ignore those orders, because it's the right thing to do. he knows that he can save people, even if he's also sure that he will probably die in the attempt.
in the alley, when they are ambushed by Maru’s men, he immediately understands that what she can do is more than what a normal person can and is very willing to let her take the lead in beating up bad guys
and again, in No Man's land, as soon as he sees that Diana is basically indestructible (and that the reason he originally said she couldn't go - that she'd be mowed down by a machine gun - was moot), he rallies the men to follow her lead. she charges ahead and he follows with the gang. then, he remembers how the Amazons fought on the beach and decides to do the same for Diana, lifting her on a metaphorical shield to win the day
I've seen people say that he says "no" to Diana too often, but he's mainly saying it because either a) they need to keep a low profile and as a spy he understands what they need to do that and Diana walking around with a sword and shield is not exactly inconspicuous, or b) what she wants to do would 100% kill a normal human being and he didn't yet know that she's a nearly indestructible demi-god. the one "no" I think he really wishes he didn't have to say was trying to stop her from killing Ludendorff in high command. but he knew that an armistice was being negotiated and that killing an important german general in the middle of high command is the kind of thing that leads to terrible repercussions (i.e. more lives lost as the war drags on), and that taking down Ludendorff and Maru needed to happen elsewhere.
his friends are loyal, to each other and to him. not in awe or anything, but the kind of friendship that comes from standing together against terrible odds and knowing that they can rely on each other no matter what. (and, it does help in my book that his friends aren't all white dudes, that they show that even though it was a different time, every person could make the choice themselves)
he's good, at the heart of things. he's a good, decent man who will fight and lay down his life to protect the innocent.
he loved her, even in the short time he knew her, because how could he not? (there's a reason we also all fell in love with Diana immediately, and he's no exception)
and she loved him, because at the end of the day, even she came to think that if it wasn't Ares doing this, that it was just human kind all along, he was still good and brave and kind
so when he died, sacrificing himself for others, she gave into the rage that had been simmering inside of her since she arrived at the front. rage at Ares, rage at war, rage at the violence mankind wrought on each other. I get how it can seem like all her power came from just that moment, but I think it's mostly a trigger, the last straw, to unleashing her power. when that gas bomb fell on the town of Veld, if Ares had been in front of her, giving her a target and egging her on, I think she would have gone full demi-god right then.
as she doubts whether humanity is worth saving, if they can do all of this to each other with only slight prodding from Ares, he knows how she feels. he’s seen some of the terrible things we can do when we set our minds to it, but he also knows the good we can do. he and his friends are her reminder that mankind can be good, that they can choose the right path, even if it might be a long one
sorry, that was a lot of rambling that I'm not sure really answered your question?
I mainly just liked him immediately, because good earnest people facing down hatred and terror without giving in is a thing that just gets to me.
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