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shameonmeeguiltypleasure · 2 years

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Ramblings! Read at Own Risk!

(SMB Author rambles about: Experience writing for SMB/ Polin as a ship / Anti-Polin posts & opinions)

I don’t know about other Authors or fic writers, but when I write my chapters – especially when I’m at an important point for the character’s chemistry, development, and journey – I always need to re-read the story from the beginning.

(This all came about because of SMB chapter 10)

I was getting a bit in my head (again) and was worried the tension had become too much and the wait wouldn’t be worth it. (The increase in anti-Polin opinions I’ve come across on TIKTOK and in the TUMBLR Polin tag played a part as well)

It was enough of a worry I decided to read SMB from the Prologue to where Chapter 10 currently ends.

It took me two days to read “Seducing Mr Bridgerton” from the beginning to (current) end.

And while I don’t feel the excitement a REAL reader would feel, I can understand why it’s gained attention. When I started SMB I only wanted to highlight the dark romance Julia Quinn gave potential to. I wanted to twist Penelope’s love into obsession, Colin’s temper into Possessive Aggression.

Here’s a glimpse at my OneNote for SMB:

(I didn’t follow my notes exactly, but it’s a comfort to have it available for reminders 😊)

And I can honestly say…. I think I’ve done a decent job of getting that across.

Because here’s the truth about Penelope and Colin as characters…. At the end of the day, they would always be in each other’s lives either as a friend, a lover, a what if or somebody they used to know.

This – I’ve discovered – is the true reason I’m a Polin stan.

I’ve noticed some opinions claim that Colin deserves better, or Penelope deserves better. I’ve read posts where Colin is hated, or Penelope is hated. It was frustrating to read those types of posts and not respond to any of them. In some ways, their right, Colin could have paired with someone better than Penelope (whether it be in wealth, personality, looks etc)… but it would be an entirely different kind of love and Colin would be an entirely different sort of character. Flip it around and apply it to Penelope, the same situation.

POLIN is a ship that CHAMPIONS Penelope and Colin as a couple and as individuals.

Personally, my favourite thing about writing for SMB is the undeniable loyalty and desire shared between Colin and Penelope. The fact they are the only ones insecure about the return of their feelings while the rest of the world is screaming for them to get married already. I find that completely hilarious and fun.

My favourite quotes from SMB so far are:

“It was madness. She was the temptation of madness. But Colin struggled to stop himself from wanting the experience.” (SMB, chp 6)

“The world could not have him. The ton did not deserve him. Only Penelope, always Penelope – the wallflower of the ton.” (SMB, chp 9)

It’s the shameless obsession they have for one another, the magnetic uncontrollable craving for each other and the barefaced threatening they do out of warning and jealousy.

When I caught up to SMB chp 10, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh like an overlord or scream at myself for all the bloody teasing. (Yeah… my sincere apologies for all the teasing SMB readers….). They’re not even MARRIED yet!! It’s Chapter 10 and they just KISSED!! How are WE (including myself because I don’t even know how -) GOING TO SURVIVE THEM TOGETHER!!??!

I also realized that when writing SMB, traditional Love/romance is an afterthought. Why? Because actions speak louder than words and the only two who need to hear the words are Colin and Penelope. What I’m writing is their (unofficial) courtship, their blatant showing of their extremes.

[“Can you handle this? My temper, my cruelty, my selfish desires?” “Can you accept me? My manipulations, my insecurities, my selfish need to have all of you?” “If the answer is yes then be prepared to never be rid of me.” – deleted draft of Polin confession]

I’ve re-read “Romancing Mr Bridgerton” over and over (basically after every SMB chapter)…. And the only real drama in the book is Lady Whistledown’s identity reveal and Colin’s mood swings.

I’ve noted that everyone wants to know more about Sir Lee – especially how he’d interact with Lady Whistledown, but SMB is Penelope and Colin’s story. At most, you’ll be reading how Sir Lee and Lady Whistledown met but the depths of their characters – the true danger of both their personalities and ambitions – won’t be revealed till “Loving Mrs Bridgerton”.

Another big worry I had was my Penelope. I’ve noticed (because this applies to me as well as a reader) that female characters get the most judgment and harshest considerations. It’s a bit sad that even in the fictional world, females still have to fight for the rights of their choices. Canon Penelope has been getting a lot of dislikes both for the show and the book. I’ve read quite a few people’s reasonings for why, and while some were well argued, some were just plain cruel.

So, I considered MY Penelope and thought ‘ if this was being said about canon Penelope, how did it not apply to mine?’ and I realized…. None of it mattered because MY Penelope knows exactly who she is.

She is a woman who has done the unthinkable and earned a position of power and wealth over the very same people who dismissed her as ‘unfortunate and unpopular’.

My Penelope only had one true insecurity…. And that was the fact she was hopelessly cursed with what she believed to be an unrequited ‘OBSESSION’ with Colin Bridgerton. Everything else about herself she accepted and embraced. She would never be thin, she would never be popular, she might never marry, but so what? She was Lady Whistledown, and the TON was paying her to JUDGE them because of HER talent with words.

That, dearest readers, is why I am SHAMELESSLY proud to be a Penelope/Polin (+Colin) stan.

Because JQ created a character who INSPIRES!!

A character who CAN stand alone if she only she realized her strength and worth!

Because…

“Isn’t it nice… to discover that we’re not exactly what we thought we were?” (Romancing Mr Bridgerton, Pg63, Julia Quinn)

This Author thanks you for reading their nonsense and indulging my procrastinating ways

#the author rambles #Don't bother reading my nonsense unless you're bored #no thoughts head empty just polin #im procastinating #POLIN SHIP #Shipper talk #Romancing Mr Bridgerton #seducing mr bridgerton #Julia Quinn #polin #fanfiction #fanfiction writing

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leefi · 3 years

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hsy's anger at yjh not completing their manuscript and his quiet insistence that he made the right choice...hsy with her perspective as an author fretting that his choice will disappoint readers (and therefore lead to the story being forgotten)...while yjh, after having lived a predetermined life with so many things set for him, recognizes the freedom an open ending grants to all of its characters to continue the story beyond the book...and giving all of us as incarnations of the oldest dream the opportunity to imagine our own

#i've seen a lot of takes online upset/almost devastated about the ending but i genuinely loved it. i thought it was #extremely narratively satisfying and read it as a happy one #you have to keep in mind that with 99% dokja that 1% isn't eternally trapped in space‚ lonely and forgotten #it's not the same situation as the MAD at the beginning of the prologues where he's trapped for eternity #that 1% was reincarnated and the rest of him is back with kimcom #also - hsy and yjh both split in half and are technically halves of themselves rn. so really kdj got the best end of this deal LMAO #i literally made a joke to myself like 'alright yjh and hsy had their turns - when is kdj gonna split in half' LMDJSSHHDHDHD #ayah reads orv #orv epilogues #it was a really good ending!! the emotional devastation came before but by the last chapter #I'd made peace with an open ending unsure as to whether or not kdj got to wake up #and then i got to the end of the chapter and almost cried because in those very last words we get #instilled in us the belief that they succeeded #orv spoilers #anyway I'd love to hear others thoughts #because im still trying to parse through everything

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septembercfawkes · 3 years

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The Backbone of Cliffhangers & 4 Types

I've heard a lot of audience members say that they hate cliffhangers. But do you want to know a secret? I kinda love a good cliffhanger (along with everything else I'm not supposed to love, like *cough cough* prologues *cough cough* teasers).

So today we are going to talk about cliffhangers: why we should use them, mistakes people make with them, and four different types. I'll probably be bringing up some points you hadn't thought of before, so even if you don't much like cliffhangers, you might want to stick around. Who knows, maybe you'll have more respect for them by the end.

And in case you need a little refresher, a cliffhanger is when the narrative suddenly cuts away from showing or revealing something important to the audience. This creates suspense by leaving a critical issue unresolved. It lacks closure.

Why Use Cliffhangers?

If people say they hate cliffhangers, why use them?

The answer you will hear most often is that by delaying information, we get the audience to stick around longer. We get them to turn the next page, start the next episode, or buy the next book.

While that is a valid reason, I admit it sounds shallow. I think there is more to them than that.

Cliffhangers are great for another reason: They get the audience to participate in the story.

One of the best things about cliffhangers is the fact they cut away from an intense moment. This often forces the audience to pause and think.

If a murderer is about to be unmasked, this gives the audience a moment to pause and think who they think the murderer is. It may give them a second to change their guess as to who the murderer is.

If something shocking just happened, it gives the audience a moment to consider the ramifications of that.

If a confrontation is about to take place, a cliffhanger gives the audience a second to anticipate how that is going to play out.

In some cases, a cliffhanger may simply get the audience to participate by asking "What would you do?"

Other than that, cliffhangers are great at emphasizing tense situations. By abruptly cutting away, we force the audience to sit with shock, worry, wonder, or what have you, a little longer.

It can make the moment feel a little more dramatic.

As an audience member, I often love cliffhangers for the second reason: I am asked to pause and think. If a cliffhanger comes at the end of an installment in a series, it gives me time to talk with others about what I think might happen next or what I think the cliffhanger means.

However, not all cliffhangers function the same, and not all ask for much participation.

Nonetheless, cliffhangers aren't always about torturing the audience. Sometimes there is a method to all the madness. 😉

Cliffhanger Mistakes (& Rule Breaking)

While cliffhangers can work well to keep an audience interested in a story, they can't replace other elements of a good story.

Sometimes newer writers will throw in a cliffhanger to try to make the story interesting.

But really, ideally, no story should need cliffhangers to be interesting (more on this in a sec). No story should need cliffhangers to keep the audience reading. A strong story should be able to do that without them.

Cliffhangers are a tool that, when properly used, enhance what is already there.

They aren't meant to create tension and suspense over nothing. (Usually--all rules can be broken).

Another problem that can come up is when a writer uses cliffhangers and then doesn't deliver on what's promised. This makes the moment anticlimactic.

For example, say the protagonist runs into a room to find his loved one bleeding, then we cut away. This is the cliffhanger. When the story cuts back to the scene, the blood turns out to actually be ketchup. This will probably be a disappointment to the audience because they expected something serious.

In other words, it undercuts the tension the story has built up.

It tried to make something out of nothing.

If a writer does this repeatedly, the story loses power and can begin to drag, or worse, become annoying.

However, like everything, this is not to say you can never undercut the build-up effectively. A writer may want to undercut the tension and then surprise the audience with something worse.

So maybe the blood is actually ketchup--the protagonist relaxes, the loved one laughs, the audience breathes a sigh of relief (and maybe even gives an eye roll)--and then BAM! A burglar breaks into the house!

Okay, that may be a little dramatic, but you get the idea. The point is to undercut the tension only to surprise the audience soon after. In this sense, the writer arguably still delivers on the promise of danger, but in an unexpected (though still satisfying) way.

Sometimes undercutting tension can be useful in playing with the audience's expectations. I'm sure we've all seen scary movies like this: a babysitter walks down a long dark hall while creepy music crescendoes--only to have her phone ring innocently and make us jump. Later in the story, something actually scary may happen instead. This can make it difficult for the audience to anticipate the emotional outcome. It can also help set the tone of the piece.

So it's not always bad to break the rules--which in this case would mean, they aren't really "mistakes" since they are done intentionally.

The main thing is not to write cliffhangers that are ultimately going to be a disappointment or to write a story that relies only on cliffhangers to get the audience to keep reading.

Understanding the Backbone of Cliffhangers

For the next bit, I'm going to talk a little about story structure, and then relate it back to cliffhangers, so stay with me.

As we've talked about before, in a well-structured story, everything makes this shape--whether it's a scene, sequence, act, or whole story. And it can even fit in smaller pieces inside a scene. It's essentially like a nesting doll or a fractal.

The climactic moment is sometimes called a turning point because it "turns" the direction of the story.

This moment can only be one of two things (well, or both of them): a revelation, or an action.

These are the only two ways to turn a story.

This is most obvious in the overall plot level because that is what we are most familiar with. THEE climactic moment will either be a revelation or an action and often it's both.

It might be a revelation that leads to an action. Or it might be an action that leads to a revelation.

For example, the protagonist may have an epiphany (a revelation, and often a thematic one) that informs him how to defeat the antagonist, so the protagonist takes that action. Alternatively, the protagonist takes an action to defeat the antagonist, and the result leads to a realization. (Generally speaking.)

Whatever it is, and in whatever it is (scene, sequence, act, or whole plot), that's the turning point.

If you are working with a unit smaller than the whole plot, this shape then repeats itself, for example:

This means that in a great story, you will have plenty of turning points--it's just that a turning point of a scene may be smaller and less dramatic than the climactic turning point of the whole plot, but it's nonetheless significant.

For example, the climactic moment of a murder mystery may be unmasking the serial killer.

But the climactic moment of the opening scene may be discovering the dead body of his first victim.

This means, that ideally, you will be having lots and lots of turning points throughout a story. If every scene has a turning point, that means you'll have at least one turning point in each scene (yeah, I know, that sounds redundant, but bear with me).

This innately creates a story that keeps readers interested because the situation is constantly changing and evolving.

If the structure of your story is solid, then creating a cliffhanger isn't so much about asking "How do I come up with a great cliffhanger?" but instead, "Where do I cut away to make a great cliffhanger?"

In short, this means you use the cliffhanger to enhance the story that already exists. You don't use it to substitute an element.

Now, with that said, it's possible to brainstorm a cliffhanger on a whim and then work it in as an important component of a story. The creative process can become a chicken vs. egg experience.

The idea is not to rely on cliffhangers to make a story compelling.

So next we will talk about four types of cliffhangers based on the basic structure, then I will use an example to show multiple places that would work well to create a cliffhanger.

The four types of cliffhangers for this post are called: Pre-point Cliffhanger, Climactic Cliffhanger, Post-point Cliffhanger, and Post-hook Cliffhanger.

They don't really have official names, so that's me making them up.

Let's dig in!

1. Pre-point Cliffhanger

In the Pre-point Cliffhanger, the narrative is cut just before the turning point. It might cut to a different plotline or it might be the end of the chapter or what have you. But the cliffhanger works by building up to the point with a rising action and then making the audience wait for the climactic moment.

If you are a cliffhanger-hater, this is probably the type you hate most 😆. The story builds up to a critical moment, only to have it interrupted.

As an example of a Pre-point Cliffhanger, say we are following the Mystery Gang as they investigate something supernatural. Just as they are about to unmask the ghost/zombie/banshee/whatever, the show cuts to a commercial. That's what this cliffhanger is like.

Another example may be a detective who's just about to put all the clues together, when the chapter ends and the text switches to another plotline.

In some cases, the character may actually reach that turning point, but the audience doesn't. For example, we could show and imply that the detective has solved the case, but not share with the audience what her realization is.

Or alternatively, we could show Fred from the Mystery Gang unmask the ghost, but not show who the ghost actually is.

All of these examples relate to a turning point based on a revelation, but you can do this with an action turning point as well.

You may have the antagonist whip out a gun to shoot the protagonist's best friend and cut away just before he pulls the trigger.

In a Pre-point Cliffhanger, the audience is usually anticipating an outcome or result.

2. Climactic Cliffhanger

In a Climactic Cliffhanger, the story cuts away mid-turning point. I could just as well call it a "Mid-point Cliffhanger" except that that creates ambiguity, since "midpoint" is already an existing writing term.

Some climactic moments have more than one turn. Remember how I gave an example earlier, about a climax that utilizes both a revelation and an action? Sometimes you can cut away between the two to create a great cliffhanger.

The protagonist may have a massive realization that begs immediate action. Get to the realization, make sure it implies a necessary action, and then cut away. That will keep the audience wanting to come back for more (or give them time to react or think).

It is not necessary that the turns be opposite types. You can sever two revelations, or you can sever two actions.

For example, you may set up a climactic moment that implies, if so-and-so does this, the protagonist will have to do that. If the antagonist aims at the protagonist's friend and pulls the trigger, the protagonist will have to jump in front of the speeding bullet because the friend is necessary to save the world and he is not. You can cut away after the trigger is pulled and before the protagonist jumps out.

Obviously what works and what doesn't depends on the setup and rising action, and in order to do this cliffhanger, the climactic moment must have multiple turns.

3. Post-point Cliffhanger

A Post-point Cliffhanger happens (you guessed it,) after the turning point.

This may not work in all situations.

But often just after a turning point, the audience is left wondering, Now what will they do? Or perhaps they will be looking for meaning, But why did that happen?

Let's look back at the Mystery Gang.

Fred unmasks the ghost.

It's George the electrician!

The next question that innately comes up is, why? Why did George do this? What is his motive?

The show creates a cliffhanger by cutting to a commercial, so we have time to wonder about George.

This is a revelation example. Let's consider an action.

The antagonist shoots the protagonist's friend, but the protagonist jumps in front and gets hit instead. Another ally quickly subdues the antagonist, but the protagonist lies bleeding out.

The next question that comes up is, will the protagonist be okay? What will happen now?

I'll tell you what--it's time to cut away and create a Post-point Cliffhanger!

In a Post-point Cliffhanger, the audience is anticipating meaning and explanation (why?), and wondering what the new direction or goal will be (now what?).

(To some extent, as a lot of these concepts overlap.)

4. Post-hook Cliffhanger

Basic story structure is a repeating shape. This means after the falling action, we will begin a new rising action. Often this starts with a hook or an incident that disrupts the characters' course. You can create a great cliffhanger by cutting away just after that hook or disruption.

A great place you will see this sort of thing used a lot is in a series. We have the climax of the plot, the falling action, and then there is a subtle new rising action--the promise of future problems--which can be developed into a cliffhanger.

For example, perhaps our protagonist defeats a supernatural villain. She goes home as we have the falling action. All seems safe. But in the last chapter, we show that the supernatural villain is actually still alive, and his apparent "defeat" is actually part of a bigger master plan. He releases something deadly that will strike the protagonist's loved ones. Then the book ends.

That is what this cliffhanger looks like.

But it can happen on a smaller scale, too. We could have the falling action of a scene, then the beginning of the next scene, then bam, something that gets us to fear or dread or wonder about what happens next, before we cut away to something else.

The Post-hook Cliffhanger usually occurs after something unexpected or after laying out the stakes. This begins to build the next rising action.

A word to the wise: The reason I mentioned this cliffhanger last is because it's pretty much impossible to open a brand-new story with a cliffhanger. And a cliffhanger is only really a cliffhanger after the audience has gotten invested in the story.

I mean, you can't really start a story with a cliffhanger, because there is no build-up yet. What you can do is build up to the very first turning point and create a cliffhanger. But the very first hook can't really be a cliffhanger--at least not very easily. I mean, it'd be way too early to cut away!

Placing the Cliffhanger (Example of all 4 Types)

As I said earlier, if your story is structured well, it will have a lot of turning points (and hooks), so the question becomes, where do we sever the story to create a great cliffhanger? Not how do we throw in a great cliffhanger? (Generally speaking.)

Not every placement will work for every scene. For example, sometimes it's impossible to do a Climactic Cliffhanger because the climactic moment only has one turn, which you can't split in half.

Let's look at an example where we could choose any one of them.

Now, I usually try not to use examples from my own work for several reasons, but since it's fresh on my mind and proves the point (and I can offer insight into my thought process), I'm gonna pull from a scene I've been playing around with.

One of the plotlines of one of my manuscripts is a murder mystery (though it's not the primary plotline). The scene I've been working on is the obligatory find-the-dead-body scene. But because I'm working with fantasy, the situation is a little different.

The setup is this: The viewpoint character, Scott, knows that an acquaintance, Allie, is dead somewhere in the forest (this information was obtained through a magic system). Assuming she must have fallen off a ledge, Scott thinks he knows the whereabouts of her body. A small search party is formed, and Scott breaks away to search on his own.

Scott's goal is to find the dead body. So the discovery of the body is the climactic moment of the scene.

However, there are several turns:

- At the end of the rising action (the search), Scott catches sight of what he thinks is a body.

- But as he draws near, he realizes it isn't Allie. It's Allie's best friend, Kinsley.

- As he arrives at the body, he sees she didn't die from an accident or predator. This was murder.

- Knowing that this will cause major problems for him (it would take too long to explain, but it relates to the magic system), Scott begins altering the site and messing up the evidence.

- While doing this, he hears another search party member approaching and knows this is gonna look real bad if he's caught red-handed.

That's the basic shape of the scene.

Pre-point Cliffhanger: If I cut away when Scott thinks he sees a body, this creates a Pre-point Cliffhanger. The audience is left wondering if he finally found Allie. They're anticipating a specific outcome.

Climactic Cliffhanger: If I cut away when Scott realizes it's Kinsley, this creates a Climactic Cliffhanger. This is because the climax--finding the dead body (action)--has other turns: It's not Allie (revelation). And it's murder (revelation). So I can sever the turns.

Post-point Cliffhanger: If I cut away after Scott realizes it's murder, this creates a Post-point Cliffhanger. Why? Because the climax is finding (and learning) about the dead body. We've done that. The questions the reader now innately has is, Now what? And Why? He or she searches for explanations and meaning.

Post-hook Cliffhanger: Now that the body has been discovered, we begin a falling action. How do we address and tie up this situation? Well, Scott decides you do that by altering the site and evidence. But then someone starts coming toward him--will he get caught? This is a hook to a new climb. The rising action will deal with possibly being caught. So I can create a cliffhanger by cutting away after the hook.

Each of these options has a slightly different effect. I don't find the Pre-point Cliffhanger as powerful as the others--possibly seeing a body, isn't as big of a deal as finding the wrong body or a murdered body. I could cut in or near-after the point, but in this case, I think leaving the reader with more to think about, rather than less, is most effective.

Also, worth taking into account, is that I have multiple viewpoint characters and plotlines, so it's going to be a while before I get back to Scott. I don't want to cut near the point and force the audience to wait a couple chapters. The longer they wait, the more the suspense drops off, and the more they need to be reminded of what happened when they come back. So in this situation, I think the Post-hook Cliffhanger is the most effective. The audience has plenty to digest and wonder about, and when I pick the plotline back up later, it will be easy to remind them where we were, especially with a situation that demands immediate attention.

Things Worth Knowing

You can totally categorize cliffhangers in other ways. For example, I could talk about physical cliffhangers (taking a bullet for your friend) or emotional cliffhangers (discovering a spouse's infidelity) or shocking cliffhangers (a burglar just broke in!)--but ultimately, if you have plenty of turning points in your plot and you have appropriate structure, cliffhangers get down to knowing when to cut away to something else.

All that other stuff about what the cliffhanger is, gets back to plot. Have a great plot, and you'll have plenty of moments for cliffhangers. (You'll also likely avoid making those cliffhanger mistakes.)

Some may wonder, can you create a cliffhanger during rising action? Yes . . . and no.

The basic story structure is a repeating structure. It also works as a nesting doll or fractal. This means that in some sense, yes, you can have a successful cliffhanger during rising action--because obviously a book can have cliffhangers prior to the climax of the whole plot. However, in a sense no, because what is actually happening is that the writer is working with a smaller version of the structure. Even within a scene, this structure may be present.

For example, in my Scott-finds-the-dead-body scene, this shape is present within it, as a smaller segment. Partway through his search, Scott begins messing around with a magic system. In the overarching story, he has a goal of figuring out how a certain element of it works. Deep in the forest, he starts working on this; however, in the process, he realizes he's been going about it all wrong. Everything he has been doing is wrong. This is a mini-turning point--a revelation that changes the direction of that plotline. But it happens within the rising action of the scene.

This means that I could create a mini-cliffhanger by cutting around that turning point. . . . I may indeed insert a chapter break there because Scott-finds-the-dead-body is too long to be one chapter. This would create a lesser cliffhanger that would pull the reader into the next chapter.

Likewise, this shape may exist within a falling action of a bigger structure. Or run through smaller structures. But let's end that idea here, for today. The main thing is that a cliffhanger will be around a turning point or just after a hook--if it's going to be a legit cliffhanger.

The other thing I could talk about is the actual writing of the cliffhanger. The best thing to say here is that effective cliffhangers are typically slim and fast-paced. They're abrupt. So say enough for the reader to get it, but don't wax strong in long sentences and descriptions. (Of course, though, you can always break the rules.)

And that's pretty much what you need to know about cliffhangers.

They are not as evil as you thought, are they?

#writing tips #writing tips and tricks #writeblr #cliffhangers #writing reference #writing advice #writing help

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theimmaterialplace · 3 years

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holding on | emily prentiss x reader & spencer reid x reader | ch. 1: prologue

Summary: Emily is an easy person to love, even if you shouldn't. This becomes apparent when she leaves you after two years of hiding your relationship, if you could call it that, with just a text. It's not long after that you are alerted with news of her death and you break down completely. Confiding in Spencer, the one to introduce the two of you, seemed like a good idea at the time but it becomes something more. You slowly begin to heal and then one day you see her, alive and well, and every feeling you have for her comes back to you. You're met with both your present and your past and you don't know what to do.

Contains: female!reader, bisexual!reader, friends with benefits/ hidden relationships, mentions of death, angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2k

A.N: I like making things complicated and messy so here we are! I hope you enjoy whatever the hell this is! Also, this is first time writing for cm so sorry if the characterization is off; we’ll get there eventually!

masterlist | read on ao3

I want to be the power ballad that lifts you up and hold you down

I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery

And I can wish all I want, but it won't bring us together

Plus I know whatever happens to me

I know it's for the better

- Phoebe Bridgers, "Waiting Room"

It’s not uncommon for you to wait on Emily but even this is a new level of tardiness you’ve never encountered with her. She’s nothing if not kind and always alerts you when she’s on a new case or has to reschedule. It worries you to say the least.

You really shouldn’t care this much for her but mistakes are supposed to be made. It’s just that you can’t even begin to consider Emily a mistake but if she is one, she’s the best mistake you’ve ever made.

Sometimes, you think she looks at you with something akin to adoration in her eyes and it takes every bit of your control not to look at her with that same exact look. She’s a profiler, after all, and you’re typically one to wear your heart on your sleeve but she made herself very clear in the beginning.

Your agreement was simply just a friends with benefits situation, no feelings involved. That lasted for a while, truly. You had managed a little over a year with her before you realized that the feeling in your stomach was the fluttering of butterflies. It had frightened you but you decided that she was worth it, even if the decision might come back to haunt you.

Twirling the wine of glass in your hand, you contemplate calling her but decide against it because you don’t want to seem desperate. It may be an accurate description but you weren’t going to show that. Ignoring the waiter who’s been shooting you knowing looks for the past hour, you decide just to leave. You call the waiter over and ask for the check. He just nods at your words; his eyes filled with pity and it pisses you off more than anything,

It’s not that you care that you got stood up because you understand that her work is demanding. It’s more that you’re worried for her because she’s been inactive and short in her recent messages. You hadn’t received a good morning or good night text in days. It makes you wonder if she’s finally gotten sick of you. You’d like to believe that she would at least grace you with a text informing you of this decision but you’re not the best at predicting her.

Emily is a very closed off person and you respect that, you do. It’s just sometimes you wish she didn’t compartmentalize every part of her life into tiny, separate boxes. She likes to pretend that you and Spencer aren’t friends, even though it’s how you were originally met. She tells you that no one needs to know and at the beginning, you were okay with this but lying to Spencer is something you wish you didn’t have to do.

You have to pretend not to know every little bit of Emily she shares with you that she also shares with her team and try not to focus on every little detail he shares about her that you don’t already know. You feel a bit guilty but you figure that she wouldn’t really mind. The only thing that would make her annoyed, never mad because she says anger is useless, is if you mixed her personal life with her work life. You understand to a degree but you also wish that you didn’t have to hide.

Clearly, you were too far gone for her. You always had to take a step back and remember that you weren’t in a relationship with her. If only she didn’t make it so easy to love her. When this ended, you were going to end up heartbroken and that was okay with you. You had accepted that a long time ago but now that you’re actually faced with the inevitable, it scares you.

Emily Prentiss was not the first woman you were with but she’ll be the one to always haunt you. She’s shaped you into the person you are today without even knowing it. You’ll never regret your decision to be with her but you’ll always be left with the “what ifs”.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the man who sits across from you and it’s only until he coughs that he brings you back to reality.

He’s handsome in a rugged sort of way. If you weren’t so enamored with Emily, he surely would have fired something in you but as it is, she is the only one able to cause a spark in you.

“Hi, I saw you here and couldn’t help but notice how you’re alone. Such a shame since you seem like such a catch.” His voice fits him well and he has a nice smile despite its crookedness.

“Ah, my date couldn’t make it. I guess he got busy with work or something. It happens to the best of us.” His eyes narrow the slightest bit at use of “he” and you wonder why. He’s the one hitting on you, after all. It’s gone as soon as it comes and he’s back to those kind eyes.

“Oh, he’s one of those. Well, I know when I’m unwanted when I hear it. Have a lovely night…” He shoots you one last smile and gets up and leaves the restaurant. The waiter shows up and you pay immediately and get into your car as soon as you can.

It’s only when you arrive at home do you see it. You have one new message from Emily and it brings a smile to your face until you see the contents.

Emily <3

I think it’s time we called it quits.

Don’t contact me anymore.

Goodbye.

At first, you feel nothing. You reread it and reread it until it’s practically ingrained into your vision. You knew it was coming but seeing it actually made it real and before you know it, you’re crying.

You feel like a fool because you’ve known that this was just a casual thing for her. It doesn’t make it any easier to accept. Perhaps what hurts the most is her demand to not contact her anymore. You would have been fine, loving her at a distance but remaining friends. Emily cutting you off completely had never been a possibility in your mind. It almost makes you want to laugh though because although you’d never thought of it, it’s such an Emily thing to do. You just never thought it’d be something to happen to you.

A fool, you might be, but better to have loved than to have not. It’s like you had thought earlier, Emily would never leave you, even if she had in person. There would always be reminders of her in your life; in the interior design of your home, in the music you listened to, in the movies and books you had shared together, and in the hidden, ignored corners of your heart.

It hurt. God, did her short messages pain you but you’d seen it coming. You had time to accept it but that did nothing to quell the tears that fell down your face or the sobs that wracked your body.

You cry yourself to sleep, still in the dress she bought you, the one she said you looked your best in and always brought out her coyness to the fullest.

When you wake up, you’re thankful it’s a Saturday because you can’t imagine facing anyone today. The most you want to do is get drunk on every bottle of wine you own, which is quite a few. You hope it’ll be enough to keep your mind off of Emily.

You go to the bathroom and you can’t help but wince at the image you make. Your makeup has run all over your face and you look like la llorona with the mascara and eyeliner running down your cheeks. Your lipstick is smeared beyond comprehension and overall, you look like a mess, not even a hot one at that.

You look like the stereotypical girl who has just gotten heartbroken and so you scrub it all off until your skin is clear of the previous night’s emotions. You change into something comfortable, throwing the dress into the hamper rather than the trash because you can’t bear the thought of throwing away things from her. Maybe it’d be the smart thing to do but you can’t.

You’re in a sort of limbo and you’re unsure of where to go from here. You’ve accidentally built up your life around her and now that she’s gone, you’re left with nothing but yourself.

It’s only a week later that Spencer shows up to your place, looking worse for wear. He looks like you did on that day when Emily broke up with you but worse. His eyes are bloodshot and his nose is bright red against his pale complexion.

“Um, could I come in?” His voice cracks and he only shrinks further into himself and you nod at him, opening the door to accompany his skinny frame.

You guide him to your couch and place the cup of tea you had made for yourself into his hands since it seemed like they needed something in them with all the twitching they were doing.

You sit in silence, knowing that whatever he had to say would eventually come out.

His tea has stopped steaming when he finally speaks up. “Today, my colleague was taken by the person she had been chasing after. We found her and apprehended the person she had been chasing but… But we were too late. By the time we had gotten there, she was already wounded and she was pronounced dead two hours, thirteen minutes, and twenty seven seconds ago. She’s dead and I never got to say goodbye.” With his proclamation, his tears begin again and you take the cup from his hands.

“May I hug you, Spencer?” He nods and that’s all it takes for you to take him into your arms. He sobs into the crook of your neck. It’s hard to connect the image of the nerd you know and care for to the man who’s breaking down in your arms. You rub soothing circles on his back and try to keep up with his words but they’re too quiet and unintelligible to your ears.

The both of you sit there like that for a while. It could have been five minutes or an hour but you can’t tell and you bet he can’t either.

When he finally runs out of tears, he whispers something so quietly that you think you’ve misheard him.

“I never got to say goodbye to Emily.”

Emily . She’s his colleague. He had said she in his retelling of the events. It takes your breath away and you have to stop the tears from coming on because you’re not supposed to care for her, not like this. Not in front of anybody, especially not Spencer.

She’s dead. Emily is dead. It’s a truth you don’t want to accept. It makes you glad that Spencer is still hidden in your neck because you’re sure your face can only show the agony you feel over such a reveal.

Your worst nightmare has come true, it seems. You don’t want this. Anything but her leaving you permanently. She can’t be dead, not the woman who’s changed you so irrevocably and made you feel like life was worth living.

You could accept loving her in quiet, away from her, but not at the cost of her death. You can’t deal with this, not when Spencer needs you so push it away. You shove the pain and agony down until you’re numb.

You’re supposed to be nothing but an acquaintance to her. She hadn’t even loved you. You shouldn’t feel like your heart has been ripped violently from your body and that your soul will always have an Emily sized hole left in the wake of her death.

You focus on Spencer so that you don’t break down and you’re grateful that he doesn’t notice your little episode. You can’t confront this in front of anybody. It’s better to deal with your grief in private, just like everything else you did with Emily. It made sense for the last thing you’ll ever do for her to stay quiet and watch from afar.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #emily prentiss fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #my writing #holding on

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uwuthatshit · 3 years

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TW: Kanato people. Kanato. Manipulation, love, arguing, biting blah blah blah you know the drill.

Re-reading Kanato’s HDB and this is my take so far...

Yui bugs Kanato so much it pisses me off. At least, in the beginning.

In the Dark Prologue in HDB, YUI WONT LEAVE HIM ALONE. LIKE??? WTF. She talks back to him, like, all the time in the Dark route. She mentions other boys in front of him, which, honestly, why??? She really pushes to help him, even when he says he wants to be left alone. He’s a vampire, he can’t feel pain that much. He loves his Teddy. Don’t make fun of him. Simple stuff.

Kanato, in reality, really is a pretty calm vampire. He lets off a pissed off disposition, but he’s not all that bad. It just happens that he gets pissed off in the games so often because Yui is a little shit sometimes.

With her caring nature, she can come off as too much, honest to God. We get it, she’s a good catholic church girl who wants to help Kanato in his route of Haunted Dark Bridal. Seriously, we get it. Her actions, in some chapters, are admirable. SHe’s doing the best she can. But by God, if someone says “no” or “fuck off, I don’t want your help,” why do you keep pushing? At SOME POINT Yui needs to learn how to ADAPT TO HER SITUATION.

This goes with Human standards, too! I have some people in my life who want to help me, but my life and my mental health is none of your fucking business, thank you very much. If I need your help, I’ll ask for it. I have my own voice. Please, Fuck off.

I mean, really, It’s like she’s trying to piss him off at some points in this game. ESPECIALLY if you chose the sadistic route AND the masocist choices. which involves you dying and/or becoming a doll, with your soul being put inside Teddy Jr.

However, this cycle of idiocy ends when you get into the Manic route.

This isn’t to say everything is all her fault, though, Dark route or otherwise. Kanato can be in a bad mood and react negatively to anything Yui would do, right answer or not.

For example, we see this in Manic 5. Kanato is upset that a passerby makes Teddy fall on the ground, and Kanato looses his ever loving mind. People around start to notice and they threaten to call the police. Yui tries to calm him down. She makes a promise that she’ll bake Kanato an apple pie, and let him suck her blood. Kanato is paranoid, and Canonically hates crowds, so Yui notices and tries to help him.

He’s sensitive, and, as we see in Manic number 1, he really believes people are out to get him. This is when Ayato hides Teddy from Kanato to make him mad:

Kanato: Just give Teddy back already! Where is he!?

Yui: I didn’t do it!

Kanato: Don’t lie!! Even though you despise me…

Yui: I-I’m not lying! Besides, I don’t hate you either!!

Kanato: !?

Yui: F-For one…I wouldn’t do things to people which I wouldn’t want to have happen to myself.

Kanato: …I can’t trust you.

We can see in Manic 10 that Kanato is made fun of by his brothers... I mean, it was like they were trying to hurt his feelings on purpose, I swear to god:

Kanato: …I thought it was that person. I wonder why?

Yui: That person…?

Kanato: Even though you don’t look like that person at all…It might be because of that nostalgic scent.

Yui: …?

Ayato: Why are you holding a conversation while looking into a mirror like that? Stop being such a narcissist.

Laito: Kanato-kun loves his own face after all. Unexpected, right? He doesn’t seem like that type of person.

Kanato: …Shut up. What’s the problem?

Yui: Eh? …Kanato-kun, you like your own face?

Kanato: …Yes, I do. Is that bad?

In Manic 6, Kanato makes Yui move out of the Nurses office so nobody else can sleep/lay down next to her:

Kanato: …Yui-san, please stay up after all. We’re moving places.

Yui: Eh? Why…

Kanato: If you sleep at the nurse’s office, the other students might use the bed next to you!

I would never allow you to sleep in the same room with someone else besides me.

Yui: Eh…?

Kanato: If you’re going to sleep, please leave school early. You could just head home and sleep either in your own or in my room, right?

Yui: ( This is…Uhm…? )

Kanato: If you understand, please stand up.

In Manic 7, we see that rainy days trigger Kanato in the worst of ways; it probably reminds him of traumatic events from his childhood, or something of the sort :

Yui: Kanato-kun!? What’s wrong!?

Kanato: Uu…Yui-san…

ー He clings onto Yui

Yui: ( H-He suddenly…Hugged me tightly…!? )

Kanato: Uu…No…Don’t go…Don’t leave me by myself…

Yui: …Kanato-kun…

( Teddy has been tossed aside on the floor. If Kanato-kun was being himself, he would never treat Teddy in such a way. ) {AN- this says a LOT ABOUT THIS SCENE EJEH BOHE LIKE... POOR BABY}

Kanato-kun, what’s the matter? Did something happen…?

Kanato: Don’t…leave me by myself…

But then, in Manic 9, something changes...

Kanato: Lend me your lap. (1) …Carry Teddy as well.

Yui: Eh? …O-Okay.

( To think that Kanato-kun would actually entrust me with Teddy…What happened? )

( Even though he’s always carrying Teddy with him, as if he does not want to hand him over to anyone else no matter what… )

Kanato: …You’re making a worried expression.

Yui: Eh.

Kanato: Are you anxious about holding Teddy?

Yui: …Yeah.

Kanato: Fufu, no need. There is nothing to be worried about, you know?

It simply means that I trust you to the point of being okay with entrusting Teddy to you.

Yui: Trust…?

Kanato: Yes. …After all, the two of us are close enough to the point of connecting our bodies. (2)

Yui: Wha…!

Kanato: What are you so surprised about? It’s the truth, isn’t it?

…Or have you perhaps forgotten about what happened by the lake already?

Trust??? I see development??? YEEEES!! But in that same chapter, Kanato begs Yui to tell him “I love you.” She doesn't because she is confused. What does this say about his character???

Well, think about it: He doesn't even say he loves Yui until the Ecstasy Prologue. In Ecstasy 1 he even trusts Yui with Teddy, because Kanato accidentally made his tummy rip open. In fact, Ecstasy is mainly just seeing Kanato giving Yui a sliver of his trust, and him being territorial of his “prey”. Showing her love the way he knows how. He basically finished brainwashing her and making her obedient to him. Also, he makes her quiet like a doll so they can have.. fun times AHEM HACK AHEM COUGH COUGH COUGH I’M A MINOR ANYWAYS-

HE BURNS TEDDY TO PROVE HIS LOVE FOR YUI (Estasy 9). Let that sink in for a second. It’s SO symbolic I’m gonna make a seperate post about it at one point.

Are you good? Kay, good, moving on....

So, what have I figured out by dissecting Kanato in HDB??? Like, piece by fucking piece? NOT counting the endings?

Kanato, honestly, is just traumatized. He does the best he can for the shit he’s been put through. He has trust issues, he misses his mom, he needs a teddy bear to help him get through life, and he’s mentally unstable. When he finally trusts someone, he wants them to love him back wholeheartedly and not be afraid of him, whether that’s said explicitly or not.

(you hear that sound? It’s the sound of my heart shattering into a million tiny fucking pieces over a 2-D character I kin because dammit I relate too much to this stuff. I love him. He needs a hug and kisses, just like I do. He actually is not as bad as the Fandom makes him out to be)

And Yui does NOT help herself in many instances of his mental breakdowns. Yui can make Kanato’s breakdowns WORSE. This is seen in Manic 7 also, when Yui tells Kanato to “Get a grip!” How rude is that?! And Kanato sulks in a corner and continues to cry, not letting Yui get close to him.

The situation between them is complicated, and will continue to be complex.

Keep in mind, this is just one game, the “base form” of Kanato. Lemme know if i missed anything huge!!

Love to my fellow mutuals: @pettyval @papuru666main :3 lemme know your thoughts on this :))))

#dialovers #diabolik lovers #kanato simps #kanato kinnies #kanato sakamaki #dialovers kanato #kanato kinnies get yalls juice #kanato simps get yalls juice

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hasspartacusdoneanythingwrong · 3 years

Text

The Century War of Wyverns: Prologue

God, it's been a while since we actually did longer writing on this blog, huh? Yeah, we're finally back, going through the old singularities. Don't expect much different in this part, since it's before we even get to France, but we hope you'll enjoy it anyway.

We'll have to set right what once went wrong, but first, things have to go pretty freaking wrong for it to count as a singularity. How wrong, you may ask? Let's find out!

Also, CWs: Religious Themes, Blood, Death

(The next part is here)

Footsteps rang down the corridor, the clatter of metal on stone. A grim young woman, dressed in chains and blackened armor, strode towards the central chamber of the castle. A spear was thrown casually over her shoulder. The screams had long since died down, but the metallic stench of blood still permeated the building. A fitting place for the beginning of the end, she supposed.

She entered the ritual room and was greeted by a scrawny man cloaked in dark robes. She sneered at him as he gave a report on the ritual. The sycophant was infuriating, but useful.

For now though, the ritual was ready: she had more important things to worry about. The man led her to the appropriate spot in the twisted mass of sigils and equations marked upon the floor. He then moved to his own position and began chanting. The woman invoked the incantation, as practiced.

“Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail’s call, and obey my will and reason, then answer me.”

A bright white light seeped out of the golden chalice in the center of the magic circle, tracing the lines drawn on the ground. As the light grew more intense, a wind picked up, pushing everything in the room away from its center. Everything but the cup and the woman.

“I hereby swear. That I shall defeat all evil in the world. But let thine eyes be clouded with the fog of turmoil and chaos. Thou art trapped in a cage of madness, and I the summoner who holds thy chains.”

The light suddenly shifted to crimson red, and the wind picked up speed. The woman had to shout the final lines of incantation to be heard over the gale.

“Seventh heaven clad in the great words of power! Come forth from the circle of binding, Guardian of the Scales!”

The tangle of light coalesced into seven points, fading into seven human figures. She addressed each of them in turn.

“Berserk Saber,” A young woman dressed in a pastel suit with a flowing white cape. She brandished a fencing rapier, giving it a few experimental swings.

“Berserk Archer,” Another woman, dressed in green. Her ears and tail twitched with discomfort as she glared at the rest of the assembly. Her longbow scraped the paneling of the floor beneath her feet.

“Berserk Lancer,” A pale man dressed in rich furs. He let a silver spear rest upon the ground as he looked around him, unimpressed.

“Berserk Rider,” A purple haired woman dressed in a veil and chainmail. She fidgeted with her staff as the black armored woman turned to her, struggling with herself.

“Berserk Caster,” A slight man in a black suit. He would be rather handsome, if not for the mask covering half his face.

“Berserk Assassin,” An older woman, wearing a mask and a fine red dress. She was surrounded by chains and spiked metal. She could barely contain herself at the sight of Saber, Archer, and Rider.

“And True Berserker.” A white-haired man in executioner’s garb. He polished his sword at a feverish pace.

“Thank you for coming, my fellow servants. I am your master. You know why you were summoned, yes?”

She looked around at the assembly.

“Destruction and slaughter, those are your orders. If a city is reveling in spring, destroy it. If a town is celebrating the new year, devastate it. No matter how evil or cruel, God will forgive your every transgression. Should He mete out punishment, that is fine in its own way. For this is no more than a means of proving God’s existence and His love.”

“Now, Gilles, bring him here.”

The man in black robes -Gilles- bowed. “Of course, my saint!” He ran out of the room. He returned shortly with another old man in tow, this one wearing extravagant white and red robes.

Gilles giggled as he pulled the man forward. “What do you wish done with this one, my saint? If I may be so bold, I do have a few suggestions.”

The woman in black sighed. “Please, Gilles, you’re ruining the moment.” With the source of her aggravation silenced, she took a split second to compose herself.

“Bishop Pierre Cauchon!” The woman in black armor greeted the new arrival. “It’s only been three days, but I can promise you not a second went by where I did not think of you! How has France been in my absence?”

The man simply stood there, wide-eyed and slicked in a sheen of sweat. He gave a few stutters, but coherence simply refused to leave his mouth.

Undeterred, the woman in black continued to taunt him. “Ah non, your excellency! This simply won’t do! Are you telling me you have already forgotten the face of Jeanne d’Arc?”

The bishop’s voice finally found him, and he screamed, “No, that’s impossible, she’s dead! This- This can’t be happening! It has to be a dream….”

Jeanne’s face fell. “Gilles, please make sure our guest doesn’t leave reality entirely, would you?”

Gilles brought his hand up to the bishop’s face. His sleeve fell away, revealing a twisted piece of metal wrapped around his wrist. He brushed it against the bishop’s face, leaving scratches that quickly began to bleed. The old man certainly didn’t calm down, but the feeling of his own blood dripping into his hands forced him to face the reality of the situation.

Jeanne smiled as the bishop’s situation sank into his expression. “Now that you are back with us, your excellency, it is time for your test. Here you stand at the gates of hell,” she gestured to the servants encircling them, “surrounded by demons, no less! Fortunately for you, I am nothing if not a devout follower of His word, so I offer you this one chance: pray to Him. For if He is to stay our hand, if He has judged this France worthy of existence, He must do so now.”

The bishop immediately fell to his knees, letting out wracking sobs. “P-please…”

“Hmm?” Jeanne d’Arc eyed him expectantly.

“Please, spare me!” He cried as he crawled towards Jeanne, snot-nosed and openly weeping. “Please! I’ll do whatever it is you wish; I beg of you! Please!”

Jeanne d’Arc kicked him away. He landed heavily a few feet back, still sobbing. “So, you pray to Jeanne d’Arc before you pray to God? Unfortunately for you, I am not a merciful god, nor do I accept indulgences. You beg for the aid of a heathen, and that makes you a heathen as well.”

A sickening smile crawled its way across Jeanne’s lips. “And you know very well the punishment for such a crime, don’t you?”

Somehow, the bishop’s face grew even paler as he scrambled to escape the room. Before he could even get to his feet, Jeanne d’Arc slammed the butt of her spear against the ground. Immediately, dozens of identical spears burst from the ground around the bishop, all set to skewer him. At the same time, a gout of fire rose from the ground, enveloping him completely. He was less than ash before a single spear pierced him.

Jeanne scowled. “That was disappointing. You all know your orders, it is time to spread this despair to the rest of France.”

“My saint-“ Gilles stepped in, “What shall I do with the other members of the clergy?”

“Let them go, Gilles.”

Gilles balked. “You can’t be serious!” he spluttered. “They are the ones who sent you to die! What about their punishment!” He whined like an impetuous child.

Jeanne gave a mirthless grin. “Oh, I never said anything about letting them live. I simply want to see how well our new servants hunt.”

Gilles immediately lit up. “Haha! Of course, my saint! I shall see to it at once!” He cackled as he ran out of the room, eager to fulfill her orders.

Jeanne addressed her servants once again. “Go on, make a show of it. And save room for the main course.”

Screams of all kinds filled the castle as its grounds turned into a slaughterhouse once again. The mad servants easily cornered the terrified clergy, and-

Then we woke up.

#fgo #fate grand order #singularity 1 #fanfic

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silverbastardgoldenfool · 3 years

Text

Realm of the Quarantine Reread End-of-Book Questionnaire: Assassin’s Quest

Any differences between your first/previous reading experience and this one?

Keep in mind I’m writing this months after finishing the book lol (it’s mental illness innit). I have LOTS of notes to go off but yeah, things aren’t as fresh in my mind overall. With that said the biggest difference I can think of between my first and second experience with AQ is my feelings towards Kettricken. I think the first time around reading you know that Fitz is an unreliable narrator but you are still limited by his viewpoint so you can get a bit trapped seeing things the way he does. For this reason, I think I pretty much just forgave Kettricken when he did on my first read, whereas on this read I was like……. Waiting for her to actually apologise and show some sympathy towards Fitz and it just…. Never happened.

Like, don’t get me wrong, I still love Kettricken as a character and I fully recognise that she has been traumatised. I don’t expect her to be nice or act rationally, and in the case of being willing to take Nettle for the crown… It’s cold but she’s doing what she feels she has to. My issue is - do what you have to, but don’t expect Fitz to understand or forgive you (same with Starling). But I think what bothered me the most was how Kettricken would constantly confide in Fitz and break down to him and he was always there to let her do so, yet she NEVER gives Fitz the chance to do the same. The one time he does “open up” in a sense is when she forces him to air out his traumas in front of everyone, and she didn’t show him any sympathy for what he’d been through then or later. She has been through hell, absolutely, but while her plight may not have been any better than Fitz’s it certainly wasn’t any worse. She pretty much had two modes in this book: completely cold or a crying wreck - but she was only ever crying for herself. She lets Fitz console her but she never consoles him. Again, this is a result of her own trauma and I don’t expect her to act any differently, but it just reaffirmed for me that while she and Fitz care for each other deeply it is not an equal relationship. Fitz feels an obligation to serve her and she - knowingly or not - takes advantage of that. Like, after realising that this is their dynamic it is so obvious that the same is true in Royal Assassin as well, and it will be interesting to see how it changes (or doesn’t) in Tawny Man as I don’t remember it well enough to say.

Must reiterate: Kettricken is still a great character and I still have a lot of respect for her, unfortunately she just falls into the overfull camp of people who love Fitz but have an unhealthy power dynamic with him.

The other big difference I noticed was that the Verity stuff just wasn’t as devastating this time. Not because it was any less sad but it just didn’t tear out my heart like it did the first time. That’s not a fault with the writing at all, I think it’s just the fact that, knowing what would happen to Verity and that we wouldn’t see the real Verity again, I kind of already let go of him at the end of Royal Assassin.

Something you can’t believe you forgot

I guess more of a misinterpretation/wishful thinking but like, realising that there is no passage explicitly stating that Fitz and the Fool were actually spooning in the mountains murdered me and spat on my corpse.

Oh also!!! Fitz yeeting himself out the window at Tradeford castle jskaskjf

Favourite character introduction moments/scenes

I love Kettle in general and the way we’re introduced to her as a cranky old lady sets her up perfectly

Favourite character arcs

Man they’re all so fucking sad lol but I guess the Fool? He goes from thinking Fitz is dead and his purpose failed to reuniting with Fitz, their relationship growing into something really real for the first time, and actually completing his mission - at least for now lol. This book is really the first time you get to see the Fool be properly vulnerable. Even when he was getting beaten up by Regal’s guards he always had his veneer of snark and superiority to hide behind - and I doubt when he went through his sicknesses at Buckkeep he would have revealed his weakness to anyone in order to be helped. But in the mountains he lets so much of that facade of the King’s Fool fall away - at least when it’s just him and Fitz. When he and Fitz meet again he lets Fitz see his grief and pain and hopelessness and joy as the Fool looks after Fitz, and then later when it’s the Fool who needs looking after he lets Fitz look after him. When was the last time the Fool had anyone really care for him like that, ya know? Had someone protect him purely out of love? Ouch dude!!!!

Also he gets to kiss Fitz at the end so good for him!!!!!!!!!! Be gay ride dragons!!

Favourite quote/s

“I would kill Regal. It only seemed fair. He had killed me first.”

“I had looked into the heart of my enemy. I still could not comprehend him.”

“The more I drank, the less tolerable my situation seemed. And the more intolerable I became to my friends.”

“I had never thought to be disdained by a tree.”

“The Fool, the Fool, only the Fool. I sought for him. I almost found him. Oh, he was passing strange, and surpassing strange. He darted and eluded me, like a bright gold carp in a weedy pool, like the motes that dance before one’s eyes after being dazzled by the sun. As well to clutch at the moon’s reflection in a still midnight pond as to seek a grip on that bright mind. I knew his beauty and his power in the briefest flashes of insight. In a moment I understood and marvelled at all that he was, and in the next I had forgotten that understanding.”

“When you can either laugh or cry, you might as well laugh.” - the Fool

Favourite relationships

Fitzandthefoolfitzandthefoolfitzandthefoolbahslbghabfhalgngjba

Also fitz and nighteyes (speaking of which, Nighteyes’ arc in this book is also fascinating and surprisingly complex) and Fitz/Nighteyes/Fool mwah magnifico chef’s kiss

Favourite setting

Kelsingra baybeyyy. I remember the first time reading this having no fucking clue what was happening in that chapter but I guess it was the gay agenda all along

Favourite chapter

It’s gotta be the chapter where Fitz and the Fool reunite, right? Catch me just gradually losing my grip on reality with every lingering stare

Most loved character

Foooooooooool

Most hated character

Ya know, for a minute I was actually wondering if I would like Starling this time round but yeah no lol. She was actually okay for a while but as soon as she sold Fitz/Nettle out she became The Worst, just as I remembered her. It’s not even because she betrays Fitz but because, like Kettricken, she expects Fitz to forgive her for it, to the point of running to tattle to the queen because Fitz isn’t giving her enough attention (I’m also not impressed with Kettricken for actually getting involved instead of just telling her to grow up). Not to mention her constantly misgendering/gendering (??) the Fool or just assuming the Fool’s gender and loudly fucking proclaiming it to everybody is just truly fucking disgusting. Like I cannot even explain how furious I was reading her incessantly using she/her pronouns for the Fool despite no confirmation that her theory is right or that the Fool is comfortable with this and despite EVERYONE ELSE using he/him pronouns. God I’m mad now lol. She just acts like a spoilt brat and it makes my blood boil. But that’s probably because I have known many people like this so… Good character writing lol congrats

Raise your hand if you’ve been personally victimised by Robin Hobb (most heartbreaking and/or visceral moments)

The whole first chapter/s are just so heavy and carry on that gut wrenching feeling from the end of Royal Assassin. Fitz just has no real desire to live and watching him systematically severing the last few ties he has to his human life is just so sad.

Even though I wasn’t as attached to Verity this time, his goodbye to Fitz still made me cry

As did Fitz giving Kettle her skill back

Verity using Fitz’s body to have sex with Kettricken really got to me this time, mostly because I either didn’t notice the first time or had forgotten just how much it affects Fitz. It’s no wonder he doesn’t want to acknowledge Dutiful as his son when the event that brought that fact into being was so fucked up and traumatic. It’s really upsetting.

Burrich saying he almost took Fitz to Chivalry and he should have never let the Farseers take Fitz just …… breaks my heart. Just seeing Burrich so raw like that in general is so unusual it really takes you aback.

Details, observations, spoilery notes made with the benefit of the full picture

Strap in lads this part is lonnnngggggggg

Is it bad to immediately want to cry just from seeing “Sandsedge” on the map and thinking of Sandsedge brandy

I never really thought about how poor Hap didn’t get the real Fitz all those years and how their relationship could have been if Fitz hadn’t been partially forged

Pls I have no idea why but to picture someone as emotionally repressed as Fitz actually sitting down and writing about his life makes me want to fucking cryyyyeeeee

Fitz in the prologue talks about needing a purpose as something to distract himself from sinking [into his chronic pain, mental illness and addiction] and boy howdy if that ain’t relatable. As someone with mental illness and chronic pain Fitz is just painfully relatable way too often.

“I have never forgiven myself the triumph I ceded him when I took poison and died.” Fitz :(((( my guy :((((((( forgive yourself for surviving however you could baby!!!!!

This book mentions Bingtown providing slaves to Chalced

It’s so funny to me when people expect Fitz to have social skills as if he didn’t literally live as a fucking wolf for weeks at a time. It’s a miracle he bloody speaks

The state Fitz is in at the beginning of this book was literally Burrich’s greatest fear for him, yet Burrich doesn’t just say I told you so and leave. He stays, is patient and even optimistic.

“He (Burrich) is not bigger than I.” Why does this feel so wrong lol??? I just can’t picture Fitz as bigger than Burrich

“When you were younger and not supposed to go into taverns without me…” So it’s fine if the child goes into taverns and gets drunk as long as you’re also there. Got it, Burrich.

Fitz calling Chade “the grey one” wow get rekd old man river

Seeing Chade and Burrich interact is so bizarre

Fitz is still having seizures at the beginning of this book! I had forgotten that

God okay so idk if I can articulate this point super well but the whole thing of Fitz going through this extensive abuse and then essentially becoming an animal feels like a metaphor for the way your brain’s “higher” needs and functions just shut off sometimes under certain levels of stress. Like in order to cope with the trauma you don’t think about concepts, or long-term goals, or other people. You just take care of your basic needs - food, sleep, shelter, water - long enough that you start to feel safe and secure again, at which point your brain can open up a bit more and allow you to really think again; to want again, to plan again etc. Like obviously literally becoming an animal is a heightened version of reality, but the functionality of it is the same; our wounds and our fear stop us from fully embodying ourselves.

Burrich be like, Fitz was getting way too dependent on drugs before all this so let’s steer clear of those. :) LET’S GET HIM ABSOLUTELY SHITFACED INSTEAD

I love how Fitz has his own unique relationship with Lacey and she’s not just Patience’s servant in his mind

Fitz talking about how even his memories from before his time in the dungeons are soiled by his trauma :( baby boy

Dude it’s so rich Chade lecturing Fitz about not making a life for himself, having friends or just chilling out like???? WHO TRAINED HIM TO BE AN ASSASSIN CHADE?? Like I get your point but what the hell kind of life did you think he was gonna have? Who ever took the time to teach him the importance of making connections with people for their own sake, and when would he have ever had the time anyway? I think Chade himself doesn’t actually know what he expects from Fitz.

Fitz saying he’s bad at making decisions because he’s never actually been allowed to make any is literally a point I’ve made lol. This is what happens when you teach teenagers how to murder in lieu of any basic life skills.

Burrich + Chiv were luv at first sight. No I will not elaborate.

“We kept you a boy, looked after you too much.” Huh??????? Fitz was never fucking sheltered lol. He didn’t have autonomy. There’s a difference.

I’m so fucking glad Fitz hugged Burrich before he left and that they actually left off on okay-ish terms. I didn’t remember that and it vaguely dulls the blow of knowing we don’t see Burrich again til Fool’s Fate (and that he thinks Fitz is dead the entire time between now and then).

“If I shaved my hair back from my brow” bitch disgusting

“Honey was the older of the two women. Perhaps my age.” jskfjnajgbl my guy those aren’t women then those are children!!!!!! U freak

I was wondering for ages why Fitz doesn’t mention the Fool like literally at all bc that’s so unusual right? Even in Assassin’s Apprentice he thinks of him when he goes to Moonseye and just in general the Fool usually enters Fitz’s thoughts pretty frequently. So why now, when Fitz doesn’t even know if the Fool is okay, is he just not thinking about him? And then I realised that that is exactly why. Because the only two people from his old life he doesn’t think about are the two people whose fates he knows nothing of: Kettricken and the Fool. So he can let his mind wander to think what Patience and Lacey might be up to at Buckkeep, or who Molly is with or whatever, because he knows they are all safe. But in such a fragile state I don’t think he can bring himself to really wonder whether Kettricken and the Fool made it to their destination - he probably doesn’t really believe they could have, and that is far too painful a road to go down when you are trying not to think at all.

I know the first act of this book is slow and that bothers some people, but I think it is so necessary, not only for Fitz’s arc but also because it really demonstrates just how severe the situation has gotten with the red ships and forged ones AND it shows just how destructive a king Regal is. Without this perspective it would probably be much harder to buy that the extreme measures taken at the end of the book are really worth the sacrifice.

Fitz is Demisexual, Exhibit A: when Honey is coming onto him, all he can think about is Molly.

Fitz is so scared of the Forged ones :( his trauma affects everything. He has no faith in himself and less heart for the violence than ever.

Speaking of trauma metaphors: the way Fitz tends to drift off into the wit or Skill after a traumatic experience is… pretty much just dissociation but magique

I forgot that witted folk can apparently communicate with each other mentally, not just with animals

“Her head was the size of a bushel basket.” Ah, yes, a bushel basket, a thing whose size we are all intimately familiar with.

Fitz finally finds others like him and even then he is not fully accepted. Told he is doing the wit wrong. Othered by the Others. It’s the queer experience innit.

Also forgot that apparently the forged are attracted to the wit as well as the Skill?

“I wondered if I had as many wolf mannerisms as they had halk and bear.” Yeah no probably not you only bloody LIVED as a wolf, Fitz.

Okay I know it doesn’t need saying but Patience is just so fucking cool!!!!!

Jesus fucking christ, Fitz skilling out to Molly when he knows Will knows he’s alive and is looking for him is just… so dumb. So so dumb. I know he’s just fixating on her because he’s miserable and she’s like this unsullied thing he had before everything went wrong but holy moly is it frustrating

Not to mention he doesn’t connect the dots between the fact that Burrich went to “help a friend” and every time he reaches out for Molly he sees Burrich sajkdbshkhja dude

Nighteyes leaving just goes to show that Fitz cannot rely solely on Nighteyes for companionship. No matter how innately the same they are they are equally as innately different. Fitz needs Nighteyes but he shouldn’t have JUST Nighteyes (which is why he, Nighteyes and the Fool are the holy trinity). When Nighteyes leaves, Fitz is in way too fragile a state to be left alone, but Nighteyes cannot think of the future or what might happen. All he knows is he’ll be back at some point and that’s all that matters.

“My anger fed my competence” whatever you need to tell yourself sweetie

I think I had blocked out the fact the Regal was keeping animals trapped in filthy cages so they could ravage people in the king’s circle uggggghhhhhhhhh I hate him

Fitz is down on himself saying that without Shrewd’s largesse, Chade’s information and Verity’s protection his idea of himself has been stripped away and that he’s not actually competent etc. but like. This is an extreme situation!! You’re literally alone in the wilderness with nothing and no one!! Who would thrive in this situation? And nobody gets by without help anyway! The people in our lives do define us to an extent. You don’t have to be able to stand 100% on your own at all times with zero resources to be considered capable. It’s human to depend on others. Yes I am chiding myself as much as Fitz here :))))

Burrich’s earring is the repressed gay earring. No I will not elaborate.

Fitz refusing to sell Burrich’s earring is frustrating yet something I would 100% do lol

Direct from my notes: Celery hiding out in caves?? Bad bitch

“I felt I was within the flames looking deeply into the Fool’s eyes” um okay gay

It’s actually surprising that Fitz admits he would not have gone after Molly even if he had known she was pregnant when she left. On one hand so self aware yet this doesn’t stop him from completely idealising their relationship.

And then you have Molly who says he was supposed to come after her “so she could forgive him”, that he was supposed to be the one to light the candles for her childbirth etc. The fact that she in any way thought he was mature enough to be a father just shows how little they really knew each other.

Burrich treating Molly like a horse while delivering Nettle is way funnier than it has a right to be jskakjasd makes me think of Dwight treating Phyllis’ back injury in The Office lol

The first thing Burrich notices about Nettle is that she has Chivalry’s brow are you fucking kidding me. Gay!

Fitz is Demisexual, Exhibit B: He had no interest in Tassin whatsoever until she literally started kissing him. At this point his body reacted, which is normal, but as soon as he got a second to actually think about it he stopped, because for him it would not be satisfying to sleep with someone he didn’t have feelings for.

“It seemed to take years for the dried beans and lentils to soften.” Okay mood

I love how Fitz just assumes Molly will take him back. “I have a woman and child awaiting me.” Says who bitch?

Small ferret? More like big legend

Ya know, we give Fitz so much shit but honestly with so much physical, mental and emotional stress on this journey how can we expect his mental faculties to be at 100%? I wouldn’t be making good decisions either, in fact I would be long dead.

Starling telling Nik that the earring once belonged to Chivalry is truly a smooth brain move

“Do not fear, little brother, I am here to take care of you again.” Words can’t explain how much I love Nighteyes and how often his dialogue makes me smile :’)

It’s so cute how Nighteyes is worried about Molly and Nettle until he knows that Burrich is taking care of them

It’s really interesting when Fitz claims “I’d rather be with Molly even if it meant rocking a crying baby in the middle of the night” because, well, he’s literally made other claims to the contrary, saying he wouldn’t have gone with her even if he’d known she was pregnant. Because at the end of the day as much as Fitz is compelled by others to do work for the greater good, I think deep down a lot of the time it is what he would do anyway. Like I really don’t think he could actually enjoy being with Molly knowing that the world is burning down around them. He would want to get out there and help somehow; not only to secure their own future but to reduce other people’s suffering as well. He’s an empathetic boy even though he’d like to be selfish.

Every time Fitz calls Molly his wife I lose ten years off my life

Again, I understand why he’s thinking like this, but Fitz’s ownership of Molly is just so uncomfortable. The fact that he can’t imagine her not having a place ready and waiting for him in her life when he returns just illustrates that she is not a fully realised person to him. She is just a comforting idea.

Oh yes, it was definitely Starling’s “pillowtalk” that got you captured and not the fact that you fit the exact description of the witted bastard right down to having Chivalry’s earring and a whole ass wolf

Somehow forgot that Jhaampe is basically a city of tents with only a few permanent buildings and people constantly coming and going

Fitz’s first words to the Fool are “I’ve come to you.” I’m gonna fucking die

Literally every single word from the moment Fitz realises it’s the Fool and starts describing him is a full body assault and personal attack I am seeking reparations

God the tenderness, the angst, the relief……… shall i pass away

“I doubted he was much taller, but his body was no longer a child’s.” My dude this is a gay awakening if I ever saw one

Fitz be like *spends 87 pages describing the Fool in painstaking detail* anyway I love being a heterosexual male

I’ve heard ppl cite Fitz’s descriptions of Kettricken as evidence of a crush (hard disagree) but literally nothingggggg even comes close to the way he describes the Fool. Not just this once but over and over again it’s insane.

“Talk fell off between us. The bottle of brandy was empty. We were reduced to silence, staring at one another drunkenly.” skjakfnajghajgnaLNGJ is it gay to silently gaze into thine homie’s eyes

The Fool protecting Fitz from everyone - especially Starling - in Jhaampe is often hilarious and always heartwarming

Realising Fitz was skinny enough for the Fool to lift on his own ahhh no wonder he said the famous “When I recall how beautiful you were” line, Fitz is a total wreck

I love that the Fool actually gives Chade shit for his plan to take Nettle. I love him.

“Too few folk cared for me. I could not hate a single one of them.” Oh, Fitz :(

I always wonder how the Fool really feels about Molly. Is he jealous? Does he compare himself to this woman Fitz idolises and he doesn’t know? Does he know that Fitz is barking up the wrong tree or is he stuck thinking Molly must really be Fitz’s soulmate since he won’t shut up about how much he loves her and can’t wait to get back to her? He just never really lets on how it makes him feel when Fitz has relationships with women. We know Fitz gets jealous of the Fool (for litch rally like no reason lol), so with the Fool being much more honest with himself/in general about his love for Fitz and having much more legitimate reason to be jealous, is he? Or is it just something he’s made his peace with, that these women give Fitz something that he cannot? Is he okay with that cos he has to be or does he have a different, less monogamous view of love and relationships (he does have three parents after all). I dunnoooo dude I just have so many questions. Like obviously - OBVIOUSLY - if Fitz and the Fool didn’t have romantic feelings for each other before, there is no doubting that romantic feelings appeared the moment Fitz appeared in the Fool’s hut. Fitz won’t admit that but mere chapters later the Fool is talking about how he loves Fitz in every way so like. He knows. So how does he feel when Fitz is calling out for Molly in his sleep, or openly speaking of seeking her out when all this is over, and lying to the Fool to protect Molly and his daughter. Really makes u think!!!!

Fitz reuniting with Sooty and going to see her every day in Jhaampe is so cuuuute and made me so happy. Sooty is a good girl :’)

Fitz be like *leans against the table where the Fool is carving and watches his fingers at work like a true repressed gay*

Verity is literally so strong???? He submerged himself in skill and was able to pull himself back from the stream can u imagine? Go off king!

Bro I literally can’t with the Fool mentioning Jofron so casually and Fitz immediately thinking wow oh my god they’re definitely fucking oh my god the Fool has a girlfriend - Fitz sweetie calm down

I love how Fitz and the Fool just naturally walk together :))) and Nighteyes babysitting Kettle is so cute

Molly never once says that she misses Fitz. She says she always expected him to do the right thing, to come after her and not leave her alone with a child. But she doesn’t look back on their time together fondly or have much positive to say about him as a person. And all that is fair, but it’s also just… Not really the behaviour of someone who’s been separated from their soulmate. It’s more just someone who’s been left in a shitty position by someone they cared about but hardly knew.

Fitz asking the Fool what is between him and Starling when they’re literally just being civil is sooooo fucking funny. Not everyone finds the Fool as irresistible as you do, Fitz.

The Fool just casually finding a pretext to call Fitz the light of his life

Fitz telling Kettricken firmly that he will not travel if the Fool is ill is one of the only times he ever puts his foot down with her GEE I WONDER WHY

I’ve said it before I’ll say it again…… there really do be something about the way Fitz can’t meet the Fool’s eyes………. It’s not like they’re weird and colourless anymore like they used to be!!!

The Fool already talking about Clerres in this book!

Fitz and the Fool and Nighteyes playing in the stream is too fucking pure omg, it’s what they deserve

And then Starling has to bloody ruin it bc she’s homophobique

But seriously, Fitz actually lets go for the first time in ages and has a nice evening only for Starling to go tattling to Kettricken, and Kettricken having the gall to confront Fitz about it. And then Fitz solves the problem by saying he doesn’t disdain her when like!! He has every right to!!!! She sold him out, sold his daughter out. She never even apologised but instead has just been totally petty and self-righteous and stirring up trouble amongst the group. She hasn’t earned or even asked for his forgiveness. So fitting that she’s the one constantly judging Fitz for his relationship with Lord Golden in Tawny Man lol, she just cannot let Fitz and the Fool be the queer icons they are!!!

Verrrrrrrrrrry interesting that Fitz only “suddenly missed the human warmth and comfort” of Starling taking his arm or sleeping against him literally IMMEDIATELY after the plumbing and love confrontation with the Fool. I mean he has been doing all of those things with the Fool (sleeping together, walking arm in arm etc.) so it’s not about human touch at all, it’s about convincing himself that a WOMAN’S touch is somehow inherently different.

He does the same thing with Starling as with Kettricken. She technically apologises but it’s not sincere and that’s not why he forgives her. Same as Kettricken, she tells her sob story and he can’t hold onto his anger. It makes sense, but it’s just very toxic. It would be nice if at least one person would really recognise how much they’ve hurt Fitz and really, genuinely want to atone for it, or apologise without expecting forgiveness. The onus should not be on Fitz to forgive Starling but on Starling to grow up and not need Fitz to like her in order to remain civil and do what they have to. Also “I do not find your wit bond offensive” has the same energy as someone telling you out of nowhere like “It’s fine that you’re gay :)” like wow thank u?? lol

Fitz is Demisexual, Exhibit C: “I wanted her with a desperation that had nothing to do with love, and even, I believe, little to do with lust.”

“By his love he is betrayed, and his love betrayed also.” So fate agrees with me, Fitz and the Fool are in love? :)

Anytime the potential that Fitz might have to choose between Molly and Nighteyes I lose brain cells. That’s ur brother Fitz!!! It’s not even a choice!! How dare u

It’s just sooooo intentionally laid out for us in this book that Fitz’s relationship with Molly really wasn’t good or healthy and that his fixation on it is misguided, and I think that’s why I struggled sooooo hard with the ending of Fool’s Fate, because it kind of implied the exact opposite. I’m hoping on this reread I will pick up on it being laid out as a result of Fitz getting his memories/teen feelings back rather than it just feeling like a lowkey retcon, but I guess we’ll see lol

“I felt I was a bit in love with him, you know. That sort of lift to the heart.” the confirmation that the Fool KNOWS HOW IT FEELS TO BE IN LOVE sends me deep into the swamps goodbyeeeeeeeeeeee

“The one who loves him best will betray him most foully.” So fate agrees, the Fool loves Fitz best :)

“You do love me! … Before, it was words. I always feared it was born out of pity.” Godddddd Foooooooooool!!!!!!!!!!!

Everything about Fitz, the Fool and Nighteyes meeting in the skill for the first time is just truly perfect iconic unparalleled.

Fitz’s love for Verity hurts my heart so much. Just think of the relationship they could have had if they weren’t stupid royals.

Kettle’s whole speech about Fitz and Molly… Just yes to every word.

Look I’m just gonna say it… The way Burrich reacts to Molly’s advances … like I know it’s probably not intentional but it just reads as very much fitting in with my headcanon that he is gay. As soon as she makes it clear she wants to sleep with him he like leaps across the room lol. I do believe he cares for her and loves her in his way, but it does feel mostly like he’ll just do whatever he needs to to care for her and the baby. Sowwy

I wonder why the Fool wasn’t as affected by his giving up of memories to Girl-on-a-Dragon?? Or was he, and he just gets them back before we see him again in Tawny Man?

“Take my hurt that I never knew my father, take my hours of staring up at his portrait when the great hall was empty and I could do so alone.” um this is so fucking sad

It was the Fool who sent Starling to find Fitz after Verity uses his body and again I have to ask, wtf is going on in your mind, Fool!

Fitz is Demisexual, Exhibit D: Even once he actually sleeps with Starling he has no enthusiasm about it, he just kind of goes along with it, likely to prove to himself that he has really let go of his past/Molly.

I always wonder why the Fool leaves now. Is it because he thinks their work is done and doesn’t want to risk messing things up by hanging around his catalyst like at the end of Tawny Man? Does he intend to come back and find Fitz again but get sidetracked by a lead or a new dream? Like it’s just weird because at first he was like “Prophet and Catalyst stick together” and was gonna stay with Fitz - or was that just an excuse because he was obsessed with Girl-on-a-Dragon? Fool u spicy lil enigma

It’s blood and the wit that wakes the stone dragons so does that mean King Wisdom was witted? Or is that obvious lol

Fitz isn’t even bothered by the Fool’s kiss, just shocked. I am looking.

Patience shouting orders at Verity-as-Dragon is beautiful ksjjk

Of courrrrrssse Burrich names his first son Chivalry

In the epilogue, the Fool is the only one Fitz actually says he misses. Exquisite.

I know some people have an issue with Regal’s death but personally I find it delicious

Okay that’s all (I say as if this wasn’t 139841989 pages long). See y’all in 92 years when my sister finally starts reading Liveship!

#realm of the elderlings #realm of the quarantine #assassin's quest #long post #fitz and the fool #Fitzchivalry Farseer #rote #ehhh idk what else to tag lol #if u read all this congrats and i'm sorry

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yugyummygot7reactions · 4 years

Text

Behind the Curtain - 7

| Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | Epilogue |

Updates are Sundays at 5pm PST! Next week is the end!!!

Characters: Jaebeom x You

Genre: Smut

Warning(s): Breath Play, Light Name Calling, Size kink? sort of not really

Word Count: 2,248

You were turning the final corner to your room when you slammed face first into a wall of a human. Im Jaebeom.

“I’m sorry!” You said as you stood up and tried to catch your breath. “

My office.” He said as he walked past you, “NOW!!”

Dealing with the situation inside of you would have to wait. It was time to face the fearsome leader.

He’s twice your size. Easily. He’s nearly a head taller than everyone but Yugyeom and is built with the shoulders of a linebacker. You fidget uncomfortably, wondering why your stomach insists on flipping like a gymnast at the Olympics. JB’s eyes settle on you, anger seething from them and for some reason you blush and quickly avert your gaze.

Jaebeom paces around the room while you just awkwardly stand there, waiting for whatever storm was about to come your way and his arms keep brushing yours as he paces. Whether it was accidental or not, it was sending shivers down your spine. He pushes a button on his desk and then finally stops to turn and face you.

“Did you know what was coming and not tell me?” He finally asked, his voice is loud in your ear, his head so close that you are occupying practically the same space in his large office. You have to fight the flush crawling up your neck having him this close. “The raid?” You ask innocently, “Why would I have known before you?” “That is the true question Y/N.” He paces again before pulling his face hairs away from yours, his eyes piercing your soul. “Why did you know before us? Are you involved?” “I didn’t know.” You said firmly, trying not to falter as your heartbeat began to race. He might seem soft to those who know him, but he isn’t the gang leader for nothing. “Ahhh…I thought we didn’t lie in this gang.” He said as he pulled back a little. “I’m not lying.” You try to convince him and a smirk overtakes his lips. “That’s impressive.” he says, taking a sip of the water you just now notice is on his desk. “You must practice a lot.” “Practice?” You asked, confused at the statement. “Yeah,” he says, slyly, “Practice keeping your life story straight, your lies straight, keeping us complacent with your nearly flawless work only to have it all come crashing down in the end.”

You were looking anywhere but him. If you make eye contact, you’ll die. Literally and metaphorically.

“Someone has to work hard to make a good girl out of you.”

His voice has dropped an octave with that comment. You feel it in your core, but have to remain calm and collected on the outside. Does that mean he is letting you live? That he has some kind of plan that will assure his victory?

“Sometimes you need direction to find your way back to where you belong, a heavy hand, maybe?” He asked as he began to come closer again. “Do you like it when someone’s strict with you? You seem to not tremble as much as I thought someone like you would.” “Someone like me?” You asked, swallowing harder than you meant to.

“A traitor.” His hand comes up—hot, searing fingertips ghost against your jaw before carefully sliding back so that his thumb hooks under your chin and the rest of his fingers can put heavy, pressure on your throat. His fingers span the entire width of your neck easily and the pressure on your windpipe quickly hits you. He leans down until his face is directly in front of yours again. You can feel your knees start trembling when you realize that your life is literally in his hand and he knows your secret. “I wish you would look me in the eyes instead of looking away all the time.” He tilts your head up, almost forcing your eyes to lock on to his. You stare fiercely, emboldened by his dare. You look at his lush eyelashes, his moles above his eye, the stubble he missed on his chin, the way his skin creases at his eyes. Most of all, you look down at his mouth—pink, soft lips that he wets with the tip of his tongue before he speaks. If this was the last thing you ever saw, you wouldn’t be too mad.

Jaebeom quickly swapped places with you and pushed you up against his desk. His one hand reaching your waist to hold you still. He squeezes, a fingertip ever so gently gliding under the waistband of your pants. It drives all of your blood south, making your clit throb against the seam of your pants. In the craziness of earlier with Jackson, your underwear had disappeared.

You yelp as JB releases your throat for a moment, grabs you around the middle and completely lifts off the ground with a pair of arms as immovable as iron shackles. You squirm, nearly managing a kick where it hurts the most, but you are pulled back tight against a warm, solid body.

“I kinda like you scared,” he counters, squeezing you. “seeing the look in a traitor’s eyes before death always gives me a rush.

“I’m not a trait-“

His hand is around your throat again in an instant. It makes your whole body dizzy, it makes you feel vulnerable as hell and you can’t help but want to melt into the arms of the man who is about to kill you. The weirdest thing is that you can breathe easily—his fingers only squeeze on the sides, effectively cutting off the blood flow to your brain, instead of your windpipe. He is trying to weaken you for information instead of just outright kill you and you realize just how skilled with his hands this man is. The effect is like a live wire to your cunt.

“Why is it you only listen when you have to be manhandled into it?”

He sets you down on your feet again and you gasp for air, the blood rushing back to your head. It sends a trickle up your spine.

His hand sneaks up your shirt to squeeze your breasts hard enough to make your whimper. “Gonna fucking devour these tits. If you’re going to lie, you’re going to die, and I might as well have some fun first.“

“Jaebeom,” you accidentally moan, sounding pretty needy.

He pulls back, wiping his mouth where spit has practically dribbled onto his chin from his forceful talking. It should be gross, but instead you want to lick him clean.

“Get on your knees, sweetheart.”

He pushes you down on the hard wood. “I always knew you were a little slut,” he mutters, undoing his belt. “Christ, the things I’ve thought about doing to you— and yet you went to everyone else but me for relief over the last few days.“ You watch his zipper with a concentration usually reserved for combat.

His cock springs out, hard and heavy under its own weight. It’s nearly as thick as your wrist.

“Fuck,” you whisper. It’s so much better than anyone else in the gang you had seen. You knew It was your last fuck and you couldn’t be happier it was with this dick.

“You’re going to suck me off until I come in that pretty little throat, right? You have to swallow, okay? Obey one last order before it’s time to go.”

You nod, entranced by the throbbing tip, where he’s leaking pearled drops of pre-cum.

You lean forward and lick the flat of your tongue up his shaft to taste him.

Immediately, he grabs a fistful of your hair, which normally you would break someone’s finger for, but you kind of like being held like this. It just shows his dominance and proves that no matter what, you can’t get away.

Your open your mouth and ease the entire head in as far as you comfortably can on the first try, but when you gag yourself a little, he makes sure to force himself in more, if only a notch deeper.

His cock suddenly jerks to draw your attention, tightening up a bit, as if trying to get harder than he already is. He begins moving your head back and forth and your jaw is already edging on its way to soreness, but somehow feeling the tip hit the back of your tongue, tasting each time more pre-come leaks out of him, feels good.

His breath becomes more labored as you suck on him more. You learned you love the way his chest heaves, the fabric of his shirt stretching across his pectoral muscles. If only you really were on his side, you both would make a great power couple both in and out of the bedroom.

One of his feet slide forward, settling between your thighs. “Good girls get to grind their pussy on my boot while they suck cock,” he growls. “I’m not even that cruel to deny someone release before their death.”

You moan around his length when your clit meets the friction of the shoe through your too thick pants. You roughly hump his leg and leave a clear puddle of evidence. Would he smell it tomorrow, your pussy on his clothes, and think of you on your knees? Crying with a cock between your lips? Would the raid happen as planned and he won’t even make it to tomorrow?

Suddenly his hips find the will to move urgently. His cock fills your throat up enough that you can’t breathe, the hand on the back of your head presses you further into the stretch, and you feel his cock push forward into your gag reflex.

You feel tears leak out of your eyes. It feels like you have been caught in a perpetual choke.

“Good girl,” he groans out. “Swallow. I want to feel it.”

Your mouth quivers. He seems too in control to come. That seems to be the theme with Im Jaebeom though, In control until the last moment.

He groans loudly, hips stuttering. “Feels so fucking good. Knew you could take the whole thing, my messy, drooling slut.”

He slides out and you launch into a coughing fit, doubling over. He gives you a second to catch your breath before tugging at your scalp again, pulling you back up on your knees. “I.. can’t.. take it, please, fucking do it already ...” you begged, not knowing at this point if you wanted him to just fuck you or kill you already. “Do what? “ he said coyly, as he slid your pants down and moved you up onto the desk, pushing his still hard tip slightly into your folds. “Kill you? No. you are too valuable for that. I need more details before you can have this suffering end. I know you aren’t on our side and that your ‘mother’ who you write to is actually your handler. I’m smarter than you clearly give me credit for.” With that, he lined himself up and quickly thrust himself into you. You couldn’t contain your loud gasp as his cock filled you up so quickly. The stretch was painfully blissful. Jaebeom began to pound into you, keeping up a consistent rhythm, hard and quick. He was going to fuck you silly so that he could get all of the information he needed. You were starting to lose focus, but you had to stay coherent. He slowed down as he felt himself come close to climaxing, his breathing becoming heavy again. “Tell me when the raid is.” He said as he slowed his pace, stopping your pleasure in its tracks. “No,” you panted, trying to keep your cool. His hands found your neck this time, cutting off airflow. “Tell. Me. Now.” His teeth were clenched and he was clearly ready for this game to be over. You shook your head as best you could. The lack of airflow and fullness of his cock inside of you was bringing you to your climax without him needing to move at all. You knew you wouldn’t last too much longer. You might even black out first. “TELL ME!!!” he screamed as he grabbed your neck tighter. Your orgasm hit you hard with his rush of anger and much to his surprise, the way you clenched around him caused his focus to slip and an orgasm hit him harder than he thought it could. He grip tightened again as he came, and before you could black out and accept your fate, the door to the office was kicked in and the special forces were there to save you. Jaebeom let go of you out of surprise and you fell to the ground coughing. The agency made it in the nick of time. “Who?” Is all you were asked by the lead; you recognized the voice as your former partner. “I’m glad you got my message to move up the raid. A second later and I would’ve been a goner.” You barely got the words out your throat was so sore.

“We can talk about that later. Who?” He asked again. “Mark, Bam Bam, Yugyeom.” You said, rubbing your neck to rid the feeling of JB’s hand trying to force the life out of you, still working on catching your breath. “What does that mean?” JB asked angrily as two men ran forward and restrained him. “Mark,” you stood up, “Bam Bam,” you fixed your pants, “and Yugyeom.” You took a gun from your former partner put it right between Jaebeom’s eyes. You heard the agency spread the word on who to save while you quickly removed the safety from the weapon. “I’m glad I was able to let you cum one last time before the end.” You smirked. “I’m not even that cruel to deny someone release before their death.”

You pulled the trigger.

_______________________________________________________________________

Hello My Lovelies!!

So that was the last smut chapter!!! What did you think??

Were you surprised on who was light or dark?

Let me know!!! Epilogue is coming next week.

Until Next Time,

~LoLo

#Behind the Curtain #yugyummygot7reactions #jaebeom #im jaebeom #got7 #jaebeom smut #jaebum smut #got7 smut #jaebum #im jaebum

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thessaliah · 3 years

Text

The reunion with someone you love, thanking someone who was unrewarded, saving of the pitiful who cry for help: universal themes in events and their connection to Roman and Olga

Benienma's charming New Year event ended and there were lots of good moments. Specially for Fionn fans who finally got their favorite to take the spotlight. Fionn is in Ireland, the equivalent of King Arthur, just like Cu Chulainn is the equivalent of Herakles, so the way FGO has handled him was horrible so far but he came around in this event and got impressive feats on his own. But I won't talk about Fionn, others have done before this. When this event dropped years ago, I and a lot of japanese players felt certain uncanny emotional parallel with Beni's old man and Mash's situation with Roman. A man who never knew happiness for themselves and always thought about the happiness of others, cloaking themselves in big lies, misunderstood alive but grieved in death. Who still died smiling because others were saved and happy, yet still they want to thank them and set things right, even if it's an impossible wish.

Mash is the one who speaks up, while she doesn’t overtly voice her parallel, we know it exists.

If I am to only fulfill my role between larger gears, There isn’t much to worry over, If “only” is good enough.

I’d like to try living, in the time I was granted. I don’t fight to suffer, Just like you said. Please, let the gentle rain fall upon me, upon our will. When I depart, I’d like for you to quietly see me off.

When I was done crying, I could no longer hear your voice. That’s how you urge me on, I see, telling me that there’s no road back.

I was born into this world to live. There is no other definite reason. I don’t need a mission or a meaning. I will live! I don’t want to Let my memories with you end in sorrow. Just like you said, The conclusion can be repainted, always.

Cut for length.

This is the song for her mental and emotional state after what she lost at the end of part 1 (Roman). It’s called Blank Space, it shows that, like Benienma, she’s continued her duty for the chance to see Roman again. This post isn’t about Roman, but also about Olga, since the prologue of Part 2 there are two heavy losses that weight Mash’s heart (also the player but Mash’s more vocal about it): first is her guilt of being unable to save Olgamarie (which was discussed and was the reason they went to save Goredolf) and the other is her sorrow with the separation with Roman whom she didn’t even properly thank for everything he did for her (was hinted how she is comforted by his room in Missions before being tore apart from it in the prologue where she had a breakdown and refused to leave). Events in FGO sometimes don’t exist in isolation, they connect to major plot arcs: Ooku continues CCC and is about the major plot of the Beasts, for example, Oniland and Christmas 2020 with Karna supply dragon lore which surely will be important in Britain Lostbelt or when Arthur confronts the Beast of Revelations. Plenty of events to build the Greek Pantheon and characters. As such, there are these small emotional catharses of events that are sometimes connected to the main characters (Mash and Guda) own desires and wishes. The desire of Guda meeting the one(s) he loved and lost again is ever-present, even in interludes:

(Abigail interlude)

The person singled out for this is always Roman. Aphrodite's song illusion in Guda's heart led toward Roman and is a mere possibility he was around (even without a blank without body, even without understanding what he's saying) what broke in Guda's defenses. It was always when they gave in about the doctor when the loop was allowed to continue. It was also the source of strength to break out of this. Because Guda can't face Roman unless they are proud of their answer and path, in death or life, they can't thematically meet again (exceptional events aside) until Guda is satisfied with their actions. Events sometimes feature this Roman-loss theme, or rather about being reunited with someone you separate from and lost what is the conclusion of one's journey: Sitonai reunites with that Berserker in Oniland, Beni with the old man, and there's that movie singularity that was all about a man who was misunderstood and made a villain by people who after his death realised their mistake and understood he loved his foster daughter's future and would protect it with his life. Mash was personally touched by that script (so was Roman, who was included by Nasu changing the original novel that was going to be published, to help the cast reshoot the movie for Mash's sake) and wanted to ensure to preserve it, the end of the movie is the daughter living well while the father is watching over, apparently alive, but with a different appearance who one day might meet his daughter again.

The other point of emotional struggle is to help or save those who pitifully want to be saved. While the reunion is nearly always involving a man (sometimes a father figure or someone who was a guardian), the saving part is almost always about a girl, usually, a girl who is doing evil actions and needs to be put down for the sake of others but Guda and Mash (if she’s around) refuse. Imaginary Scramble features two of them: "Gogh" (Clytie) and Yang Guifei. The Olga factor goes tacit in all but the male exception, Goredolf was a man, but the Olga connection was brought up explicitly in his case. This plot-line might have started with Ereshkigal Christmas event and Salem (on that note, Abigail's search and longing for her dead friend also connect and echos with Guda's losses). This started after part 1, because during Observer, those who were twisted or darkened or made villains were disposed of instead of saved (Ushiwakamaru in Babylonia for example, or all the Servants affected by madness in Orleans). Because it was not important during part 1, but it is for part 2.

(in a nonsubtle way).

IMO, the Greek Lostbelt was also a climax to voice what Mash’s (and Guda’s) wants. Mash finally breaks out and says she wants to meet Roman again and thank him for everything after the Person of Chaldea appears. They aren't speculating about his identity or his warnings, rather they are emotional about how he can't be the Doctor because his eyes are different and wish to meet him again in an emotional My Room scene. Olympus was for Olga, after U Olgamarie appears and they are left confused by her actions, that is Olga but she's their enemy, a Beast, but still they want to help her. Because that's always been one of their biggest regrets. Greek Lostbelt kicks the course of their personal emotional catharsis arc: Olga is there, but she's an enemy; an ally who resembles Roman appears but he's not their doctor. Man of Chaldea and U-Olga have the same function: to be different kinds of emotional hurdles Mash and Guda face, aside from their role in the plot (obviously they are more important than just angsty plot devices). So it begins their personal goal: meet Roman again, save Olga. Atlantis and Olympus also have a little of both. Olympus with that dream which had an emphasis Guda's feelings toward Roman, among all their losses, while Atlantis with the subplot of Corday and the nanomachines (which the priestess witnessed).

To wrap up, this is merely tangential, but this scene was translated at last, so I might give context to those who don't know it:

This weaver is "Miss Crane", who appears in Waltz in the Moonlight Lostroom, a special game released on anniversary with the plot by Nasu. Just to show how tied is Roman's story and Benienma's event narrative. The doctor created the Moonlight Room, that became a harmless singularity that exists linking past and future, similar to the Inn. Crane manages it by his request and one of Crane's goal is to reward him, even with the little she could do for him. Roman gets the broadcast of the Ball Crane arranged for him in the game’s ending. This foreshadowing that leads back to Roman was included in the same chapter Beni tells us her backstory and her wish to thank and meet that man again. And she did, in the very end, as a personal reward for her efforts, and his.

(Fate/Grand Order is a story of many meetings and departures, and meetings again).

Note that because I interpret that Mash’s and Guda’s emotional catharsis arc require: needing to help Olga (to exercise their regrets), and meeting Roman in the end (as reward), it doesn’t mean that Olga or Roman will be alive or playable in the end. Olga could sacrifice herself as Corday or Ophelia did after being saved (her choice is going to be important, because it seems build up for her to finally make a stand she wants), Roman can be met in a death-state or in the Lostroom/Moonlight room as connection of past and future. It’s just that those things needed to happen for the emotional closure and they have had a built up before the Greek Lostbelt.

#fate grand order #meta #olgamarie animusphere #romani archaman #lostbelt spoilers

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anncanta · 3 years

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Hierogamy: Dracula BBC and the myth about Kora-Persephone

Today I would like to talk about the mythological drama in the series Dracula and some of its aspects, without which, it seems to me, the perception of this text will remain incomplete, and the understanding will not be as deep as it deserves.

But first, perhaps, it is worth saying a few words about why it seems to me that it is so significant to consider the mythological drama in a work of fiction in general and in Dracula in particular. Isn't it enough just to look or read, perceiving the text as it is, and not going into the study of some complex deep layers? Sometimes it's enough. But more often – no, it isn't. The answer to the question of why so lies in the very nature of a story and the art of storytelling.

The mythological drama is never fully developed in the text at the formal level, although there is where it precisely can be seen. This seems to be a contradiction just at first glance: the drama (in its original ancient Greek meaning) is a kind of ‘deep development’ underlying all events and scenes. It is like a labyrinth, a skeleton, a matrix on which the rest is built and grows.

That is, why is it important to look ‘from here’? For the same reason that it was important for Jonathan Harker in the film to find a map: in order, firstly, to understand how the castle is arranged (and therefore Dracula himself), to relate himself to it in a certain way – and to get out of its boundaries, that is, to include the castle in a wider context, which will allow the character to find freedom.

Finding freedom, in this case, should be understood quite literally – as going beyond the limits of restrictions and, as Dracula and Jonathan each correctly note in their own way, – a look from above.

This view has many advantages, but the main thing is the ability to perceive what was seen in its integrity.

Because in a good story, ‘how’ is always ‘about what’, so if you don't understand ‘how’ or ‘for what’, or even ‘what it was’ in general, most likely you haven't read the text, and it remained for you something like a set of colored spots on the wall, beautiful or annoying, but – as researchers of the brain and psyche never tire of reminding, – in the absence of a ‘key’ such thing does not exist as the story itself.

It is not at all necessary, by the way, should be a mythological or psychological, archetypal, or fairy-tale ‘key’. Or all at once. At one stage or another in life, each viewer and reader needs their own set of the ‘keys’ or a specific one. First of all, it is the literal sense of the story at the plot level. But without a ‘key’ at all – there is no text. At least because the text itself, as a phenomenon consisting of – whether linguistic, pictorial, or auditory – signs, is a key – to our ability to imagine things that do not exist ‘in reality’, and to ideas, images, and meanings.

But back to the text.

In Dracula, the mythological drama is present at all levels, and there are no parts, ideas, or interactions between characters in any moment of the film where it would not be important in one way or another.

We will not consider all aspects in which the mythological context directly manifested itself, as it will take too much time. Let's see just one – the one that is the main motive of the film and somehow creates the main plot collision, and with it – the metaphor and essence of the story itself.

And this is the motive of hierogamy.

Hierogamy as a concept can be considered in two aspects. The first is mythological, in which it represents the name, description, and modeling in the ritual a sacred marriage (from the Greek ιερός γάμος, Latin hieros gamos) of the god and goddess, and the second is alchemical (archetypal), denoting the combination of male and female principles in the process of creating a philosopher's stone.

Hierogamy in one way or another includes a sexual context, in the sense that it puts at the center of the event and experiences ‘connection’ and ‘dissolution of boundaries’ to create a single one that will be greater than the sum of its parts.

In Dracula, both of these aspects are present and can be recognized from the very first minutes.

We will not go into details, just list a few examples.

The most obvious and conspicuous is Dracula's castle as the fruit of love between Petruvio and his wife (whose portraits hang side by side on one of the floors and, as we learn later, are the ‘entrance’ to the mystery of the castle and its structure, and at the same time – the ‘exit’ to the outside world), Jonathan as the bride of Dracula, thanks to the interaction with which the Count is able to leave his ‘prison without locks’, the connection of Mina and the remnants of Jonathan on the verge of space separated by the sacred bread, allowing Dracula to penetrate inside and give rise to a new interaction of the male and female, and so on.

But the fun begins to happen in the second episode.

Given as a prototype, a form and a plot configuration, the mythological drama of hierogamy has so far been satisfied with literal images of heroes and disclosure at the level of the plot. It was difficult to suspect something more in it than a direct (allegorical) depiction of mental and emotional processes. But in the second episode, a new layer appears in this story. Or rather, it stops hiding.

It's so simple, so obvious and so cheeky frank that when you watch it for the first time, you miss it in an attempt to follow the plot. And only by the end of the episode you do guess that you should follow something else.

Yes, we do not yet know – and we have nowhere to find out – that the action of the prologue of the second episode takes place on the same ship, which will become the stage for the internal and external drama, but the style and images, the very structure of the situation, gradually suggest what will be discussed here.

And it will be the drama of Kora-Persephone.

Let me briefly recall the content of the underlying ancient Greek myth about Kora, Hades, and Demeter.

The daughter of the goddess of fertility Demeter, Kora, attracted the attention of the ruler of the underworld, the god Hades, and he kidnapped her, taking her to him, to the lands of the dead. There Kora spent some time, communicating quite closely with Hades, after which she begged him to let her go to the ‘upper world’ for a while so that she could see her mother, whom she was terribly longing for. Hades fulfilled Kora's request, but on the condition that she would return, and gave the girl several pomegranate seeds for the journey. During her stay in the kingdom of Hades, Kora refused to eat anything, so by the time she received the gift she was very hungry, and therefore, soon after she found herself on earth, she ate the seeds. And since the pomegranate is the fruit of Hades and the symbol of marriage, this made her return to Hades a must. Meanwhile, in the ‘upper world’ fields and plants ceased to bear fruit, and eternal winter came, as Kora's mother, Demeter, mad with grief and longing for her daughter, turned away from people and nature. Zeus found a solution to the problem. He decreed that Persephone (that was the name of the goddess who had ceased to be a girl) should spend six months on Olympus, that is, with her mother, and six months – in the kingdom of Hades, now her husband.

Thus, the myth, on the one hand, describes in the language of an archaic worldview the logic of the changing seasons (Persephone on Olympus – Demeter rejoices, spring and summer come on earth, Persephone in the kingdom of Hades – Demeter suffers, autumn and winter come on earth), and from the other, represents the mystery cycle of successive transformations of a girl into a woman and the unification of male and female in sacred marriage.

Let's see how this mystery cycle unfolds in the film – on a formal and substantive level.

The ship on which Dracula sails to England is called Demeter. In the center of the plot of the episode are the abduction of a virgin (a nun is by definition a virgin, if not physically, then symbolically) and the interaction of the hero with her on a ‘lower’, deep level. Lower, in the sense – detached from the everyday, visible to everyone, taking place in the light of universal attention and perception.

The hero who kidnapped the virgin (by the way, we have no doubt that he kidnapped her, from the very beginning – just do not know how exactly it happened; and therefore our desire to follow them closely is so intense) does not completely belong to the world of the living, although he does not belong to the world of the dead either. He seems to live on the border, not being part of either of these two realities. So that no one has any doubts about who he represents, let us recall that Hades was not always associated with death among the Greeks, and was never considered the master of hell and a synonym for death and destruction. He created a kingdom for himself, which he called by his name, in order to live away from everyone. And only later did he become the ruler of the world of the dead.

Obviously, the description of Dracula's life in the castle refers to the reality of Hades in the underworld, largely parodying it. Because, although Hades is the king of shadows, he is still a king, and his kingdom is real. Whereas Dracula lives, in fact, in a dump filled with bad memories and rotting broken dolls, locked in the boxes.

But Hades also kidnapped Persephone, not on great terms.

Both stories, the mythological one, and the story told in the film, lead us to the fact that the hero (the masculinity, the organizing principle) for completeness and development lacks a partner, another view of the same world, a beloved-opposite.

Dracula finds her at the gates of the convent and, according to the logic of the mythological drama, drags her to him. There is an interesting moment: hardly, having captured Agatha, Dracula went with her immediately to the ship. Most likely, he first brought her to his home, that is, to the castle, and only after that, when the time came, he sent her to Demeter. So, their interaction began in the castle, in the literal realm of the dead, and continued on a ship in the middle of the sea, in a transitional space, in a space of changes. This fully corresponds to the myth of the transformation of Hades, who has gone from voluntary loneliness to becoming a king in the world of the dead, where everything is indefinite, mobile, unsteady and although it does not change in the sense in which it happens on earth, it represents the idea of change as it is.

Everything is possible in the space of changes, therefore, here the most important thing for the whole film takes place, and that will give the story an impulse to move forward and being resolved in the form, which we see in the third episode.

Let's turn now to Agatha's story.

On the ship, she travels in the role of Kora – at first, abducted and held in the ‘underworld’ and not realizing her position (Hades, let me remind you, having kidnapped Kora, did not immediately make her his wife, and she was sort of his guest – until the moment when she persuaded him to let her go to earth to see her mother), and then – in fact, the mistress of this very kingdom.

Why mistress? It is rather difficult to answer this question. But there are details in the text that give hints and, on close examination, leave no room for double interpretation.

The simplest and most obvious is the physical location of the characters in the frame. They are on an equal footing, both in the center, and although Agatha is shorter than Dracula, she is as ‘in her place’ as he is and feels just as confident.

The second is how they communicate. In addition to the fact that the dialogue, the beginning of which we see in the prologue of the episode, is quite friendly and mutual (no one hangs over anyone, does not threaten anyone, and does not try to pressure – for those who have forgotten what it looks like, there is the final conversation in the convent), Agatha's position is read from the phrases thrown by Dracula in passing, but very eloquent. Such as ‘You choose’ – in response to the question of who will play black and who will play white. And this is only the upper layer of interaction, there are more of them, and on each one, it is acutely felt that here Agatha is not a prisoner, but a partner.

You might say, – of course, this is all part of an insidious plan to keep Agatha in the dark, and no real courtesy (not to mention real respect and closeness) is out of the question. Dracula is just playing with his victim. But this is the essence of the story and what happens on Demeter, as well as in the space of the original drama. Hades kidnaps Persephone as something alien, beautiful, and unfamiliar, something that attracted his attention in the distant upper world and that, like a fruitful grain, fell into his dark hermetic kingdom and ignited the spark of life in it.

Hierogamy and everything that precedes it is a mutual process, otherwise it makes no sense.

But then a moment comes in the story, which in the mythological drama corresponds to the stage of the earth, empty due to the grief of Demeter and the despair of Kora, yearning for the upper world.

On the ship, which has lost most of the passengers and half of the crew, because of Dracula's appetite, tension grows, and in the same way, it grows inside Agatha, who despite her quite comfortable position, begins to realize that something is wrong here.

Internal and external tensions converge at one point – on both sides of the doors of cabin number nine. And when the doors open, the mythological drama comes to the surface.

Interestingly, the story here does not even try to hide what it really is – from a detective in Agatha Christie's style, turning into a mystery action. Moreover, it directly admits it – when Dracula invites passengers and crew members of the ship to cabin number nine and brings them to Agatha's bed, he opens the curtain.

But what is going to happen here?

Let's see what the situation is in terms of structure.

The hero, who for a long period of time keeps a woman abducted by him from the ‘upper’ world, alien to him, experiences the invasion of this very world and is forced to present this woman to those around him and somehow explain her presence in this place and their relationship. Let us recall that the relationship between Kora and Hades also remained ‘unnoticed’ for the time being, or rather, until the moment when its uncertainty began to create problems.

Let's forget for a while about the individual needs and questions of passengers and crew – the important thing here is that all the ‘inhabitants’ of the ship demand to explain what is happening and to open cabin number nine.

Demeter demands Kora to her. She does not agree to put up with the current situation and calls Hades to account.

What remains for the hero? He, as in the Greek myth, acts with cunning: in this case, in the film, he tells the story that the woman lying in (his) bed is a murderer, the terrible eater of people whom passengers and crew have been unsuccessfully looking for throughout travels.

Dracula is trying to explain Agatha's presence here and now, on this ship and in these circumstances – not only to deflect suspicions from himself, but also to structure the situation in which they find themselves – not so much because he wants it, but because that he has no other choice.

What happens on deck is a logical consequence of his decision. Brought to light Kora is no longer the same as before – having visited the kingdom of Hades and entered into a close relationship with him, she can no longer remain a girl and just a daughter of her mother. Her innocence is left in the arms of the lord of the underworld. And since he really does not intend to let her go, all that remains for him is to make their relationship ‘legal’.

The hanging scene, entirely built on the interaction of Agatha, Dracula, and the ‘choir’ consisting of the crew of the ship and passengers, looks like another erotic at the same time (after the first scene in the convent), in which Agatha again from above and again largely dictates conditions, – and as a kind of coronation scene.

But not only the one.

There are so many meanings in this scene, and they are so closely intertwined and interconnected, that in order to see them all, you should carefully examine it – slowly, gradually.

First, Agatha is placed on a barrel and a noose is thrown around her neck, intending to execute her.

It would seem, what does Hades' marriage to Persephone have to do with it?

According to ancient pagan beliefs, the remnants of which are also preserved in Christianity, the bride, who left her home and married the fiancé, was considered dying for her previous life and being born for a new one.

Not everyone on the ship agrees that an unfamiliar and barely breathing woman is indeed guilty of the murders on the Demeter, and a dispute erupts between the judges hungry for justice. Among others, the captain speaks out and says that the woman standing on the barrel is the wife of the mysterious Mr. Balaur, who paid generously for her transportation in cabin number nine, without attracting unnecessary attention.

The word ‘wife’ is important. Firstly, because Dracula (Hades) still knows more than Agatha (Kora), even if he did not fully formulate it for himself. And secondly, because in the mythological reality in which the characters undoubtedly are, words matter. Let us recall that events still take place in a transitional space in the midst of changing and constantly moving waters. In this reality, what is not uttered is not defined. What is not shown does not exist. (I don't think I need to explain to anyone that cabin number nine is Schrödinger's box.) Thus, the one who utters the word determines this reality.

In the noise that arose after the recognition of the captain, most of the spoken words are lost, but two of them are heard clearly and turn out to be the main ones. This is the word ‘bride’, declared as a negation, and ‘wife’ disputed by no one.

At the plot level, this is just a confusion, a skirmish of frightened and distrustful people, but at the symbolic level, everything is clear and logical.

First, the bride announced that she is not the one (‘I'm not Balaur's bride!’).

Second, another person declared publicly that she was the wife of Mr. Balaur. Who, in turn, is nothing more than a mask, a pseudonym for Dracula. This is not enough for marriage, you say. Yes, sure. At the plot level, no doubt. But the characters are in symbolic space. And here, in this space, it is important who utters these words.

The captain pronounces them – a person who, by his position, is the master on the ship, who has the right to judge and resolve disputes, the right to execute and pardon, and – to seal marriages.

But this is not enough either. There are almost no coincidences in such texts. It was not in vain that I mentioned that the word ‘wife’ was not disputed. A mythological drama is being played out before us, but it is being played out in a nineteenth-century setting. Therefore, for a legal marriage, another formula becomes significant.

‘And if there is anyone among us who knows the reason why this marriage should not be contracted, let's tell now or be silent forever.’

Then one final touch is missing to complete the ceremony.

The moment when Agatha asks who has the courage to knock over the barrel and hears Dracula's answer: ‘Me,’ on a metaphorical level, ‘closes’ the frame of the ritual action.

The fiancé approaches the bride and makes a movement to ‘end the game’ – literally to kill Agatha, and symbolically, to complete her transition from bride status to wife status. Here even blood is present as an attribute of the loss of virginity, even though, in this case, the bride has long since said goodbye to it. But we are talking about the symbolic aspect of what is happening.

Let's not forget, however, that the lord of the underworld kidnapped Kora-Persephone and involved her in marriage without her direct and informed consent (more on this later). Therefore, Agatha's actions, when she spits blood in Dracula's face, literally designed to reveal his vampire nature for everyone, symbolically signify the resistance of Kora-Persephone and the desire to escape from her husband. But some things, having started, are quite difficult to stop, so Dracula still knocks over the barrel. Having successfully landed surrounded by ‘guests’ at the wedding, Agatha survives. But on a symbolic level, her death was not the goal. The goal was to physically separate one part of her life from another. This is exactly what happened.

Thus, we can conclude that after the end of the second episode, we are no longer facing Kora, but Persephone – the queen of the underworld.

But, as in the myth, Persephone at this stage is still the point of intersection of the conflicts of several characters. This is Hades, who wants her to return to him from the upper world, Demeter, who does not think to retreat, and... Persephone, who needs to deal with herself and who she is now, and how she will continue to be.

At the mythological level, it is the conflict that will become central in the third episode.

In the myth, at the request of Persephone and Demeter, Hades released Persephone to the upper world, giving her (some sources say – forcing to eat, but this is unlikely since it does not correspond to the function of that types of objects in myths and fairy tales) several pomegranate seeds... It was because of this that Persephone, having eaten them already on earth, was forced to return back to the underworld.

Do you remember what happens in the third episode?

Zoe van Helsing (a doctor, who, by profession, every day deals with the reality of both the ‘upper’ and ‘lower’ worlds, and exists and works on their border) – who can be considered a kind of ‘earthly’ incarnation of Agatha, Persephone from ‘upper world’, meets Dracula, whom she did not think to meet. By her own admission, she never really believed that Dracula would be found. And Dracula, seeing that his ‘wife’ does not remember him and does not want to return, gives her his blood and offers to ‘read’ it – if Zoe guesses how to do it.

That is, you understand – he does not directly offer her to drink his blood. He only gives her what she wants. Just like in the myth.

Zoe is a researcher, and besides the fact that she may have hoped that Dracula's blood would somehow help her recover from a fatal disease, she probably really wanted to know the secret of vampire blood, as any real scientist, inquisitive and hungry for knowledge.

Now let's turn to myth again. Persephone ate the pomegranate seeds that Hades gave her because she was hungry because she refused food all the time she was with him.

By the way, these seeds originated from drops of Dionysus blood.

The connection of Dionysian ecstasy, wine, blood, intoxication, and the processes occurring at the level of the ‘lower world’ – the world of the corporeal and the unconscious, is spoken directly in the text several times, but I think there is no need to dwell on this here.

After that, it is not surprising that the symbolism of the field appears here, – in the middle of which Zoe finds herself after drinking Dracula's blood. If in the second episode Demeter was present as a ship, a womb, a mother, carrying the potential of the future and protecting her child, then in the third she appears before us as a fertile layer, a bed, giving Agatha-Zoe-Persephone her blessing and, thus, the opportunity to complete the transformation and become a full-fledged spouse of her husband, at the same time, keeping the connection with the mother on a new level.

All this allows the story to unfold in the finale in a mysterious – alchemical context.

The fact is that the cult of fertility, the cult of Kora-Persephone, presumably formed the basis of the Eleusinian mysteries, mythology, and philosophy of which greatly influenced the views of medieval Western European alchemists. From here comes the similarity and continuity of images, ideas, and descriptions of processes, a close, often inherited metaphor, and, in a certain sense, an underlying common myth.

As the screenwriters themselves remind in one of the interviews, Dracula is a story of resurrection. So there is nothing surprising in the fact that in the finale of the third episode and the entire film, the mythological motive of Kora-Persephone and the alchemical one – coniunctio oppositorum* – are combined in one hierogamy.

This is openly stated in the text as well. In one of the last scenes of the series, Dracula says, addressing everyone present at once, and indirectly to the viewer: ‘Journey's end. Lovers meeting.’ This is a literal description of the alchemical stage of the union of the masculine and feminine principles.

Therefore, in the final scene, he and Agatha are making love – at the level of the plot, this is due to the development of their relationship as individuals, as a man and a woman, but at the symbolic level this is because the opposites they represent have reached a state where they can merge to give the beginning of a new one.

It is important to remember here what the story is constantly showing visually: there is what is happening on the ‘outer’ plane and what is on the ‘inner’ plane. The space of the film is constantly divided into two levels-states: Dracula's castle and the monastery, the monastery and the area in front of the monastery gates; what is happening in Agatha's workshop and the same thing – recorded in Dracula's blood and played in Zoe's head, Dracula and Agatha, lying on the table in Dracula's apartment, and Dracula and Agatha together in a golden light.

Let me remind you again: a real myth, an archetypal drama, very rarely unfolds in front of the viewer or reader directly, told in literal, poster language. Most often they turn out to be ‘wrapped’, embedded in the shell of a legend, parable, or fairy tale. In this sense, nothing has changed since the time of the ancient Greeks. The basic narrative structures are the same. How, perhaps, we all remained the same. Therefore, stories like this work. Therefore, they are important.

And also – because they are all-conquering beautiful.

* Сoniunctio oppositorum (Latin) – the combination of opposites. One of the key stages of alchemical Work.

P. S. In conclusion, I would like to show a few symbolic images from alchemical treatises. I will not show the corresponding scenes from the film – I think you yourself will recognize them. The first two illustrations are prints from the Splendor Solis, the third – from the Rosarium philosophorum.

#dracula 2020 #bbc dracula #count dracula #agatha van helsing #meta

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ikenbar · 3 years

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Mr. Love: Ike’s Choice CH4 PT8

aaaand we back in the angst. Don’t worry about sitting pretty in it tho. expect those fluffy moments to hit soon B)

Warnings: Angst, heated arguments, talk of death; explosions; and harsh flashbacks, big swear for the swear jar, mad twists, Adri being an OG, the thickening of some epic plot, and a cliffhanger leaving you begging for more >:D

(Chapter Four (Victor and Gavin) Prologue, and part one, two, three, four, five, six, and seven can be found here!)

Please read the author’s note (and the beginning of the story) on chapter one part one if you’re new here :D

And an additional note in a previous part of chapter four part three here! (I promise these notes are important)

Chapter four:

Part eight:

Victor leaned back, clearly thrown off guard by my words. I sat up straight and pulled my hands from Victor’s. “I need to get back to work.” I said, moving to stand. Victor, coming to his senses, quickly stood and pushed me back down.

“No, you’re not.” He boomed, standing over me, giving me no space to try and stand again, “And we are going to the police after work.”

“No, I’m not!” I said with the same determination before. I pushed Victor roughly away from me. He stumbled back enough to give me space to get back onto my feet. I threw my plate of food onto the coffee table half-hazardly as I glared at Victor with determination, “That guy is mine! I will be the one who takes him down. So no, I’m not going to the police. And neither are you.”

“Is that a threat?” Victor growled and he walked back up to me. He towered over me, obviously trying to intimidate me. I merely looked up at him, a cocky grin slinking onto my face.

“Nope!” I chimed, folding my arms proudly, “It’s your word against mine, Victor, and all you know is what I’ve told you. Sure you can go to the police with speculation, but you have no evidence to support your claim. I’d know. I also have no evidence.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” Victor rolled his eyes, “Ike, this is way over your head!! Do you have one good reason to keep this to yourself?!”

“Yes.”

“Oh really?! What is it then?!”

“… it is my business. Not your own."

"Ike-"

"Now if you'll excuse me," I moved to walk away but Victor stopped me. He grabbed my arms and held me steady in front of him, forcing me to face him. I looked up and glared at him.

"One reason, Ikamara." Victor's tone had changed dramatically. I relaxed my glare, "Tell me one reason we shouldn't go to the police and I'll drop it." I froze. Every part of me screamed to keep pushing Victor away, to protect him from getting too close and knowing too much. But, after one last look in his pleading eyes, I knew that he wouldn’t let me get away with pushing him off any longer.

I closed my eyes and sighed, "... he killed my friend.”

Victor's fingers twitched around my arms.

I twisted myself from his grip as I recalled the events of that horrible day. “... We were following a lead into a warehouse. There was a secret room… a bomb… an explosion… I had to bring him back to life… with my own bare hands." My voice cracked. That image of Gavin’s lifeless body held form in front of my eyes, "It’s only a matter of time until it happens again… and…” I paused. Then, without hesitation, I looked unfalteringly up at Victor, locking eyes with him, “It’s not going to be you. Not if I can help it.” Victor looked down at me, eyes flooded with those familiar undecipherable emotions.

Before he could say anything, my eyes flickered next to him, where they landed on a fourteen year old boy staring at his phone. My face suddenly felt like it had been set on fire. It was then that I became very aware how very not alone Victor and I were.

I jumped back from Victor and looked around the room, preparing rounds of lies and explanations in my head…

but I stopped.

No one was moving. They were all posed in one motion, all looking over at Bart, who hadn’t moved an inch from his position on the floor. Not even Lola had wavered from where I had seen her last, with her small hand posed over Bart's knee.

No one was moving. No one was breathing. Everyone was frozen.

Almost like they were stuck in time.

I looked back at Victor in disbelief. He was watching me, eyebrow arched and hands in his pants pockets. He looked as calm and stoic as ever…

… As if he knew exactly what was happening.

My disbelief sunk into curiosity was I studied him, questions posed on my tongue. Victor merely sighed as a small smirk pushed up his cheeks. “Dummy.” He muttered, moving to sit back down on the floor. I opened my mouth.

Just then the room snapped back to life. Bart groaned as he reached over and rubbed the baby Lola’s head. She giggled and fell onto his knee, slobbering on his suit pants. “Ah that’s probably how that anonymous tip got out.” Bart lamented, as if he was continuing where he had left off, “The reporters coming here is my fault.”

“Oh, Bartholomew.” Chris sighed, making me snap my head to face him, “You’ve got to learn how to keep your mouth shut! It’s gonna be the death of you! Or more, in this case, Ikie!... Ike?” Chris finally looked up at me. His perfect smile wavered slightly, “Something wrong?” I hesitated. Had they not heard a word of what Victor and I talked about? I literally said I was being targeted! Did… no one care?

I stole a quick glance at Victor. He was sitting casually at the end of the coffee table, eating his food once again as if nothing happened. I narrowed my eyes.

“... No.” I said, straightening my expression and posture, “I… Bart, what did you mean by anonymous tip?” Bart looked up at me through the gaps in his fingers.

“Hm? Oh I called our inside in the media.” Bart replied, sitting up, “She said that she got a call telling her about what happened. All the way down to the place your office was. It was because of my big mouth, Ike. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I waved Bart off limply, slightly lost in thought, “Did she say whether or not this person was male or female?”

“No. She said that they used a voice modulator.” Bart said, intrigue and blind curiosity dripping from his tongue, “One that made their voice seem lower and more mechanic. Whoever it was, they really didn’t want to be found out.” I hummed and furrowed my brows.

Who would modulate their voice for an anonymous tip?

“Evie, dear.” Maria said from behind me, making me turn to face her, "Are you sure everything is alright? You look worried.”

“Yeah.” I said slowly, “I need to get back to work. Thank you for the meal.”

“But, you’ve still got some food left!” Sam chuckled gesturing to my half empty plate.

“I’ll heat it up during my next break.” I moved past the couch and away from the group, “Besides, I have a lot I need to do before I go home today.”

“Wait, Ike!” Bart quickly scooped up Lola and stood up from the floor, “I wanted to talk to you about that. I don’t think you should take your bike home today.”

“What?” I snapped my head around.

“At least not until this whole thing blows over.” He said, throwing his free hand up defensively as he walked over to me, “I don’t want anything happening to you while on the road. That thing is a death wish as it is. Then you throw in some reckless reporters-”

“And someone will aggressively write a story about my driving? ” I arched my eyebrow, “I’ve been driving that bike for years, Bart. I’ll be alright.”

“You could still get hurt!” Maria spoke up from the couch, “You never know what these people would do to get a story.”

“Maria, I’ll be fine.” I rolled my eyes and turned back to my desk, “I can take care of myse-”

“Oh. my. GOSH!!” Adri shouted from her place on the couch, causing everyone to jump. She glared at me sinisterly. “You drive a two wheel drive that has had more accidents than the average vehicle! Not only that but you just got out of the hospital! Do you really want to go back in?!?” Everyone in the room was frozen in place, speechless because of Adri’s sudden outburst. Adri, reading the room, breathed a loaded sigh, “All they are asking you to do is get another ride.” She continued, arching her eyebrow and glaring at me, “That’s all! Is that really too much to fucking ask?”

“Swear jar.” Ashton spoke up for the first time that day. Adri whipped her head around and glared at him. I hesitated, looking around the room. Nearly everyone’s eyes were on me, waiting for my answer. I could read the same emotion on each of their faces.

It was an emotion I was tired of seeing.

I sighed. “I need to ride the bike home-but,” I said quickly before anyone could interrupt me, “I'll get someone to pick me up and drop me off at work starting tomorrow. Minor, would you-”

“I’ll take you.” A cool voice came from the coffee table, making all of us turn to face it. Victor stood up, empty plate in hand and determination on his face. I looked at him in disbelief.

“N-no. You’ve done enough alre-”

“It wouldn’t be out of my way.” Victor said simply, walking to the trash can beside his desk to dispose of his plate, “I drive by your complex on the way home anyway.” I opened my mouth to argue more but Victor held up a hand, “If you are really concerned about the trouble, I’ll add the gas money to your investment fund.” I shut my mouth and glared at him. There it is again. The investment.

“Yes!” Bart pointed at Victor happily, “Let’s do that!”

“Bart-” I started, trying to regain control of the situation.

“It’s settled then!” Maria said, standing from the couch and clapping her hands, “Ike will ride with Victor from now on!”

“Hold on!” I tried again, but was interrupted once again.

“Wait does this mean Victor has to pick me up from school too?!” Sam asked with both excitement and worry.

“I’ll send a driver to pick you up.” Victor said, walking back to his desk.

“Sweet! My own personal driver!” Sam beamed, looking at me for approval. I arched my eyebrow. Sam’s smile plummeted. “...I-I mean,” He quickly said, throwing his hands up, “Not that you aren’t a better personal driver! I mean one outside of the family! I-I bet this driver has nothing on you, Ike!... Evie?” Sam smiled at me innocently. I rolled my eyes and looked over to Victor. He was also looking at Sam with a complacent expression. Sensing my stare, he turned to face me.

“There’s no getting out of this, is there?” I asked dully.

“No.” Victor, Bart, Maria, Adri, and Sam said at once. I sighed and turned back to my desk, where I sat in the chair and ran my face through my hands.

“I still don’t like the idea of you going out alone tonight.” Bart said uneasily. I pulled my hands down my face and looked over to him.

“I can go with her!” Adri said, raising her hand from the couch. Maria glared at her.

“You have school.” She said in her menacing motherly tone.

“Didn’t you hear?” Adri said, flashing a devious grin, “Today is a half day! I was going to hang out with friends after school but I’ll just spend the night with my favorite sister instead!” Bart and Maria glared at their newest foster daughter in silence.

“...I’m too worried for Ike’s safety to double check that.” Bart finally said, keeping his squinty eyes on Adri. Maria turned to me.

“Would you be ok with Adri spending the night?” She asked sweetly. I looked back at Adri. She grinned at me and winked. I hesitated. She obviously had something planned. But what? What could I have for her? Maybe she planned on ditching me to hang out with her friends? But then why would she be so persistent in getting me a ride home? And why was she so angry before? What caused her attitude to change so quickly like that… There really was only one way to find out.

“Sure.” I said, turning to face my computer, “but I warn you, Adri, my life at home isn’t very exciting.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Adri chimed.

“I’ll follow Ike home and be sure she is safe.” Victor said, standing from his place at his desk. He put his hands in his pockets and looked over to me. I looked away disgruntledly.

“Can I come?!” Sam asked hopefully, looking between Bart and Maria.

“You have soccer practice today, mister.” Maria scrubbed his head roughly. Sam whined but didn’t say anymore. Maria smiled and looked over to Victor. “I’ll give you a copy of the kids’ schedules. Be sure to send me the bill.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Victor waved his hand dismissively, “I’ve got it handled.” I rolled my eyes. He sure was wasting a lot of money just to prove a point.

“Then it’s settled!” Bart clapped, “Adri will go home with Evie today and Victor will follow. Then he will take her to and from work until everything is cleared up! Great! Now! Let’s finish eating in my office and let Ike and Victor get back to work. Say goodbye to Ike kids!” Bart jogged happily to the coffee table and started packing the food back into the bags. Everyone complied to his demands and scattered thank yous and goodbyes came from various voices in the room. I stood up as Sam came running up to me. He jumped up and gave me a big hug.

“Don’t worry.” He whispered in my ear, “I told Adri I called dibs on the next sleepover.”

“Noted.” I said as I ruffled his hair. Sam laughed and pulled away from me, just in time for Chris to replace him. He lifted me up in the air and rocked me back and forth, all while squeezing the life out of me.

“Be safe, Ikie!” He said in between the swings.

“You too.” I coughed, giving him a few pats on the back, for it was all I could do in that situation. Chris dropped me and walked away. I just barely had time to breathe as Adri approached me.

“Sister!” She said, holding her arms out wide. I winced slightly but that didn’t stop Adri from wrapping her arms around my neck. She pulled me close to her, letting her head rest next to my ear. I hugged her back, patting her lightly on the shoulder.

"I can't wait for tonight!” Adri whispered into my ear as she rubbed my back slightly, “Especially since you're gonna tell me all about that pretty little target on your back.”

All my blood pooled to my feet.

“H-how…” I stammered.

“What, you think your little conversation with Victor was left unheard?” Adri chimed, “‘Do you really think it will stop the man who will do anything to see me dead?!’ ‘He sent a bomb through my ceiling!’ ‘It’s my word against yours!’ Really, Ike, it’s like you’re trying not to hide it. Though it does surprise me that I was seemingly the last person to know.” I tightened my arms around Adri’s body.

“This stays between us.” I spoke seriously and coldly, “Understand? Not a word to Bart and Maria.”

“Geez, alright!” Adri gasped as she tapped my back, “I promise I won’t say anything!” I eased my grip and pulled away from Adri. She keeled over, rubbing her stomach and breathing deeply. I ignored her show as I looked over to Bart and Maria.

They were talking merrily to Victor as if there was absolutely nothing to worry about. I furrowed my eyebrows. I had said I was being targeted when I was with Victor so, why aren’t they talking about it? Why aren’t they worried? If Adri heard the conversation then shouldn’t they have as well? Just what happened when Victor and I were talking?

“Hey,” Adri patted my head, forcing my attention to her, “You can’t keep your thoughts to yourself anymore. You’ve gotta tell me what you are thinking or I will just be someone with valuable information! You wouldn’t want that just walking around willy nilly, right?” Adri grinned mischievously.

“Well” My voice fell an octave as I folded my arms and arched my brows, “there is another way I could make sure that information doesn’t leak…” Adri’s grin quickly fell from her face. I rolled my eyes. “Don’t worry, kid.” I said, patting Adri on her shoulder, “After all, I’m your favorite sister.”

“How can you make that sound so menacing and kind at the same time?” Adri chuckled nervously. I winked at her before ushering her forward, leaving room for the rest of our family to say their goodbyes.

>>>

Once everyone had left, Victor and I sat quietly at our desks. I tapped my pen on my desk, lost in thought.

“So,” Victor said without looking up from his computer, “You’re an evolver.”

My pen fell from my hand.

I tried to speak but my words had gotten lodged in my throat. How could he have known?! Was it the way I pushed him to the ground?! I didn’t use that much power. Maybe I miss judge my evol more than I’d like to admit.

“I had my assumptions but,” Victor continued in between my silence, “I wasn’t completely certain. But now, it’s quite clear why you insist on taking care of yourself.”

“H-how?” I managed to stutter, turning to look at Victor. Victor scoffed as he turned to me

“Are you that slow? You really didn’t notice anything strange during our conversation earlier?”

My eyes widened, “So I wasn’t imagining that!... That was you?” Victor gave me a look that I received far too often.

“What do you think?”

“So you’re an evolver too? Wait, so your evol is to freeze people in place?”

“Dummy.” Victor sighed as he turned back to his work, “I can control time.”

“Can people still hear us when you do that?”

“No.”

“...what?”

“Do you really think I would start that kind of a conversation in front of your parents?” Victor retorted, turning back to me, “Let alone your siblings?”

“Wait.” I shook my head and held up my hands, “You’re saying no one else could have heard our conversation?”

“No.” Victor turned back to his computer, “Not unless they were also evolvers.”

“... what?”

“They had to have been an evolver to have heard our conversation.”

My heart stopped.

Victor, noticing my change in attitude, turned back to me. “What is it?” He asked, seriousness easing back into his tone. I opened my mouth.

A knock came from the door. “Sorry, ignore me.” Adri came into the room, looking down at her phone, “Maria forgot her diaper bag so I… came… to” Adri looked up from her phone to see Victor and me staring at her, “... Unless you guys have some sort of emotional connection to it. Then I can tell her it wasn’t there-”

“N-no.” I cleared my throat and gestured to the sitting area, “Go ahead.” After a moment of confused silence, Adri did as I said and continued walking into the room. I started mindlessly tapping my pen on the desk as I watched Adri, thinking over everything Victor had just said.

“...Oh, and Adri?”

“Hm?” Adri hummed.

“I’m excited to have you over tonight.”

“Oh really?” Adri sang, picking up the bag and turning to look at me.

“Yeah.” I nodded and stopped tapping my pen, “I get the feeling we have a lot of bonding to do.”

(Next)

#ehehehhehehehheheh #you know thats right #we got twists #we got turns #we got things you probably guessed from the moment you met the character #but i bet you wont guess their evol #go on #send me an ask with your theories #ill wait #mlqc #mr love #mlqc victor #mlqc fanfiction #mr love fanfic #mr love victor #mr love ikes choice #ike n bar productions #ikamara bikira story #fanfiction

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trustsalvatorewriting · 4 years

Text

wasteland, baby! | kol mikaelson - chapter eleven

Summary: Kol makes a deal with the Hollow to revive the first woman he ever loved. Unfortunately, it doesn’t go as planned.

Trust’s Note: Please like and reblog! I hope you enjoy. I added some Rebekah and Aniya content for y’all <3

Word Count: 2,300

❝ forgive me, for the things i did but most the ones i did not ❞

KOL WATCHED SILENTLY as Keres set a grimoire in front of him. The small building in the cemetary was lit up only by faded sunlight and several candles, scattered around the area. Aniya lifted an eyebrow at the witch, critical eyes watching for any reason to turn away from Keres and search elsewhere. Her mouth twitched when Keres suggested Henry Pearl's sacrifice, posture shifting at the smug look on the witch's face. Her fists clenched together, body void of any amusement as she prepared her attack against the younger witch.

Kol cleared his throat, stepping in front of Aniya. Frankly, he wasn't sure who he was protecting. He was only sure that there seemed to be a smug look on Keres's face. He narrowed his eyes, but quickly replaced it with a polite smile.

"The human is off the table, unfortunately. Perhaps we should move onto some other possible victims," Kol suggested. He all but shoved the grimoire in Keres's direction, a quiet suggestion that she find another solution.

It was an odd dynamic. Physically, Keres was much older than Aniya and Kol. She was a dark-skinned woman in her mid-to-late twenties, while Aniya and Kol were frozen in their teenage years. Still, Kol found himself a bit offended. Keres would have known to offer some respect to her elders.

Aniya lifted her chin, hand lightly pushing Kol to the side. She stared Keres in the eyes, as if daring the witch to lie to her. "You're quite insistent, aren't you? So willing to sacrifice my Henry for a spell you wouldn't stand to benefit from. Keres, he has no power; no ties to the supernatural world -- and yet, you suggest we trade his life for a thousand year old immortal witch?"

She had a sharp tongue for a girl her size. It was odd. She was different from the girl he'd found curled up in the foyer that night. Aniya Grover was strange, in a manner that made his lips curl at the edges and eyes glitter in amusement. She'd had a chameleon soul; an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and wavering as the ocean. Had it been Henry Pearl that awoke this fire within her?

Whatever the answer, Kol's stomach twisted at the seams. The thought of her wrapped in his arms was enough to make him gag. He couldn't bring himself to understand why.

Keres turned the grimoire in Aniya's direction, a smug look painted across her face as she pushed it toward her. "Sacrificed are more likely to work when the emotional bond is the same between the victim and the vessel. Tyaag spells are known for failing. It's more likely to work if you care as much about the person you're sacrificing, as you do the person you're trying to bring back. So, a best friend, a brother, a boyfriend..."

It registered then that Aniya had none of those. She'd only had Henry. Kol shifted his stance. If Keres's words were true and she chose to sacrifice someone she cared for, she could only choose Henry. As far as Aniya was aware, the Mikaelsons couldn't be killed. And regardless, she'd said once that they had all been family to her in her human days. Surely she wouldn't throw that away in exchange for a human she'd just met.

Surely she wasn't that idiotic.

Aniya's jaw clenched, a bitter smile spreading across her face. Her dark eyes bored into Keres's. "No."

Keres's eyes glimmered with delight, a smile spreading across her red lips. Her tone shifted, mocking the girl in front of her. "So you'll let an innocent human die in exchange for your brother? You are cruel, Aniya."

"He is innocent." Her confidence never seemed to waver. Her right hand clenched into a fist, the whites of her knuckles beginning to peak through her olive skin.

"Perhaps we should focus our attention on smaller spells," Kol cut in, the rising tension in the room seeming to eat away at him. "How many humans do we need for the memory spell? Fifteen? Fifty?"

"Five." Keres stared at him as if he'd gone mad. "One for each of the Mikaelson siblings."

Aniya questioned, "I thought Finn died."

"Mikaelsons never properly die. We never learned," Kol responded, then turned back to Keres. He would explain later. "Five humans in exchange for decades of memories. It's quite simple, don't you think?"

"You were humans when your memories were erased, so we only need to erase human memories." Keres explained. "They all need to be eighteen at the youngest and in their thirties, at the oldest."

Aniya frowned. "And what of Mikael and Esther? We won't be returning theirs?"

Kol nearly laughed at her question, the past centuries replaying in his brain. Mikael had hunted he and his siblings for centuries, in the hopes of murdering Niklaus and doing God knows what with the rest of them. He'd been killed and brought back countless times, once in particular as a result of Davina Claire.

Esther had been murdered by Niklaus a thousand years ago. She was killed and brought back several times as well, and each time she'd carried a sort of vendetta against her own children. It was as if she'd made it her life's goal to wipe them from the face of the Earth. But then, it had been Esther that had resurrected him in the body of a witch, and it had been Esther that introduced him to Davina.

Part of him resented her for it. Davina had made him a better person, that much was true. He'd fallen in love with her, convinced himself that the moon and sun rose and fell by her will alone. She had bewitched him, in ways he could not bring himself to justify nor understand. It had been Esther that introduced the pair; but then, it had been their meeting that caused Davina's death in the first place.

A heavy weight seemed to drop onto his chest. Aniya would never know the cruelty of his mother's actions. He might have envied her for it, but there seemed to be this part of him that felt a bit relieved.

"You're better off assuming they've truly died," Kol said after a moment.

"You two really have a thing for being melodramatic. Y'all deserve each other," Keres stated. "I'll get everything you need for the spell. Bring me five people, and I'll erase one year of their lives for each year you knew the Mikaelsons."

Aniya lifted an eyebrow. "And how do you benefit from this?"

"My people have lost their ties to the ancestors. We have no power and no idea how to practice earth magic. Tyaag magic is the closest thing we've got, so I wanna learn more about it," She answered almost too perfectly.

"These spells can't be practiced by ordinary witches--"

"So we'll make a new branch of magic," Keres shut her down immediately. "One where we don't have to die to become all powerful."

Aniya's face twisted into a glare, baring her teeth at the witch. Kol narrowed his eyes at Keres, immediately understanding the gravity of the situation. Tyaag magic had been forgotten, buried and disrespected for centuries. It had originated from polytheistic beliefs, with the hope of appeasing their gods. Aniya and her brother had given their lives to sacrificial magic and rituals, and now it would be stolen and forgotten without so much as a thought.

"People have lost their lives to practice these rituals," Aniya said. "You mean to tell me that you're willing to put the lives of children on the line, for the sake of convenience. You have the ability to practice earth magic, why not use it?"

"I'm trying to help you. Why ask so many questions?" Keres spoke as if Aniya were a child, trying to put her back in her place. Aniya seemed to fall back under Keres's gaze.

"I'll provide you your humans. I'll need only a few days."

She turned on her heel and made her way out of the cemetary building. Kol stared after her, a small voice in his head screaming to defend her against Keres. Before he could so much as let out a word, Keres said, "She's stubborn. You might want to find your humans sooner. I'm sure Klaus will figure out you're lying eventually, and we wouldn't want that."

'No.' Kol would be daggered and shoved in a box before he could begin to defend himself. In regards to Aniya, there was no telling how he would react to a betrayal from someone so foreign, and vulnerable. For all he knew, she would be killed as a form of punishment. His consequence for disobeying direct orders.

Niklaus had become a madman, a dictator over the years. Perhaps he'd spent a bit too much time with King Louis. Whatever the reason, it occurred to Kol that there was no telling how he would respond to twenty years of ancient memories being thrust toward him. He had hoped the twins had been close with Niklaus in their past lives. Then he might be a bit more lenient about completely slaughtering the poor girl.

Kol nodded half-heartedly at Keres and made his way out of the cemetary. Maybe there would be some humans in his path, grieving over a lost lover or family member. Maybe they would be heartbroken enough to wish to forget their grief, exchanging it for a bit of amnesia and the aching feeling that they were missing something... indespensable.

To be quite honest, Kol wasn't sure how he found himself in front of Davina's grave, how he'd somehow managed to wander there despite the exit being several paces away. He was met with a crack in the cement, the old stone beginning to harden, immortalizing the girl that lied behind it. He knew that he could not make anyone understand the insurmountable grief he held in his chest. He could not make anyone understand what was happening inside him, and he could not begin to explain it himself.

Immortals such as he should not have been able to love the way humans do. Humans loved based on survival, lived viscerally and vulnerable out of fear of their own morality. With the destruction of the stake, Kol feared nothing of the sort. Davina had feared it all, and she had loved him regardless of his dirtied fingers and blood-drenched lips. She had saved him, resurrected him when his family had all but forgotten him once more.

He knew he should have had the courage to move on. Humans die, witches die. It was what they were made to do -- and yet, he simply couldn't bring himself to let go of the girl that had loved him so dearly. The one that had given so much to ensure he would come back. He owed her that much.

It was when he turned the corner that he was pulled out his thoughts, attention now focused on a drunken man tossing old beer at a gravesite. Kol lifted an eyebrow.

"Excuse me." He made his way towards the man. The old man couldn't have been any younger than forty, perhaps fifty. He would be able to fill in for Finn. Nearly thirty years of memories shouldn't have too much of an affect on a bastard such as this.

"Oh, hello," He slurred, words tainted with a heavy Swedish accent. The man moved recklessly, beer spilling out of the bottle and landing on the ground. Kol wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Please, ignore me. I'm simply having a drink with my wife."

"Yes. Well, you're being quite disrespectful to her memory. Most men would kill to have had a happy marriage," Kol paused for a moment, his eyes fixating on the man's bruised knuckles. A bitter smile formed on his face. "Tell me about your wife."

"Ah, she was beautiful. We met in secondary school, you see. She was this tall brunette girl, quite beautiful in her own way. Our parents despised each other, a sort of Romeo and Juliet-esque situation. We were together for two years before we ran off to America, claiming it was for university purposes." The old man had a tendency to stop in the middle of his sentences, taking a short sip of his drink. He let out a laugh. "My son does love to keep me away from this stuff. Says it's bad for me, the fucking idiot."

"Your son," Kol repeated, gaze flickering to his knuckles once more. His mouth began tasted of blood, a hatred beginning to sear inside of his chest. "Tell me, how did you manage to end up in New Orleans?"

"Ah, it was our first stop. Woman wanted to go to Tulane or whatever it was, but she chose me over her studies. Smart move on her behalf, perhaps one of her only ones," The man chuckled. "A while after, we found she was expecting. We had a boy, and she became ill a few years later. I stayed by her side during that time. I had promised her till death, of course. She was ungrateful nevertheless."

"How's your son?"

"Ah, he's all right now. Twenty-three, but works in a diner like his mother. Fucking idiot doesn't know how to make something of himself," He scoffed. "Sleeps all day, too."

It clicked then. Kol felt as though he'd ate the world raw. He nodded to himself and grabbed the man, wrapping a hand tightly around his mouth and squeezing until he went limp in his arms.

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buck-nialled · 4 years

Text

Empty Pages - R. Mendes (3)

NOTE: well if you saw my last post then you know how this chapter is going to end but if you haven't, well, get ready *cue evil laughter* also let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list by messaging or replying to this post, thanks!

PROLOGUE // PART ONE // PART TWO

Raul was not expecting to put that much effort into the drawing, really. Half of the hard work was already done, thanks to Lily and Mrs. Basel discussing most of what the work’s finer elements were right in earshot of him. The boy thought by the time he was finished sketching out the rough design in number two pencil, going as far as to outline it in black pen exhibited enough effort. But he knew it was lacking in its message and persuasion. The anger only the red colored pencil glaring at him from the unopened box buried beneath the healing pile of past schoolwork on his desk could portray to his audience. His fingers twitched and finally, his body caved and leaped up from his bed and to his desk where he reached for the box of perfectly sharpened, untouched pencils.

He was tentative with his color choice, and even more cautious when blending the different shades and allowing movement across the piece. No weights nor frivolous purchases of ripped jeans and leather jackets would come to be quite as cathartic as scrubbing the colored lead furiously back and forth across the paper. A full two hours had passed when Raul finally conceded to his completed drawing and set the dull pencil down. His hands were cramping, and various splotches of blended wax tainted his palms and knuckles like bruises, but he felt okay with it, strangely.

“Hey, Raul do you—” Shawn’s voice made his brother’s head snap up from the drawing to look at him. “Woah, dude…that looks great.” Shawn slowly approached his brother’s work with caution, afraid to lift even a finger in fear of Raul reaching out to snap it. “And I thought you were going to cheat off of me or Pete.” He chuckles, eyes continuing to study the slogan and illustration encompassing the destruction of routine and tradition. “You came up with this yourself?”

Raul bit his lip, now becoming irritated with Shawn’s wandering eyes. “Did you need something?” The older asks, rising up from his bed so his frame could shield the paper. Shawn’s eyes grew wide and he cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I was just gonna ask if you still had that drawing stuff. You know, the stuff that mom gave you that one—” Shawn’s ask was interrupted with a sharp “oof” when Raul shoved the box of pencils against his chest.

“Anything else you need?” He quirks a brow to his brother. Shawn sets his lips into a firm line and shakes his head, before sending Raul a quick ‘thanks’ and retreating back into his own bedroom. When his bedroom door is shut once again, Raul heaves a sigh and lets his tired hands into the river of curls say on his head. The heap of gel he applied to his hair this morning made the dark locks a little less smooth than what he had imagined. Turning back to face the paper with a sigh, Shawn’s unanswered question continued ringing in his ears until he slid the paper into his folder and the folder into his backpack.

“It’s just a project. Just a project…” Raul repeated this mantra to himself that night until he fell asleep.

The following morning, Lily waltzed up to her teacher’s desk with the best smile her fatigued state could muster, propaganda in hand ready to hand in.

“Here you are, Mrs. K.”

“Oh, no sweetie. You’re going to be presenting them.” Her eyes flicked away from the digital attendance sheet on her computer screen and to the young woman. Lily notes that her eyes never even glanced over her work, meaning other students must have had the same idea of turning it in.

“Oh…everybody?” Her smile begins faltering. The teacher hums and sends a small nod, cueing Lily to walk to her desk with crushed expectations. As she sank down into the chair, the sight of a brooding form drenched in black caught her site. She tilted her head to the right, spotting Raul Mendes early and eager in his chair. Had Raul not been adorned in the shirt with burn holes near his collarbone and eight years younger, there was no doubt Lily would be on the edge of her seat beside him, drumming against the wooden desks with their no. 2 pencils in anticipation.

But Lily would say she overall felt a riveting urge in her stomach to make a beeline toward the school clinic and bluff her anxiety with a stomachache. Mrs. K completed attendance as the girl continued to gnaw on her lip.

“Alright, let’s begin!” The instructor announces, reading down the line of various names. Finally, she reached ‘M’ and beckoned Raul up to stand before the rows of desks and share his work. Normally, Raul would prefer his brothers (mostly Peter) to be in the same class as him, in order for time to be stalled even longer for any assignments the oldest might have missed the night previous. Raul, however, lacked a single complaint in his mind as he let his black sneakers steer him to stand in front of his English class with a tantalizing smirk.

“I title this piece: Breaking Tradition.” Silence followed the boy’s introduction due to the overwhelming surprise his peers felt that Raul not only completed his project within the given time limit but did so marvelously. Some lips parted in appalment--Mrs. K’s included—while others gasped. The initial silence was not long-lasting, however, and the proof lied in arbitrary whisper’s floating around the cinderblock building, all discussing Raul’s piece.

But one voice remained silent through the tirade of talk. Her jaw was too busy clenching furiously. Her teeth were grinding together to the point where they might have ground one another to dust but Lily could care less. That was her idea on his paper. That was her design she discussed with Mrs. Basel only a day prior, which was displayed gloriously on Raul Mendes’s paper. Even worse, it looked better than hers did, despite the hours she spent through the night blending and measuring and lettering every word on the damn slogan to perfection.

And the man stood to the front of the class just sat with an accomplished smile and dazzling brown eyes, as if he thought he deserved the credit. Her heart began thrumming in her chest, drowning out some of Raul’s syllables amidst his explanation which Lily was certain mimicked her presentation verbatim. Her fingers curled and twisted against her palms, the nails she would bite everyday subconsciously now digging broken crescents into her skin. Mad was one emotion Lily never found herself yearning to express—unlike Raul, who found no trouble allowing his to show a swelling bruise against Connor’s cheek—but this anger surging through her veins and rampant pulse appearing at her temples in seconds felt multiplied. The girl was furious.

As her sight of Raul began to become tainted with red, she detected Raul’s eyes in one, continuous spot. They remained on Isabella’s seat for the duration of his speech, though his target was not trying her hardest to reciprocate. From Lily’s seat, one could see the artificial light graze the girl’s profile like a brushstroke. Her jawline was slim and sharp, yet her lips portrayed a soft, childlike pout as she gazed adoringly down at her recently manicured set, coated in only the most overelaborate-named polishes, like “Harp Seal Silver Fur” or “Black Kyoto Pearl”. If it was not her nails, it was the new string of text messages her and Connor were participating in more often than class discussions if the teacher was too enthralled by the symbolism Orwell disguises so carefully, or how the human brain makes up an entire two percent of your body weight.

Unfortunately for Lily, she was also seated beside Isabella in their anatomy course, very much against her will.

“Brilliant job.” Mrs. K mutters to Raul upon him handing her his work. He returns the compliment with a taller smirk than he was holding before as if he was not staring into the woman responsible for questioning his attendance only two days prior. His eyes flickered back to Isabella and remained on her throughout his journey back into his desk seat, absorbing her from every angle, and allowing his footsteps to slow in their stride.

“Lily?” Her head snapped away from the spot Raul was just occupying, to Mrs. K, heartbeat rattling her ribcage like a xylophone out of tune.

“Huh?”

“It’s your turn…” The teacher informs.

“Oh…uh…” Her cheeks were aflame but thankful for her shoulder-length hair to curtain them as she tilted her head down to the open binder. Her work glared back at her, yearning so badly to be picked up and bragged about, but how was she to repeat the last five minutes of class in a different body and less adequate art piece, and not expect consequences. Judging by Raul’s unbridled confidence, Lily doubts he would come clean about his plagiarism. Even worse, he would not hesitate to manipulate the situation to fixate the blame on Lily, instead. It was not hard to do with the golden honey encapsulated in his irises and pair of choppers he has since been exchanging for a fine smirk. The point is that, though she had an honest reputation, so did Raul Mendes—for the most part. And who was she to allow that to possibly deteriorate within a matter of minutes over a school assignment?

It would be the mature thing to do, sure. But this was high school, and an eighteen your old Raul Mendes has made it clear that playing dirty in order to appease this newly constructed figure of his was less than bothersome.

“I guess…I-I forgot.” Lily murmurs quietly from her desk, closing her binder to remove the work from her sight. “Sorry, Mrs. K.” There was a tingling sensation against her right cheek from Raul’s speculating pair, but the feeling faded from her profile seconds after Isabella’s presence was invited to the front of the class by the instructor.

She would find a way to avenge the assignment soon. Little did her privy classmate know that Lily Mirray could play dirty when fate beckons for it. And fate’s call was Isabella standing up from her seat and strutting towards the whiteboard, skirt swishing in each step.

Raul’s fascinated stare remained on Isabella’s form throughout her entire presentation.

And so did Lily’s.

TAGLIST; @fanficshawn @lonelyreputation @shawnmendez @fan-of-many-bands

#shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes au #mendes triplet au #mendes triplets #raul mendes #peter mendes

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chatoyism · 4 years

Text

The Hellevator ; 零

➺ summary: you awaken in an uncomfortably small and tight room, covered in blood and unsure of where exactly you are. you realise what youve been put into upon the voice of an unknown individual laughing at your frailty. youve joined a death game, currently riding an elevator that rapidly travels up, with your only way to freedom and safe living to escape through each level

➺ series: the hellevator ; stray kids fan fiction series

➺ type: interactive fan fiction ; reader participation

➺ genre: mystery, horror, thriller, detective

➺ chapter: prologue

➺ word count: 1,2k

➺ warnings: swearing/curse words present. graphic descriptions of gore, body parts, mental health, sickness and claustrophobia. if you can not handle the listed components well, please immediately disregard reading this story

➺ notes: an old fanfiction that i actually never finished upon writing the first chapter! i wonder if ill ever continue this series????

まぁ、結局人生はずっとそうだったかも。

辛いけど、自分でそういう生きてるのを習わなきゃね。

You can’t remember anything.

It was all black.

Your mind was foggy, empty, cleared,

There was nothing.

Everything around you was dark, plain and filled with nothingness.

You couldn’t remember a single thing, everything in the world was gone from your head except your own name.

Y/N, it was.

But now it was all gone.

Everything… Missing.

But why did you feel like you were placed in this emptiness for a reason? A purpose? Will you find your way out of it?

Will you ever get out of this madness?

Nothing else could be heard around you except the clanking noises of metal against metal, working machinery coming in contact with each other as you felt your whole world shake underneath your lying body. It resulted in loud ringings in your ears, that indescribable sound that seemed to ring on forever and ever without an end.

You had no idea where you were. You had no idea who you were.

It was just your weak body, laying flat on a cold mesh surface with eyes shut, pain flooding through your body and nothing but the accompanying noise to wake you up from your strange and everlasting deep sleep.

In a flash, your eyes shot wide open, blood shooting through your body as your brain starting powering, the network of nerves in your body sending you into shock which resulted in you sitting upright almost immediately.

You had never recognized this place. You have never seen it before in your entire life. You knew this place wasn’t familiar, but something about it screamed “seen before” in your head.

Your head turned to all different directions, looking beside you at the four walls which formed a square shaped room, illuminated by a small faint yellow lamp that swung from side to side above your head. One of the walls in particular had caught your eye, two set of metal clamps jammed shut together which almost looked like doors of some sort.

The place was giving you nightmares once your head turned to the writings on the wall which you had never noticed until you paid attention to it. Written in red ink, the color of blood almost, was the words “death”, “sins” and “demons” in bold lettering, painting the three walls aside from the wall with the door.

It wasn’t to your liking, the room you woke up in began to feel darker and darker once you noticed gruesome things appearing around you. Bloody handprints were painted near the door, red seeping from above the cracks of the little room as it ran down the side, dripping slowly.

In one corner of the space you had, you were almost about to throw up when you saw what looked like cut up intestines and organs stashed into the corner like a pile of rubbish. Those organs alone gave the most disgusting smell you’d ever smelt before after realising they look fresh and still had some red blood on them as well.

Still in your weak state, you picked yourself up, pushing yourself onto your feet with your dirtied hands as you stood up, realising your clothes you wore were ripped, all in black and had some stains in them. They didn’t seemed to be washed at all, much of the stench lingering around your nose.

“Where the fucking hell am I…” You murmured, letting out a loud groan of pain when you felt your left leg jolt in shock, making you grab your balance on the railings of the wall and stumbling over.

“What is this place…” You wondered, looking around you further after you noticed the flash of red light shining into your eyes.

Before you could answer more questions, the room you were in had suddenly dropped, your feet lifting off the ground for a split second when the red flashing light came to a stop. Trying to comprehend the situation and on the verge of eliminating all your stomach contents, you looked above the door and noticed a set of words appearing on this strip of machinery, flashing brightly in your eyes.

“You’ve awoken.” A voice boomed through an unknown source. It made you jump in shock as you shuffled to your feet and look at the words on the strip which had spelt exactly what the unknown voice had said.

“Weak, tired, pathetic peasant.” The voice, almost as deep as a male’s snickered, addressing those words towards you.

“Where the hell am I…” You answered back, snapping at the voice as you tried to seek for the source of the sound.

“That information is not for your knowledge. You should only learn what is important, Kim Y/N.”

“How do you know my name… Who are you!?” You yelled, veins popping from your neck as you yelled at the voice booming at you. You were angry, but terrified at the same time.

This person was speaking to you, messing with your head as you tried to look for them, knowing your name, calling you pathetic and a fool and yet you still had no idea who they were, who you were and where you were.

“That, Kim Y/N is for you to find out for yourself. You’re not put in here for no reason.”

You felt yourself stumble from side to side, getting harder to keep yourself up straight and on your feet when you felt your nausea kick in, leaning over a railing and finally getting rid of your stomach contents from inside onto the floor beside your feet.

It kept on going, the sick feeling inside you eating its way out as all you could do was throw up everything you had onto the floor and be left with it there with the smell of blood, fresh organs and other components mixed in with it.

It was gruesome, stuffed into a compact space with nothing but yourself, a faint yellow light from the ceiling, disassembled body parts and a voice talking to you that was making you insanely crazy.

It wasn’t long before your vomit stopped pouring out of you, brushing away your saliva off the corner of your lips as you breathed heavily, a flood of thoughts rushing through you head by the minute as nothing but the sound of hard metal and the moving room filled up the little space.

“Get me out of here… Get me out…” You could only spurt out in short breaths, on the verge of collapsing to the floor again when the voice boomed and the small box above the door began spelling words in red LED lights.

“You were put in here for a reason, Kim Y/N. There is only one way out of this place but it won’t be easy for a fool like you…”

“Just get me out, dammit!”

“With the result of a price. If you want to get out of this place, then you must obey the rules to get what you want, but it pays a lot of your fortune.”

“All I want is to get out of here, I want to leave this place, stop torturing me…” You let out desperately, dropping onto the floor and collapsing onto your side, leaning your head against the blood coated mesh floor.

“Then your command will be granted if you wish to accept the rules of your escape route. As said, Kim Y/N…”

“It’s not easy.”

You thought about it for a few moments, the time ticking inside your head. To be precise, you had no idea what time it was as well. How long did a second last? Was there time in the first place? It all was gone and all you could think of in that small moment was your escape, an exit, your road to freedom to get out of that hell you were in.

“If it’s going to get me out of this freaking hell, then I’ll do it, I’ll do it if it means I get out of here alive…”

With that sentence said, you heard the voice chuckle, a short laugh blasting into the small room.

“A very wise choice.” They said in approval. “As you have now granted your wish, you shall begin your escape. It all starts with the push of a button, Kim Y/N.”

You were wondering what they were suggesting, but you didn’t care the littlest bit. Nothing mattered to you more then than to escape out of that place and to leave unharmed, to get out of there and wish it never started ever again.

Before you knew it, a new source of light shone in the corner of your eyes from the faint light, a flashing bulb of red illuminated beside the two metal doors.

It was that very moment in time, you finally realized where you were, what you were doing and what your whole purpose was. You recognized that beam of red light somewhere before, you knew where it came from, but you didn’t think you’d find yourself stuck inside one playing a death game.

The new light that had illuminated was the words, “Level 1” in red and a small button beside it. You had never noticed it before, but underneath that button, was yet another 9 set of buttons with their own level running down underneath each other. Above was the Level 1 one button was the word, “HELL” in all bold letters.

A new memory was regained in your mind, everything was slowly being pieced back together again as you picked yourself onto your feet and stumbled to the button step by step. You had no other choice. It was now or never. Live or die. That button was your only escape route if you wanted to get out of there.

You were stuck in an elevator, you knew it, and it was just you, the button and the metal door now. Without hesitation, you took in a deep breath to recollect your thoughts, closing your eyes for a moment before your finger was in contact with the button.

With a faint beep, the button turned a brighter red as you felt the ground beneath you sink, dropping a few heights before stopping at what you believed to be, “Level 1”.

“You signed a death wish, Kim Y/N. Remember what you have been put in here for. Your only challenge here is to simply survive.”

“Welcome, to the Hellevator.”

Without waiting, the metal door in front of you opened wide, greeting you with a room of pitch black and darkness as you took a step out the elevator. It wasn’t long before your journey would start, and you’d find yourself beginning your escape out.

PART TWO YET TO BE WRITTEN. IF YOU WOULD LIKE MORE FROM THIS SERIES, DO COMMENT SO THEN I KNOW TO CONTINUE THIS!

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doubleshotofsomething · 4 years

Text

Needy

[This is my submission for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan ‘s Little Darlin’s Mystery AU challenge. This is a three part soulmate au inspired by the song “Needy” by Ariana Grande, the prologue and epilogue do not count as part one/three.]

The person you’re supposed to be with, isn’t always the one you’re meant to be with.

Summary: You can’t fight fate and expect the battle to be fair.

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Wanda x Bucky

Warnings: anst (ANGST), abuse (im so sorry), panic attack mentions, mental disorder references, attempted murder (for like 5 seconds tho), absolutely no fluff (if it looks like fluff then it’s a lie). Please be warned, im bad at warnings but this may be a triggering chapter so proceed with caution.

Prompts: soulmate au. song prompt

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Prologue Part One Part Two

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Part Three: [ How you even think it got this far?]

"What-- the fuck did you do?"

You blink at him, eyes wide with anticipation as you watch him assess the situation.

The party was still going on somewhere in the tower. It was fun, for the first hour. Then it got boring, so you found Sam, a bottle of whiskey, and ditched to the residential floor.

Sam is next to you, expression matching yours as you both feign innocence – you more than him.

"This is—" Nat pauses, walking further into the room and stopping just a few feet to your right. "—this is actually cute."

"Thank you," the words slip out of your mouth far too quick for your control. Your eyes widen at your admission and you squeak as Sam jabs at your side with his elbow. "ouw!"

You glare at him and he glares back, head nodding to a slowly angering Bucky.

"You—" Bucky grits his teeth, picking up one of the swans you had made with the dress, "—you ruined it."

"We improved it." Sam chimes in, earning a pitiful elbow from you.

The swans were terrible. The internet wasn't as helpful as you had thought it would be and making a swan out of cloth was surprisingly harder than you thought it be too. Especially when you do it after Sam found Thor's secret stash of Asgardian mead.

"Twas actually harder than you'd think," You find yourself adding, "google isn't that user friendly."

"—and the instructions were in hieroglyphs." Sam nods, facing scrunching up in confusion and then he turns to look at you. "You speak hieroglyphs?"

You shake your head at that. "I think it was Korean—"

"—it couldn't have been."

"How would you know? You don't even speak it hieroglyphs—"

"Widow probably speaks it—"

"She could have translationed it for us! Why didn't we think of that!"

Nat blinks at you both, eyebrows furrowing as her eyes land on a flask next to one of the swans. "Oh."

Bucky is shaking, the sound of metal plates shifting echoes in the room as his eyes land on the beads scattered on the table. He looks back at the remnants of the dress in his hands, and he can't find it in himself to calm down. Not when he knows what this dress means, not when you know what it means to him.

"Steve made us do it." You say, smiling innocently at him.

Sam shrugs. "Yeah, definitely."

"It was a pretty shit dress—" Nat adds, nodding her head as she picks up a swan. "This is justice."

"Also, it's bad luck to see the—" You pause, hiccup, and frown as the word escapes you, "—female groom?"

You look to Sam for assistance and pout, he shrugs. "Don't look at me, I wanted to make ducks."

"Yeah, but ducks are difficult to make—" You pause, "—my battery is still at 40%, I know where the suits are."

He grins, wide and devilishly. "I'll look for the other flasks."

You don't get to make ducks or get the suits. You end up hanging over Bucky's left shoulder as he barrels his way down to the parking lot, stomach churning from your position and completely uncomfortable.

"At least let Steve mandle me, he’s nicer." you try to push yourself up, hands pressing into his back as you try to find some comfort.

Steve chuckles as he watches you pout from in front of him. In his hands are the keys to Sam's car and your purse, along with your coat and gloves.

"Manhandle is the word you're looking for, doll." Steve says, unlocking the car and opening the back door.

Bucky places you inside, surprisingly gentle, as compared to his brutish behaviour, and practically growls at you when you try to wiggle away from him.

"Sit. Still." His words come out through gritted teeth as he clips your seatbelt in place. "Don't even think about it."

You move your hands away from the seat belt clip slowly and feign innocence. "Can I at least say bye to Cap?"

The door slams shut before you even finish your sentence, but you still yell out a goodbye anyway while Bucky yanks open the driver's side door.

He gets in gracefully, throws your stuff onto the passenger seat roughly, and speeds out of the Tower's underground parking before the doors even fully open.

He's quiet the entire drive to your place, tense and stiff in his seat. You're fidgeting in your seat behind him – poking at the back of his neck and trying to get him to open a window— completely unremorseful.

It baffles him, the lengths you're willing to go to get your point across. The damage you're willing to do. It completely blows his mind, the things you're capable of doing – just to get what you want.

He tells you that, as he carries you up to your apartment. Continues to tell you that, as you retch into the toilet and then helps you change into your pyjamas. Doesn't even stutter as he goes on while making you finish up the coffee he made.

You glare at him and his control falters, frowns at that uncanny familiar sensation gripping at the base of his skull.

"—it's not like she was gonna wear it, anyway." You mutter, taking a gulp of the coffee, "you can't marry her now."

"Wha—" his voice cracking cuts him short, a shiver races through him as he tries to blink.

You're sitting on the counter, trapped between both of his arms on either side of you, and he breaks eye contact to look down at the cup in your hand.

"She knows that we're mates," you continue, completely oblivious. "She's great, I like her, honestly. But she can't fight fate, or nature. It would've made cents—scents—" you frown, and glare at the crown of Bucky's head, as if you'll find the word you're looking for there. "—whatever. It doesn't matter. Neither does this wedding, because— come on, let's be honest. No one wants to be with our kind, it’s too risky. We are the defamation of— deformation— what?"

He should find this cute. He usually does. But he can't, not now, not when he can feel the sweat pooling at the back of his shirt. Not when that prickling feeling is clawing up his spin, that trickle of fear – foreign and yet familiar – why was it so familiar?

"Stop—" he rasps, pushing himself away from you, putting as much distance between the both of you as possible.

You frown, setting the cup down and slide of the counter. "Buck—" your knees knock when you land on your feet, and you have to grab onto the counter to keep you from falling. "—Bucky?"

"Stop." His hands are in his hair, gripping furiously as he shut his eyes. "No."

He has done this before, deflecting from the topic at hand, changing it in a way that made you not want to touch it.

Coffee mugs crushed in his hands. I'll talk to her, don't worry about it.

Fists slammed into dinner tables. For fuck's sakes, I said I'll do it, it's been a really stressful weak as it is.

Doors banged off their hinges. Wanda is not some mate-stealing monster, damnit! I won't have you shit-talking her like this.

Broken plates scattered on the floor, while on their way to the kitchen. Are you fu— doll, please, I didn't come here to fight. Okay? Let's just... not, right now.

You had listened, each time, because he was there with you and not with her. You let him deflect every time, because he needed that from you, and you could never deny him – not that you'd try. You had listened and, in turn, the wedding wasn't called off.

You were done listening.

"You can't walk away every time I bring this up, Buck—" you follow him into the living room, "—I'm not some groupie you can't shake. I'm your soulmate, and you're gonna have to face that fact sooner, rather than later."

"Just—" he breathes out, "—stop talking, for once."

"You can't seriously be mad at me, right now—"

You need to stop.

"I'm not wrong for wanting us to be together, and you know that." You point out, frowning as the chair he’s leaning against begins to crack under his grip. "—okay, fine. We can change the topic, if it's that upsetting!"

He really needs you to stop.

There's a tug at your chest, faint but strong enough to make you look down in confusion, before you realise it's the matebond.

Except, the pull feels different this time. It's an uncomfortable sting, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth, and you frown. It has never felt like this, not even when you had first found Bucky, never this... this... alarming?

You look up at your mate and you think that's why. You think it's because he's distressed, that this is serious, that it's another one of his attacks.

So, you go to him, because you need to. Because the feeling won't relent. Because it's in your nature to be what he needs you to be.

The stinging seems to worsen the closer you get, furious as it spikes an increase in your heart rate, and you hate yourself for a second – knowing that you've caused this. This is happening because you went on a rampage and ruined Wanda's wedding dress.

She liked that dress. You know that because he told you. Because it was bought on the same day that you had met Bucky. Because he couldn't stomach the thought of her never being able to wear it for their wedding, once it's called off...

And you decided to turn into swans.

His hand is on you, around your throat, backing you into a wall as it squeezes.

It takes a couple of seconds for you to register, to realise what is happening. And, for some reason, all you can think about was how it was the first time he used his hand – his actual hand – to touch you.

And, suddenly, you prefer the left hand.

It's too late.

By the time he comes to, you're already on the floor.

You're unconscious, your cheeks are wet and your neck is bruising.

He's standing over you, confused. He calls your name, shakes you, but you don't wake.

There's a pulse, he checked, and you're breathing, he double-checked.

He can still feel you, so he tells himself that that's a good sign as he carries you to bed. He sets a bottle of water on your nightstand, charges your phone for you, and scribbles down a note.

Call me when you wake up.

He can't seem to start the car, or remember why you ended up on the floor, so he calls Steve.

He doesn't tell him what happened over the phone, but he does when he arrives. He tells him what he can remember, about the yelling and then putting you to bed and that blank gap between the two.

Shit, Buck. Steve swears, so he knows it's bad.

You're going to hate him in the morning, he knows this, but why isn't he feeling the bond pull him to you. To fix this.

That's what it usually does, doesn't it?

That's why he always came back after every fight, isn't it?

There would be the fighting and arguing and the breaking of things. You would kick him out and ignore him. He would feel bad and make up for it, he had to – he always had to. He could never fight that feeling.

Why wasn't it there, now?

Wanda was there when you woke.

Bruce was there, too. Checking you, helping you, telling you what to do and what not to do.

You're all quiet, except for Bruce as he speaks only when necessary. She's in the background, leaning against your dresser, while you try to go about your morning routine in the afternoon.

Bruce called your work and put in a sick leave for you, had Dr Cho sign a sick note for you. He even scheduled an appointment with Cho for you, a proper scan once you can get out of bed.

You blame the mead, how could you not? It had to be it, because there is no way, in heaven or hell, that Bucky could...

Bruce only stays for as long as he needs too. He's a match, the thread match, and he can't stay away from Nat for too long. So, he leaves… she doesn't.

It's awkward, as expected, and ugly and anxiety inducing.

You ruined her wedding dress, cut it into pieces and turned it into a plaything for you and Sam. You remember that part because you did it while you weren't completely shitfaced.

She's marrying the man that you want, the man that's supposed to be yours, and it would be easy to get you out of the picture – get rid of you so you wouldn't put Bucky through this anymore. But she doesn't, because she understands.

She understands because you don't know.

You don't know what they did to him, what they had to do to get him to be the soldier they wanted. You don't know what he went through, what they put him through when he resisted.

And he could never tell you that. Because it's not your fault that they used your bond to turn him into a monster. It's not your fault that they turned the only good thing he had, the one thing that was his, into a weapon. He couldn't tell you that...

"He's in Wakanda." Wanda says softly, eyes locking on yours as you both watch each other from opposite ends of the room. "Bucky."

You want to ask why, she can tell, so she explains.

"When he was put under, again, we thought—" she swallows, rubbing circles in her chest to ease the knot, "—we thought that he could be..."

You give a slight nod of understanding, adjusting the continental pillow behind you back.

You knew what Hydra had done to him, what they had turned him into. Anyone who was anyone knew.

"So," she sighs, "when he came back to the team, we all thought he was okay. I thought he was okay, I mean—I checked to make sure he was okay... But... we know, now that he wasn't. I didn't think it could happen, especially not now. I mean—"

She pauses and looks at you. You can see the struggle on her face, the hesitance to continue, and you frown.

Wanda found out about you on the same day that Bucky did. He told her immediately, over the phone, didn't even wait until she got back to the compound.

He said it didn't change anything, that your presence didn't change anything, but she knew. She knew it did.

He couldn't balance between her and a mate, she didn't want him to. So, he decided to introduce you to each other.

She liked you instantly, how could she not? You were exactly what she expected Bucky's mate to be, and more. But he didn't care.

She wanted to call things off, but he wouldn't listen to reason. She wanted him to understand, to know that she wouldn't hate him if he didn't choose her. Because she knew better; fate had chosen, and it wasn't her.

It's my choice, he persisted. And I love you. She'll just have to understand, because I'm not leaving you.

You were fate's choice for him.

But he had had enough of people choosing for him; the army, hydra, the UN, and now, you?

No one knows what's best for me, except for me. We're getting married and that's final.

He wouldn't back down and she couldn't fight him. She loved him more than she could ever understand, who was she to choose for him?

"Hydra did things, things that shouldn't be possible," she continues, her voice steadier than she expected. "Once they had their hands on the tesseract, they did things to him that — I don't think we can fix…"

You can feel him, sort of... it's barely there, the bond, but you can still feel him.

She folds her arms across her chest. "Whatever you said last night, whatever it is you did— it triggered him back."

You blink. Once. Twice. Then, all at once, it sinks in and your stomach tightens.

"What?" Is your reaction, whispered and you can barely register the voice as yours.

"They're gonna try and reverse it, like before—" Wanda rushes the words out, but it's too late. Her previous words are already sitting on your chest and you're finding it hard to breathe. "—they've done it once; they can do it again—"

The realisation hits you, hard, and you have to force yourself to breathe.

Because now you understand why, you know why the link had felt that way – why the ache intensified as you got closer to him.

"I threw the bond in his face," your voice cracks and your throat aches as you speak. "I told him that— oh."

It was warning you, the bond, and you ignored it. It was feeling threatened, and you ignored it.

How could you be so selfish?

Wanda is sitting in front of you before you can even blink, trying to calm you down, begging you to calm down, to breathe...

Damn it, why couldn't you breathe?

"I can never have him, can I?" You're gasping, practically wheezing, and your nails dig into Wanda's arm.

The pain is there, she feels it, but she's too busy worrying about your escalating heart rate to focus on it. "Y/N, please, breathe—"

You're shaking your head, frantic and harder than your headache can handle. "What did I do— what did I do— what did I do—"

"Hey—hey— hey, look at me!"

"I ignored it—" your chest hurts and you don't understand why, "—it was, it was here—" you let go of her arm to pat your chest, "—right here, it was here. The bond. I could feel it. And he was begging me to stop and trying to leave, but I didn't listen— Wanda, I didn't listen—"

Wanda doesn't know what to do, not even Bucky had gotten this bad before. This was new territory for her.

You were too far gone to listen to anything she was saying, and she was too busy panicking to know what to do. How does she fix this?

"I need you to calm down, please— oh my god!"

"Why wouldn't I listen? I just wanted him to— you know? I just wanted him to choose me—"

"Y/N! Y/N! Please, I need you to—"

"Because I didn't— I just wanted to have him. And now— I broke it. It's broken. I broke it, Wanda. I broke it—how could I— he needed me to just— and I broke it—"

"Sam— help me! I don't know what's happening— she won't stop— "

It was unchartered territory.

Reversing the trigger through the matebond wasn't possible, especially when the stones had been returned to their timelines.

The only option they had, that Shuri could provide, was completely erasing every single one of his memories. Every, last, one.

Clean slate. No Wanda, or Steve, or you.

You would still remember though, everyone will. So, there really wasn't a point.

You told Wanda – days later, when you were well enough to leave for your appointment with Dr Cho and found her there – it wouldn't be necessary.

"He doesn't have to go under," you said, fidgeting with hem of the hospital. "I'll stop... I'll stop everything."

She shook her head, ready to protest. "You don't have to do any of that, I'm not going to marr—"

"Please do." You stopped her, shaking your head. You'd done enough damage as it is. "He chose you. He's fought me at every turn because he wants you. I'm not—"

Why was it so easy to say all this?

"I'll still be there, when he needs me— for whatever it is, but only for that. He's yours," he doesn't want me anyway, "We're mates, not matches, we don't have to be together for this to work—"

"You don't know what you're saying—"

"The world has taken enough from you— I've taken enough from you, Wanda. Let me give you this, at least."

You could live without him. You've done it before.

How hard could it be?

Tagging: @sourpatchkidsandacokecan , @decadentsoulbiscuitgoth [sorry i took so long, won’t happen again :) xx]

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