#there was a point she though Ruby was low key dead and that was so sad to read | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anaiswriterr · 3 years

Text

The Dragon Kings Queen

Pairing: Dragon King!Bakugou x Queen!Reader

Rating: M

Warning: This is part four, I’d like to point out be aware: 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝗼𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝗺𝐞𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐠𝗼𝐫𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐭𝐜. Please don’t read if you are not comfortable with it, and if you’re under the age of 18+ I will give a warning when it becomes NSFW but at the moment it’s SFW.

Synopsis: ➪ When the word marriage crossed your mind, you believed you’d marry someone you loved. Not this brute of a King. So here you are standing at the end on an alter, pushing away the urge to run and fight. Possibly start a new life, instead of being dragged into a loveless marriage. But for the sake of your people.. They say he’s not what rumors make him out to be, but how can you believe that when his eyes burn into yours; just as fiery as before. How could you, ever love someone as barbaric as him…

- chapter four: gifted dagger -

•

You clutch hard onto an old bladed dagger, it digs into your palm and slices a long line against the soft skin. Droplets of blood pools onto the gravel below you, heaving you throw the weapon into a tree bark. You groan out in frustration when it doesn't latch onto the wood, "I can't do this!"

"Don't say that, it's your first day. Try again," Kirishima urges, bending down to grab the dagger off the ground, handing it back to you placing the blade down into your palm; you seethe in pain. Swallowing down the yelp that threatened to escape passed your lips, Kirishima notices your stained palms before snatching the dagger back from your grasp.

"We'll pick this back up later, don't want you getting an infection."

Perhaps he was right, the blade was only slightly rusted - it's been over an hour with the blade constantly digging into your skin; if you didn't cover it up soon then an infection was possible. You shrug, "An infection compared to getting eaten by a bear, or an ogre is nothing in my eyes; so don't worry about me. We can continue," You reach out to grab the dagger out from his hands, but he hides the blade into his holster. Nodding his head side to side, "No can do, my job is to make sure you are safe 24/7 and if that means making you go to the infirmary then so be it."

You arch a brow wiping away the sweat beads off your forehead from the hot dewy morning, "Is that a request?"

"Your Highness, will all due respect, it's an order."

"Fine, but I quite frankly would like to survive so if we could continue this on later-"

"Of course," he smiles, "Now, go fix your hand. I was told Bakugou would like to speak to you-"

"That will not be necessary since I will not be speaking to him." You pour a cup of water over your palm, attempting to clean off the dirt. After yesterday's events you have vowed to not utter a single word to him, he's clearly a hard head who never had anyone stand up to him. As his "wife" what better then to punish his actions then using the silent treatment towards the temperamental brat. Kirishima scratches the back of his head sheepishly, fiddling with his weapon. "Well you know Your Highness-"

"Y/N will do just fine. Please no formalities between us two."

"Right. Um well, you know. Bakugou is a hard kinda guy to work with, it was hard for even I to get to be as close as I am with him. He hates silence, he might ask for it. But radio silence might not be the best answer between the two of you.. considering you two are on thin ice right now."

You arch a brow in question, wiping the sheen layer of sweat off your brow bone. "What do I do then, Kirishima. How do I win over a beast who doesn't attempt at all?"

***

To say you utterly hated Katsuki Bakugou was an understatement.

For one night he managed to put on a mask that nearly caught you in a rope of curiosity for the man - maybe he was just misunderstood. Like hell, his mother had the same fighting and burning spirit one of a dragon meanwhile his father was more calm, well rounded, wise like a dragon. So why was Bakugou the mean one of the bunch.

'You can't fix everyone, Y/N.'

Well that sentence surely did not age well, you wince as the healer places an alcohol soaked cotton ball onto your wound. Biting your lip back in pain it takes up all your strength to not pull back and away from the old man.

"I'll be right back, my Queen it seems like you may need some herbs from the garden and recently I've run out. Don't worry it'll only take me five minutes." The healer reassures you, you nod in return pressing the cotton ball into the cut, cleaning the area in the meantime.

"That's alright, take your time." You smile.

The stinging pain slowly subsided when you finally became accustomed to the clear liquid, to handle a dagger will be much harder now. You are determined to prevail, just a small bump in the road nothing quite serious. A knock on the infirmaries white door retracts you from your thoughts, eyes wondering towards the window that overviewed the garden shows it's not the healer.

"Come in."

Short blonde hair with ruby red eyes strut in, Mitsuki, your mother in law smiles down at you. "Hello dear, I heard you were in here.. I wanted to speak to you. Are you okay?"

You can feel your heart nearly drop, your mother in law was as sweet as a ripe strawberry in season but the aura she carried screamed and resembled Katsuki. You nod, greeting her with a formal cheek kiss, "Oh I'm fine just a tiny cut is all. What would be the problem?" You wave off her worry.

"Oh no dear, there is no problem. I'm glad it's just a cut, I was worried it was far worse. I just wanted to spend time with my daughter in law - I wanted you to know that though this may be a hard time, I went through this. You will be just fine. I also... heard your and Katsuki's fight last night.. I didn't mean to intrude I was just on the way to find Melody when I stumbled upon you two, how are you feeling?"

Oh dear. She knew, did anyone else know? Of course people know the two of you were practically testing who can yell the loudest - this is embarrassing. He really did manage to get a rise from you.

You stare down at your palm, this was the first time anyone here has actually asked whether or not you were fine.

"I-I'm okay, he's just hard to get to."

The bed of the infirmary dips slightly beside you as Mitsuki's takes a seat beside you, "Yes, he can be a handful most days. Katsuki doesn't exactly know how to be... nice? It's probably my fault, I was constantly pushing him as a child. You know, he turned out to be a fine warrior; a fine commander." You nod listening to his mother, "I guess the two of you are no longer on speaking terms. I get it, I moved from a neighboring kingdom to here. It was hard to get his father to open up," Mitsuki sighs.

"But the two of you fell in love."

"You are very right, but like all love. It took time."

A silence falls between the two of you, she was the only person who you could remotely relate to right about now. She was the only one who could even fathom how scared you are, you were served with a silver platter all your life nearly always spoon fed and suddenly thrown into a tribe you knew nothing about. "How did you do it?"

Mitsuki arches a brow, "What do you mean?"

"H-How do I survive in that forest? What do I have to expect even after? How did you do it?"

The former queen sighs, eyeing your injury. "Well, from my kingdom we had similar principles I already had the basic knowledge of outdoor survival. To keep it short," She grabs your free hand in comfort. "I'm sure they haven't bothered telling you the objectives, the point system.. the tribal ceremony for those who make it out of alive. You must come out with a Goblin heart, no exceptions. Afterwards believe it or not you are placed on a pedestal at midnight the day you arrive back where you must eat the entire muscle, uncooked. The blood is told it'll bring great fortune and fertility. The process.. was nevertheless grueling I felt like a caged animal with all the drums and cheering. Y/N you must not, and I repeat my not throw up during the feasting."

You nod intently, stomach curling at the thought of a eat raw heart. But tribal traditions and regulations must be met, your heart pounded. It seemed like no matter where you turned there was always a set back, a catch. You survive the forest and now you must feast in front of the entire kingdom?

"Stay high, on top of the trees are the best option. Don't make a fire at night - I know, it'll be tempting. It'll grow cold as night falls, but the most dangerous creatures come out then and are attracted to light. You'll be dead before you even know it." Mitsuki lectures with a stern gaze, tightening her grip around the palm of your uninjured hand. "Find running water, a stream, lake, river. Whatever, it's freshwater. You'll catch your fish there, berries and nuts are also located near there. If you'd like to start a fire I suggest start when the sun rises, the creatures of the forest will retreat since they are nocturnal."

You store this information into your head, such valuable keys of survival. You are determined to return breathing, to return alive.

"Goblins are tricksters - never trust a single word that utters from their mouths. It's poisonous. They are most active during the day, but during sunlight stay low and stay quiet, follow the wind and it'll guide you. That is all I can say, I wish I could say more. Personally, I attempted to change this law for years. It never seemed fair, I pray I see you again Y/N."

"Thank you. I hope to see you as well." You smile sadly at the blonde woman who carried a guilty expression, her hands finally let go of your free one. "I'm terribly sorry, Y/N. I have one last thing to gift you, It's not much. Katsuki was supposed to give it to you this morning but it appears the outskirts have called upon him once again." Mitsuki reaches out for a golden box to the left of her, the velvet embroiled box calls your attention.

"It's said to be a gift from the gods. The gods who birthed dragons, carried down by generations. All Dragon Queens have used this, a sacred weapon to help kill the beast and restore balance; Katsuki has made the executive decision that you get to receive this gift." Mitsuki's hand fiddles with the locks of the box, the top lid opens with a flick of her fingers.

A blade, shines in the light.

Cleaned and sharp, the Queen's dagger passed down from hundreds of years worth of battles.

Is gifted.. to you, by the king.

"I-I can not accept this. This gift, I do not deserve this. It's sacred-" You babble, waving your hands you gently push away the box bestowed to you between the spot that separated the both of you. Two queens of the Dragon Kingdom. "You can, and you will. I was gifted this dagger two months after both I and Masaru's wedding. Katsuki wanted you to have this sacred weapon now. He has chosen you, please take it."

You nod in response, hands trembling as you reach out for the velvet box. The handle of the dagger stings in your possession, the bleeding in your right hand has finally stopped when you hold the blade with two hands. It was much more easier to carry, sharper, and even thinner - as light as a feather, fit for a Queen, fit for battle. It was your husband who bestowed this gift to you, "When you are out there, Y/N. Remember.. to fight like a dragon."

"And how must I manage to fight like a dragon? I don't even know how to throw a dagger properly - at a still object, may I add." You show her the deep cut in need of stiches on your palm, "Dragons, my dear, always find a way to win."

***

Your palm is tightly wrapped with herbs to protect the freshly new stitches, meeting Kirishima in the backwoods where training took place. You managed to learn how to build a fire, a makeshift knife if your original weapon were to ever be kicked away from you, how to catch a fish and how to determine which berries were poisonous and which were safe for consumption.

You wince at the feeling of sharp branches scratching against your bare legs, dressed with royal training gear you wondered if you could actually make it to the finish line. You take a bite of a berry, it's tart yet semi sweet flavor cleans your palette of fish. Kirishima watches from the side with a satisfied grin, nightfall was quickly approaching and since this morning you have requested no sort of rest. You drink away at your makeshift cup, the leaf holding only a handful of water you eagerly drink away at.

Kirishima looks up to the darkening sky, hews of purples, pinks, and blues paint the sky as stars begin to appear.

"I should probably get you back to the Palace," He says wiping his hand away from dirt he collected off the tree bark he leaned against - watching your crouched and exhausted figure warm your hands over the mini fire you created. You look up, "I suppose you're right," You reach over to the stream beside you cupping a handful of water and watering down the fire, stomping it out with wet breaches and leaves. Patting it into the ground to stop the embers from continuing to burn.

Kirishima fiddles with his swords and daggers, "You did great today, Y/N." He praises you, proud of how far you've come in just a day. It took him hours to catch a fish when he was just a child, when his parents were alive. You thank him, moving beside him as the two of you walk down the backwoods trail. Only sharing small talk and friendly conversation.

You hum at the story he told of both him and Bakugou, "Well.. how exactly did the two of you meet. You two seem so close to one another, not to mention.. Kirishima you're very loyal to him - his family. What's your story?" There's a visible hitch in his breath, his shoulders tense up as he stumbles upon his words. "I-I'm so sorry! If you don't want to talk-

Kirishima chuckles waving off your worries, "No, nobody has ever asked me. We were just.. brothers. I met him in the mountains, I was just eight years old and back then Dragon hunting use to be a huge problem. Hunters, Poachers - they would all terrorize Dragons who lived peacefully with no mercy murder entire hoards. My parents.. were hunted and killed along with the entire clan and neighboring tribes. I was running, miles away from my home for days. Crying, hungry, thirsty, I was to afraid to fly because they would see me."

You listen intently, nodding along to his words, saddened by his past. Feeling guilty for even asking, he continues.

"Bakugou, can be mean, a brute, barbaric, and even sometimes cruel. But I promise you he has a good heart; so easily he could've turned his back away from me in the mountains. Let the Goblins and Wolves feast on me, instead he took me in. Into the Royal campgrounds, his parents welcomed me in. Cleaned my wounds, gave me a hot meal, warm milk to combat the winter, fresh pair of boots and clothes, even a warm bed to sleep in. Bakugou didn't talk, didn't even introduce himself to me after a few days. However if he didn't take me in then I would've died alone in the cold. And for that I am loyal to them, hell he even let me hold onto his toy for a while." He chuckles.

A silence grows between the both of you, with only snapping branches beneath your boots. Its crunches sooths the silence until he spoke once more.

"I hope you know you're going to be okay, Y/N. I believe in you, and in three days time when you have to walk into that forest; I am convinced I will see you also walk out.

"Thank you Kirishima, I-I'm sorry for what happened to your family."

The redhead waves you off once more smiling to you as the castle gates approach, "It's okay, things happen for a reason. Now go clean up, Melody should have your bath ready. Sleep tight your Highness." He bows gesturing for you enter passed the gates. You press a small kiss to his cheek watching a dark red blush spread throughout his face, "Goodnight Kirishima."

Walking passed him and into the handmaidens arms, Kirishima watches you. A hand pressed hard onto his sizzling red hot cheek that burned out against his palm, smiling sheepishly, gushing over the lingering feeling of ghost lips that once pressed against his cheek. Turning away with his back foot, he hears two pairs of heavy boots stomping against the ground, royal guards heave - catching their breathes.

"What's wrong- where Bakugou?" Kirishima quickly asks eyeing the guards who ran all the way here from the stables in search for him. "Sir Kirishima, King Bakugou has requested your immediate arrival at the outskirts-"

"It's the eggs, sir!" The other interrupts, "The Dragon eggs, the four Gardina left behind."

***

"What's the problem? What happened with the eggs, I thought they were fine."

"Since Gardina's sudden death the eggs need warmth, there's talk from other kingdoms across the seas even, that people are thinking about stealing them, selling them for one million gems on the magical black market." Bakugou grimaces, his arms crossed over his chest. "It seems that we should pay a visit, remind them who we are."

Kirishima nods his head, moving along with his friend passed the campfire where soldiers sat. "What can I do to help?"

Bakugou moves the curtains of his tent, "After you train Y/N, the same day as the games I need you to take the eggs and hide them away as far as possible, I don't care where just away from here. Hide them with the others in the mountains if you'd like - we can not afford them to go missing. Far too dangerous for anyone else." The blond commands, tiredness seeps through his voice as he rubs his eyes to combat the sleep he's been in desperate need for. "I'll give you the green light when to bring them back, I won't return to the Kingdom until the day of the games. Did my mother give Y/N the Royal Dagger?"

Nodding to himself Kirishima smiles, "Yes, she was given it this morning just before noon."

"How did she do?" Katsuki rubs the back of his neck, "Rocky as first, but the girl picks up fast. Will you be here to send her off?" Kirishima tilts his head crossing his arms, "I don't know if she wants me there."

"If you care about her coming back alive, you'll be there." ***

- 3 days later -

The carriage ride is slow, dangerously slow as you remember the long tight hug Melody gave you before your leave at the sunset, Former Queen Mitsuki sits in front of you, her hand clutches onto yours in comfort as you shake in fear in your seat. Kirishima is waiting outside the enchanted forest where it was the most safest - a crowd has formed of simple tribe and clan members outside their homes as they attempt to try and get a glimpse of you; their Queen.

You have yet to meet them, only knowing the castle walls and the workers who served.

You can feel your dagger inside it's brown leather hostler dig into your thigh; but it's fine. It's the only thing keeping you distracted from your pounding heart beat against your chest and the clamminess of your palms. The stitch's finally healed by a magic teller.

You don't even notice the purple hews of the setting sun turning pitch black with only the moon and stars to prove it's light on the passage way; you breath deeply through your nose. Watching how you approached the enchanted forest quicker then you anticipated. Queen Mitsuki and King Masaru insisted you sleep, but you respectfully declined. How were you supposed to sleep when you were being forced into the most dangerous forest known to mankind. They could've just simply pushed you into a hungry Dragon's nest.

The carriage stops and the horses neigh signaling your arrival, a part of you wishes your mother had declined the offer of King Bakugou it would've been nice if he were to even apologize. But since you do not live in a fantasy world, you are reminded this is real life. And you are most certain no prince dressed in armor will come to your rescue and insists he runs off with you. You're stuck here.

You look back nervously at the former king and queen who both bite back their bottom lips, "I will see you in three days time. We both will."

The door to your side of the carriage is thrown open by Kirishima who holds his hand out to grip yours, "M'lady."

Hesitantly you let go of Mitsuki's hand, bidding the two goodbye and latch onto Kirishima's calloused rough ones. Your boots settle into the ground when you let go of his hand, eyes catching a pair of vermillion orbs, ones you haven't seen in three days. His necklaces of teeth he's collected over the years frightens you, will you have a necklace like that one day? "Are you ready, my Queen."

His eyes.

They say nothing at all, just a simple red gleam. He watches you approach the entrance of what seemingly looked like a one way ticket to death, is he going to say anything all? Probably not.

His malicious words still ring clear in your mind, "You wont be a Queen if you're dead."

Death is something you refuse to meet, at least not yet. You turn to face him, he has no emotion and the tears that threaten to spill are wiped away by your wrist. The only people here to witness the games are him, Kirishima, a few men from the counsels parliament, royal soldiers (who you suppose are only here to protect the king and stop you if you decide to run) and both Bakugou's parents who insisted on staying in the carriage. Bakugou's quiet glare is something most would be terrified of, but you refuse to be belittled and underestimated.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" You hear Kirishima ask, your eyes detach from the blonds. Nodding you wipe your clammy hand against the leather hunting skirt you were dressed in. "I'm fine, I'm ready."

You're scared. That's an understatement, "Time starts as soon as you enter, retrieve the Goblin heart and come back here the third day at sunset. If you are not here by then we will assume you have died." A counsel man announces, you hold back the urge to flip him off - he didn't know you. Nor did you know him, to throw your life away as if it were never meaningful to another was plain cruel but there was a thing you refused to do.

Give up.

"I'll see you later Y/N."

'I will not die'

You set out into the forest, without looking back, with the feeling of two vermillion eyes staring into your back.

TAGLIST: @loxbbg @urmomsshousee @samkysnks @mikithekiki @aegeanblues @mykuronekome @lowkey-a-faerie-in-disguise @orange-aesthetic-yay @katsukibabe @vvanills @katiekat300 @utterlyconfused-tm @learningasigo @bigkoalafications @bnhaficswriter @tspice283 @simpforeveryone @crackhead1-800 @poetryandhoetry01 @bakasbitch18 @riceballsandanime @franko-pop @lostmarimoismyhubby @junniev8 @thirsthourdemon @cowward @the2ndl @reaperintheroses @bakugousmrs @maemi324 @beautifulparisiangirl @commandertorinshepard @bnhafan101 @meliapis @thecaoswitch @liviwivi1 @hikaru-mikazuki @angie-1306 @theinfamoushotdog @minibobabottle @honeylemondragonemperor @iloveitblackbnha @yokesmam @annepamgkrth @the2ndl @sugarandsoft

AUTHORS NOTE: Personally one of the worst fucking chapters I’ve produced, anyways yooo Bakugou kinda feels guilty Y/N is going through this but you know this is going to be a strength building exercise for her. The ceremony after is based off of GOT so iykyk. Anyways my eye has been shut for like three days it just keeps watering and so irritating to write with. Okay I’m done ranting, I hope you liked it.

925 notes · View notes

michellemagic · 4 years

Text

PureLuck (Chapter 1: Crimson)

I wrote this a while back and completely forgot to share it on this platform, opps :p (Lily x Felix)

SUMMARY: A series of short stories based on if Lily and Felix were actually in a relationship before the events of WMMAP and their lives throughout the story.

WARNING: Slight mention of blood and murder

Lily knew, since the beginning of their relationship, that Felix was a person that would always be stained with blood.

It was an unavoidable fact of life. He was a soldier, a front figure whenever the kingdom went to war. He was a man so well known, there were myths and stories told about him. Though, thousands of lives have ended by his hand, and she was sure that even more would follow.

She knew he had killed countless with the hands that held her own. That he had given orders to kill with lips that frequently fell over hers. Had gazed as hardships and horrors she couldn’t even begin to imagine with eyes that looked at her with nothing less than love.

But still, he was just a man.

He was a man who loved telling stories, a man who took things way to literally, and a man who blushed terribly when she kissed his check. Just as he was a man who would curl around her when he was sad, get flustered when someone mentioned that hilariously extravagant nickname he earned for himself, and get quiet when someone joked of the lives he took.

It may seem cruel but his pull towards remorse was one of the only reasons she got into this relationship. The act of taking life was heavy on the soul, but Felix was able to see where he had to draw the line. A sense of honor and justice that made him more than just the scary knight from stories. He felt remorse, and he never hurt people who didn’t deserve it. Yes he killed men in war, but innocents? He'd never, war put aside. He was a man Lily could love.

___

There were whispers that night as she went to bed. Lily, tired and slightly peeved, did her best to ignore them as usual. She considered herself a professional and prided herself in not listening in on the rather off gossip spoken by her peer. The rumors were usually untrue and stories very off as Lady Diana had once complained.

Lily felt herself blushing at the thought of Lady Diana, (chaotic bi energy anyone?) the beautiful woman was very easy to adore. Poise and polite, not needy like the other concubines of the harem. Beautiful blonde hair and ruby eyes. Always elegantly dressed with the moves of an angel-

“-ryone in Ruby Palace, Dead!”

Lily scrunched her nose at that. It was hard to ignore gossip when everyone was so loud. This is why she didn't listen to any of it, people always made up completely insane rumors like this. Honestly, who would attack Ruby Palace, a palace full of only concubines?

“It was the Emperor, he murdered everyone after that dancer whore of his gave birth!”

Dancer? Diana. She... had her baby? It's much too soon, they have to be wrong.

“A princess I heard.”

“She’s the only one who survived.”

At some point Lily turned, rushed and concerned towards the Ruby Palace. It wasn't true of course, it couldn't be true. But checking never hurt anyone, she'd just check in at the palace and that would be all. Besides, it doesn't matter how powerful the emperor is, to kill that many people by himself would be ludicr-

“I heard the Knight of Crimson Blood was there.”

"Took out a good chunk of those b*tches himself."

Lily stopped at that, breathes becoming shallow. That couldn't be true, Felix was a good man. Felix wouldn't hurt innocent people.

Slowing, she could hear a soldier muttering from behind the next hall. Good, she'd ask him. He'd look at her funny but he'd tell her Ruby Palace was still full of women. That everyone was alive and Felix didn't break his promise. She would be ridiculed for even asking about such an obviously false rumor, but at least she'd be at ease. It was going to be fine.

Turning the corner, question at her lips, Lily froze. The soldier continued to walk by her muttering abuse, frustrated and covered in blood.

___

Lily felt numb, at some point she stopped moving to Ruby Palace and starting walking back to her room.

She didn’t remember when exactly she arrived at her humble quarters or when she opened the door, but she did remember freezing up when she looked inside.

Felix was there, not surprising as he took to coming often after a long day of following the Emperor around. There he stood in the middle of her small room, striping off his armor and tussling his hair as he did every time. There was one key difference though.

He was covered in blood. It was smudged on the side of his face and practically gloved his hands. From where she stood she could smell the strong rusting iron scent the blood gave off. He looked like he just got back from a massacre. For the first time in her life she saw why everyone called him a crimson knight.

“Felix, what did you do.”

“Lily! You’re back! I just-” Felix turned quickly, having snapped back to reality at the sound of her voice.

She cut him off, tone frosty, ”How could you?”

He was silent at that, at a loss for words. She continued,” Felix, why...”

“Lily, please. You kn-“

“Felix. Dozens of people. Women, innocent women ” That was it, what she didn’t understand. He promised her. He promised he only hurt those who deserve it. He promised he’d never fall so low as to break his word. That if he did, it would be if he became a completely different person.

“I won’t- I can’t say no to his majesty.”

She could hear it in his voice, the way it broke and pleaded.

he’s like my brother, he’s the emperor, he’s-

Lily looked at him, face and hands still covered in blood. The blood of women who did nothing wrong. The blood split because of one man’s petty anger.

She could also see the remorse in his eyes, the sorry at his lips, the anxiety in his movements. She breathed, it was uneven and shaky.

“Get out.”

Felix went stiff, eyes suddenly painful.

“Lily, please. ”

“Felix, get. out.”

She couldn’t forgive him for this. Not after he went giving everything away and not expecting consequences. For choosing his relationship with Claude, a man who just murdered an entire palace of women, over his promise to her. Couldn’t. Shouldn’t. Wouldn’t.

She wouldn't stoop that low for such a man.

Felix turned and left without another word.

___

The next day, Lily hid away everything that reminded her of Felix and steeled her heart. She didn’t need him, and she’d be perfectly ok by herself. She would damnit.

She fought her way into being put in charge of Princess Athanasia. This was Lady Diana’s child, and Lady Diana was always so excited when talking about the child. So hopefully for it -her- ‘s future, that she’d be loved and cared for. Lily would grab onto that small part of Diana left behind and hold on. She needed a purpose right now, something to ground her. She would fight for this, for something to love and protect.

Something that wouldn’t hurt her like he did.

The next day, amused and peeved and all around uncaring Emperor Claude gave responsibility of his heir to Lily. Let Diana’s little follower take the beast, it’s not like I have any use for it.

Grateful and suddenly relieved , she bowed lowly to her emperor. She did it. She wouldn’t see the way Felix’s face scrunched painfully as she turned from him once more. She didn’t need it.

___

The two wouldn’t speak again until 5 years later.

…

Lily hugs Athanasia tight to her chest, eyes cold and unforgiving. Unwilling to lose anything more to the man in front of her, and similarly, Felix obviously uncomfortable looked at her, wanting to say something, anything. Im sorry. I miss you. I love you. But no, not in front of all these people. Not after all this time. It was too late for that, so head pulsing and stomach clenched he turned to the young princess in her arms and spoke to her instead. Ignoring the suffocating ache in his heart

…

#wmmap #who made me a princess #suddenly became a princess one day #felix robane #lilian york #wmmap athanasia #wmmap diana #claude de alger obelia #the Au where lily and felix were in a relationship before the story started #and are no longer in a relationship during the story #lol

42 notes · View notes

youcantfiremebecauseiquit · 3 years

Note

idk if u care but crispin gray recently had an interview about his entire career and it kind of changed my perspective of queenadreena…idk if for better or for worse lol. it was weird to see him so dismissive of a lot of his catalogue w katie except for ‘love your money’ just because that was the only remotely chart successful song. i get you want to be able to sustain yourself but jeez him and katie really had a weird back and forth relationship

Sorry i'm replying late, i've seen the interview pop up on Youtube but honestly i was too invested in university shit recently & generally not in the good mood for that but i'm planning to watch. How did it change your view on Queen Adreena, did he say something mean specifically on QA or Katie? I mean i gotta watch it but honestly? Not surprised in the slightest. A few years ago he was asked to describe fave songs he recorded throughout the years and he listed more of Daisy Chainsaw ones than anything else, with Love Your Money as number 1. The differences in their points of view are real something, Katie Jane absolutely HATED Love Your Money, same as Daisy Chainsaw. Kinda apparent he wanted bigger fame but DC dropped fast and QA failed to live up to their predictions.

i had a time when i liked to dig up old Queen Adreena interviews that are lost in the old internet & generally not available for years (which i planned to post on is-she-suffering but my investment in that site is... varied in its intensity). Also that was back in the days when i wrote Queen Adreena book during manic phase and tried to sell it but lost motivation Well since i don't do anything with that knowledge anyway i'll put what i know here as i love fan discussions

So they sure had/have odd back and forth love-hate relationship & that's the reason why their career went how it went. There's been a huge tension between them at some point. I'm sure you know she had a major mental breakdown (probably schizophrenic episode) after Daisy Chainsaw, or even beginning before her leaving, and then she went into isolation and lived with an old woman in Lake District for awhile. She left Daisy Chainsaw cause Crispin didn't want her to come up with her own songs (all of DC was by Crispin except for Lovely ugly brutal world by KJ).

They almost split up as Queen Adreena after Drink Me. The material for The Butcher and The Butterfly was written at different times, originally it was meant to be called Atom Bomb at Bikini but it was constantly delaying and they eventually recorded everything they've got live. So that's obvious right? But i was surprised to find out they were writing songs separately. Some of them (i forgot which though) were written by Katie Jane and Pete Howard's sons band (they're even credited) + some with Melanie Garside, Richard Adams + some other musician. Katie Jane didn't like it. They intended it to be their last album at the time. She also hated live at ICA show but they released it cause they were broke

But that's a digression. I just wanna say that at this point they were done with each other but kept pushing it. Katie had her own art projects and stuff, Crispin started Dogbones with Nomi and i just remember how vaguely pissed at Katie he waas in the interviews. Like he stressed that Dogbones is his number one priority and if Katie wants to do something with Queenadreena, she must wait til Dogbones have a break first or something, and it sounded oddly bitter.

RaCH and Djinn era are just so weird, they had opportunities but let them go in a way. I don't think many people know but they were huge demand in Japan. They entered album charts and were interviewed by 11 magazines and 6 (!)TV stations there (wtf happened to that material i want to know???). But they only played 5 times or less.

Katie said she considers the band dead but they decided they can try to play for a couple more months. But aside from that she 100% lost the interest in the band around Djinn. There's an interview where she says "the overall image is Crispin but the shape will change again at rehearsals". And you can hear it, it’s more blues rock than anything. IMO it's their worst production wise. Instruments are fine but Katie's voice is so badly produced that sometimes i find some songs fucking irritating, cause they didn’t cut out her breaths and the vocals are TOO LOUD, to the point of distorting. As if she stands too close to the mic. The album is fine but it feels unfinished.

And here we come back to Crispin... here's what he said after the QA split:

Why the Dogbones started? “I needed to work more than the previous band I was in was working, the previous band who shall remain nameless, haha… um… Queenadreena. I wanted to work more than the singer of Queenadreena wanted to work… so that’s why it started. Fine by me… but I really like to be in a band, I’m not a solo project kind of guy. The last album (‘Djin’) did come out in the UK, but it was so low key because Katie kind of disappeared so there was little point in promoting it. Personally it’s my favourite by far so it was a shame but there you go… So here are Dogbones, it’s not been an easy ride but we are trying very hard.

Ok so the bitterness is kinda apparent isn't it. I think there were two reasons why they argued so much, first musical differences. Katie at some point lost interest in loud rock music for some years and went the folk way in Ruby Throat. I have a theory that Taxidermy and Drink Me are more influenced by Katie Jane and Butcher and Djinn are more Crispin. During first albums i think Katie more actively took part in music composition and choosing arrangements. She wrote lyrics, melodies but also composed a lot of songs on some little electronic keyboard thing and 4 track (Heavenly Surrender, Pray for me, My Silent Undoing, all Lalleshwari +more). Plus she wanted more peaceful/dreamy sound on Taxidermy than full on rock, Crispin complained about it in some 00's interview, that he'd like it to be more rock. Then there are 2 versions of Drink Me, the original has rough and alt versions of songs (it was sold by Katie and it's leaked on FB and probably YT). Crispin Gray apparently really hated the final Drink Me. Now next album is The Butcher & The Butterfly and it's more standard blues rock, no more crazy dreamy things of previous albums etc., Djinn is even more blues rock but darker. Djinn was his favourite at some point while KJ hated Butcher, not sure about Djinn. So i think they had different views on where they should go, Katie made her weird simplistic creepy tunes (like Lalleshwari) and folk melodies adding that strange things to noise rock. Crispin probably wanted blues & rock.

Other than that, i’m convinced they are bitter exes, lol. There’s been rumours about them dating during Daisy Chainsaw for years, plus Katie had a history of dating band members. Crispin wrote X-ing off the days about her. I don’t know if they dated again in Queen Adreena. Then there’s this interview, timeline is unclear, either The butcher & the butterfly or later:

„Katie writes all the songs herself and often looks for melodies and structure with the drummer. With Crispin - her husband or ex-husband, which is not entirely clear to me - for almost three years she has no longer been in a room. "Sometimes we send him a letter with a new song and that's all we can do. All we have are our lungs and our musical talent and we have to do with it. It is repugnant difficult life, I know most of the time how I should deal with it." But Queenadreena will still remain even exist? "I think so, we are now pretty busy and I see where the ship aground.”

I always wondered what exactly happened after Djinn, i’ve seen Katie Jane say „i think they gave up on me” while others said she disappeared. Other times CG said there’s no bad blood between them but at the same time there’s been some weird tension. As of recent i thought they reconnected somehow through the internet and had a good relation but who really knows.s

I get why Crispin gets irritated when people compare everything he does to „stealing from KJ” but honestly, he gave them good reasons, at least in the 90’s. I can believe Starsha Lee singer isn’t copying Katie cause she’s from Brazil or something and she didn’t know Queen Adreena before. But everything else… Crispin’s problem is that he doesn’t know what he wants. He spent 90’s chasing something, tried singing himself, had girl singer replacements and even one KJ copy. Dogbones was ironically his most original non-Katie band, even with all their grunge influences. In a way he wants to be a frontman and at the same time doesn’t. Idk if he’s very controlling, but Daisy Chainsaw shows he valued his songs/lyrics first & in Queen Adreena he had to step back a lot, cause Katie’s condition was she would be in charge of the lyrics. I don’t think he realizes how strongly Daisy Chainsaw issues affected Katie, i mean from her own words you can read that aside from media attention/hate, her being unable to write lyrics had a role in her breakdown. I think she now let go but for years she hated remembering Daisy Chainsaw and she felt kind of worthless cause she was only somebody else’s mouthpiece. I’m not trying to say he’s cruel or anything, but i firmly believe rock lyrics writers should sing their own songs or else there are problems.

They both were writers-composers with different vision and i have impression they struggled a lot while shaping their songs, cause they both stuck to their ideas. Hence 2 versions of Princess Carwash maybe. Katie once said that he „gets terribly upset with her” cause she writes her songs on a simple wind organ and uses a few chord buttons only. Clash of writer ways/personalities/egos and at some point they had to let go.

Maybe he prefers music/bands where he was 100% in control including lyrics (note he wrote/sang some lyrics in Dogbones too). Daisy Chainsaw achieved bigger success US and UK wise as they were offered to play Top of The Pops, and they’re more well liked/remembered by „general alt public”. Queen Adreena however is way more valued as a cult band, with cult following and admiration in UK & France. Most people think Pretty Like Drugs and other QA songs are his best work and he probably finds it irritating cause truth is, he never managed to be more successful than Daisy Chainsaw/Queenadreena. Love Your Money is ironically the least Crispin Gray/DC/QA sounding song in my opinion. I kinda find it irritating that he downplays Queen Adreena cause it was probably his best work in this band but whatever

So yeah sorry for the word spill, that’s what i can think of it right now but as i said, i haven’t watched the interview yet, it’s just this kind of treatment is in a way consistent for him

#asks

6 notes · View notes

halfway-happyyy · 4 years

Text

a concept: There are rare moments in life when we are afforded the opportunity to pick up and vanish at a moments notice. Obviously it is much harder to do when miniscule, honey-sticky hands grab needlessly at the hem of your shirt, or when you answer to a man behind the comfort of an oak desk and towering stacks of paper. It is most definitely harder to do when there is a constant chatter of chaos floating through the confines of your mind.

So when you found out you had a whole two weeks to do what you pleased- you made the decision to embark on a one-person road trip through 'wine country' Washington. Friends had told you to be weary of rogue tumbleweeds on your drive in- and you had been hard pressed to believe them. But of course, and to your immediate amusement, an hour away from your destination and in a valley of luscious, rolling hills, a mass of sticks, twigs and dead grass rolled lackadaisically across the road in front of your car.

Settling in to your accommodations had been an easy task; you were to be spending the next week in the comfort of a lovely reconverted barn. You had no tentative plans, except to explore the cozy little town you that were about to call home for the next little while, and to drink copious amounts of wine. The locals were lovely to you in every way imaginable and were pleased to dole out delicious local food spots and bars at your behest. ("You just have to check out the restaraunt in the centex gas station- best brisket sandwhich you might ever have.") On the last full day before you were scheduled to make your departure, (a four hour drive over to Seattle was the next adventure on your list) you decided to make a day of visiting wineries. Winery number two had been stumbled upon by accident; you had taken a wrong turn down a quiet side street and was pleasantly surprised to find that, unlike the others you had passed by, this one only had one or two other people inside. Ducking in from under the beating June sun, you found yourself an empty seat at the bar and scanned the wine menu atop the counter. You were patient while your bartender talked at length about her and her wife's new venture in pig farming, to a man seated at the end of the concrete counter. Wedged in his grasp was a near-empty glass of ruby red wine. It struck you that he seemed somewhat out of place in this atmosphere; with his short, well-kept blonde hair, the utterly expensive looking watch he would clock every now and then, his height...

"Can I get you anything?" Your bartender had noiselessly made her way over to where you were, startling you from your reverie.

Peering down at the list again, you quirked your eyebrow in question. "How is the vino moscato?"

She smiled knowingly. "On a day like today? There isn't anything better on that list. Can I get you a glass?"

"Please," You smiled back.

You sat in comfortable silence as she poured you a glass of the crisp, white liquid. It felt incredibly good to be somewhere without a time constraint; to enjoy the indie music emanating from the building, to feel the late June breeze wash over your skin like warm water. You savoured the taste of the cool liquid against your tongue; reveled in the slight tingle of the bubbles as they flowed freely down your throat.

"Is that one any good?"

You turned to the man a few seats away from you, observed the sunglasses perched atop his head, the slight golden colour of his skin. You shrugged your shoulders and gestured to his empty glass of red wine. "That depends. Do you like white wines?"

He smiled and you noticed immediately how the creases next to his ocean-blue orbs deepened when he did so. "I enjoy wine in general. No real preference wins over another."

You lifted your glass in greeting. "Well then yes, I think you would enjoy this."

The bartender, who had been privy to the entire conversation grinned and reached for a fresh glass. "Another moscato coming right up."

Without warning, the stranger moved seats from the end of the bar to a few metal stools away from you. Clad in an impossibly soft looking blue t shirt and worn denim jeans, you were keenly aware of just how attractive he happened to be. He took a tentative sip from the glass in his hand, let his eyes fall shut, and smiled. "An excellent choice indeed. I'm Alex, by the way,"

You gave him your name as well, and smiled as he repeated it with an accent that you could not quite place, immediately making it more exotic sounding than it ever deserved to be. Setting his glass back against the countertop, he turned to you. "So do you frequent this winery often?"

You stifled a giggle at the line he chose to use. "No, actually. Not at all. Just passing through," You took a sip from your own glass. "Do you?"

He shook his head. "I'm based out of Seattle for the next few months. Just drove down here for the weekend under the guise of good wine and even better breakfast."

Ever intrigued by the thought of a delicious breakfast, you were about to ask him to elaborate when his phone rang. He answered in a language that was entirely foreign to you- but the few pieces you could discern were almost certainly in Swedish. You sipped at the rest of your wine and ordered another glass as he said a last word and hung up the phone. "Brothers, hey?" He let out a breathless chuckle.

An hour and a half had passed since you had stumbled into this minimalist oasis, and when he stood up to pay his bill and bid you goodbye, you found yourself inexplicably wishing that you had more time to converse with him. "Thanks again for the wine suggestion... here's hoping I can find it again in Seattle?"

"Oh, you will." The bartender chimed in.

He threw another beam your way and stocked out of the building into the bright, inviting sunlight. It was quiet for a few moments while you mulled over where you would wander off to next, not a single drop left in your empty glass.

Just as you were about to get up and leave, Alex rounded the corner and faltered just inside the doorway of the winery. "This is going to sound crazy, and please don't feel like you need to say yes... but how would you feel about exploring this place together today?" He clocked the watch on the underside of his wrist. "I'm not due back in Seattle until 5 o'clock tomorrow night."

You glanced back at the bartender who simply giggled and shook her head, offering no insight whatsoever. "You know what- why not?" You passed over a fifty dollar bill and thanked her for her service.

It had been uncomfortable at first- this was something you had been warned about since you could talk. Do not talk to strangers, do not hang out with strangers. It had been different with this particular person though; conversation flowed freely between the pair of you, and he had not at any point, made you feel threatened or unsafe. You split the fares of the uber rides evenly between the both of you and enjoyed the ride through the scenic winding roads and hills. Alex had been born in Sweden, but was now mostly based out of New York and California and tried to get back to his homeland as often as possible, as all of his family was still there. He was an exceptionally good listener and it awed you how a few hours spent with him, felt like picking up where you left off with an old friend. Time passed slowly when you were together and when the visit to the last winery had come and gone, and the golden sun had begun to sink low over the lush, green hills, Alex accompanied you back to your barn. Your keys hung haphazardly from the crook of your pinkie finger and you cocked your head to the side, ignoring the fact that saying goodbye was the last thing you wanted to do. "You know, you mentioned something this afternoon about breakfast here..."

Alex's eyes glittered under the waning light and his lips quirked up into a small half-smile. "Yes, I've been told that there is a place just off main street here, that serves pancakes as big as my head. Would you care to join me tomorrow morning?"

Swallowing hard, you found yourself nodding your head. "Yeah, I think I'd like that."

True to his word, the pancakes you ordered around nine o'clock the next morning, were as big as your head, if not more so. They were also leaking with a viscous, tart strawberry rhubarb sauce and dusted with a thin layer of confectioners sugar. Alex settled into a mug of steaming black coffee and to eat, he ordered a bowl of fried aspargus tips and nutella pancakes. When he was finished, he settled back in his chair and cocked his head to the side, his expression unreadable. "Do you suppose we'll stumble into each other again?"

The question had caught you off guard and you shifted in your seat. "Maybe..." You shrugged your shoulders. "But maybe not."

He frowned.

"Isn't it nice though? To have two people meet through complete happenstance, share a couple of lovely hours together, and go on back the way they were?" You inquired, quietly.

"Happenstance," he repeated the word over, savoured the sound of it on his tongue, a small smile tugged at his lips.

"Oh, it's lovely," He agreed after a moment. "I just can't help but feel like i'm doing myself a disservice if I don't follow up with you in some way..."

You grinned and waved the waiter down for the bill. After paying and using the restroom in preparation for your looming roadtrip, you both headed out into the bright sunlight to your parked cars. Alex stood leant against his SUV, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his denim jeans. "I am really happy that we crossed paths," He offered quietly. "Just in case that big old sky falls on our heads."

An idea, bright and hopeful swam into vision at that moment. You reached into your bag and ripped off a piece of scrap paper from the journal in there. Alex already had a pen waiting for you, as if knowing exactly what you were about to do. You scribbled The Central Saloon - Seattle onto it, and handed the pen and paper back to him with a small smile.

He repeated the name of the bar to himself, his expression confused.

"If you can meet me there, tomorrow night- say maybe eight o'clock, perhaps our paths might cross again."

Alex rubbed the pad of his thumb over your handwritten script and slipped it into the pocket of his jeans with a finite nod. "Oh, I'll be there."

You allowed one last look at the man before you, and stepped into the front seat of your car, breathless and utterly hopeful.

#the universe fights for souls to be together okay #fun fact: this is loosely based on a true story #i did meet a lovely guy who i sipped wine with and had lovely conversation with all day long #i still think about him #oh god i miss walla walla #drabble #a concept #alexander skarsgard #alex sstuff

28 notes · View notes

tigereyes45 · 4 years

Note

RWBY-Whiterose, ruby rescues Weiss from her father's mansion

(Sorry it took a bit to do but I hope you enjoy it! Ao3 link here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25216039 WARNING: More physical violence from Jacques)

There will be an escape

Weiss knew she could expect many things. Her inheritance, taking control of her grandfather's company, Winter coming home to celebrate her graduation from Beacon academy, becoming a top-notch huntress second only to Pyrrha, the one who would take her father down. She would mentally go through them in times of stress. A quick deterrent to keep herself in place. A little comfort that there would be more even at their lowest points. What she knew was shackles that held her down and in one place. They were keys to doors she had no other way of opening.

They were lies. Beacon was gone. Ironwood couldn't save her like he had saved Winter. Pyrrha was dead, there would be no graduation, and her father had no plans of just letting her step up and take charge. He would not allow her to become a huntress. She couldn't inherit the company. Leaving the mansion was out of the question. Her face still rings hotly from where his hand had landed. There was only one certainty anymore. Her escape.

She had a plan of course. Weiss Schnee always has a plan. In fact there were three. Each would become increasingly more difficult if the first was thwarted by her father. All were chancy. So she decides to go with the first one that presented itself with an opportunity to be used.

It was a waiting game. Months passed before there was a chance she could leap at. With a smile, Weiss was ready to fly the coop. Freedom lures her away with promises. Endless potential, a chance out from her father's grasp, a way to make her own path in the world just like Winter had, perhaps even a peaceful death at the end of a long life. With every possibility, her feet carried her another step towards the open kitchen window. Weiss doesn't question who opened it. What point was there in pondering whoever else was foolish enough to disobey her father. If this worked they would lose their job, but Weiss could finally escape. In her delirium, only the chance mattered. Who cared if she had no clothes, no money, no way out of the city yet. Answers could be found. She was Weiss Schnee. The Weiss Schnee. If anyone could find a way to make it out of a damaged iron cage, slowly collapsing in on itself, it was her.

One of her heels almost slips on a mop left besides the largest oven. Her arms slams against the counter. Throwing all her weight onto the other foot it takes seconds for her to find balance again. Stumbling in the next few steps, Weiss could now taste freedom. It was fresh air, Ren's pancakes, blood from a fight, victory, chocolate chip cookies, rose tea, Ruby's lips. Her knees scrape against the counter. Soft skin scratches old training cuts open. All those months hunting, and her flesh could still tear so easily. It was frustrating, but now wasn't the time to be angry. Steady hands hold the sill tightly. Nails trimmed so perfectly dig into it's sanded wood. Her head slips through. As her nose catches it's first scent of the outside world in three months pressure builds up on the end of her ponytail.

The young woman was given no time to react. Violently Weiss is dragged back through the window. A brief moment of bliss stolen. Hands flying back weren't fast enough to stop her fall. Her body slams against the marble flooring. With hatred in his eyes Jacques glares down at her. His nostrils flare, as those light blue eyes narrow down at her. He stands imposingly above Weiss as if she was a child again. Just like that a chance was snatched away.

Jacques is quick to yell. Even quicker to bend over her, closing that space he had thrown between them. As his hands shake and move Weiss doesn't move. She doesn't flinch. Her eyes don't watch those hands shaking hands. Not one minute was wasted on thinking about all the lines he had already crossed. Nor would one second ever be spent on them ever again. As his voice rises she starts to hear him less. Every word became less and less important. If it was her body breaking down, or just finally able to tune him out she honestly couldn't tell. It didn't matter anyways. The window was still there. Hauntingly it hangs open, the wind whistling. It calls like a lifelong friend. Every snowflake drifting in more comforting than all the soft moments her father had ever shown in her entire life.

"Get away from me!" Instinct takes over. One moment she's pinned between the floor and her father. The next her hands were in his coat. Red painted nails dig into the soft cloth. His body doesn't budge. Tension builds up under her hands like a geyser about to blow. Moving stiffly, Jacques goes rigid as he watches her struggle to push him away. All that training. All those moments. None of them mattered. He wouldn't stop her. No one could ever stop her again.

A glyph starts to form on his chest between her hands. It glows dimly at first. Barely there and then gone again. Blinking like an eye, in and out of existence several times. Weiss tries to focus on it without looking. She faces her father down. Eye to eye, brute strength against a true brute.

Somehow the old man doesn't notice what's happening. Just like always it was the stuff right under his nose that went unnoticed. When Winter was planning to abandon him she couldn't have been more obvious. Even if she had written a simple note saying 'fuck off I'm leaving' he wouldn't have known. Mother's slow descent to alcoholism. Though she had a deep suspicion that even if he had noticed he wouldn't have stopped it. Whitley's unhealthy obsession with being just like this cruel asshole. Maybe if he was just a little more observant he could actually get more done. If he did there was no way this would work then. So his clueless-ness wasn't all bad. Years of negligence all coming back to bite him in the ass.

"I am your father! Cease this at once!"

Ah the orders. They always followed his temper like good little men dressed up to play their part. Unlike before those words hold no power over her. This imbalance was done!

Loosening her grip Weiss pushes her hands flat against his chest now. Jacques smirks as if that meant he won. Had he always been this quick to accept victory? Possibly. She couldn't recall. With one last grunt it was done. The glyph shines as brightly as the sun had in Vale. Shock, replaces his anger. As she removes her hands those light blue eyes show relief. His body goes flying back against the fridge. The sterile silver metal dents from the impact. With a sense of smug satisfaction Weiss risks taking just a second to look over him.

She doesn't smile. This was a victory but he was still her father. Horrible as he was, she hadn't wanted it to go this far. When did it all go wrong? Could things have been better if just one or two parts of their life was changed? The questions plague her mind even as she climbs back onto the counter.

"I don't think so."

Whirling her head back, Weiss glares Jacques down. "I'm leaving."

"No. You're not." He smirks as his hand slowly rises up. It looks painful. Was every inch causing him agony? Had she gone too far? Hesitating Weiss watches as her father reaches into his coat. There's a soft, smothered click. Alarms blare throughout the house. It stings her ears worse then a pack of beowulf howls.

Weiss turns to climb out the window. Now it was just as much to escape from the sound as it had been to free herself. Before she could even put a hand out metal bars shoot down from outside the window. Heartbroken Weiss holds back her cries. Head hanging low, she couldn't stop her bottom lip from quivering let alone convince her body to stop shaking. The moment to fly free was gone. Once again she was frozen in place. Those shackles of broken promises and opportunities lost begin to climb up her body again. Crawling like inch worms over her skin they wrap around every limb. Her forehead falls against the metal bars. The freezing steel rests comfortably against her skin. It was warm compared to her heart.

"Need a hand?"

That sweet voice felt like it was from another life. It sends warmth flooding through her body. With a force Weiss wasn't used to hope grows within her once more. There, right on the other side of the bars was Ruby. Briefly Weiss wonders if she was a hallucination. Desperately her hands reach out through the bars. They brush against Ruby's cheeks.

With an innocent smile Ruby tilts her head. Resting her fingers over Weiss' hands she holds them there, against the warmth of her cheeks. She has to keep herself from laughing. Trully being in Atlas so long must've frozen her to the core. Ruby felt warm despite her cheeks being flushed a deep, crimson from the cold weather.

"I'm sorry it took so long Weiss."

"You idiot." She laughs, breaking her cruel words up. For a moment Ruby frowns. She lets go of Weiss' hands and reaches through the bars herself.

"I should've been faster. I'm so sorry Weiss."

Weiss viciously shakes her head no. "This isn't on you Ruby. None of this is your fault. Not Beacon, not Pyhrra, not this."

Water builds up in Ruby's eyes. She leans against the metal bars. Her forehead nearly meeting Weiss through them. "I love you Weiss."

Before she could respond Ruby was gone. In a gust of rose petals she flies through the bars. All around her the soft petals gently rub against her skin. They graze her cheeks, and brush against her hair. It really truly was her love. Weiss scoots herself off the counter. As she lands on her high heels Ruby reforms right before her. Almost nose against nose Ruby grabs her hands.

"I brought help."

"It would've been foolish for you to come alone."

"Yeah well, I wanted to once I heard about what happened."

Weiss glances away, averting her gaze. "You'll have to be more specific about what you heard."

The younger girl glares back at Jacques who was seething with anger as he watches the two. Weiss must've hurt her father a lot. Otherwise he would already be standing up again. No matter what he thought he had no chance against Ruby.

Ruby lets out a long high whistle. She wraps her arms against Weiss' waist. There's a loud shout, and then the sound of metal against metal. Twisting around as much as she could against Ruby's hold Weiss catches a glimpse of green. The yelling only grows into a uproarious battle cry. When she looks back at Ruby, she was smiling.

"I wasn't the only one who missed you." With that Ruby lifts Weiss up. Her semblance activates flying them around the kitchen once before they shoot through the now unbarred window. Weiss moves to hold on to Ruby tighter, but her fingers only grasp as hundreds of petals. Fresh air and hits her all at once, almost as powerful as Ruby's arms had been around her. It felt like a dream as they flew away. Far from the prison that used to be her home.

#rwby #whiterose #weiss schnee #ruby rose #fanfic #fanfiction #ff #ao3 #weiss #ruby

8 notes · View notes

shirtlesssammy · 4 years

Text

3x16: No Rest for the Wicked

The Road So Far:

I want to write some flip comment that Dean’s going to hell, y’all, but man, this shit still messes with me.

Now:

Dean’s running for his fucking life through a forest, until he runs into invisible hell hounds. I’m guessing it was here that Jensen put his foot down about the Samulet --that thing had to be bouncing everywhere. Dean starts running in the opposite direction until they catch up with him --and he wakes up.

Ok, I know that hell hounds are scary and all, but the open flames while sleeping? NOPE. Sam finds him and tells him that Bobby’s found a way to find Lilith. Dean’s sweaty and not as relieved as he should be --he’s got 30 hours until go time. Sam tries reassuring his brother that it’s all going to be okay --but Dean’s already starting to see the warped faces that the woman from the last episode saw.

Pre-TFW perform a locating spell.

Dean is hesitant to head to Indiana, where the spell pinged Lilith. Sam wants to summon Ruby to help with the plan. “She is the Miss Universe of lying skanks.” Tell us what you really think, Dean. Dean insists they find another way.

Sam does the summoning spell all on his own.

Ruby arrives and admits that she knew that Lilith held Dean’s contract. Sam and Dean were not ready to know that. Sam demands her knife. She starts circling him and tells him that the knife doesn’t matter. He’s got not-God (*cough cough*) given talent that could defeat Lilith. Man, Ruby plays to all of Sam’s weaknesses.

Dean pops in, throws out some insults, and demands the knife. We’ve been over this boys, the knife don’t matter. Sam wants to listen to Ruby, Dean doesn’t care. Ruby simply tells them that she wants Lilith dead. Yes, yes, you do. That is the truth. Very, very true. Dean’s gotta get to Hell and break that first seal first though, amirite?

Fisticuffs ensue.

It looks like the puny humans don’t stand a chance against the demon, but it was all a ploy to get the knife. THE KNIFE. Also, they trapped Ruby. Smart Dean is smart.

Packing their gear, Sam starts having doubts. The co-dependency is strong with this episode, guys. Sam wants to save Dean. Dean wants to save Sam. Dean’s Theme starts playing and Dean admits that they’ll do anything for each other --and the bad guys know it. (Chuck knows it.) Dean wants to attack Lilth their way (yaaas --play your game, not hers). Sam admits that Dean should have been “jamming ‘Eye of the Tiger’” during that speech. Dean isn’t amused, but admits that he rehearsed the speech. Bby. Bby boy.

New Harmony, Indiana

In a nice little gated community, two nice old men exchange pleasantries at their shared mailboxes. One grandfather slips the other man a note before heading back inside his home. It reads, “Help us.”

Once inside, the grandfather steps over a very dead body (his wife?!? MY GOD.) and finds his daughter/son in-law in the kitchen. They’re afraid of their Lilith possessed child/grandchild. The granddaughter shows up in the kitchen soaked in blood. It turns out that Freckles was mean to her. The family is horrified. Her mother tries to act normally. The dad asks the little girl if she’ll let them go. She gets suspicious and the tension grows. She’s good though, silly!

Sam and Dean try taking off but the Impala won’t start. Bobby shows up with a necessary part and is upset that they were trying to ditch him.

*Iconic Words Alert*

Bobby utters, “Family don’t end with blood, boy.”

Bobby also knows about Dean’s hallucinations. They need his help.

Later, Sam pushes for deep confessional mode in the car, only for Dean to spurn his attempts to get him to open up. No chick flick moments! Dean turns the music up. “Bon Jovi rocks…on occasion.” He sings “Dead or Alive”, and friends, I am DEAD.

They get pulled over by a cop who calls them out on the Impala’s busted taillight. Dean glances at the cop and then immediately kills him with Ruby’s knife. It turns out the cop was possessed - and Dean could see the demon’s real face. All it took was one look. Bobby tells them that Dean’s almost hell’s bitch so he can see hell’s other bitches. ELOQUENTLY put, Bobby. They realize that demons must be stationed all over town.

Back with little homicidal Lilith, the family sits down before a feast worthy of Sully’s Imaginary Best Friends Club.

The little girl asks grandpa why he asked the neighbor for help. He protests, but she’s clearly onto his plan. Her parents deny knowing anything about it and you can see doom scrawled over grandpa’s face. Lilith accuses him of not loving her anymore and snaps his neck right there at the table. The parents serve cake for dinner, utterly terrified.

Outside, Dean can see that Lilith’s in the little girl. He sees her true face. Dean points out two other demons on patrol: the mailman sorting mail outside at night, and the neighbor that grandpa went to for help. (Wherps.)

Dean is low key horrified at the idea of killing a little girl to kill Lilith, but Sam and Bobby are ready to do whatever it takes.

The Winchesters and Bobby kill the mailman and neighbor, then Ruby shows up. Dean does a double take at Ruby’s face, grossed out by her demonic visage. Them’s fightin’ words, Dean! Well, they could fight over it...except they’ve got bigger problems. An army of demons appears from all the neighboring houses, chasing them to Lilith’s door. Bobby peels off and we spy him with a bucket and a rosary. Soon after, the sprinklers turn on…it’s raining holy water! Hallelujah it’s raining HOLY WATER. Bobby, you smart son of a bitch.

They stalk through the house, surprising the dad. Dean knocks him out and stores him safely in the basement behind a line of salt. They creep upstairs to the kid’s bedroom where Lilith and the mom are curled up in bed. The mom whisper-pleads for Sam to kill her daughter but Sam hesitates. He’s just about to bring down the knife when Dean stops him. Lilith has left the little girl! Hooray! Let’s all NOT stew on this extremely traumatized family unit and how this world MEGA needs therapists training in monster lore. Anyway. Bad news: if Lilith is no longer in the girl, then she’s possessing someone else now.

Sam begs Ruby for help - he’ll do whatever she tells him to if it means he can save his brother. (Holy foreshadowing for Season 4, Batman!) Dean shouts him down. No stupid mistakes, Sammy!

The clock strikes midnight dramatically. (Good thing this family has a big ol’ dramatic grandfather clock, to help us keep track of demon deals.) A hound growls from inside the house and everyone races for a room with a door that closes. Dean spreads goofer dust frantically along the window and doors of the office. Ruby demands the knife so she can try and keep the hellhound at bay and buy Dean some time. Dean takes a hard look at Ruby and realizes…it’s not her! He sees a different demon face now. It’s LILITH.

Lilith pins Dean to the desk while she kisses Sam. NOT COOL, demons! What’s with demons and all the kissing? Smh. Dean tries to ask her about her plan and Lilith smirks in response. She opens the door to the office.

The hellhound races in and tears into Dean while Sam’s pinned to the wall. Dean is pulled to the floor and torn apart while Sam watches. I think the worst part is definitely how Dean starts out screaming and then can’t even scream at the very end. SHUDDER.

shudder

After Dean dies, Lilith triumphantly raises a hand to smite Sam.

She can’t kill Sam, which is a huge surprise to both of them. Sam hauls out Ruby’s knife, only for Lilith to smoke out. He’s left alone with two bodies on the floor. He picks up Dean’s lifeless body and weeps.

The camera moves in, plunging us into Dean’s mind and through...to the other side.

We descend into another world, down to Hell. It’s dark and full of lightning, an endless spider’s web of chains and misery. Dean’s strung up by meathooks jammed into his skin. He screams for Sam, and his screams carry us into the black of the season break.

Holy Quotehounds, Batman!

Either we go in smart or we don’t go in at all

She is the Miss Universe of lying skanks

Um... demon. Manipulative's kinda in the job description

She probably wants you to become her little antichrist Super Star

Do I look like a ditchable prom-date to you?

I think you totally should have been jamming "Eye of the Tiger" right there

If this is my last day on earth, I do not want it to be socially awkward

Family don't end with blood, boy

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #spn rewatch #spn 3x16 #no rest for the wicked #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #ruby #lilith #supernatural season 3

30 notes · View notes

the-angst-witch · 4 years

Text

Pinky Promises

I can’t help but think of my crotchety old grandma, in her fluffy dressing gown, with that tone and that expression, saying “Oh child of mine, what have you gotten yourself into this time?”

That’s all I can picture at the moment, because honestly? I have no earthly clue what I’m doing. I’m going sixty down a highway to God only knows where, (well God and my GPS) but I’m, conservatively, 93% sure that my truck is haunted. Why you might ask? Well, first off, I’ve been driving for 100 miles and for every single one a little black magpie has been flying alongside the window. Secondly my radio’s been on the fritz and the more I drive the weirder it gets. Doesn’t matter what buttons I push it won’t turn off or change the station. I know what you’re thinking “Hey dummy you drive a 30-year-old truck what’d you expect?” I’m thinking O ye of little faith it just gets weirder. The radio station it’s stuck on is completely random. It doesn’t seem to have any specific genre. First it was “The Wanderer” by Dion, then “Lonely Boy” by The Black Keys, now it’s playing “Trouble” by Taylor Swift. Oh, and it’s not just the weird song selections! There aren’t any radio hosts. There’s not even a single corny commercial. So, at my last gas stop I googled the radio station, because WTF right? And drum roll please… It doesn’t exist…it’s supposed to be dead air according to google. And you know, that’s totally comforting.

Another hundred miles and the Magpie has started singing along to the radio. Well to be honest he may have been singing along the entire time and I just haven’t noticed. I started driving with the window down to drown out some of the music, and lo and behold the Magpie has decided to trill along with it. Which is mildly terrifying in its own right, but aside from that I can’t seem to escape the radio. The last song was “I Cross My Heart” by George Strait, and now it’s blaring “10,000 Promises” by Backstreet Boys and the Magpie is frankly impressive in his ability to trill and shriek along with the radio over the sound of the roaring wind. At first, I didn’t want to open the window because I was worried the flyer in my passenger seat would fly out, but I put my phone on it and that seems to be doing the trick. Which is good because the wind is the only thing that seems to drown out the other noises even a little bit.

Another hundred miles and the radio is glitching out even more than it was before. It stopped reading out the names and artists of the songs, and I can’t recognize them anymore. The Magpie is still singing along though. My window is still open. If I close it the music is too loud, the volume just seems to go up every time I try to turn it down. The more miles I put behind me the more missing posters I see plastered everywhere in front. It’s a blur of big red letters and faces I don’t have a hope of remembering. I hope they get found; it hurts to be lost.

Another hundred miles and I’ve stopped at a crappy No-Tell Motel for the night because my brain feels like it’s been put through a blender and I can’t see straight anymore. I’ve named my Magpie finally though. He’s My Lonely Ghost, because nobody else really seems to be able to see him. The last gas station I stopped at he followed me into the store. Not a single person so much as blinked at the sight. The guy at the motel check in desk didn’t even react when Lonely Ghost landed right in front of him. I was starting to panic, but then the couple that checked in after me noticed him. The guy had crazy pink hair and the girl had these unsettling silvery eyes, I know they saw him because they were both staring right at him. I wanted to talk to them just to be sure, but they disappeared before I could. As deeply concerning as all this might sound, I’m still kind of happy Lonely Ghost decided to come along for the ride. If he hadn’t, I might be a lonely ghost myself.

Another hundred miles down the road and the missing posters are getting more and more common. Something’s twisting in my gut. I tried googling the songs that the radio’s been playing for the last 200 miles and according to google, much like the radio station, they don’t exist. Hell, I even tried Shazam, and let me just say that despite the name, that app did not magically shazam even an iota of this situation back into rationality. But hey I may have been expecting a bit much from a $2.99 app. Either way My Lonely Ghost remains the world’s best avian karaoke singer and the wind has yet to mess with the poster in my passenger seat, despite the fact that nothing is holding it down anymore.

Eighty-two more miles and twenty-three to go and My Lonely Ghost has gained a friend. A second Magpie has joined our little adventure squad. He sings too. The farther I drive the more missing posters I see. Some of them are so old the faces have been worn by the weather enough that they don’t even look human anymore. Others look like the ink’s still bleeding.

Eighteen miles to go and another Magpie has joined our group. The posters are stacked so thickly on top of each other I can’t tell what color some of the walls are supposed to be.

Sixteen miles to go and Lonely Ghost has gained a third companion.

Twelve miles to go and it looks like a ghost town. A fourth has joined us. They all sing.

Nine miles to go and I’m running out of time, the sun is getting low. A fifth has joined the choir and the music hurts.

Six miles to go, and the GPS dies, the radio…doesn’t. A final Magpie Joins lonely Ghost and his fleet. I don’t think the music is music anymore…it’s just…

Three miles to go and there’s barely fumes in the tank. There’s a gas station on the horizon and it feels like salvation to see the sign. The music finally stops when I kill the engine and I’m so relieved it feels like I’m a puppet whose strings have been cut. My Lonely Ghost and his fleet land on the roof and the windshield, they stay there when I head towards the station. Before I go inside, I stop at a little stall out front run by a withered old woman selling odds and ends. She has maps, silver bells, iron trinkets, and red, red, ribbons for sale. She rattles on in a croaking voice about all the things on her table. I pay for a map and she’s only too happy to point out all the best Diner’s in town. When I ask her where the Oak Woods are, she goes so still she might as well have turned to stone. A breeze catches one of the silver bells and she meets my eyes, but she looks so sad that I want to steal the question back from the air. She says, “Oh honey, folk’s ‘round here don’t visit the Oak Woods.”

I don’t ask her why.

All the miles of towns drowning in the missing told me why.

When she sees My Lonely Ghosts, she presses handfuls of iron trinkets into my palms and she says, “Oh Child, what have you gotten yourself into?” Something shivers down my spine, but I just take the map and I keep driving. I just keep driving.

The Oak Woods are three miles west, I park my car on the side of the road and I just keep walking. My Lonely Ghosts fly ahead, just in my line of sight. I know I’ve made it when the tree’s fade into a meadow. The grass is yellowed and dying but plump pomegranate bushes are scattered about sucking up all the life for their fruit. There’s one big oak tree in the middle and it’s surrounded by an ouroboros of mushrooms.

There’s a pretty girl sitting up in the oak tree. She has eyes like the last day of summer and she doesn’t smile with her teeth. She sits in the crook of two branches like it’s a throne built for her to rule from. Her hands are covered in red from the pomegranate she’s picking apart. The smeared remains of others litter the grass in front of her. The shadows are writhing and whispering and it’s getting louder as dusk is getting closer. I want to look, but she demands attention. That pretty girl tells me to ignore the things that are whispering in the corners of my eyes, and I listen. I listen because this pretty girl up in the oak tree has been living on the missing flyer in my passenger seat for the last 600 miles.

She doesn’t smile with her teeth. “Haven’t you missed me?” she says.

My Lonely Ghosts have stopped singing. I can’t help but look to see why. They’ve attacked one of the bushes, and they look more like carrion crows than magpies now that their feathers are coated in the ruby red of the pomegranate’s insides.

I shouldn’t have looked.

I saw the things that were shifting and whispering in the corners of my eyes and they…they were never human.

I hear a humming sound and I snap my gaze back to my pretty girl up in the oak tree. Only she’s not in the oak tree anymore. She’s standing at the edge of the ouroboros and smiling with her teeth. She holds out her hand offering me seven perfect pomegranate seeds, her lips have that wicked tilt to them as she grins.

That tilted grin came for the first time at six years old with red popsicles and a pinky promise at dawn that we’d be friends forever.

It’s the same from when we were nine and gorging on strawberries, and another sticky-fingered promise came at three in the afternoon for a secret that I can never tell.

(That was when my grandma first told me that promises were dangerous. That they shouldn’t be given so lightly. But I just laughed, and I laughed, because what could I possibly fear from her? She promised too. Didn’t she?)

It was the expression she had when we were twelve and it was red velvet cupcakes and frosting covered fingers at eight in the evening, and promising we’ll never let anyone tear us apart.

It was the smile from when we were sixteen, and it was cherry colas and cold fingers at one in the morning, when I swore, I’d love her till the day I die.

(That was the millionth time my grandma begged me to understand what I was giving away with every promise. She said, “Oh child, soon that girl will own you, body and soul!” and I laughed, and I laughed, because I’d have ripped my heart out to give it to her if she’d asked.)

It was that same sharpness that came at eighteen with stolen red wine coolers, feverish hands and a promise that I’d follow her into hell.

It’s that same glint in her apocalyptic eyes that she had at exactly midnight sixty-five days and twelve hours ago. When it was a split lip, linked fingers and everything I had left.

I can’t help but think of my crotchety old grandma in her fluffy dressing gown with that tone and that expression, saying “Oh child of mine, what have you gotten yourself into this time?”

#TW: Brief mention of alcohol in passing

19 notes · View notes

jq37 · 5 years

Text

The Report Card – Fantasy High Sophomore Year Ep 3

Thanks, I Hate It!

This week, we move forward by first jumping backwards. Last episode, the Bad Kids found that Riz and Fig were missing. Now, we get to see what happened in the meantime. Riz was in his office, trying to put together anything new on the Nightmare King. We’re reminded that his sword--the Sword of Shadows which he got from the arcade and lets him misty step (also, which he used to kill Kalvaxus)--was made by Tabaxi ninjas (seemingly relevant considering the whole Shadowcat thing). He notices that, in his photo, Kalina’s image doesn’t look as time-worn as the rest of it, as if only the part where she appears was protected. He hears a noise and goes to investigate. What he finds, is a creepy-ass nightmare skeleton person in the mirror claiming to be Baron, from the Baronees (the person he on the fly lied--poorly--that he was dating in ep 1). Respecting the fact that Murph never clarified whether Baron was a guy or a girl, Brennan has Baron exclusively refer to themselves as Riz’s R̵̪̹̄o̸̱͝m̸͔͔̂̽a̴͕̾̈́n̵͙̬͒c̸̣̏͠ḙ̸̃̓ ̶̞̇̕P̸̞͚̈́a̸͉͒͝r̴̛͈͈t̷͓͇̋͒n̸̬͛̈́e̴̮̒r̴̝̃̓ in this mega-cursed, fake Swedish(?) accent.

Thanks, I hate it.

Riz, faced with his lie brought to life, is pretty freaked and tries to shoot it but he’s quickly subdued and dragged into the mirror. Luckily, he’s able to leave the photo for his friends to find.

Meanwhile, Fig spent the night in a weird fugue state--almost like an enjoyable nightmare. Most of her focus is on this feeling of isolation, fame, and power--but in a good way. In the background, she’s doing some unimportant stuff. You know, packing her stuff, stealing a gem, trapping Gorthalax in it, and going to Bastion City. No big deal. Anyway, that brings us back to the present with the rest of our party.

They make it to Bastion City and, more importantly, the hotel where Fig is supposed to be. On the way, Adaine tries to detect magic on Sandra-Lynn to try and figure out why she can see the photograph but nothing comes up. At the hotel, they unsuccessfully try to get the concierge to tell them where Fig’s room is. Adaine detects that the receptionist has some kind of transmutation on them and her first thought is, “Magic plastic surgery.” She dispels it. Not magic plastic surgery. The concierge is a demon--which is different and worse than devils who are at least lawful and, like, part of the bureaucracy of punishing people who deserve it.

Anyway, fight time! A lot happens during this fight so I’m going to try and highlight the most important parts:

All the employees in the immediate area turn into various demons to fight the party.

Adaine and Kristen catch sight of Fig’s room number (downstairs penthouse) right before the fight starts and, at the top of the initiative, Adaine goes invisible and runs for the elevator.

Fabian vaults of Gilear’s face--unnecessarily--and rolls a nat 20.

Gilear (who has FIVE hit points) ducks and covers because of course he does. That doesn’t stop him from being completely obliterated by one punch from one of the huge gorilla demons. He freaking DIES. Thanks, I hate it.

Downstairs, Adaine finds a bunch more demons who are with Fig who is clearly being mind controlled. They have Riz strapped to a table and Fig’s about to stab him with a ritualistic knife. Adaine goes for a dispel magic and gets advantage because of Boggy which leads to her rolling *two nat 20s* and snapping her out of it immediately.

In a very boss move, Fig immediately grabs Riz and dimension doors him out of his restraints and them both to the coat check where she left the ruby with Gorthalax. Before they poof out, Riz sees yellow eyes in the shadows. Familiar tabaxi eyes. Seemed like she was calling shots.

Riz gets in a very cool kill with the line, “Tell Daybreak I said hi.”

Fig finds out Gilear is dead and grabs his soul. Kristen heals him up.

Fabian vaults off of Gilear a second time and rolls a nat 1, sending him back into death saves.

Kristen tosses a spare the dying at Gilear and then kisses full wolfed out Tracker because time isn’t of the essence or anything.

Fig grabs the ruby Gorthalax is in and sees that it’s cloudy--cursed somehow to keep them from breaking him out. Not good. She also finds a bunch of other gems which she also grabs.

We meet Kristen’s new spirit guardians which are now hipster Post-Grad philosophy students in a full spectral coffee shop. She finds them insufferable but is also kind of into it.

They clean up the rest of the demons and then Fabian does donuts on the Hangman. And we are out of combat.

Fig is a little distraught about having almost killed Riz and brought them all into this dangerous situation which literally killed Gilear--even though no one else blames her even a little. Gilear has a bit of a breakdown which is fair. The man died. They try to send him home--Fig wants to give him 10k gold and send him on vacation--but he is determined to stay and experience things and be useful. Also, Fabian has it in his (and Gorgug’s) head that Gilear must be some kind of chosen one since one of the demons in the fight chose to attack Gilear over him.

Fig looks through the other gems she got and only one--a Celestial Sapphire--is similar to size to Gorthalax’s. When they bring it out, a slot in Gorgug’s van pops open. They slot the Sapphire in and, through the radio, an Angelic voice speaks to them. He sounds like Owen Wilson and he doesn’t remember his name. The Hangman hates him immediately. Fig pretends to be a cop to get info from the cops that arrive on the scene, doesn’t find out anything useful, but does roll a nat 20 on her deception (come on) and briefly turns the game into the sister, cop-drama show set in the same universe as the Grey’s Anatomy sham-life she’s living, kissing another full adult man. Incredible.

They regroup at a posh restaurant/cafe called The Swan’s Little Parade. Sklonda calls and, after she and Sandra-Lynn do the mom-catch up thing, she has a quick talk with Riz where we find out a few things about Kalina:

She only worked with Pok on missions between Falinel and Solace.

She was great at going invisible and other infiltration things.

(Note: We actually learned this earlier but I wanted to keep this info together)She looks more like a traditional housecat than a big cat like some other tabaxi.

It’s extremely hard to scry on her.

She didn’t attend Pok’s funeral.

The last time Sklonda heard from her was 12ish years ago.

Riz only encountered her a few times as a kid.

Last Sklonda remembers, she reached out to Pok it was something to do with the ship the Oracle sank on.

They pass around the picture to see who can see it and not only does it appear that Ragh can see her (oh, kinda implied this before but Riz can too) he also seemed really bugged out. Tracker says she can use her cleric mojo to put up some wards to (1) keep them from getting mind whammied like Fig did overnight and (2) maybe make Ragh feel safe enough to talk. She also suggests they all sleep in a huge dog pile for safety which I think is great and someone should draw that.

Gorgug gets a text. It’s Zelda. She can’t believe he left without saying goodbye.

Thanks, I hate it.

Detention

Fabian for Using Gilear as a Launch Pad Two (2) Times

This was a top contender for this spot, even before Fabian did this a second time and screwed up so bad (nat 1!) that Gilear dropped to zero again and had to make death saving throws.

Honor Roll

Adaine for Freeing Fig

Listen, I will freely admit that I have a clear bias towards Adaine. You got me. She’s my favorite. HOWEVER, you cannot tell me that going invisible, rushing straight to the elevator, then rolling double nat 20s (a 1/400 chance) to release Fig from domination right before she plunged a knife into Riz’s heart wasn’t the sickest series of events that happened during this ep. What could possibly compete?

Random Thoughts

I’ve been trying to figure out the rhyme or reason to who can see the full photo but I haven’t figured out a pattern yet. It’s not that only people who have seen her before can see her because Sandra-Lynn can see it and she said she’s never met her--although I guess it’s possible that she has and she didn’t recognize her since she’s a super spy. And it’s not a blanket thing on the Bad Kids specifically because Riz can see her. I was hoping they’d show it to more people so we could get a better idea of the rules. Maybe it’s based entirely on if she wants to be seen by that specific person? But then why wouldn’t it default to the blank image. It seems (from our limited POV) that most people can see her. Maybe for most people a blank space would be more suspicious than a random tabaxi? Idk.

Riz forcibly installing himself as Fabian’s best friend and it working is low key the funniest relationship development in FH. I’m so glad Murph and Lou ran with that. Also, the fact that he’s basically accepted that Riz is his best friend but the Hangman hasn’t at all is so good.

Brennan really just shot Zac in the head at point blank range at the end of the episode, huh? He really just did that to our boy. What’s also funny is that, unlike--say--CR where there’s usually at least a good minute of decompression and goodbyes, Brennan just goes for the kill shot and then peaces out immediately. What a power move.

Also, poor Zelda! She’s already so insecure, this isn’t gonna be good for her self esteem. Arguably, there were extenuating circumstances Gorgug can claim but you know that’s only gonna help so much since he def could have at least called/texted her to let her know he had to leave in a hurry because Fig/Riz were missing. I wonder if there’s a section of the binder on this.

For reference, the demons they fight in the hotel lobby are a Cambion, and then several barlgura and skeksis.

“He’s just a guy!” He certainly is. Check out his stats. Hilarious but also, I can’t act like my stats would look that much different.

I truly, truly cannot believe that Emily pulled the exact same hospital stunt again and it resolved in exactly the same way. This is like when I played blackjack with my brother when I was a teenager to teach him that the house always wins and he hit 21 twice in a row.

Also on the topic of Fig, her coming down from her mind control was my favorite part of this episode, for a couple of reasons. I love how sincerely Emily played the immediate shock and horror at what she almost did (closed book my ass). I love how every other person was so happy to get her back. I love that none of them even entertained the thought that she might be dangerous or untrustworthy now. Relationships at the intersection of constant bullying and ride or die are my favorite.

While we’re on the topic of emotional scenes, Gilear full breaking down in the van post-fight was very funny but you also genuinely felt for the guy. It’s been a really long day for the guy and he died like one and a half times. His, “I haven’t experienced anything before this moment,” line really hit me hard. And I think it’s very wild that Brennan set the DC for convincing him to go home at 25 (which Fig did not pass with a 21). It’s very interesting that Gilear’s reaction to this series of events was to double down and be like, I *need* to be here. Seems like this could be a set up for some interesting Gilear development.

The amount of times I have almost typed Balnor is unreal. My brain stores all the middle aged men hanging out with people too young for him to be hanging out with in the same folder.

I can’t believe Adaine just went for that dispel except that I can because she did the exact thing with Iris’ wig at the NY live show and I couldn’t believe that either! I really did not think (1) that was a good move or (2) gonna lead to combat (except for the kind that gets you banned from a hotel). I completely misread that situation. Like, it’s a world full of magic. It’s not that weird that a random person would have a spell on them. Anyway, this is why she’s the oracle and I’m not.

The Barlgura needed a 3 or higher to hit Gilear. He got a 19. Yikes.

“I had to ask.”/ “No you didn’t.” (The crew explodes into laughter.)

Riz tells the whole gang about the Baron thing and tells everyone that they need to stop lying in case all their lies are gonna pop out and attack them. Gorgug admits that he’s kissed the Hangman. Kristen confesses to a group of her closest friends and girlfriend that she is gay. Tracker is like, “Babe, what?” Tracker (and the Bad Kids but in a different way) must really love Kristen because she is just so much all the time.

Fabian: Who are you seeing then?/Riz:...................No one.

Ally Middle Name Beardsly wtf is a paranoia check?

The comedic rhythm of Fabian vaulting off of Gilear’s face with a nat 20, him dying, being resurrected, and the Fabian trying to do it again with a nat 1 and knocking him near death is so perfect that it’s wild that it was totally random. This is the kind of thing that makes you get superstitious about dice.

We’re introduced to Boggy’s second mood this ep which is Boggy’s mood which is a slightly squinted, “Hmm...I don’t know about this.” Thanks, I love it.

In addition to considering Gilear might be the chosen one (by who? Of what? They don’t know and neither do I) the half of the group entertaining this theory also considers Gilear might be the Nightmare King (”If you are you have to tell me. I’m your daughter.”). I don’t know if the NK does possession but please have the NK possess Gilear at some point. If the theme of this season is carefully filing away random off the cuff gags and making them plot relevant, please let this be one of them. Also, lol at Murph trying to roll high enough so that Riz has the knowledge to stop the shenanigans before it derails the whole campaign.

The group bestows upon Gilear the positions of Tour Manager, Social Media Manager, and Honorary Bad Kid (listed last of course).

Fig grabbed a lanyard of out Adaine’s jacket and I remembered, oh yeah, she has a very magical jacket that is only ever used for shenanigans, if at all. Imagine being so magic that you have a magic jacket that you’re always wearing that can summon anything (w/i reason) and you just kinda...forget about it most of the time.

Curious about why Fig specifically was called in to do the sacrifice and why Riz was the one who had to be sacrificed.

I hope Adaine just continues to loan out Boggy to anyone having a bad day. I love that.

“Maybe this is one of those massages that hurt.”

Really wanted Hilariel to Skype in and ask about Gilear. Her take on everything is always so funny. She is as crazy as everyone else in her family but in such a low key way.

Lol at the party being like, “Yeah, Tracker healed me just fine without any 69-ing,” which is truly an incomprehensible sentence without context and still mostly incomprehensible with context.

Don’t wanna overlook the coolness of Fig rolling double 17s (disadvantaged) to command the barlguras. Not magically, just convincing them she was still in charge of them. Very clutch.

Fabian is so much chiller about letting people on his motorbike these days. He let Gilear ride it. He let Riz ride it. He gave a blanket invitation for anyone in the area to hop on before he did donuts. I love Sophomore Fabian.

Gilear gets a nat 20 for his first roll! Riz and Kristen got two nat 20s. Fig got one, Gorgug got one (he rolled a second one that was lost with disadvantage), and Adaine rolled two but they really only count as one since it was with advantage. Fabian rolled one of each. That’s a lot of 20s for one ep!

#fantasy high #fantasy high live #dimension 20 #fantasy high spoilers #report card

71 notes · View notes

lewishamil10n · 4 years

Note

Hello! Saw you were taking prompts and I was thinking Season 5!Sam feels hopeless and guilty and is trying to make amends with his brother but Season 5!Dean doesn't trust Sam, feeling betrayed and angry says some harsh words and leaves to the bar. Sam calls him, broken and basically says goodbye and when Dean gets back to the motel Sam has a gun to his head (maybe he pulls the trigger?...)

hello, thank you for the prompt! this is set directly after “my bloody valentine” but before “swap meat.”

warning: suicidal sam, depression, hopelessness. please do not read this if any of this may be triggering. i’m putting most of it under a readmore, but stay safe!

oh, and PS: it’s a happy ending.

–

After the mess with Famine, Sam stays in the panic room for two days.

The first day, he spends in withdrawal. Dean spends this time outside his door, listening to him scream until he can’t take it anymore. Then he drinks, and pretends he can’t feel Bobby’s heavy gaze on his skin.

The second day is much quieter. Bobby wheels himself in to check on Sam when it becomes clear that Dean is too hungover to do it. Dean pretends he didn’t hear Bobby’s muttered curse as he passes by.

“How’s he doin’?” Dean asks when Bobby returns, an hour later.

“Go an’ see for yerself,” is Bobby’s grumbled reply.

“Bobby. Come on.”

The old man sighs, glaring at Dean. “He’s better’n before,” he says in the end. “Which ain’t sayin’ much, but he’s resilient. He’ll be fine. Sleeping right now.”

“Okay,” says Dean, and gets off the sofa.

“Gonna go see him?” Bobby asks, barely managing to disguise the hope in his voice.

Instead of answering, Dean heads towards the kitchen and retrieves a half-empty bottle of whiskey. He sits down at the kitchen table, pulls the nearest glass to himself, and pours himself a couple fingers.

“Idjit,” sighs Bobby. He sounds tired.

–

Dean lets Sam have a day to regain his bearings, and then finds them a ghost around 300 miles away. He ignores Bobby’s warnings about this being a bad idea, about Sam needing more rest, and bundles his too-pale brother in the car at daybreak. “We’ll be fine,” he reassures Bobby. “We always are.”

Bobby casts a glance towards Sam, hunched in the passenger seat, but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to.

“Fine,” he says in the end. “Call if you need anything.”

“Yeah,” says Dean shortly.

Sam is quiet the entire way over, and Dean doesn’t speak either. Instead he lets Zeppelin fill the silence, and ignores every half-glance Sam sends his way, especially when he breaks out the hip flask. Sam doesn’t comment, though, instead choosing to continue staring out of the window, and for that Dean is grateful. While he knows that at some point they’ll have to address what happened with Famine, he really wants to put it off as long as possible. His brain is just not up to it right now. Probably won’t be for a long time.

Well, he’ll hold out as long as Sam will.

–

The hunt is over in a day. Every muscle in Dean’s body aches from having to dig up the grave, and Sam’s probably not much better either considering he’s the one the ghost decided to toss around while Dean did the salting and burning. Then again, it’s just another day on the job, and Dean can honestly say he’s had far worse.

He’s looking forward to a hot shower and a good night’s sleep, preferably in the silence he’s gotten accustomed to, unbroken except for when it’s necessary to talk. But Sam, it seems, has a different plan – the moment they’re in the car on the way to the motel, he says, voice so quiet that Dean at first thinks he’s hallucinating, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” Dean asks. His voice sounds too loud in the silence inside the Impala.

“I’m sorry,” Sam repeats.

Dean takes a moment to rack his brains, going through the hunt in his mind and trying to recall if Sam made a mistake somewhere. He comes up blank; the hunt had been textbook-perfect, a milk run. “For what?” he asks eventually.

Sam looks away, head bowed. “For, um… the demon blood.”

“Wasn’t your fault,” Dean says shortly, hoping Sam catches the hint that he doesn’t want to talk about it right now. Maybe ever, if he can help it.

“I should have resisted,” Sam whispers. He’s still not looking at Dean, and that for some reason is irritating Dean further.

“Yeah, well,” he says, and then stops. It’s best for the both of them that this conversation does not continue, or else he’s going to end up saying something he’ll regret.

Sam catches his meaning loud and clear, and curls in on himself a little, face turned away from Dean. He stays like this all the way back to the motel, and doesn’t speak until Dean’s sitting on the foot of his bed, unlacing his boots.

“If - if you want me to go again, I will,” he says tentatively, sitting down on the foot of his own bed. He’s looking at Dean, his gaze careful, and the fact that he’s walking on eggshells pisses Dean off a little for reasons he can’t quite pinpoint.

“I didn’t say that,” he tells Sam, not looking up from his shoes.

“You don’t need to,” Sam murmurs.

“What does that mean?” Dean asks harshly, looking up. Sam ducks his head the moment he sees Dean’s eyes on him.

“I meant that you don’t need to say it,” Sam repeats, voice low. “If you want me to go, I’ll–”

“You’ll what?” Dean interrupts. “Where would you even go, Sam? You can’t just keep running off to Bobby every time you fuck up, okay?”

Even in the low light of the room he doesn’t miss how Sam flinches. Undeterred, he goes on, “And besides, last time you ran off on your own, you find out you’re Lucifer’s meatsuit, okay. Hell, now I’m thinkin’ maybe if I let you go this time you might actually say yes.”

Sam looks like Dean’s slapped him. “That’s not fair,” he says at once. “Dean, you know that’s not–”

“No?” Dean cuts in. “You’re not gonna say yes? Can you guarantee that, Sam? Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not gonna end the world all the way this time?”

“Dean,” Sam begins, pleading, but Dean’s just not in the fucking mood right now.

“I’m going out,” he interrupts, lacing his boots again and getting to his feet. “Don’t wait up.” He grabs his jacket and the car keys, ignores Sam calling his name, and slams the door after himself.

–

The thing is, though, he realizes about five beers in, it’s not entirely Sam’s fault. Not even the Apocalypse was. Hell, he’d broken the first seal himself. He’s still not sure how exactly Sam got out of the panic room, but it wouldn’t even have come to that if Dean had held out in Hell.

And this whole thing with the demon blood, that’s not all on Sam either. He’s had it in his veins since he was a baby, and then that entire cluster with Ruby manipulating him into it… and using Dean as an excuse, no less. Yeah, Dean’s made his feelings on the matter plenty clear, in ways that are not exactly pleasant, but end of the day, it’s not totally Sam’s fault. Cass is an angel and he still couldn’t resist Famine. Dean only managed to because he’s apparently already dead inside, which, yeah, fuckin’ great.

So it’s not really Sam’s fault. And he apologized. And maybe Dean needs to stop being hard on him, because he’s damn sure otherwise Sam is going to leave him. Again. And he doesn’t think he can handle that. Not after what Zachariah had shown him.

And even if it hadn’t been for that… he’s not going to admit it out loud, probably ever, but Sam’s what keeps him going these days. When everything feels so fucking hopeless he could drown in it, Sam’s the reason he gets out of bed. The kid is trying so hard to right his wrongs, to make amends, and maybe Dean should lay off him.

“I should apologize, right?” he asks the bartender.

She gives him a sideways glance. “If you want to, hon.”

“I mean, he’s my brother,” he tells her. “And he’s tryin’ so damn hard. Should probably not be so hard on him.”

“Yeah, probably,” she echoes. “You should take my advice with a grain of salt, though, love, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talkin’ ‘bout Sammy,” Dean informs her.

“Right, that’s all the information I needed to fill in the blanks,” she says dryly.

Dean rolls his eyes. “You’re not good at advice. You know what, I’m gonna go. And apologize.” He gets to his feet and puts down a few bills on the counter. “Bye, now.”

“Bye, honey,” she answers absently, already back to work.

–

Dean spends the ten minute drive back to the motel practicing his apology in his head. He should probably open with I’m sorry. That seems safest. And then he can go on in my defense… but no. Best not to make it about himself. This is about Sam.

He’s quite proud of the mini-speech he’s come up with by the time he reaches the motel. All of it evaporates from his head the moment he pushes the door open and finds Sam sitting with his Taurus in his hands, barrel pointing towards himself.

“What the hell?” he barks.

Sam jumps, the action jolting the gun in his hands, and that causes it to go off. The bullet whizzes barely an inch past Sam’s ear and lodges itself into the ceiling, letting loose a shower of plaster. Sam drops the gun like it’s on fire, breathing heavily, and Dean falls on his knees just inside the doorway, legs suddenly feeling like jelly.

“What the hell?” he repeats again.

Instead of replying, Sam gets to his feet, picks up the gun, and shoulders his way past Dean, exiting the room before Dean’s even registered what’s happening.

“Sam – no, wait!” Struggling to his feet, Dean rushes outside, heart pounding in his throat, already bracing himself for what he might find. There is nothing but white noise in his brain right now, static and screaming, and he cannot shake himself of the nauseating what if. The bullet had been so damn close to Sam’s ear. A couple more inches to the right, and no more Sam, nothing but blood and brains all over a motel room bed in Bumfuck, Shitsville.

And the last words Dean had said to him had been a fight.

It’s only a few steps from the motel room door to the Impala, but to Dean it feels like a marathon. He feels out of breath, unsteady on his feet, and seeing Sam sitting on the parking lot asphalt by the Impala’s front right wheel helps only a little. Dean’s still reeling, ears ringing from the gunshot, when he falls on his knees next to Sam.

“Where’s the gun?” he asks, not surprised to hear how hoarse he sounds. “Sam, where’s the gun?” he asks again when Sam doesn’t answer immediately, desperation heightening with every heartbeat.

Instead of a verbal answer, Sam shoves the Taurus into Dean’s hands, not looking at him. Dean looks down at it, relieved to find the safety is on. Tossing it aside – he suddenly cannot bear to look at it – Dean looks back up at his brother, taking in the sight of him.

“Are you hurt?” he asks Sam.

Sam shakes his head. He’s sitting with his legs drawn up to his chest, arms folded on his knees, and he’s trembling all over, his breathing harsh and labored. He still looks pale, like hell warmed over, and Dean’s guilt solidifies in his gut as he remembers Bobby asking them to stay so Sam can rest.

“Sam,” he says, struggling to keep his voice quiet even though it feels like he’ll go insane if he doesn’t scream. “Sam, what were you thinking?”

Sam turns his head away instead of answering.

“Sam, come on,” Dean tries again, moving closer.

“You left me there,” Sam finally whispers.

“What?”

“You left me there,” Sam repeats, voice brittle. “In the panic room. I thought - I thought you didn’t want to see me. Thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

Dean’s heart sinks. “Sammy, it wasn’t like that,” he says, voice low to match Sam’s. He can hear movement a few yards away, and he knows someone must have called the gunshot in, and so no matter how badly he wants to talk to Sam (and isn’t that ironic), they can’t do it right here. “Sammy, look, get in the car,” he tells him, fishing the keys from his pocket and handing them to his brother. Sam accepts them with shaking fingers. “We gotta leave, okay. But I swear I’ll explain in the car,” he adds.

Wordlessly Sam gets to his feet, moving around to the other side of the car. Satisfied, Dean runs back into the motel room, gathers up their – thankfully mostly packed – things, and dumps them in the back of the Impala. He leaves the Taurus lying on the ground. He never wants to see it again in his life.

Thirty miles out of town, once he’s sure no one will catch up to them, Dean pulls over. Sam has spent the entire ride silent again, utterly still in his seat as if he’s afraid to move and draw attention to himself, like he thinks Dean will kick him out if he remembers he’s there. It pulls at Dean’s heart, makes him want to put his arms around Sam and never let go, but he doesn’t think he’s allowed to do that, not just yet.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to see you,” Dean tells him, picking up where they’d left off earlier. “I just… couldn’t. I couldn’t see you like that, Sammy.”

“I was so scared,” Sam whispers, knotting his fingers in his lap, head bowed so that Dean can’t see his face. “And - and every night I have these - these nightmares, and Lucifer’s always there, and I just… I just need it to end.”

“Sammy, you can’t do that to me, man,” Dean tells him, not caring that he’s pleading.

Sam lets out a harsh little laugh. “Yeah, I know. He’d just bring me back.”

“Who, Lucifer?”

Sam nods.

“That’s not what I meant,” Dean says. “Sammy… I’m sorry, man.”

Sam looks up at that, clearly surprised. His eyes are red-rimmed, still wet from unshed tears, and his face is splotchy, nose red. The raw hope on his face is breaking Dean’s heart, and he hadn’t thought that was possible considering it’s already in pieces.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, for good measure. “I know I’ve been a dickhead the past few days, man. I just… I don’t know how to deal. With anything. Everything is spiraling so fucking fast, and then Famine was just the cherry on top of this craptastic pie, and I just… couldn’t deal.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam says again. “I tried to resist, I really did, and - and it didn’t matter. I’m never gonna stop being a bloodsucking freak–”

“Stop,” Dean says at once. “Sam, stop that right now. That’s not what you are, man. That’s the last thing you could ever be–”

“But I am,” Sam cuts in, and a tear falls. “You don’t have to coddle me, okay, I know what I am, and I won’t fall apart just ‘cause you admit it–”

“You were about to kill yourself not an hour ago!” Dean retorts.

“I wasn’t going to!” Sam replies, and then sniffles in a vain attempt to keep the tears at bay. “I thought about it, but I wasn’t gonna – and there’s no point anyway, is there, ‘cause it never fucking works–”

“Whoa whoa whoa, hold up, what do you mean it never works?” Dean’s got a bad feeling about this.

“Just that,” Sam says, wiping at his face with the heels of his hands. “He always brings me back.”

“You–” Dean’s reeling again, unanchored as he tries to process what this means. “You tried to kill yourself?”

“I succeeded,” Sam corrects with another hollow laugh. He looks away. “It didn’t take.”

“Wh–” Dean’s entire body is cold, throat closed up, chest weighed down with grief he doesn’t know how to express. “When?”

“When we were apart,” Sam admits after a heavy silence. “He’d just told me I was his vessel. I said I’d rather kill myself, and he said he’d bring me back. Figured it was worth a try anyway. If I succeeded, he doesn’t get his vessel. And if I didn’t…” Sam scoffs. “No harm, no foul, right?”

“No harm– Sam, are you serious?” Dean’s own eyes are wet now, though he doesn’t cry, not yet. “Sam, God, what if it had worked? How the hell was I supposed to know? What, you’d just let me find out through someone else? God, Bobby, what would he have done–”

“You’d all have been better off,” Sam interrupts, tone rough but firm.

“No!” Dean all but yells. “Dammit, Sam, you’re the one keeping me alive, what the fuck would I have done–”

“I keep fucking up!” Sam cuts in, voice shaking again. “I keep fucking up, and you have to keep cleaning the mess, and I don’t get why you still keep me around! I’m not worth it, Dean, I just keep dragging you down, I’m the reason the world is going to shit, and I can’t even do something as simple as die–”

Dean can’t take it anymore. If he has to hear one more word he thinks he might literally scream. Instead, he reaches out with both arms and drags Sam in, pressing him to his chest and holding on tighter the more Sam resists.

“What are you doing–”

“It’s okay, Sammy. It’s all right–”

“Nothing is all right!” Sam slumps, the fight draining out of him. He’s crying openly now, shaking in Dean’s arms, face pushed into Dean’s shoulder. “Nothing is okay, Dean, and - and I’m not okay, and I don’t - I don’t know what to do! I don’t know where to go, and I don’t know how to just fix things–”

“Oh, Sammy.” Dean tightens his embrace, putting one hand on the back of Sam’s head. “Man, you ain’t gotta carry it all alone, kid. You got me. I know I’ve been a real piece o’crap lately, but you’re still my little brother. That ain’t gonna change. And don’t you dare say I’d be better off without you,” he adds. “I meant it when I said you keep me going, man. You’re what makes me get outta bed in the mornings, Sammy. I keep tellin’ myself that if you go on and try to make things right after everything that’s happened, then I got no right to piss and moan. I said some crap, I know, but I’m sorry, Sammy, I really am. I didn’t mean it. I was tired, and pissed off, and I just… I couldn’t deal.”

“I’m so scared,” Sam hiccups into his shoulder, after almost a minute. “God, Dean, I’m so scared, ‘cause what if he’s right? What if I say yes, and ruin everything again–”

“You won’t,” Dean says firmly, running a hand gently through the tangle of Sam’s hair. “You won’t. You know why? ‘Cause you’re the strongest person I know, Sammy. Swear to God, you are. Stronger’n I am, that’s for damn sure. You’re gonna make the right choice in the end. I know you are.”

“How can you have so much faith in me?” Sam asks, voice breaking. He’s not sobbing anymore, but he’s still shaking.

“‘Cause you’re my little brother,” Dean tells him softly, unwrapping his arms from around Sam. He nudges Sam away and then takes his face in his hands, smiling when their eyes meet. “You’re all I’ve got, Sammy. You’re the one thing I believe in.”

Sam sniffles, looking away. “I don’t–”

“It’s okay,” Dean says hurriedly. “I know you’re tired, man. I know you’re not feeling up to anything right now. And that’s on me, I shouldn’t’ve pushed you before you were ready. I shouldn’t’ve done and said a lot of things that I did. Think you can forgive me for it?”

Sam attempts a small smile. “Yeah,” he whispers, tangling his fingers in the hem of Dean’s shirt. It’s a little uncomfortable sitting like this in the Impala, but neither of them care.

“Gotta promise me something, though,” Dean says, letting go of his face and pulling him back into the embrace.

“What?” Sam asks, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder.

“Swear you won’t try to kill yourself again,” Dean says quietly. “‘Cause if you do, I’ll be right behind. I mean it,” he adds.

“I swear,” Sam says after a moment of silence. Dean’s shirt is wet where Sam’s been crying into it. “I promise, Dean.”

“Good,” Dean says softly. On a whim he presses his lips to Sam’s hair, something he hasn’t done since they were both children. But Sam needs the comfort now, and even Dean’s manliness can’t contest that. “‘M not gonna live without you, man. I mean it.”

Sam exhales, long and slow, his breath warm against Dean’s skin. “Okay,” he says in the end, voice low. “I’m not gonna argue that right now, so… okay.”

“You’re not gonna argue that ever,” Dean corrects.

“We’ll see.” His head is growing heavy on Dean’s shoulder, and that makes Dean chuckle.

“Okay, sleepyhead, you know what,” he says, gently nudging Sam to sit up straight. “Let’s get you to bed. Sleep in as long as you want, man. Hell, I’ll even read you a bedtime story if you want me to.”

Sam lets out a wet laugh at that, wiping at his eyes as he settles back into his side of the bench seat. “I’ll hold you to that,” he says.

Dean grins, wiping at his own eyes. “Yeah, okay. This time you get a pass.” He puts the car back into drive and merges onto the highway, keeping an eye on Sam out of the corner of his vision.

“And Dean?” Sam says softly, when they’re rumbling along a few minutes later.

“Mm?”

“Thank you,” Sam says.

“Don’t thank me, man,” Dean tells him, and gives him a smile when he catches him looking. “We got this, okay? You and me. We’re gonna figure it out. It’s not gonna be easy, and we’re gonna have our asses handed to us, but hey. At least we’re always gonna have each other.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, and smiles back at Dean.

#sam winchester #dean winchester #supernatural #my blood valentine #samdean #my writing #mental illness cw #suicide mention cw #Anonymous

16 notes · View notes

writings-from-the-hart · 4 years

Text

Writebr Intro

Writeblr Intro Time!

Hiya! This is so overdue and I apologize for that lol. I’ve been meaning to write this but school seems to always be getting in the way of just that. Writing. But here I am finally writing this! And yes my username is a pun of my own last name but I just couldn’t resist.

So basically, I really want to surround myself with other writers and have stumbled across tons of writeblr’s (I think that’s what they’re called lol). Instantly I was in love and wanted more of what the community had to offer. I’ve been a self-proclaimed “author” or writer since my early years of grade school. I was that child in the back of the class with ADHD that couldn’t sit still (the cliche bouncing leg and always chewed down nails) and had what my mother called an “overactive imagination”. My notebooks in high school were often filled with wild stories about “galaxies far far away” or dystopias with cruel governments ruled by dictators. Now I’m in my second year of college swamped with classes about the Psychology of criminals (or I like to call the science of murder), and trying to find time to write a novel. So the struggle is real my dudes.

A little about Me:

Hana

She/Her

Pisces

Asexual

Forensic Psychology Major and English with a concentration in Writing Minor

Book hoarder

Dog Mom

Vintage AF

Low Key Emo Punk because I’m no average white girl!

History nerd (Love learning about the old wars and cultures)

Movie nerd (There’s an endless stack of DVDs in my house)

Fandoms:

The Mandolorian (or the ManDADolorian)

Star Trek

Star Wars

Hannibal

X-Files

King Falls Am

Welcome to Nightvale

Transformers (Obviously not the bad movies lol. Bumblebee is baby and must be protected always.)

Good Omens

Sherlock

Lord of the Rings

Marvel (There are so many shows and movies in this category we would be here all day if I tried to list them.)

Timeless (Not sure if the fandom is still alive after what the writers did to one of our ships lol)

DC (I’m a huge Batman geek and adore Wonderwoman, but I take the good with the bad when it comes to this fandom. Especially movie-wise anymore.)

And there’s probably more but my memory isn’t working currently.

Goals?. . . maybe:

Get my novel finished (This has literally been on my To-Do List for who knows how long.)

Meet more writers/new writers.

Improve my poetry (I suck at poetry so I bad I never let it see the light of day, so I need to work on it.)

Start my bullet journal.

Wips:

Okay by now you all know I have at least 1 Wip because I mentioned getting a freaking novel done, but just as a precaution as to what I mean by Wip or Wips. I get distracted quite easily, for some odd reason my brain absolutely loves to jump from one idea to another for no absolute reason. Like WTF dude we already have an idea we’re working on why do you keep bringing all these new ones to me like stray dogs. And like any good dog Mom or distracted writer, I want to keep all the ideas/stray dogs. So, when I say Wip I mean “Look at this cool idea I came up with” and I’ll make sure to specify which one is hogging most of my time.

Renegade: Dystopian, Thriller, Post-Apocalypse, and Science Fiction.

This is my baby. Most of my free time is dedicated to adjusting plotlines, character arc’s, fixing freaking plot holes, and other important stuff other than just plain writing. I’m hoping to finish this also monster of a story by 2020 and get it published. So big stuff!

“So tell me little wolf do you want to punish those who have wronged you?” An assassin known as the Crimson Ghost makes their way through the corrupt city-state of Ashton completing a job given to them by the Black Rose. What is a seemingly normal job though turns into something far more complicated when they stumble upon the fractions of an abandoned notebook from the past. A past the Republic is trying to desperately hide and bury no matter what. On the other side of the world in the Republic’s capital Eshar, plainly referred to as “The Prodigy” or “machine” by his superiors, Eric Coalwood has built a life upon the ashes of his family, striving to meet the high expectations set before him by his mentor General Wolfheart. However, his life falls out of its normal day to day routine when the unexpected is asked of him. Command a task force made up of the Republic’s most wanted or his life is over. Eric doesn’t need reasons for why he must do what he has to, all he needs are orders and the Republic is more than happy to give them. Either way the clock is ticking for both the Crimson Ghost and the Republic’s prodigy and with time running out they both have two options. Either get over their different beliefs concerning the Republic or allow the world to once again succumb to war but this time nobody is going to survive it. “Legends are slippery things. For the glory that coats them hides the pain, suffering and death that created them.”

The Trouville Files: Dystopian, Thriller, Post-Apocalypse, and Science Fiction.

Not my biggest priority but definitely one of them considering the plot of this story. I mainly use this wip as a reference for Renegade because it’s actually the prequel to it. Also, it’s great to use as writing practice when I’m plagued with writer’s block for Renegade or frustrated with a plot hole. So this is my double-edged sword that does a lot of good.

“Death in these black days is neither kind nor quick.” The year is 2153, the world we know is nothing more than a wasteland strewn with the dead and a sky being choked by their ashes, not glorious and thriving but desolate and starving. The Red Death, a pandemic with a steady progression and a gruesome countdown to the demise of those infected. No one outruns it or survives it. “United we stand, divided we fall.” The Allied Nations, a totalitarian superpower, promised a united people but all they gave this world was more death and destruction. The Red Death isn’t the only thing slowly killing humanity anymore, we are in the form of the War of Broken Pacts. The spark of revolution is lit, but if it will remain so is a question asked by everyone. Does it stand a chance against the iron-fisted government holding the people in shackles? “Rebel with a cause.” Genius Medical Officer for The People’s Republic, Cyprus Ramiro works day and night in search of a cure for the Red Death exterminating hundreds, at least before this war kills him first. But he is also a man on the run and the rebellion can only shelter him for so long. “Duty over pain.” Cunning Spy and Soldier, Orion Ultor is ordered by the Allied Nations to infiltrate and gather information on the ever-growing People’s Republic. In bold letters is Search and Destroy; make a ruin of the rebellion and ensure the Allied Nations remains as it should -- unquestionably in power. No matter the cost unless he wants to suffer the consequences again. “If we fall we shall rise from the ashes like a phoenix.” They should have never met, battlefields don't make good friends. It wasn't fate, it wasn't destiny, only war throwing people together. The Allied Nations is trying to stamp out something they fear, but can they before the Red Plague? Or will humanity find itself extinct.

Beyond his point is where I house my stray dogs/ideas

Hiraeth: Paranormal, Horror, Mystery, and Thriller.

Scooby-doo who?

Hiraeth means a homesickness for a home which you cannot return. That is how Arcane feels like she’ll never be home no matter how hard she tries to connect with her family. The closest she feels to being home is with her friends and in the worn leather seats of the van they all pitched in to buy. It all started out as a way to pass time and for all of them to escape their families because to be honest parents never understand, but it all turned sideways when a simple “ghost hunting trip” stirred something that was meant to remain buried. The truth never remains buried though, not really, somehow it will always creep back in ugly and twisted. Arcane has never felt “at home” but she’ll do whatever it takes to keep what she considers her family safe.

Sweet Dreams: Historical Fiction, Thriller, and Romance.

A literal dream turned into story plot and no I’m not kidding.

The Red String of Fate, The Lovers, and War. These are the three elements intertwined within the plot of Sweet Dreams but before anyone makes any assumptions this isn’t some chummy rom-com. There will be tears and heart strings may get yanked clean out because the angst is real. War and love never mix well, it leaves a sour taste in ones mouth and makes the mind question things it shouldn’t. Like is the woman in his dreams the same woman he sees in all his dreams? Constantly he somehow ends up spotting that same ruby red lipstick, honey golden eyes, and brunette hair laying in perfect curls. She’s everywhere except in his actual life. They say you and your soulmate share dreams, living proof of how intertwined souls are. She doesn’t believe in love or the idea of souls, not with the monsters roaming around the countryside and battlefield carrying assault rifles. Society tells her where her place is, but she disagrees and rather create her own destiny.

The Prophet: Paranormal, Thriller, Post-Apocalypse, and Science Fiction.

A short story I can’t seem to let go or it doesn’t want to let me go, but either way, this story has the makings for something great. It also at times seems strikingly similar to Good Omens, so don’t be surprised.

There’s no anti-christ in this story, he already has a book about himself so let’s not make another one besides there are other stories that need to be told. Such as, have you ever heard of modern day prophets and I’m not talking about those people with cardboard signs saying “the end is near!” or giant churches with people preaching about the end times. No, I’m talking about a kid with messy hair and dark circles under their eyes because sleep is no longer a choice due to migraines that plague them every night. Migraines that bring weird cryptic messages that make one question their own sanity. And what happens when strange people start asking about said migraines and messages?

Virago: Fantasy, Thriller, Historical Fiction, and Romance.

I’m not a huge fantasy reader, for some reason I can’t stay invested in them, but here I am with a fantasy story in my wips. It has mages, knights, assasination plots, and one super badass general who takes zero shit from her king. That’s right women empowerment, my dudes! I don’t really have much of a synopsis inline or a plot because this is only of those wips I let rattle around in my brain from time to time. But I will say it does give me that LOTR vibe but also Game of Thrones.

Don’t be surprised if you see my stray doggos from time to time because I will admit I love to play around with storyboards. Even if I don’t have a fully planned out plot put together for it.

And that concludes this what was supposed to be short Writeblr Intro. I hope I have peaked some of your guys’ interests because the community definitely got a hold of minee. Feel free to send me a message about anything I mentioned (even if it’s just fandom shit I don’t care) and don’t be shy. I’m a huge introvert but somehow love talking, so don’t worry it won’t be awkward and odds are I’m equally nervous about conversation lol. Also, feel free to add me to any taglist and reblog/like if you’re active and would like more Writeblr mutuals!

Happy Writing,

Writings-from-the-Hart

#writeblr #wips #writer intro #my ocs

22 notes · View notes

ericsonclan · 4 years

Text

I Could Have Danced All Night

Summary: Violet learns of her girlfriend's love of musicals.

Read on A03:

Violet was on her way back from the compound when she heard the piano playing in the music room. There was nothing unusual about that, but it did sound somewhat different from what she normally heard: instead of classical music, it sounded like song music, lilting and sweet. Louis would try new sounds from time to time, but classical music was definitely his go-to. Violet wondered what had made him change his tune today. She glanced out the window. The light was beginning to mellow, but she still had time before she needed to help with dinner. She had time to drop by. As she approached the door, Violet could hear a voice melding into Louis’ piano playing, a low, sultry alto. Was that Clementine? She didn’t sing very often, but her and Louis did like to do duets together. Still, Violet could have sworn Clem’s voice was a bit higher. Could it be Ruby? The door creaked as Violet opened it, and Louis and the singer both stopped what they were doing to turn toward the sound. From her place beside the piano, Prisha looked up and gave Violet a warm smile. “Vi, what perfect timing! Here, you gotta listen to what Louis and I have been working on today!”

“I didn’t know you were a singer,” “Well, it’s not something that comes up very often during the end of the world, but you’d better believe that I was the biggest theater nerd in junior high,” Prisha motioned to the stack of papers in front of Louis. “Louis has been helping me write down some of my favorite musical numbers so that we can perform them together. I sing them from memory, then he figures out the notes and converts them into sheet music,” “You should hear the pipes on this girl,” Louis said, swinging around to face Violet. “She can really belt it out!” “Eh, I’m still pretty rusty,” “You sounded amazing,” Prisha’s eyes widened at Violet’s statement. Shit, should she not have said that out loud? Then Prisha blushed and looked awkwardly at the floor, rubbing her hand along her neck. “Didn’t know we could be heard from the hallway. I’m glad you like it,” Violet freakin’ loved it. She had taken a seat on the music room couch, caught up in emotions she couldn’t quite describe. The music room brought back so many memories for her: days spent with Louis and Minnie, listening to them compose music together and applauding after Minnie performed each song. Sometimes Sophie and Tenn would bring their art supplies in and sit on the floor drawing while the group whiled away the hours. Violet hadn’t spent much time in the room over the last few years. She’d have thought being in here again and listening a duet would only bring sadness, but looking at Prisha standing happily beside the piano, pointing out a correction Louis needed to make, this just felt… different. “Would you like to hear us for real this time?” Prisha asked, a nervous smile flittering across her lips. “That would be awesome,” “Wonderful! This is a personal favorite of mine – I’m sure you know it. Maestro, take it away!” Louis’ fingers began to dance along the keys and a lively tune rang out from the piano. Violet wasn’t familiar with it, but she liked the tune. It was an old-sounding song, like something you’d see in a black and white movie. Prisha began to sing, her voice soft and lilting.

“Bed, bed! I couldn't go to bed My head's too light to try to set it down Sleep, sleep! I couldn't sleep tonight Not for all the jewels in the crown…”

Violet was entranced. She never would have guessed that her girlfriend, the pragmatic inventor, would have such an artistic bent hidden up her sleeve. She was good too. Not that Violet was unbiased, but there was something in the warm cadence of her voice and her lively delivery that would charm anyone. Prisha swung her arm out grandly, getting caught up in the flow of the song as she entered what must be the chorus.

“I could have danced all night I could have danced all night And still have begged for more I could have spread my wings And done a thousand things I've never done before…”

Prisha began to move away from the piano and make her way toward Violet. Louis turned his eyes from the music for a second, grinning mischievously at Violet. Was this all some sort of plan? Violet looked up at Prisha for confirmation. No, it seemed Prisha was just getting caught up in the feeing of the moment, her eyes closed in bliss as she did a whimsical twirl. Opening her eyes, she reached out her hand to Violet and quickly pulled her to her feet. Taking Violet’s hand in her own, Prisha placed it on her own shoulder, then grabbed Violet’s other arm and placed it on her waist. Wrapping her good arm around Violet’s waist, Prisha proceeded to gently tug her along as they began to dance. Was this really happening? Violet looked up at her girlfriend, feeling as though her mind was in a haze, struggling to direct her body to keep up with the events playing out in front of her. Prisha beamed back at her, nodding down towards their feet before repeating the chorus of the song.

“I could have danced all night I could have danced all night And still have begged for more…”

The feet. Right, she should watch Prisha’s to get the steps down. It looked like a 1,2,3 step was done at each point and that they continued to make the same square pattern again and again, with Prisha’s arm guiding them around the room as they traced and retraced the pattern. Prisha made it all so easy, gliding across the floor effortlessly. Violet was sure she was dragging her feet and slowing them down, but looking up at Prisha’s face and the pure joy that shone in her eyes, all Violet could do was smile up at her and follow along.

Finally the song drew to a close, the chorus repeating one more time as Prisha reached a crescendo, taking Violet’s hand in hers and gently spinning her round in a spiral that ended with both of them contently collapsing on the couch. Prisha laughed breathlessly as she looked over at Violet. “Well, what did you think? Not a bad rendition, right?” Violet had no words. All she could do was mutely nod. Prisha gazed at her wistfully, then raised Violet’s hand to her lips, kissing it tenderly.

This girl would be the death of her. Violet felt like she was melting into the couch. Louis chuckled. “That was just about the cutest shit I’ve ever seen,” Prisha rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Louis, can we have the room?” “But of course!” Louis jumped up, tidying his music sheets and tucking them inside the piano bench. “This was seriously the best. Any time you have another song you want written down, I’m your man, ‘kay?” “Thanks, Louis. I appreciate it,” “Later!” Louis threw the girls a casual salute as he scurried out the door. Prisha and Violet turned back to each other, both curled up casually against the couch. “So…” Prisha said, tracing a finger along Violet’s shoulder. “Louis tells me you’re quite the singer yourself,” “He’s a liar,” “So you don’t sing?” “I do… it just sucks,” “Oh, c’mon!” Prisha lightly slapped Violet’s shoulder. “I’ve known you long enough now that I can tell when you’re selling yourself short,” “It’s really weak,” “Doesn’t mean it’s not lovely,” Prisha lay her head against the couch cushions, making doe eyes at Violet. “Will you sing for me? Pretty please?” Damn, singing made Prisha flirty. “I…” Violet faltered. “Not today. But someday,” “As long as that someday’s soon,” The girls watched the sun set through the window, silent and beautiful. Finally, Violet stirred. “I need to go. I’m on veggie prep tonight,” “I can help you,” “Only if you want,” “Nothing would please me more,” Prisha stood up and offered Violet a hand up. As they exited the piano room, Prisha flashed a bright smile Violet’s way. “So, what do you think? Do I make a convincing Audrey Hepburn?” “Who?” “Audrey Hepburn! You don’t know her? She was the lead in the film production of My Fair Lady!” “What’s that?” Prisha stopped dead in her tracks. “That’s literally the musical I was singing from right now. You don’t know it?” Violet shrugged. “I didn’t get exposed to that stuff much growing up,” Prisha sighed dramatically. “Oh, Violet, you sweet summer child. There is so much I have yet to teach you,” “Well then, teach away!” Violet did her best attempt at a smirk. “Oh believe me, I will! Just you wait, just you wait…”

#twdg prisha #twdg privet #twdg violet #twdg louis #i could have danced all night #musicals #twdg #the walking dead game #fanfic

5 notes · View notes

vamish · 4 years

Text

The Order

So recently The Order season 2 has come onto Netflix so I have decided to compare my thoughts and feelings of the characters from season 1 into their growth and whatever on season 2

First we’ll start off with my babies and end it with the trash [any negative options of characters do NOT stretch to the actors themselves]

Randall

Season one

He is such a cute adorable soul, I love his loyalty and adoration fr his friends hes honestly one of the best written characters on the show, he is the definition of baby

Season two

we got to see more of a stubborn side to him this season, he still shows his undying loyalty to not only his friends but the cause. It actually hurt to see him so upset when that bitch ruby used him. He still is baby but he bi baby, that kiss with Hamish really made me realise that hes shippable with anyone and everyone.

What I would like to see for him in season three;

I would love for him to slowly start to accept magic more, and to see him use it a bit more, and for him to find someone that genuinely cares for him, whether its Gabrielle or another character I just want my baby to be happy.

Hamish

Season one

I never really had much of an opinion on Hamish, at the beginning of season one I thought he was a bit bland, but then he really grew on me, the way he spoke about Cassie and his choice of beer pong to settle group choices, my mans not an alcoholic, hes a alcohol aficionado and my son. His little look at Vera at the end gave me a bit of feels

Season two

I cant not start this without Randall and Hamish’s kiss, I love it, a love story for the ages, either both Hamish and Randall are bi or somewhere in the community or they’re so solid in their heterosexuality that they really do not care and I’m cool with either [I’d more so believe Randall is the first option than the second]. But Hamish and Vera are also a power couple, I’m not sure the age difference but Vera is older right? But I love Hamish’s belief in Vera and The Order its such a big difference from the Hamish that we first met that wanted to take them down. I would love to drink one of Hamish’s concoctions.

What I would like to see for him in season three;

I would love for Hamish to progress more with Vera, and for him and the other wolves to learn more about their wolves and the history.

Jack

Season one

In the first season Jack was literally just a puppet, he was always being controlled by something or someone, the main one being his granddad, the relationship was so broken between them I wish we had gotten a real bonding moment the closest we had was either when Jack was dying because of silver back and at that point he was barely conscious or when we saw his pops trying to avenge jacks and his mothers death and Jack had to watch him explode. I really didn't feel any real emotion except a little twinge because I knew that Jack was upset. Jack himself wasn’t inherently a good or bad character his biggest flaw is that he literally throws himself into things because of emotion. Was super happy when he woke up after dying and Randall came and gave him a hug

Season Two

This has to be said Blonde Jack grew on me and low key was sexy as fuck no one can tell me otherwise [Thank you Gabrielle]. I love Jack I really do but his biggest fucking flaw is his feelings for one bitch that can not be named right now. He did make some big mistakes this season but he’s only a teen [Hes like what nineteen now?] but hes really willing to die for his team and and confirmed Jack has soft lips, my baba uses lip balm.

What I would like to see for him in season three;

I would love for him to find all of the rest of the stolen objects, for people *AHEMALYSSA* to stop blaming him for everything ‘oh there is one cloud in the sky must be jacks fault’

Lilith

Season one

Now again I was not sure on Lilith just because when they introduced us to her character, I thought she was very one dimensional by that I mean they were just going to try and pass her off as a strong female by making her blood thirsty but within one episode I went from not liking her to loving her my little ‘Kilith’ a beautifully murderous soul, her reaction to her finding out that her at Alyssa were best friends was brilliant. Her and Randall's kiss was sort of unexpected but I was cool with it I thought they would have at least had it go somewhere lmao.

Season two

Lilith and Nicole two beautiful women and they love each other, tell me I’m wrong, I liked the bob however I was not a big fan of the blue streaks, Lilith and Jacks moment before they went to the last fight against Rogwan, her sacrifice to save Jack, I love that girl so much. I’m upset that she was in barely any episodes this season I would have loved to see more of her relationship dynamic with Nicole.

What I would like to see for her in season three;

To see flashbacks of her in the demon realm and her badasserly survival, to see her slowly making her return back into the human realm. And for her to also find someone who truly cares for her, 100% would prefer a female.

Vera

Season One

I liked Vera from when she decided that Jack was coming to belgrave, I love her character because she reminds me of Fallon and her makeup is always on point.

Season two

Her fight for her position to be grand magnus, she was always one of the most calculated characters because everyone was constantly trying to tear her down and take way her title especially that bitch Kepler. Her and Hamish are hot AF power couple for the win

What I would like to see for her in season three;

GIVE HER HER MAGIC BACK!

Gabrielle

Season One

Shes good at what she does to bad she always was working against my faves.

Season Two

It was harder to hate her this season I loved the Karaoke scene, she wasn’t perfect but she tried [still couldn't like her but that’s due to my own personal hang ups

What I would like to see for her in season three;

A redemption arc and not one that has her redemption based around Randall and for him, I really hope they give her a good one. I beg

Alyssa

Season One

She started off so well on the first episode, what happened, she has an unhealthy loyalty and what seams like some sly daddy issues her and Jack were cute though

Season Two

What. The. Fuck. First I’ll be nice that bitch can sing. Alyssa is a stupid irrational character, she leaves Jack to fight on his own, and doesn't help just stands there, tries to cut of her bond with him after she has sex with him for the first time. She was a very self centred character this season, some how everything was Jacks fault, but she was still adamant she had feelings for him? She was willing to kill her mentor and someone shes known for years for some random girl shes met, she believed everything that was said and didn't even have the audacity to let Vera explain and then took away her magic, who gave her the right, I know she was upset over her own magic but Vera would have helped her fix her powers another way. Again she was very self centred and I wish that she actually tried to understand and work with everyone and she wouldn’t have died, but oh well.

What I would like to see for her in season three;

Either shes a completely new person when she gets revived for she can stay dead I ain’t got time for her foolishness anymore, some people have real issues not her made up problems.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk

#theorder #the order netflix #hamish duke #vera stone #jack morton #randall carpio #lilith bathory #alyssa drake #gabrielle dupres #the order season 2

2 notes · View notes

korora12 · 5 years

Text

Ladybug Week Day 1 - First Date

Day 2

Word Count: 5103

Finally, after years of scrimping and saving every single penny she could spare while working security for Beacon Enterprises, Ruby had finally managed to pull together enough money to buy her own spaceship. Crescent Rose wasn’t a huge ship; she had enough room for a small crew of four to eight people and a decent amount of storage space, but her real strength was her faster-than-light engine that made her perfect for life on the edge of known space, far from the network of wormholes that linked the Galactic Confederacy of Kingdoms. All she needed now was a crew. Ruby’s sister, Yang, had already signed on as her pilot, but she still needed at least two more people for a full crew. Fortunately, Yang had been around the block a few times and knew some folks who might be interested.

Yang had thrown together some surprisingly professional-looking dossiers on a number of people, all of whom could be good crewmates, but Ruby could tell she was pushing for two in particular. The first was Weiss Schnee, former heiress of the SDC, a corporation with a less than impressive reputation of weapons dealing, employee abuse, and anti-synthetic discrimination, amongst other things. Also, she was Yang’s on-again-off-again girlfriend. The second candidate was Blake Belladonna.

Ruby recalled Blake’s dossier again. The first thing that had caught her eye was that she was a Fully Automated UnNetworked Intelligent Synthetic, or FAUNIS for short. Also known as a robot, if you wanted to be politically incorrect. The cat ears atop her head were a dead giveaway; at first all FAUNIS had been built with a single, visible animal feature to distinguish them from humans. Part of it was meant to prevent them from pretending they weren’t FAUNIS in public society and part of it was to degrade them and put them on the level of lesser animals. At least, that was what the records of the company that designed and created them said.

That had been almost two centuries ago, though, and since then FAUNIS had been recognized as citizens and given full rights. The animal traits had stuck around, but now they were a symbol of pride and uniqueness, intentionally separating themselves from the humans who had once created them.

Now, Ruby didn’t have any problem with having a FAUNIS on her crew, but she knew there were some who would object. FAUNIS citizenship had only been granted a few years before Ruby was born, and some people, especially those living on the outskirts of society, were slow to accept change.

Still, Blake came highly recommended by Yang, so Ruby was willing to give her a shot. All that was left was to meet and interview her.

Ruby looked up at the building she stood before and did her best to suppress an eye twitch. Yang had arranged the meeting, assuring Ruby that she didn’t need to worry about anything because the owner of the place owed her a favor. She’d failed to mention that said place was one of the fanciest restaurants on Vale.

Glancing down at her usual outfit (blouse, skirt, boots, gloves, and knee-length coat, all in red and black), Ruby suddenly felt underdressed.

But there was no time to change, and Ruby honestly didn’t think she owned anything nice enough for this place anyway, so all she could do was muscle up and head inside.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Blake didn’t know much about her potential new employer going into things. She knew she was Yang’s sister, but further information was scarce. Still, it said something that their first meeting was to be held at The Solstice, so Blake had tried to dress for the occasion.

Ruby Rose, it seemed, hadn’t bothered to do the same, which had the unintended, or so she assumed, consequence of making her very easy to spot. She looked… dusty? It was a strange descriptor, but it was the first one that popped into Blake’s mind once she got a good look at her. Not in a bad way, she just looked like she would be more at home in the dirt and grime of the outside world than she did sitting in a chair surrounded by people in fancy dress. If pressed, Blake would say she looked to be in her late-20’s, but she was notoriously bad at guessing the age of humans.

She did her best to walk confidently as a waiter led her to Ruby’s table. She’d never been in a restaurant so extravagant before. It was quieter than similar places she’d been, with a violinist and pianist duo performing live for the patrons. A quick survey revealed that she was the only FAUNIS in the building.

Ruby stood when they got close and held out her hand. “You must be Blake. I’m Ruby Rose. But you already knew that, because Yang probably told you. Um, it’s really nice to meet you, and I hope we can work well together. Not that that’s a guarantee yet, this is still the interview phase, but–”

Blake took the offered hand and shook it, cutting off the woman’s awkward outburst. “It’s nice to meet you too.” From up close, the one thing that caught her attention the most was Ruby’s eyes. They were silver, a rare color amongst humans, and she couldn’t help but stare. She watched the eyes as they ran down her own form, then back up and off to the side.

Ruby gestured at the table, a bit of red entering her cheeks. “Let’s sit.” The waiter gave them their menus, then quietly disappeared.

Ruby began looking through her menu, a furrow slowly appearing in her brow. “No pictures or descriptions? I’m not even sure what some of things are. Sorry if this place is too much; I would have chosen something more low-key myself, but Yang set it up and I didn’t realize until I got here what kind of restaurant this was.”

Blake let herself smile. Knowing Yang, she probably had ulterior motives for doing something like that. “I’ll admit, it doesn’t really line up with the job I’m being offered.”

“Right! The job!” Ruby looked up, then paused. “You haven’t opened your menu. Aren’t you going to eat?”

Crap. Blake had gotten so distracted watching Ruby that she’d forgotten. She ran her finger along the laminated edge of the menu in contemplation. She still wasn’t completely set on taking this job, not until she had a better idea of what was expected of her and, more importantly, what kind of person she’d be working for. The fact that she was Yang’s sister put points in her favor, but one could never be too sure. Perhaps this was a good opportunity for a test?

“I’m only a robot,” Blake said, trying not to let the sarcasm color her voice too much. The word tasted sour on her tongue, but she forced herself to continue. “I don’t eat. Just plug me into a generator and I’ll be fine.”

Now Ruby looked offended. “You’re not the first FAUNIS I’ve met, Blake. I know you don’t need to eat, but I also know you can. And every FAUNIS I’ve talked to about it prefers eating to not.” Her face shifted from offended to considering. “Still, if you’d prefer, we can take this interview somewhere else. I think there’s a park nearby.”

Blake shook her head and opened her menu, glad that Ruby had passed her first test. “No, this is fine.”

Silence settled over the pair as they took their time deciding on their orders. Moments before the silence became awkward, Ruby glanced across the table and half-muttered, “It might not be my place to say, and I’m sorry if I’m overstepping any boundaries here, but I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t call yourself that word. It makes me uncomfortable to hear it.”

Blake quirked an eyebrow. Ruby was right, it really wasn’t her place to ask that of her. “Ashamed of your people’s history?”

Ruby shrugged one shoulder. “That’s part of it, I guess. But like I said, you’re not the first FAUNIS I’ve known. I’ve seen some pretty terrible things firsthand, things I'd rather not be reminded of.”

Blake recognized the look of far-off guilt in her companion’s eyes. She hadn’t expected that from her. She wasn’t about to apologize, but she supposed she could offer some concession. “I’m not fond of the word myself,” she agreed. Considering it traced its origins to an old word for slave, she could only wonder why anyone would be.

At that moment the waiter approached to take their orders and the topic was dropped.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

“So, the job,” Ruby began, trying her best to focus on the interview, and not on the gorgeous woman in a slim black dress sitting across from her. It was difficult, though, to not be distracted by the gleam of her eyes, a deep gold that practically shone in the low lighting, nor by the way her long, red nails traced patterns on her jawline whenever she was lost in thought. “Yang probably told you some stuff about it already.”

Blake nodded. “Freelance mercenary work on the frontiers of space.”

“One place in particular,” Ruby corrected. “The Draconis system. It’s a binary system that’s becoming really popular as a waypoint between Kingdom space and uncharted space. Apparently it’s close to a bunch of other systems that show promise for habitability or resources, so a lot of spacers, explorers, and surveyors pass through, which means lots of potential for escort jobs. Plus there’ll be people planetside trying to set up new towns, and those kinds of people always need work done.”

“Sounds like the kind of place that won’t be frontier in another decade or two.”

“Maybe,” Ruby agreed. “But there’s opportunity there now.”

Blake ran her finger in circles over the table. Ruby hoped that meant she was considering the offer, and not that she was already bored. “So when you say mercenary, you really mean odd-jobber.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Ruby trailed off. “I mean, I’m sure there’ll be some fighting. If nothing else, there’s always Grimm.” Grimm were an unfortunate reality of space travel, but they made steady work for anyone with the know-how and tools to fight them.

“Of course,” Blake agreed. “So what would my role on your crew be?”

“Yang and I grew up in a small town on Patch.” Ruby gestured vaguely upwards, where the moon in question would be hiding behind the roof. “It was in the country, sure, but that’s not the same as where we’re headed now. But I’m told you have experience living on the frontier.”

Blake nodded. “That’s true. I spent almost half my life out there.”

“That’s what Yang said. She didn’t give me any details, though,” Ruby prodded, fishing for more information.

Blake leaned back in her seat. “As I’m sure you can guess, I’m originally from Kuo Kuana. I’m a member of Generation Prime, the first generation of FAUNIS made after our liberation. My…” She tapped a finger against her cheek. “Parents? Valean doesn’t have the best word for it. How much do you know about FAUNIS childhoods?”

“Well,” Ruby said, “I know it’s a lot shorter than a human’s. You’re made in factories, pre-programmed with a lot of things humans have to learn, like language and object permanence. Most of your childhood is spent learning about how the world works, like culture and physics and social interaction. I’m guessing your parents are the people who raised you?”

“Sort of,” Blake agreed. “Culture back home is very community-focused. An entire town or village will come together to raise new FAUNIS as a group, but most of them were more mentors than anything else. My parents were the ones who took me in and shared their home with me.

“They were involved a lot in building and spreading FAUNIS civilization and trying to claim political independence for the Menagerie System. So I spent a lot of my childhood in the middle of nowhere, helping build new towns and villages from the ground up. It’s hard work and I’m pretty familiar with the challenges it raises.”

“Excellent!” Ruby declared, perhaps a bit too loudly. “That expertise is why I want you on my ship.”

Blake made a wordless noise of understanding, then settled into silence. Ruby wasn’t ready to push her on joining just yet, they had plenty of time before a decision had to be made. Before that happened, she wanted to get to know this woman a bit better. “So it sounds like you were doing good work back in Menagerie. What brought you out here?”

If Ruby hadn’t been watching Blake’s hands so much, she wouldn’t have noticed when they briefly tensed. After a moment, she began speaking slowly. “Some friends and I disagreed with the elders about how best to fight for our independence. We gathered together and took our protests to Vytal and, when the Confederation capital wasn’t enough, to the capital planets of the four Kingdoms. That’s how I ended up on Vale.”

“I heard about some of those protests,” Ruby said. “Certain terrorist groups notwithstanding, it was pretty impressive what you were guys were doing and the progress you were making. Why stop?”

Blake took her time answering that. “It wasn’t working. Things weren’t improving fast enough. Some of my friends wanted to change our methods, but they were going too far and when I couldn’t convince them to stop, I backed out. I spent some time homeless, with nothing but a portable, solar-powered generator for food. Then I met Yang, and she helped me find a job and a place to stay.”

Yang hadn’t ever told Ruby that part of the story. Granted, Ruby had never asked, but she always assumed the two had met through her work or at a bar or something.

Ruby considered her answer carefully before continuing. “So, why this job, then? After everything you’ve done, it’s kind of a change of pace to disappear to the edge of known space.”

“Honestly?” Blake folded her arms on the table and leaned forward. “Because I don’t know what I want anymore. I used to think I knew the best way to fight; that if we just passed one more law or held the right police officer or official responsible for their actions, we’d eventually win. But I don’t know anymore. I still care about the fight, I still want to make things better for my people, but I’ve realized I have no idea how to do that. I think I need to take a break from it all, get some distance. Then maybe I can come back to the problem later with new answers.”

It made sense, if you looked at it from the right angle, but Ruby wasn’t convinced there wasn’t more to it. Still, she knew when not to push a subject, so instead of pushing for more, she said, “I’ve been told the frontier is a good place to go to find answers about yourself.”

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Blake wasn’t sure why she was being so open with Ruby. It was easy, somehow, to just be honest with this woman. Almost scarily easy. She changed the subject before she said too much.

“What about you, Captain? What drives someone to spend all her money on a ship, all so she can fly to the middle of nowhere looking for the possibility of work?”

“Well,” Ruby said, “it sounds like fun, doesn’t it? I mean, I’ve always wanted to help people. I used to read stories about dashing rogues, bounty hunters and heroic pirates who swooped in to save the day, only to fly off into the sunset afterwards. I’d imagine I was them, wandering around until I found someone who needed help. I worked at Beacon for a while, fighting Grimm and the occasional raiding party, and that helped people. Mostly rich people, though. Working a weekly shift on a space station orbiting a wormhole doesn’t exactly feel very heroic, you know? I think I can do more good out on the edge of the unknown, where the world is mysterious and magical and anything can happen.”

She wanted to be a hero? It was a noble goal, but still, “The world isn’t kind to heroes. Sometimes you do everything you can to make the world a better place, but it isn’t enough. No matter how hard you try to stand up or stand out, the world will keep beating you back into the hole it put you in.” Blake’s pulse was racing. She could be ruining her chances at getting this job, a job she still wasn’t sure she wanted, but she couldn’t stop the words from escaping her. It felt like she’d been bottling these things up for years, and now this woman, this girl, wanted to talk about heroics like it was so easy. “It’s not fun or romantic. It takes the effort of ages to make meaningful change. Heroes carry the weight of the world on their backs until it breaks them, heart, body, and soul. Then that weight will twist you into something no one will recognize anymore.”

Her hands hurt. She glanced down to where they rested on the table. A light bronze fluid leaked slowly from where her nails pressed tightly into her palms.

Ruby reached for her hands, pausing a hair’s breadth away. A moment of hesitation passed in silence before she gently grasped them, turned them upwards, and unfurled her fingers. Blake let her do so without resistance.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t try.” Ruby began dabbing Blake’s palms with her napkin, cleaning her outer layer as it stitched itself back together. “I know real life rarely lines up with stories. I know change usually comes slowly, and isn’t always for the better. I know trying your best doesn’t always mean you’ll succeed. But there’s value in the effort. Sometimes it takes coordinated effort from millions of people to make things better, but sometimes it just takes one person. Heroes exist, but they aren’t the giant, glorious figures that stories paint them as. A hero is someone who does the right thing in the right place at the right time.” Blake’s palms were clean and the only sign of her injuries was one very dirty napkin, but Ruby still hadn’t let go. “That’s what I want, to be where I can do the right thing and know it’ll leave an impact. And yes, I want to have fun in the meantime. The universe is a beautiful place full of amazing things and I want to appreciate that. But at the end of the day, I’ll always pick helping someone in need over enjoying myself.”

Ruby’s hands were covered in hardened calluses that spoke of experience and toil and lent weight to her words. Even so, it felt like the two of them were having different conversations. She didn’t understand where Blake was coming from any more than Blake understood Ruby.

And yet, the way she talked sparked familiarity. She sounded like he did, back before he changed. She had a powerful passion tampered beneath a layer of certainty about how the world worked. She had the answers and she knew it. But the answers were different this time, and Blake found herself preferring Ruby’s definition of a hero over the one she’d learned so long ago.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Blake was impressive. For all that she tried to deride heroism, she was already a hero in Ruby’s books. By her own admission, she’d spent most of her life fighting for FAUNIS rights in whatever ways she could. All the while, Ruby had been living a mostly comfortable life in one of the nicest cities in the known galaxy. Ruby could only dream of being half as amazing.

The pair sat together quietly, Blake seemingly lost in thought and Ruby unsure what else to say, until the waiter returned with their food.

The conversation that followed was much lighter than their pre-meal talk. They shared stories and anecdotes from their past, starting with Yang, who was a good source of stories for anyone who knew her, and continuing on from there to talk about other friends they’d known. They discovered a shared love of reading and discussed, and eventually argued, the finer points of a book they’d both read. Blake even returned to the topic of her family after a while, and Ruby returned the gesture by talking about her father and uncle, who’d raised her ever since her mother died when she was young.

It was fun, and Ruby found herself enjoying the night far more than she expected from a job interview. Blake was surprisingly easy to talk to, despite how reserved she’d initially appeared.

So of course, just when things were going well, someone had to show up and ruin it.

As the night crept onward and the pair’s meals slowly disappeared, a man and his date were seated at the table next to them, both dressed to the nines. The two had been a bit rude to the waiter while ordering, but for the most part they’d been quiet enough that Ruby hadn’t been bothered by them.

Then, when their plates were nearly empty, the man reached over and grabbed Blake’s arm. “Excuse me,” he said, plastic smile pinned to his face, “could you go tell the kitchen staff to hurry with our food? We’ve been waiting for twenty minutes already.”

Blake blinked in surprise, jarred from her tale of a particularly memorable protest she’d taken part in. Ruby’s stomach churned preemptively in disgust at what she was about to witness, while Blake grabbed the man’s wrist and pulled it off her. “Ask a waiter, I don’t work here.”

Ruby was impressed at how calm Blake sounded.

“Don’t give me that.” The man’s smiled slipped off, an ugly sneer taking its place. “I can see that you’re taking a break to talk with your friend, but you still have a job to do. It’s time to get back to work.”

“I told you,” Blake responded, ice creeping into her voice, “I don’t work here. I’m a customer.”

“Liar!” the man shouted. Then he did the unthinkable. His hand lashed out and grabbed Blake by her cat ear. Ruby, already rising from her chair to interfere, froze in shock. “There’s no way they’d let someone like you in here. You don’t even need to eat! The only way you’d get in here is as an employ—”

Blake’s shock wore off faster than Ruby’s, and she chose to respond with her fists. Said response left the man on the ground, dazed and leaking blood from his nose. “DON’T,” she added, “touch me.”

The man’s date moved to interfere, but Ruby suddenly found she could move again, so she grabbed their wrist and twisted hard.

“What is going on?!” A woman in a manager’s uniform marched towards them.

“That thing attacked me!” the man shouted from his spot on the floor. “I want it fired, no, scrapped!”

The woman gave Blake a once-over, then turned back to the man. “She doesn’t work here. She’s a customer.”

The man’s face turned so red it almost matched the blood on his upper lip. “Covering for your co-worker, huh? I’ll have you know I’m friends with the owner of this place. I can have you all fired!”

The woman’s already unpleasant gaze hardened even more. “I am the owner and I’ve never met you before in my life.” She pointed her finger towards Ruby. “Meanwhile, her sister is a friend of mine, which makes these two very important customers whose night you’ve just ruined. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

If the man got any angrier, Ruby suspected he’d burst a blood vessel. “How dare you treat me like this! Don’t you know who I am?”

“No,” the owner replied. “And I don’t care. But if you don’t leave now, you can tell the police who you are while they arrest you for trespassing.”

After a moment spent glaring at everyone he could see – Blake, Ruby, the manager the wait staff, the other customers who were watching silently – the man picked himself up and stormed towards the door. Ruby released his date and they silently followed.

The music, which had cut out at some point during the altercation, started up again. No one stood. No one applauded. Everyone just turned their heads away from the show and back to their meals.

“I am so sorry about that,” the owner said, bowing at the waist. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Blake shook her head, ears flat against her skull. “Let’s go, Ruby.”

Ruby was glad Blake was including her, that she hadn’t walked out and left on her own. She glanced at their mostly-finished meals. “Do you want to get a to-go container?”

“No. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“I understand,” the owner said. “Please, tell Yang I still owe her. A night like this doesn’t make up for anything.”

Ruby promised she would, then turned to follow Blake, who was already making for the door.

Once they were outside Blake sighed, tension slowly draining from her frame. The two stood together by the entrance, faint music from within occasionally drowned out by the sound of passing cars.

Blake was the first to speak. “Pretty terrible way to end the night, huh?”

“Yeah,” Ruby agreed. Things had been going so well, too, right up until that jerk showed up. Blake didn’t just interest Ruby as a potential crewmate anymore. She was a fascinating woman in her own right and Ruby had been enjoying getting to know her. For the last few years nearly all her time and money had been put towards saving up for her ship and preparing to leave Vale. Nights like this were rare, and the company even rarer. Ruby found that she didn’t want to go home just yet. “It doesn’t have to be.”

Blake glanced down at her, a question in her eyes. Standing next to her now, Ruby realized for the first time how much taller Blake was than her.

“The end, I mean!” Ruby tore her brain away from distracting thoughts. “It doesn’t have to be the end. I’m pretty sure there’s a bar nearby that serves amrita.” Her hands had a bad habit of flailing every-which-way when she got nervous and she could already feel them starting to fidget. “We could head there. You could finish the story you started. I mean, I understand if you just wanted to go home after that. And the interview’s basically over anyway. The job’s yours if you want it, but you don’t have to decide yet, you can get back to me tomorrow. But I was having a lot of fun talking with you and I kind of didn’t want the night to end just yet and—”

Blake interrupted her by gently grabbing one of her waving arms and wrapping her own around it. “That sounds lovely. Lead on?”

Ruby felt her face warm as she nodded.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Amrita was a magnetic fluid with zero nutritional value and, usually, no effect on humans. The qedem of Mistral and the materia of Atlas both found the drink more annoying than anything, as it set off their natural magnetoreception. The only people who regularly drank it were FAUNIS, for whom it had an affect similar to alcohol in humans, so any bar that served amrita drinks was usually assumed to be FAUNIS-friendly. Blake was pleasantly surprised to find such a bar in the same upscale commercial area as the Solstice.

The place was cleaner than most dives she’d spent time in, but just as loud and just as rowdy; she’d had to adjust her hearing settings before she’d even stepped in the door. She was also pleased to find she wasn’t the only FAUNIS in the room anymore. The two of them found a spot at the bar between a boy with rabbit ears and a girl with a snake tail.

The drinks helped relax her and, with a little prompting from Ruby, she soon found herself venting her frustrations to a captive audience. Spirits flowed and spirits rose and Blake was, once again, enjoying her night.

Her mind was cloudy by the time she and her drinking partner stumbled outside, supporting each other’s weight while trying to call for cabs. She knew already that she wouldn’t be able to remember everything that had happened that night, but she hoped she’d remember the important things. Like how Ruby had jumped to her aid in the restaurant. Or how easily and often she smiled.

It worried Blake how much Ruby reminded her of him at times. Blake had been the one to start the violence in the restaurant, but Ruby had joined in easily, clearly familiar with the concept. And sure, Ruby had been kind to her. She was attentive and open-minded and intelligent. But he’d been all those things once, too.

But still, there was something different about her.

With the two of them so close, neither fully able to stand on their own, Blake couldn’t help but notice that Ruby smelled like roses. Once upon a time, that scent would’ve brought with it memories of violence and undirected rage. But now, faded by time and distance, thoughts of that man didn’t hurt as much. Instead, being with this woman left her feeling calm and safe.

There was still a decision to be made. Except, looking back over the night, Blake realized she’d already made it, even if she couldn’t say exactly when.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” Ruby murmured as she helped Blake into the first cab. “Especially with the karaoke machine. I didn’t expect you to be into deathcore, but you rocked it.”

Blake’s motor functions were on the fritz at the moment, but in the process of getting her seatbelt on, she managed to slip her hand into Ruby’s. “Me too. This was the best night I’ve had in years. Even with what’s-his-face.”

Ruby grinned and Blake cursed the amrita for messing with her coolant system because her head kept getting warmer. “I hope you take me up on my offer. I really don’t want this to be goodbye.”

Ruby squeezed her hand once more before squeezing out of the car and closing the door.

“Wait!” Blake shouted, rolling down the window. “One last question before I go, Captain.” A glimmer of hope lit up Ruby’s eyes. “When do we leave?”

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

A/N: Just so y’all know, going forward, I decided to set all of my entries for ladybug week in the same alternate universe as a continuous story, which I’ve taken to calling The Last Frontier (I’ll be putting all of these on my FF and AO3 accounts too, eventually). Special thanks to @ladyvallhalla for starting the conversation that led to me coming up with this idea.

#rwby #ruby rose #blake belladonna #ladybug #ladybug (rwby)#ladybugweek #fanfiction #my writing #The Last Frontier #space au #Ladybugweek2k19

48 notes · View notes

zerolympiustrife · 5 years

Note

sequel to jaunes semblance shenanigans!

Ok.

————————————————————

Anonymous asks: An Arc’s Aura Amplifying Adventures (RWBY)

————————————————————

*Ruby walks down the hallway, pouting*

Jaune: Hi, Rubes! What’s the matter?

Ruby (frowning): There was this limited sale at the store selling the most amazing cookie ice cream sandwiches, but I was too late! I tried to get them yesterday as well, but they were already gone! I only have until tomorrow morning to get them…

Jaune: Well then…what if I used my semblance to increase your speed, so you can grab them as fast as you can?

Ruby (eyes widened): You…you really think that’ll work?

Jaune: Hey, if I can amplify my head and groin and protect myself from the likes of Nora and your sister, then I can amplify you to the point where you are running at more than 100 miles per hour.

Ruby (smirking): Alright! I’ll be sure to wake up really early tomorrow and then knock on your door to amp me up!

Jaune (chuckling): Heh. Sounds like a plan.

*The next morning…*

*BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!*

Nora (opening the door): Quit knocking al- Oh! Hi, Ruby! What can I do for you?

Ruby (in a rush): I need Jaune! Where is Jaune?!

Jaune (walking towards the door): Right here.

Ruby: C’mon! We gotta get to the store!

*50 minutes pass, and the store that Ruby, Jaune, and a lot of people are at is about to open in 30 seconds*

Ruby: Alright, Jaune! When I see an employee unlock the doors, that’s your cue!

Jaune (readies himself): Ok.

*Ruby sees an employee approaching the door and pulls out the keys*

Ruby: Ok! Now! Do it now! *Jumping* Now now now now now now now!

*Jaune amps up Ruby, and she starts seeing afterimages of herself jumping*

Ruby (grinning): Hrgh! I can feel the power!

*The employee opens the door, then Ruby immediately runs inside, leaving a trail of rose petals behind*

Ruby (really fast): ThanksJauneIreallyappreciateyourhelpI’llberightback!!

Jaune (falls back): Woah!

*5 minutes pass as Ruby walks right back out*

Ruby (smiling): YESYESYESIGOTTHESANDWICHESIgotthesandwichesJauneIcan’tthankyouenoughifthere’sanythingIcandotorepayyouthentellmewhenwegetbacktoBeaconbutfornowhoponmyback!

Jaune (shaking his head): Ah! Uh…okay! *Gets on Ruby’s back*

Ruby: AlrightJauneholdontight! *Zooms out of the area with Jaune holding on tight to her back*

Jaune (freaking out): WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

*40 minutes pass as Ruby and Jaune make it back at Beacon, with Ruby putting away the sandwiches, and the effects she was under starts to wear off*

Ruby (calming down): Haaaaaaaagh… *Presses her face against Jaune’s chest* Mhmmhmy phnks hmph.

Jaune: What?

Ruby (pushes her face away to speak): Many thanks, Jaune. Is there anything I can repay you with…?

Jaune (chuckling): Oh, there’s nothing you have to repay me with. Though…I guess we can share those sandwiches.

Ruby (smiling): Eee~…I’d like that~…

*a week passes, as Teams RWBY and JNPR are outside in a grassy field, wearing winter clothing*

Nora (angrily): This is stupid! The weather forecast lied about today being the day where it snows in this area!

Jaune: Hey, Weiss! You think you can use your power to make it snow in this area? And make that pond over there suitable for ice skating?

Weiss (pondering): I don’t know…I mean, I can try, but I-

*Jaune amps her up without her say-so*

Jaune (smirking): There, will this make it easier?

Weiss (smiling and internally): Dork. *Makes the entire area around her rain heavy with snow and turn the ponds into ice*

*However, both Teams get buried into snow, then struggle to get out*

Ruby (popping out): Agh! Alright, sound off! Who’s still here?

Team WBY (popping out): Here!

Team NPR (popping out): Here!

Jaune (muffled): Here.

Ren (looking around): Huh? Where’d you go, Jaune?

Yang (looking around): Vomit boy, where are you?!

Jaune (muffled): I’m right here!

*Yang and Ren reaches below the snow, grabs something, pulls it out, and its both of Jaune’s legs*

Yang (pulling him out): There you are! You okay?

Ren (pulling him out): That was quite a snowstorm, wasn’t it?

Jaune (hanging upside down): Urp! Yeah…never been better.

Nora (grinning): Well, what are we waiting for? SNOWBALL FIGHT!! *Makes a snowball and pelts Blake*

Blake (shocked): Agh! You’re gonna pay for that!

Weiss (realization): Oops, hold on. *Summons snow forts away from each other*

Ruby (giving Weiss a thumbs up): Excellent thinking, Ice Queen!

Weiss (glaring): Don’t call me that or I’ll pelt you!

Ren (smiling): Well, better get to my team’s fort then. *Runs over to Team NP*

Yang (chuckling): Well, we didn’t come here for nothing. *Tosses Jaune over to Team NPR’s side as she runs over to her team’s side*

*The rest of the day passes as Teams RWBY and JNPR are having fun in the snow, engaging in snowball fights, making snow sculptures, and ice skating*

*After a long day, both Jaune and Weiss are lying down on the snowy ground alone, while Teams RBY and NPR leave the area*

Weiss (panting): *huff* *huff* Today…was fun…thanks for the power boost, Jaune.

Jaune (panting): *huff* *huff* Don’t…mention it…wanna…warm up…back at home…?

Weiss (smiling): I’d…like that…

*Jaune gets up, picks up Weiss off the ground, and carries her back to Beacon*

*Another week passes, as Blake is running away from a bunch of White Fang Members with Sun running alongside her*

Sun (internally): Damnit damnit damnit damnit!

Blake (annoyed): UGH! Why can’t they just leave us alo- *Notices Jaune* Perfect!

*The duo grab Jaune and hide into an alleyway*

Jaune (shocked): Agh! Blake?! What are- *Gets muffled by Sun*

Sun: SSSSSHHHHH!!! Shut up! We’re running away from a bunch of members from the White Fang!

Blake (internally): I can use my semblance to create multiple clones…hm… *Speaks up* Jaune! Amp me up!

Jaune (unmuffles himself): What?!

Blake (gritting her teeth): We’ve got to get out of here! Please, amp me up!

Jaune: Okay! Okay! Just calm down! *Amps her up*

WF Member 1: Alright, you two! Show yourse- *Sees multiple Blake clones*

WF Member 2: The hell?

WF Member 3: Which one’s the real one?!

*As Blake, Sun, and Jaune are running out of the alleyway, Blake creates a large crowd of clones*

Blake: Alright, you two. Start running, but keep your heads low! *Crotches down*

Jaune: Got it! *Crotches down*

Sun: Don’t gotta tell me twice! *Crotches down*

*The WF Members run out*

WF Member 1: WHAT-

WF Member 2: -THE-

WF Member 3: -HELL?!?

*As Blake and the others move to another area, Blake creates even MORE clones*

WF Member 1: Agh! What the hell?!

WF Member 2: We’re never gonna find them!

WF Member 3: Oh…the boss isn’t gonna be happy about this…

*A few minutes later, Sun, Blake, and Jaune successfully avoided the members, hiding away in a clothing’s store*

Sun (panting): *huff* *huff* Glad that’s over.

Blake (panting): *huff* *huff* We’re not…out of the woods yet. We might wanna purchase some clothing here to disguise ourselves.

Jaune (panting): *huff* *huff* No…argument…here…

Blake (feeling guilty): Jaune, I am so sorry we dragged you into this.

Jaune (chuckling): It’s alright, Blake…

Sun: Jaune, I take back what I said about your semblance being stupid…it’s quite something…

*Jaune smiles at that remark, as he and the others search for clever disguises*

*Yet another week passes as Yang, Pyrrha, and Jaune are fighting against a bunch of Beowolves*

Yang (punching them out): Ha! Raah! Hya!

Pyrrha (piercing them): Ha! They don’t stand a chance against us!

Jaune (defending himself): For you two, they don’t! Me, on the other hand…!

Yang (looking at him): Huh?! Vomit bo- *Gets attacked* GAH! Son of a- *Gets pushed away towards Jaune’s direction*

Jaune (get knocked down by Yang): OOF!! P-Pyrrha, hold on! I gotta do something!

Pyrrha (defending herself): No worries, Jaune! I’ve got this!

Jaune (runs over to Yang): Alright, Yang in there, Yang! *Heals her and amps her up*

*A Beowolf leaps over to the duo, Jaune notices this and braces himself*

Jaune (eyes widened): Oh sh-

*Yang IMMEDIATELY gets up, her eyes turns red and hair starts to glow, then punches the Beowolf away with a powerful blow*

Yang (smirking): MY TURN!!! *Runs headfirst into the horde and starts unleashing a lot of hard-hitting punches and kicks*

Pyrrha (shocked): W-Woah! Yang?!

*After killing the horde with no difficulty whatsoever, a bigger Beowolf appears in front of her*

Yang (cracks her fists): You’re in luck, big guy! *Readies herself*

*The Beowolf roars at Yang, then Yang rushes at its chest and unleashes a flurry of fast-paced punches*

Yang (punching like hell): ATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATA!!!

Jaune (eyes widened): W-Wow…

Yang (does one final, powerful punch): HHHHRRRRAAAAAGGHH!!! *Punches the Beowolf away, and it falls on its back*

*The Beowolf starts jittering uncontrollably, then Yang pulls out her sunglasses, puts them on and smirks*

Yang (crossing her arms): You are already dead.

*The Beowolf starts jittering more, until it explodes into a giant pillar of fire*

Yang (looking at her allies): Heh.

Pyrrha (shocked): Goodness, Yang…! How’d you do that?

*Yang walks over to Jaune, wraps her arm around him, pats his shoulder, and points directly at him*

Jaune (smiling): Uh…hehehe.

Yang (smiling): Thanks for the awesome power boost, ladykiller! Ain’t his semblance awesome, P-money?

Pyrrha (still in awe): Y-Yes! It is!

Yang: This calls for a celebration. Drinks are on me!

*The trio cheers loudly*

#anonymous asks #Q&A #ask me anything #jaune arc #ruby rose #weiss schnee #lie ren #nora valkyrie #blake belladonna #sun wukong #yang xiao long #pyrrha nikos

100 notes · View notes