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wizkiddx · 3 years

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your voice

angsty vibe, requested by @hollandlover19 than you for th rq and hop this doesn't disappoint too much :)))

summary: tom says something so stupid and has to deal with the consquences

warnings: a bit angsty, but ends in fluff! argumnts and raising voices, I guess could be associated with panic attacks tho not written with that intention

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“Oh, Y/n er sorry.” Harrisons morning dulcet tones were what you were awoken to with a groan.

Everything was achy, and your head was pounding, making you grumble in discontent as you shifted uncomfortably on the technically too-small-to-sleep-on sofa.

This was not the morning you’d foreseen even 12 hours ago.

Lockdown had been difficult for everyone, even removing the tragic health crisis. Being locked in with your boyfriend and his brothers and friends was, for the most part, amazing. Lots of laughs, lots of beers and lots of quality time that you usually didn’t get. But it was also intense.

Without a doubt, since you first got together, this was the longest time you’d ever had with Tom. And it had been brilliant, your relationship getting so much closer and just learning the subtlest intricacies about the other. In fact, when lockdown had been announced, you’d never lived together (the most a week-long holiday).

Though it was also like a pressure cooker, Toms rented house. When one of you were in an understandable but stubborn lousy mood, it affected the whole house.

Yesterday night had been the perfect storm. The weather was unbelievably scorching; your work had announced that they had to let some staff go because of the financial implications of the pandemic; a ‘mole’ had released personal details of your relationship.

And it was like a pot on the stove; everything went from controllable to violently boiling over in a matter of minutes.

Honestly, you didn’t even know why you had started arguing - it was that pathetic. And yet you’d both said pretty horrible stuff - though it was Tom who had crossed the line. Frankly, the way he’d spoken to you was almost unforgivable.

You’d both known instantly too, all his anger at you had immediately evaporated when he’d realised what he had said. It took no time for him to become a grovelling apologetic mess, however even that- it was already too late.

It might sound feeble, but honestly, you’d run and locked yourself in the downstairs loo. You’d cried on the inside- whilst from the other side of the door, he had been begging and pleading with you.

After an hour though, Tom finally gave up - hence why you’d had a pretty uncomfortable night on the sofa.

This brings it back to Harrison, the early riser of the house, barrelling into the living room after his morning run. All bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, except also slightly terrified looking as he stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“I’m up now” You sighed, dragging yourself into a sitting position on the sofa whilst massaging your crooked neck.

“You er…. you fell asleep watching the TV?” Rolling your eyes, you sighed at the blonde, even if his poor acting was a little entertaining.

“Are we both pretending that you don’t know what went down last night?” Of course, Harrison knew. The walls were thin, you’d been screaming and he was Tom’s best friend. No doubt, Tom had immediately gone to him for help and advice last night.

Harrison held his hands up in response, caught in the act, and clicked his tongue. “What he said was bad. You shouldn’t be the one ending up with the sore back.” He wasn’t wrong.

“And yet here I am…” With a sigh you smiled which he returned with a sickeningly empathetic one “Anyway, don’t let my sad self get in the way, did you come in here for anything?”

Now, because Harrison was mentally a five year old, that’s how you ended up sat crossed-legged on the floor, clutching a wii remote and angrily shouting at yoshi on the mariokart screen. The whole household was competitive as hell and you were no exception - so some rouge elbows were flying when he viciously knocked you off the track.

Slowly Harry and Tuwaine filtered in and picked up remotes too, so the quiet morning was very quickly switched into a tense atmosphere of yelps and shouts. None more so than Tuwaine, who was possibly the worst looser you had ever met.

Really, you knew all the boys were only doing this as there way of showing you they were with you. That they also thought Tom was a massive raging dickhead. And you appreciated it more than they would ever know. Locked down in Toms house, very much not mutual ground, having three stupid boys behind you meant everything.

Just as you got on to the 18th and final race of the house’s mario grand prix, another voice cut across the tense silence as you waited for the coutdown to turn into ‘go’. Naturally, you flipped round to see Tom, looking as though he literally just rolled out of bed with puffy eyes and messy hair and no top. The sight made your heart flutter, to the point you had to consciously check yourself - refusing to smile softly at him like you usually would, instead narrowing your eyebrows and looking back at the TV.

Tom had so desperately hoped that when he came down this morning, everything would be better. That all it’d take would be a quiet conversation for the two of you to make up - for him to have you in his arms again. Primarily as he had heard your excited laugh echoing through the halls in reactions to Tuwaines yelps of protests - it made him hopeful. Waking up to a cold and empty bed was almost soul-crushing this morning. He did not want it to ever happen again.

Which is why his heart sank so much when all you gave him was a scolding look, before turning your attention to the TV. Admittedly, he was naive to think that what he’d done last night would be an easy fix - he knew it too. So with dropping shoulders, Tom silently took a seat on the sofa, watching from afar. You spent the rest of the race more absent, not joining in with the Harrison or Harrys trash-talking, acutely aware of Tom’s eyes burning the back of your head.

Then came Harry’s celebrations as the overall winner (only just) and when Harrison suggested another game Tom piped up again.

“Give me a turn Harry.”

The three boys kneeling next to you all stiffened, looking immediately to you for what seemed like consent - as if they were engaging with the enemy. (At least it was good to know everyone was on your side).

“I’m gonna go prepare for my meeting anyway.” You spoke quietly, already placing the remote on the floor and standing up.

“Y/n I don’t mind swappin-“

“No. Thanks, H but no.” You weren’t being selfless and giving Tom a turn. You were running away from seeing him.

And Harrison was still really angry at Tom. He’d been so selfish and insensitive and had hurt you- someone who Haz also cared a lot about too. Yes Tom was his bestmate, that he’d grown up with and known for years - but Haz really liked you too, in fact all the boys did. So they were almost as pissed with Tom as you were.

So while you threw the cushion you were sat on back on the floor, Harrison shot Tom the filthiest look and practically shooed him away.

“come on Y/n … just one more? Then you can do your boring work.” You were about to refuse when Haz tilted his head toward the door, only then noticing that Tom had slipped out the room. Now that he was gone ,yes, just one more wouldn’t hurt. The meeting prep wasn’t time pressured; it was an excuse for an escape.

Tuwaine whooped a little when you nodded, planting back down and ready for the first race. Yet apart from that, the room was still a little awkward, you being the first to break the silence.

“Actually Haz, would you mind giving me a lift today?”

“What to the shops?

“Um no not quite.” Tuwaine laughed in his usual innocent and infectious style before asking more.

“Seriously? You know we’re locked down? Boris won’t be happy if you going mad and leaving the house.”

“Just to Y/f/n’s. She lives on her own so it’s legal.”

“She lives just down the road right? Can’t you walk?” Harry was confused, making him look away from the screen, ultimately leading to his ‘diddykong’ falling off the track.

“I’ll have my bags. I um… I think I’m going to stay with her till lockdown eases more.”

As soon as you said that, Harry pressed pause on the race, all three boys looking at you mouth-opened.

“For real?”

“Yeh I um… think me and Tom need some time apart and being locked in isn’t helping.”

“I’m not saying to forgive and forget what he said… but he is really sorry.”

“The twats literally kicking himself.” Tuwaine added, making you smile a little for calling Tom that.

“I know just… I need some space and-“

“Are you breaking up?” Harry almost announced, cutting you off. He would miss you too.

“No! Nono I … well I don’t know. I just- we both need this.”

The boys all nodded, looking at the floor for a moment before Harrison’s blue eyes were back on you.

“Course I’ll drive, but… but I’ll miss you.”

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You’d left merely an hour later, whilst Tom was holed up in the garden doing what looked like an almost unbearable work out. It meant he was also out your hair and you could throw all your stuff into two suitcases without him being any the wiser. It was probably pretty cowardly to leave without speaking to him, but you couldn’t. It would hurt too much and you didn’t want to break down in front of him. No doubt as soon as you had got to Y/f/n you did - into a blubbering mess of tears - but Tom hadn’t seen so it was okay.

Speaking of. Tom.

Tom was not in a good way at all. He’d been trying really hard to curb his’ short fuse’ lately- all of which had been well and truly blown in the past 4 hours. After finally being realised from meetings, which he’d not been able to concentrate on anyway, Tom had mentally prepared himself for a lot of grovelling. Once he’d vaguely hunted the house and not found you there, he naturally asked Harry and Tuwaine (both of whom were in the living room) if they’d seen you around.

It was a typical question, the answer he was expecting was that you’d just gone on your daily walk. And yet the response he got was… well a lot more confusing. Harry’s eyes widened whilst T did his awkward-uncomfortable chuckle, the two locked in an intense bout of eye contact. It was as though they were arguing with each, but through the powers of telekinesis... and it put Tom on edge. He was already stressed because you were so angry with him, so not getting a clear answer out of his brother and best mate - lets just say it tested his patience.

“You two need to tell me what the hell is going on right now.”

The two boys both looked panicked to speak to him, which was the opposite of the usual situation. They were some of the ONLY people in his life that would just say it how it is, no sugar coating. Like if he was away and being ‘famous’ was getting to his head; or if he wore the wrong pair of jeans. Even yesterday evenings events, they’d both called him out on what he’d said to you.

So why the silence?

Eventually, it was Harry who spoke up, but in doing so, practically just waved all responsibility on to another innocent party.

“Ask Haz.”

And then Tom knew. He knew this was bad. Immediately his heart was pumping at an alarmingly fast rate, taking the stairs two at a time and not bothering to knock before bursting the door open.

“Where’s Y/n?”

Harrison was reclined back on his haphazardly made bed, laptop balanced on his lap as he looked up with a sigh. He’d known this conversation was coming, but it didn’t make it any less easy. With a sigh, Haz closed the lid of his MacBook and sat up on the bed.

“Tom just-“

“Where. Is. She.”

“She’s gone to Y/f/n’s.”

“Oh… okay.” Suddenly Tom’s voice was muted, thinking he might’ve blown his top at nothing. This wasn’t weird - Y/f/n was in your support bubble and you went to hers often.

Tom was grossly underestimating the situation - and Harrison heard didn’t fancy stringing him along though.

“No like gone. She um… she took all her stuff. I think she’s going to stay there till-“

Tom was already out his room at that point, slamming the door as he did so. Making a beeline for his own room, Tom then frantically started to pull out the draws and rummage around the shelves, confirming what he already knew. Your clothes were gone, your toothbrush and toiletries were gone, you were gone.

It’s important to note Tom didn’t really cry all that much. Or if he did - it was more inconsequential, at a sad movie or one of the rescue dog stories from battersea. Actually, when it came down to it, he didn’t really cry.

Now though, it was impossible to ignore the burning of his eyes, as he sank down onto the bed that now felt twice the size. With ragged breath, he repeatedly fisted his eyes, not actually letting the tears fall - but it was impossible to not acknowledge their presence. Harrison stood wordlessly at the door frame, knowing it best not to interrupt - whilst at the same time knowing Tom shouldn’t be left alone. There was a delicate balance between the two, which he was walking on a knife-edge on right now.

After a short while, Tom looked up with red eyes and nodded at Harrison, effectively granting him entrance. With a sigh once again, Haz moved and sat next to Tom on the bed, clasping his hands together nervously.

“She said you both just needed a break from each other. Think lockdown and everything was just a bit too intense.” Haz had tried to explain, yet it seemed Tom had only managed to lock onto one of the first words.

“A break? Or breaking up?”

“I uhm… she didn’t explicitly say ending things. But I just… I don’t know to be honest mate.”

“You see the way she looked at me this morning? Like she hated me. Wouldn’t even acknowledge that I was there.”

“I don’t know what to say… she needs time and space I think.” Tom was silent for a beat, shaking his head as he cradled his forehead.

“I hate the fact you and my girlfriend are on better terms than I am.” Anddd his voice was back to scathing.

“I’m not on anyones side. But your both my friends and she… she needed some time.”

With that, Harrison made a quick exit out, getting Harry to take over the Tom supervision.

Ever since the atmosphere in the house had been tense. To say Tom was highly strung was an understatement, particularly towards Harrison. Deep down he was thankful Haz was looking out for Y/n: he was glad that Haz was checking she was okay. It’s not like Tom could, because Y/n was refusing to answer his calls, texts, whatsapps, even the slip of paper he’d slipped under Y/f/n’s door in the middle of an especially dark night.

So it was good to know Y/n was okay, but the fact she was going on socially distanced walks with the rest of his housemates was rubbing salt in the wound.

After a week and a half of complete radio silence on your end Tom had utterly worn down. He didn’t have the emotional capacity to be angry anymore, he was just tired. Tired of missing you with every breath, tired of the ten-tonne weight of guilt pressing on his chest, fucking exhausted with being angry at Haz and Harry and Tuwaine.

The best thing in his life and one of the very limited opportunities was quality time with the people he loved more than anything else. He had ruined it all.

And it was the small things. It was waking up to your soft, whispered voice in the morning; it was your infectious giggle when he surprised you with a hug from behind and gentle kisses to your neck; it was your quiet singing in the shower. Especially when he knew Haz, Harry and Tuwaine were all still seeing you and laughing with you. It hurt like hell.

Which is how he ended up hesitantly knocking on Harrison’s bedroom door at half eleven at night, with his tail between his legs. Having been so uber-healthy all lockdown, Haz was already in bed following his sleep cycle, though for Tom right now- he would be awake.

“I’m um… I’m sorry I’ve been a knob. There’s no excuse of anything I’ve just… I’ve been a knob.”

“You’re not wrong.” Harrison nodded in agreement with a sly smile, motioning for Tom to come into the room, after which he perched on the edge of the bed.

“I just… I need to speak to her but I… I don’t want to push her if she’s still hurting and I…”

“You absolutely promise not to blow your fuse? Because she couldn’t handle that.” Tom’s eyes widened, thinking this would be a much harder pitch than how it seemed to be going.

“Yesyesyes i- I promise. I just, I feel broken you know? Even if all I get is the time to say sorry, I-I really need to.”

Harrison released a deep breath, nodding slowly before throwing the covers off himself. Tom watched all his movements with a curious gaze, silently sitting as Haz pulled on a hoodie, then socks too.

“Well? Let’s go.”

//////////////////

Now, what Tom had not in the slightest bit been prepared for was this to happen tonight. Really, he hadn’t even thought Harrison would agree to let him talk to you… and even if he had, Tom not in hell thought it’d be at 11:30 that evening.

His heart was thundering in his chest, trying to hurriedly script how on earth he was going to apologise meaningfully to you - as him and Haz walked the short distance to your friends house. Honestly the whole situation was peculiar to Tom - finding it hard to believe that if you weren’t to answer his texts you wouldn’t be open to an in person conversation.

What Tom didn’t know, was how you’d been texting Haz at a similar point of desperation. You weren’t happy and even given everything Tom had said and acted - you missed your boy. No matter how infuriating he could be when trapped 24/7 - you’d quickly learnt this was the only way you wanted to spend these weird times.

So yes, Tom’s best friend knew you were hardly sleeping either, but needed that little push to interact with you boyfriend. No doubt, you’d still be awake to answer the door.

Once he’d arrived at the apartment block and walked up the stairs to the right floor, it still took some prodding and pushing from Harrison to get Tom to knock on the door. Plainly, because he was shitting himself. Haz hadn’t given him enough pre warning, enough time to work it all out in his head. So it took another encouraging nod from Harrison for him to knock on the slightly rough-round-the-edges flat door.

Y/f/n was single and young, starting her career in Kingston - so the flat she could afford was modest at best. When it was just occupied by a single person, that was manageable - two was a push. You’d only been living with her for a week and a few days but it was enough to know this flat was not ideal for two people in lockdown. You were already stepping on each others toes. It also wasn’t technically legal to move households but Y/f/n had always been in your support bubble as a single household otherwise. And so there was also a layer of guilt to it all.

Naturally then, sharing a bed with someone who wasn’t Tom meant you just were not sleeping. Even if you had both gone to bed early (just to kill some hours in the day) you were still wide awake at quarter to twelve - when a timid knock echoed through the minuscule apartment. Curiosity peaked at who the hell would be calling now; you silently slipped out of bed, managing to not disturb Y/f/n, and closed the bedroom door.

Now you weren’t an idiot. Even though this was southwest london, hardly the capital for crime, Y/f/n lived in a dodgy building with some questionable characters. And it was midnight. Hence why you approached the situation cautiously, tiptoeing to the door and waiting with your ear pressed against the wood.

“I told you she wouldn’t answer!”

“She will! Might just be in the loo or something.”

“Haz this is stupid-“

The air in your chest froze when you immediately recognised the smooth tone of his voice. It was him… and you’d missed that so much. Already there were tears in your eyes and you couldn’t open the door just yet. So no, instead you slid down the doorframe before calling quietly out into the night.

“Tom?”

The bickering on the otherside of the door was silenced, but you heard a quite tap on the door... and could envision exactly what was going on. Tom, pressing both palms and his ear to the door, as Harrison took a few steps back - sensing his work was done.

“Y/n? You there?” He sounded desperate, you could hear the emotion dripping off his voice. It was only when you tried to reply did you realise your own voice was having a harder time speaking.

“Yeh its-its me.” It felt as though this heavyweight that had been pressing down on your chest was slowly lifting, making your voice all cracky and low.

In response, there was a short and sharp exhale. It sounded relieved before some fidgeting as you imagined him crouching down beside the door - mirroring your image.

“Fuck, it… it feels so good to hear your voice.”

“Yours too… I’ve-i’ve missed you.”

Tom snorted at that, a gentle bang allowing you to realise he’d just whacked his head on the back of the wood.

“You have no idea how this week felt.” He was wrong though, you did.

Yes, maybe without the insurmountable guilt that Tom was rightfully feeling, but it didn’t mean that the time apart wasn’t easy.

“I do. This hasn’t been a nice holiday for me you know?”

He sighed, knowing that yet again he’d said the wrong thing. This time though, he didn’t rebut instantly (which surprised you), instead his response was more measured and calculated.

“I am so sorry. And of course, I know because I was the one that hurt you too. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for that.” You nodded but given this conversation was happening through a door Tom didn’t see your gentle agreement - opting to fill the silence.

“I um… I’m not good at this whole um… speaking my feelings. But I’ve hated myself ever since I picked that fight with you. It was stupid and uh it-it was all my fault. I’m so so sorry for hurting you.”

“‘Why?” You tried to ask, except the words were stuck in your throat, making you have to clear it before asking again. “Why did you say it?”

“To get a rise out of you. It’s stupid and petty and fucking-fucking dumb. I said it not because I’ve ever thought it, I never ever have, but I knew it’d hurt you. I was preying on your insecurities because I was angry at the world and that was so unfair. “

“No shit.”

Silence reigned as you fiddled with your fingers - specifically with the promise ring he’d bought you a year ago.

“You-you think you could ever forgive me?”

“Thats the annoying part. I want to hate you because you literally stabbed me then twisted the knife but… but all I’ve done this week is miss you. Even when I saw Haz or Harry or Tuwaine. I just fucking missed you.”

“Can you open the door please love?”

Clumsily you scrubbed the tear tracks off your face, scrabbling to your feet so you could thrust open the doors. Because you might still be bloody pissed at him, but at the same time - you needed your Tom. Thrusting the door open, the first thing you registered was being pressed into Tom’s chest. His arms slinked around your waist and held him tight, which you reciprocated, squeezing tightly round his neck. Your senses were all being assaulted by one thing and one thing only. Tom.

He smelt like usual, except maybe the slightest bit stronger than usual - you figured he hadn’t showered in a day or two or bothered with cologne. The top of your forehead was pressed up against his chin, and as he readjusted his grip on you, you felt the scratchy feeling of his unshaven stubble. He kept whispering apologies against the top of your head, almost desperate and religiously.

Arching back, you brought both hands to cup his cheeks, looking into his glassy brown. eyes, which looked so lost and confused.

“I’m still angry.”

“Of course-“

“I’m still angry but I’m going to kiss you okay?”

Safe to say Tom didn’t require a verbal response, taking it upon himself to nudge his lips against yours, yet waiting for you to initiate the kiss. And that you did, everything else about this godforsaken week and a half. His index finger traced the angle of your jaw, whilst he held your lower back tight, pressing himself as close as physically possible to you. Needing you.

Eventually arching back, your thumb ran over his deep and sunken under-eyes, which added so much age to his face.

“You look tired Tommy.”

“Can’t sleep without you telling me goodnight.” That was another tradition you had had. Even when he was away, you’d even set an alarm for whatever bedtime was for the other across the world. Just so you could send a little message or voice not saying goodnight. Was it cringey? Yes. Did either of you care? No.

But since you’d been away all the evening wishes were absent from you. Which hurt Tom more than you may ever know.

“I know you’re still angry but will you please come home to me? I need you to be the last thing I hear at night and the first thing in the morning.”

would love to hear any feedback <333 (but think this is a bit of a shitter so im sorry!!!)

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @pandaxnienke @thegirlwiththeimpala @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @hollandlover19 @hunnybunimdun @crossyourpeter @thefernandasantana@hallecarey1

#tom holland x you #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #tomholland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #harry holland

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matchamabs · 3 years

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BOTW SHEIKAH TOWERS: RANKED BY HOW HOT THEY ARE

this is. not a good ranking. but surprisingly there r some very sexy towers so whaddya know 👀

the starting point,,,, the og,,,, the great plateau tower! this tower is a pretty easy climb, tho the whole like... almost killing u and sending rocks flying everywhere n shit is :(( lots of footholds look nice and all the water surrounding it is pretty. not to mention this is the tower u can climb and see ALL of hyrule on so its definitely good 6/10 not the sexiest tower but it has a lot to offer. i believe in it

the fact its on the other side of a huge fuckoff river that i always die trying to swim across makes the dueling peaks tower really piss me off but it looks rlly pretty next to it. still, its like. not a hard climb, but if u fall off ur basically fucked. the nearby bokoblin camp also makes me want to chug bleach so! 4/10 its hard to live up to the great plateau tower and frankly its not doing a good job of it. cringe tower next to the fail river

ok look. its normally not that bad! but i did the hateno tower for the first time whilst i was off my ass on malibu and my god did i have a bad time. the thorns,,, the lack of stamina,,, and im not exactly a tactical player either, so. ruined the tower for me a bit. its very aesthetic sitting up on the hill tho very nice very neat. very majestic. 5/10 thorns are sexy but not when you’re drunk :(

thanks google for giving me only the lowest quality res of lanayru tower. tbh im biased against this tower bc it rains every time i try and climb it so FUCK it. its a good looking tower tho?? its a bit lopsided but i think it gives it character! hey if italy can make it work,,, 6/10 lanayru region has a wat but thats all its got to offer

hm! fuck this tower! okay ignoring literally everything about ridgeland tower, its pretty! the lake surrounding it,,,, its very prim. even the wizzrobes make it look kinda nice. its a sexy tower but thats literally all its got going for it bc climbing it is an atrocious nightmare! 7/10 its like the rlly hot girl at school who has the personality of a tire fire

ill be honest i dont remember much of akkala citadel tower aside from the fact it was guardian central and i only climbed it literally after i beat ganon LMAO. truly its the chad of all towers. but sitting on the very top of the citadel,,,, surrounded by all the nice trees,,, it looks like it rlly belongs there. the malice at the bottom doesnt even look good tho. sorry dude who said this was the sexiest tower- its not :( 7/10 everyone tough until the trees start beeping

u know what i rlly like eldin tower. its kinda cozy lookin in the rock and the volcano in the background is pleasantly menacing. its abt as far as u can go without getting crispy, so its one hot ass tower. its got guts. ambition. its a tower i can respect. 5/10 not perfect but a cute addition. shes doing her best.

now THIS is a sexy tower excuse the poor quality image BUT wow,,,, woodland tower,,, this tower could be on fire and breaking down and it would still look hot. even tho its standing in a monster camp it rlly rocks it. the skull on the top,,,, this tower is the goth of all the towers, especially since its so close to hyrule castle. 8/10 this tower likes 2 accessorize

the hebra tower is VERY pretty,,, the blue rlly matches the snow everywhere so u know the tower has good colour coordination,,,,all the ice at the bottom is also cute. annoying but cute. very prim. its like the tsundere of towers. 9/10 chilly until u get 2 know her,,,

,,,,, well. i like it, at least. all the ruins around it rlly brings out its, uh ... malice. and in fairness they offer a quick way up there so this towers got backup plans for u. it cares for u. tabantha tower may be covered in malice but it makes it look Good. it rocks it. it works. 6/10 you did your best considering the circumstances

gerudo tower,,, its by far one of the sexiest. it just descends into the ground forever. the open space around it. the spiral mountain. the few and far between footholds. kass sitting on top. i like everything about this tower. visually, that is. climbing it is an absolute ballache of a chore. but its worth it,,,, for this tower,,, 9/10 if i could marry a tower,,, i probably wouldnt marry this one. good try tho.

hebra tower is hard to beat but central tower doesnt actually look That bad. the footholds that go all spirally up look rlly nice, and all the ruins around it is tres good. u get to see everything from the centre of hyrule which is rlly nice positioning. the guardians? hm. rlly ruin the atmos. it sits there and looks rlly pretty for when u get off the plateau and then BANG guardian laser. betrayal. i love u,,, but i can never forgive u,,, 6/10 this thing probably has laser marks all over it but hey just think of it as sexy battle scars,,,

hh i dont even remember this one tbh but i think its the lake tower and thats like. in faron. shows how much i care about it. if i remember right it keeps raining when i try and climb this tower so. i have a bias. i think its average tbh. the rainforest around it is SUPER nice until lit everything tries 2 kill u so. its a safe haven in a dangerous forest. it means well. 4/10 sweet but not hot. stop getting me struck by lightning.

this is one windy bitch! the wasteland tower! the footholds r all up at the top which is kind of a look but its surrounded by a swamp which,,, hm. not the sexiest choice. if i was trying to attract someone i probably wouldnt sit in a puddle of shit but u do u boo. 5/10 it looks nice on the top of a mountain but the functionality is dogshit

conclusion: theyre fucking towers idk why i rated these it was hard and i hate everything

#botw #breath of the wild #aoc #age of calamity #hyrule warriors aoc #hyrule warriors age of calamity #loz #legend of zelda #UGHHHH #this was. bad #my ranking is not very good im very busy today!#esc stuff u know how it is ;)#anyway if i had to pick a tower its hebra i love me a cold bitch

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jademight · 2 years

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THE THINKIN’ JOE FIXIT - ONE NIGHT ONLY.

Alright, he’ll admit it, it hadn’t been the smoothest of rides for this here troupe of theirs

He could say he had nothing to do with it. Innocent ol’ Joe, just the way Auntie Elaine liked him. He could-- But that would make him a liar. And Auntie Elaine abhorred a liar.

Yeah, that was the thing about introspection, you see, its got an addictive quality to it. Thinkin’, musin’, ponderin’. He’s starting to get why there are so many philosophers, everyone liked to yak their yap, and he certainly was someone.

Earliest days were the roughest, you see. A gaggle of Hulks, each trying to butt in and swing their weight. Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. ( He wasn’t a saint just for his good looks, hallelujah.) He’s sure there were the three of them, then, before the guests. All of them must have died out now, if not dormant. Someone should get Al to do a headcount.

Hell, he’s pretty sure he copped the grey thing from the Big Guy. Finder’s keepers, no refunds.

Where was he-- Ah, right. See, Banner was a bookworm through and through, just where oh where did he get the guts to survive out there? He’ll claim he cannot remember, that those days were too much of a blur to make sense out of. That desperation made criminals out of them all.

Yeah, you and me both, sweetheart.

It ain’t no secret that he hadn’t been the biggest fan of Glasses (shit-- did he still wear those?), Banner hated him, and he in turn hated Banner. It was easier, then, to hate, to be angry. Story of their life, eh, Stan?

Funny how facing one’s immortality makes them introspective.

Yeah, they all spent so long hating each other. Trying to get rid of each other. Hell, succeeding a few times until separation anxiety (or the literal hand of god) kicked in. Self-loathing was their lot in life, such as it was. But now-- Shit, having a pissing contest with the Capital G Itself will leave one open to change. Where did it leave them now? Well, Big Daddy’s got the reins again, sure he’s thrilled about it. Yours truly Saint Joey himself is taking care of the Kid, lord knows (not that one) he needs it. Better to keep him in, he’s suffered enough out there, and as for Banner--

Well, he doesn’t hate him anymore, he’ll say that much. All those years of Samson’s piss poor attempts at therapy, and he ain’t even the reason for their big breakthrough. Someone get the guy a bleedin’ Nobel Peace Price.

All this to say-- Perhaps the Kid had a point. Banner may be puny, a fool, a coward, hate himself more than he hated any of the others, but-- Ah, fuck, at the end of the day he was just as much a Hulk as the rest of them.

Hulks should forgive other Hulks. We ain’t got nobody else.

#; drabble #v; I do not exist. There exist but the thousands of mirrors that reflect me. (616.)#I can have a lil joe voice test...as a treat

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charlemange1 · 4 years

Text

Ranking adaptations of Victor Frankenstein from least to most evil

The character Victor Frankenstein has been adapted many times over the years. Sometimes he’s a heroic YA protagonist while others have him using his clone army to wipe out humanity and take over the world. But which Victor is truly the worse?

After reading several adaptations, I’ve decided to rank Victor’s morality in each one and find out! The gothic lit community doesn’t talk about these adaptations much, so hopefully this list can introduce the fandom to some of the lesser-known interpretations out there!

This is part one, which ranks printed retellings only. If people enjoy it, I’ll do a part two and merge the films into the mix!

Disclaimers (please read):

SPOILERS! Victor’s actions in these adaptations will be thoroughly analyzed with no regard for the spoiler tag.

Some of the more evil Victor’s get into dark territory, and while I will not go into extensive detail (lest I go insane) if mentions of abuse, sexual themes, possessive behavior and murder bother you, don’t make my mistake and turn back! (I will leave an additional reminder when said parts come up)

This list centers on Victor’s actions and NOT the quality of the books themselves—so if you see your favorite title getting a low score it’s not because it’s a bad book—it’s because Victor is a jerk.

This list is by no means complete, just the ones I’ve read personally.

These are my silly personal opinions and if you disagree with my ranking that’s perfectly fine!

Ranking: On a 1-10 scale, with 10 being fantastic and 0 being “run if you see this man in a dark alley.”

10/10 Perfect Sunbeam. Overall great, wholesome guy!

*crickets chirp in a serene backdrop of a Romantic field*

Good dude

Junji Ito’s Frankenstein: 8.5/10

Props to the master of manga monsters for making the twist be that Victor is not secretly evil/insane.

Not only does Victor pity the creature and agree to create a mate for him—but he keeps his word! This is especially touching when you consider how the creature treks alllllll the way to Switzerland to dig up Justine’s head as a face for the bride. (Henry says he probably didn’t know it was Justines, but come on, you just happened to pick up the head of the girl you framed and carried it for miles across land and sea to deliver it to Victor instead of stopping somewhere closer? I don't buy it.)

Victor even goes the extra mile, kindly stating:

Yet the bride rejects the creature (not Victor’s fault) and in revenge, the creature kills Henry, Elizabeth, and Alphonse. In retaliation, Victor follows him onto the ice and relates his tale to Walton before dying.

Victor's actions are nothing heroic, but what more could he have done? He didn’t break his promise and kill the bride like in the original novel and he clearly cared about reanimating “Justine” as shown in the above image.

And did I mention this manga was done by Junji Ito? Would YOU stay in the same room if you created a Junji Ito monster? Didn't think so! After the initial mistake of abandoning his monster, this Victor did the best he could to make amends and protect his family--making him an overall good person.

Decent guy

This Dark endeavor by Kenneth Oppel: 7/10

Serving as a prequel to the original novel, This Dark Endeavor tells the untold story of what leads young Victor Frankenstein to create his monster.

While Victor very much struggles with his angsty dark desires (bad), he tirelessly searches for the alchemic "Elixir of Life" to save his twin brother (good). A brother who is more talented than Victor, has the heart of his love interest, and Victor believes everyone prefers over himself.

Good on you, Victor, for letting the love for your brother override understandable sibling jealousy. If that wasn’t enough to make him decent, letting a few fingers be cut off to save his twin definitely does.

What brings Victor down to a 7 is his relationship with Elizabeth. It’s born out of jealousy from her loving his twin rather than genuine affection. Even if this retelling makes Elizabeth a feisty, pants-wearing independent female (to lessen the possessive undertones Victor exhibits, I presume? Read it and judge for yourself), the relationship does nothing positive for his character. Tricking someone into kissing you is a jerk move, bro.

Ok I guess….

Such Wicked Intent by Kenneth Oppel 6/10

The sequel to This Dark Endeavor loses Victor’s careful balance of good and bad traits its predecessor boasted. Victor wasn’t perfect in TDE, but the majority of his negative actions stemmed from trying to save his ill brother and were mostly forgivable. In Such Wicked Intent, his understandable sibling jealously now comes off as petty since Victor’s twin is already dead.

Victor trying to bring his brother back to life (good) is undermined by his growing reliance on supernatural butterflies that increase his abilities despite other characters pointing out the obvious danger. Victor is also not the greatest parent to Twin 2.0 and the previous issues with him and Elizabeth from book 1 don’t improve. He’s the same Victor from TDE, but the plot focusing on his selfish desires makes him more flawed as a result.

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley (the original novel): 6/10

Depending on how you interpret the events of the original novel, Victor is either a college Dad in over his head and trying his best after an initial mistake, or a misogynistic, irresponsible jerk only capable of thinking of himself. There are enough professional articles to support both interpretations, and I’m not the person to pick one over the other.

However, if the narrative he tells Walton is to be taken as truth (and the creature not correcting Victor's account tells me it is), Victor spent most of the novel trying to fix his mistake (intentions may vary)—and isn’t too bad as a result.

Pride and Prometheus by John Kessel: 5/10

Despite being a crossover with Pride and Prejudice, Kessel tries to be as faithful to the original Frankenstein as possible. However, the few changes he makes hurts Victor from a moral standpoint.

Victor’s not the greatest guy when handling the romantic gestures of both Mary Bennet and Henry. Also, murdering his creature's mate with poison right before they leave to start their happily ever after is awful, but understandable from his point of view.

Then there's P&P's ending, where Walton describes meeting Victor on the ice. It’s revealed that Victor left killing the creature's mate and the Bennet’s out of his narrative. While this is probably Kessel justifying why Jane Austen’s characters and his changes weren’t mentioned in the original text (and who can blame him?) it does make Victor a liar. In the original, the creature never called Victor out for omitting anything—so altering the story on his deathbed places P&P’s Victor a rung lower than his original counterpart.

Ehh….

Frankenstein According to Spike Milligan: 4/10

As a nearly-word-for-word retelling with minor, humorous changes by the comedian Spike Milligan, Victor is more pathetic than anything. He’s a harmless, pathetic, hilarious jerk.

Some quotes:

"I bounded along with feelings of unbridled joy and hilarity. From a great distance my family could see me bounding with unbridled joy and hilarity." (53)

"'I tell you,’ I said, ‘that murderer had his trousers down, was eating fish paste sandwiches and traveling 100 miles per hour.’" (59)

"‘I can offer you no consolation,’ said he.

‘Then piss off.’ said I." (54)

Here’s his jail visit with Justine in animatic form (and me shamelessly plugging my other creative endeavors)

Monster by Neal Bell 3.5/10

Warning: contains mentions of animal abuse

On one hand, Victor wants to conquer death to save his family and is clearly disturbed over Justine's and his mother’s death. However, the man expresses little concern at the possibility of William getting struck by lightning with his kite in front of his mother who had already lost 9 children.

He can also talk to dogs and cats (for…some reason?) who are portrayed as intelligent beings with feelings—yet that doesn’t stop him from eating said dogs in the Arctic and killing said cat after threatening her with a knife. He also flings around Bible verses while being painfully egotistical about “being God”.

Using Henry’s romantic affections toward him to his advantage, briefly forcing himself on Elizabeth, and tenderly caring for his monster only to abandon him after the creature expresses a want to die just makes him an awful person all around. The fact he doesn’t do these things with clear malicious intent saves him from being any lower.

Quotes:

ELIZABETH: A bone. A brittle bit of skin. A tooth—

VICTOR: Would you not be womanish now?

Be useful. Here—hold the Leyden jar,

While I attach the string…

VICTOR: A satisfactory morning, then, Mister Puss—tormenting the dogs?

CAT: God gave me a duty. I fulfill it.

VICTOR: Papa says there is no God.

(He takes out a knife)

Pretty bad dude

WARNING: Please note that some of these Victors get into unsavory territory. If the mention of sexual themes/abuse/murder bothers you turn back:

The Casebook of Victor Frankenstein by Peter Ackroyd: 3/10

This one was tricky. The narrative chugs along with Victor being an intelligent, thoughtful guy with only a few obsessive tendencies. He’s chilling with the Shelleys, talking to the poor in the streets and financially supporting Fred’s family along with giving out generous tips. He’s a cool guy. He’s a great dude! He’s….revealed in the final 2 pages to be recounting everything from a mental asylum, the monster was in his head, and he’s actually the one that committed the murders.

Alrighty then. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Having his insanity revealed in the final pages, it’s hard to judge whether there was genuine malicious intent or if Victor truly thought he created the creature and believed he was doing good in trying to “stop” it. No matter his intentions though, the body count remains and a child strangler has no place being anything higher than a 3.

The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein by Kiersten White: 1/10

We all knew this one would make the list. Elizabeth’s first flashback sets up Victor as having serious issues—the question becomes how low will he go? Turns out pretty low.

He’s the one who killed William and framed Justine along with murdering his father, brother Robert and various people at Ingolstadt.

What really makes him despicable is that Elizabeth is the novel's main POV character who only sticks with Victor so she’s not thrown out on the streets. He’s abusive, controlling, dominating, and so possessive that he’ll perfect reanimation so that not even death can take her away from him! Yikes. I can’t stress enough how being in Elizabeth’s POV makes these actions all the more menacing.

Quote:

“There was never another path for you. Consider how much worse it has all been for me. How much I have had to suffer. And how much of that suffering has been caused directly by you!” His face twitched, and his fingers tightened on the pistol. Then he sighed. “It does not do to dwell on it. There is no point in fighting. This is your fate, Elizabeth Frankenstein. I will let no other claim you—not man, not death, not even God.” (279)

Nice guy.

Despite his terrible actions, Victor is trying to "save" Elizabeth from death. In his mind, he wants what’s best for her. It’s a crazy mind that mixed up domination and love, but the fact that his evil actions come from wanting to keep someone he wants to control cares about safe vs. other versions where his crimes stem from wanting to rival god and rule the world, this version isn’t THAT bad. At least his hearts in the right place—even if his mentality is utter garbage.

The Memoirs of Elizabeth Frankenstein by Theodore Roszak 0/10

*insert my screams of insurmountable anguish here*

Caroline: Hey son, you should do NSFW things.

Victor: Sure. I will now do NSFW things.

Victor: *proceeds to do NSFW things*

The reprint of this novel mentions on the cover it’s erotica, but the copy I bought (and to this day have not finished) had no such disclaimer. I’ll break my rule and speak on the quality of this book: there is none. For an alleged “pro-feminism” novel everyone is terrible—and Victor is no exception.

Literally Satan.

Dean Koontz’s Frankenstein Series: -∞/10

So you’ve read far enough to join me in Hell.

Where do even I start? This is a Victor who extended his life to the present day. Who worked with Hitler, Stalin, Castro and regretted the fall of the Third Reich. Who created an army of emotionally deprived “new race” creations to kill people and assume their identities so he could ascend the ranks of politics. Who, once he has enough of his new race integrated into society, desires to commit mass genocide on humanity and establish himself as supreme ruler of the world—only then can he conquer the cosmos as well because why the hell not?

Oh, and he’s a wife-beater/murderer too! Which isn’t a problem, considering he can create a new wife whenever he sees fit (he was on Erika 5 by book 3). The sheer lack of any positive traits in this man is laughable. Koontz really, REALLY wants to get across that Victor is a bad guy.

And if you’re somehow not convinced by the above description, here are some quotes I pulled from the first 3 novels as a bonus to reeeeeally sell how despicable this clown is:

Regarding Elizabeth:

“Victor had not loved Elizabeth. Love and God were myths he rejected with equal contempt. But Elizabeth had belonged to him. Even after more than 200 years, he still bitterly resented the loss of her, as he would have resented losing an exquisite antique porcelain vase if [his creature] had smashed that instead of the bride,” (3.97).

Regarding Mary Shelley:

“When Mary Shelley took a local legend based on truth and crafted fiction from it, she made Victor a tragic figure and killed him off. He understood her dramatic purpose for giving him a death scene, but he loathed her for portraying him as tragic and as a failure. Her judgment of his work was arrogant. What else of consequence did she ever write? And of the two, who was dead—and who was not?” (1.79-80)

(Author Note: For your information, Victor, The Last Man is considered by some to be the first dystopian novel)

His…ah…"friends”:

“Fire was featured in some of his less pleasant memories. The great windmill. The bombing of Dresden. The Israeli Mossad attack on the secret Venezuelan research complex that he had shared with Mengele in the years after World War Two. Nevertheless, he liked to read to the accompaniment of a cozy crackling fire,” (1.76).

“Victor admired Hitler. The Führer knew talent when he saw it.

In the 1930s and 40s, Victor had worked with Mengele and others in Hitler's privileged scientific class. He made considerable progress in his work before the regrettable allied victory…the problem with the Führer had been that his roots were in art and politics…The future did not belong either to artists or to politicians,” (2.24-25).

Dat ego tho:

“When I die, those cells will be capped descend a signal that will be relayed by satellite to everyone made of new race flesh, to every meat machine that walks. And you will fall down dead,’…Victor smiled, anticipating triumph in spite of their silence. ‘Did you think a God would die alone?’” (3.345).

Civilization would not be remade or sustained by Christianity or by Islam. Neither by Scientologists nor by the bright-eyed adherence of the deliciously solipsistic paranoid new religion encouraged by The Da Vinci Code. Tomorrow belonged to scientism. The priests of scientism were not merely robed clerics performing rituals, they were gods, with the power of gods. Victor himself was their Messiah,” (2.25).

“With Victor's unstoppable drive for power, with his singular intellect, with his cold materialism and his ruthless practicality, and now with synchronicity on his side, he had become untouchable, immortal.

He was immortal,” (3.329).

“How they goggled at him, abashed by his wisdom and knowledge, mortified by their ignorance, over-awed by his godlike power,” (3.330).

“’Murder,’ said the caller. ‘murder…excites me.’

Victor kept the growing concern out of his voice. ‘No, your mind is fine. I don't make mistakes.’” (1.156)

Oh yeah, he has a wife, doesn't he:

“This is why Victor requires …the cruel humiliation of his partner. He has long ago transcended the guilt that committing acts of cruelty might spawn in others...the exercise of raw power thrills him,” (1.244).

“I have given you a life…remember that. I have given you a life, and I will choose what you do with it,” (1.464).

Wives view of him:

“She owned literally hundreds of outfits. Having been created to his ideal measurements, Victor had purchased everything…She hoped that someday she would be allowed to shop for herself. When Victor allowed that, she would know she had at last met his standards and earned his trust. Briefly, she wondered what it would be like not to care what Victor—or anyone—thought of her. To be herself. Independent. Those were dangerous thoughts. She must repress them.” (1.107)

And those are just the PG bits, he does much, much worse.

In conclusion:

So yes, Spike Milligan made Victor a pathetic jerk, Casebook made Victor a madman, Memoirs made him an erotic predator, Dark Descent had him as an abusive boyfriend ruthless in possessing “his Elizabeth”, but nearly succeeding at worldwide genocide while abusing/murdering/manipulating people to achieve his goals makes Dean Koontz’s Victor Frankenstein the worse, more morally despicable Victor Frankenstein of them all. At least from what I’ve read.

Annnnd that’s it! If you want me to make a part 2 and add in the films/plays let me know! Hopefully at least one of these peeked your interest as something to check out during spooky season.

Shameless plug-in: here’s my own Frankenstein adaptation

Bonus!

Ranking the books on how much I liked them personally!

Great:

The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein: Nice to see Victor’s villainy stem from family relations and not ego and wanting to defy God for a change.

Junji Ito’s Frankenstein: Phenomenal artwork, fairly faithful adaptation, and the changes serve to put Victor in a better light—which I love! The master of manga monsters himself made the right choice in keeping the creature more monstrous in this version instead of focusing on his humanity.

This Dark Endeavor: Frankenstein characters go on a Harry Potter styled adventure. Need I say more?

Average:

Such Wicked Intent: Victor’s character takes a dip, and pit monsters/life-absorbing butterflies don’t quite fit in a Frankenstein prequel.

Frankenstein According to Spike Milligan: It’s a silly, stupid comedy. Got a few chuckles out of me.

Pride and Prometheus: The concept works way better than it should. However, it follows the original text to a fault and can be boring at points.

Bad:

Warning: contains mentions of suicide

Monster: Victor’s character was far too inconsistent to be likable. He can talk to animals why, exactly?

Casebook of Victor Frankenstein: So, Victor is revealed to be crazy in the final 3 pages? So, the monster was in his head? Alright. But other characters throughout the book SAW the monster and described him like Victor did. So, there’s no way to separate Victor’s POV from reality and that kills the reread value and makes this a waste of time. Don’t get me wrong, the creature being symbolic for Victor’s inner demons is a fascinating direction if done well—and I recommend the essay “Frankenstein: The Man and the Monster” by Arthur Belefant if you want a much shorter exploration of this concept. It’s not perfect, but beats Casebook by a longshot!

Also, taking the real-life suicide of Percy’s wife Harriet and turning it into Victor murdering her and framing it on someone else to mimic Frankenstein’s Justine/William scene is just wrong. You made a woman’s suicide a cheap plot point in your fanfic of the mistress’s novel. That is what you did, author.

Dean Koontz Frankenstein: It starts out good and has great suspense—too bad the actual plot is awful. Victor’s so painfully evil it comes off as comical, the characters are bad/bland, plot holes abound (they state Mary Shelley’s novel is canon, then mention the windmill which was only in the films—so who even IS this Victor? Book or film?). The conclusion in book 3 is one of the most underwhelming finals I’ve ever read, and the creature “cures” a kid of Autism in the final chapter. No really. How this is a book series/comic series/movie is beyond me.

So atrocious I couldn’t bring myself to finish:

Warning: contains mentions of sexual themes

The Memoirs of Elizabeth Frankenstein: It claims to be pro-feminist, but the women “good guys” blatantly state they are grooming children for sexual rituals and Victor and Elizabeth are coerced into doing NSFW things by Victor’s mother in the name of “women’s rights”. Here’s the kicker: these awful actions are framed as being positive. I—a woman—loath this novel. Maybe things got better by the end (and if there was some plot twist that changed the entire setup, I apologize for ranting about nothing) but I’m not reading to that point to find out! This will forever stay both my first and last experience with erotic literature. Thank goodness The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein exists to give us a decent feminist take on Frankenstein!

#THIS TOOK OVER 5 YEARS AND I'M FINALLY DONE!#victor frankenstein #frankenstein #halloween #gothic literature #classic literature #frankenstein adaptations #frankenstien au #frankenstein memes #the casebook of victor frankenstein #the dark descent of elizabeth frankenstein #frankenstein according to spike milligan #dean koontz frankenstein #Monster neal bell #this dark endeavor #such wicked intent #pride and prometheus #charlemagne1

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

From horny twitter: Hermann writes a very very detailed review of a vibrator online

not sfw below cut!!!!!!!!!!!

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

Now, usually, Newt doesn’t mess around when he’s on the clock, because that’d be very unprofessional of him and that’s totally not who he is, but he’s in a little bit of a rut with his current project and could use the distraction. Online shopping is his favorite go-to distraction these days: he can lose himself in size charts and color options and hunts for coupon codes and forget, even for a few minutes, that the end of the world is accelerating towards them at an intimidating rate. Plus, he can write off half his shit as work-related expenses. Win-win. Though maybe not this particular search.

Newt has a pretty reliable arsenal of sex toys he’s used on rotation since he packed up and shipped across the world for the PPDC, but the ten-year warranty vibe he’s used since PhD #3 (and his favorite of the bunch) finally crapped out on him last week after a historically intense fight with Hermann got him historically wound up. Eleven years ain’t bad. After testing out a different charger, poking around in the wiring, and even going so far as to zap it a few times with some sorta-stolen drift tech to see if it stirred any life back into it, he finally decided it was time to just mourn, move on, and buy a new one. (Even if, unfortunately, his particular favorite model was discontinued when the company’s factory was destroyed in a kaiju attack and they never quite managed to recover. More casualties of the war.)

The sex toy market is truthfully booming during the apocalypse. It makes sense, Newt guesses—anything for a distraction. Personally, for Newt, orgasms tend to dampen his own existential dread, even if it’s just for a few minutes. He scrolls idly through a few Top Ten For 2023 listicles on various sex magazine websites to see if anything jumps out at him (some of the recommended toys are dildos he already has, and vibes that are a little beyond his k-sci paycheck), just hoping for something to jump out at him. Apparently he missed out on a limited-edition run of jaeger and kaiju-themed vibes and dildos that came out in early January, which he’s honestly a little pissed about—he’s the top expert on kaiju biology, god damn it! Didn’t anyone want to consult with him about their hypothetical junk? Accuracy matters.

“It’s all off,” Newt mutters grumpily as he examines a 360 view of one of the kaiju dildos. Trespasser. “It’s not even the right color. Fucking amateurs. Did they even try?”

“What are you doing?” Hermann says.

Newt slams his laptop shut. Hermann decided to cut his lunch break short today, apparently. “Shopping,” he says.

“You sounded awfully angry about something, is all,” Hermann says. He clacks over to his half of the lab and shrugs off his big parka, then pauses. “Do you need to...talk about it?”

“No,” Newt says.

Hermann breathes out in obvious relief. “Good,” he says.

He takes his usual spot at his chalkboard and resumes his calculating. Newt re-opens his laptop and scrolls away from Trespasser before he can make himself angry over anatomical inaccuracies again. The jaeger vibes from the collection are pretty cool, actually; the designs are a lot cleaner, and their artistic license is a lot more forgivable. The highest-rated of the set is one obviously (but not enough to invoke copyright infringement, if that can even exist for a jaeger) modeled off of Coyote Tango, with like, a million different settings, and an astronomical cost to match. Newt eyes it enviously. He could be shoving that up his ass right now if he’d just signed up for a stupid email list last year.

He follows the link to Amazon to read through some of the reviews enviously, too. Life-changing; best money ever spent; warranty lasts a lifetime. Ten stars across the board. Sold out, obviously. No idea when it’ll be back in stock. He could get the Striker Eureka model for twice the original cost as when it came out, if he wanted, but the idea of constantly having to associate the twenty-something punk Hansen kid with his intimate affairs makes him shudder.

A nine-star review for the Coyote Tango model from someone named MathLover69 is the only one to make Newt really pause, on account of how absolutely insane it is.

I saved quite a few paychecks to purchase this vibrator, and though the cost is steep, I must say it is absolutely worth it. As opposed to my normal vibrator (here another vibe is linked, and Newt’s eyebrows jump at that price, too), which has only five settings, an admittedly bulky body, and average battery life, the CT2023 has a generous ten, a sleeker design, and charges fully in a matter of minutes. The orgasms I have experienced while using it are higher in quality (and more numerous) than any resulting previously from masturbation, though I have not tried beyond setting six yet. It also works wonders for stress relief. (I have an incredibly irritating colleague, and nothing calms me down so much as a quick round with the CT2023 after a spat with him.)

The body is versatile enough to be either inserted into one’s—

Newt feels heat rise to his cheeks in spite of himself, and he skims the second paragraph of MathLover69’s review to get the gist of it—that there are, uh, plenty of ways to utilize the vibe, that it’s discreet and small enough to wear to work (if you were inclined to do so, as MathLover69 implies he might’ve been) and that when combined with the Yamarashi dildo, the pleasurable experience increased tenfold. Talk about oversharing. Jeez.

My only complaint would be that the design is a poor approximation of the real Coyote Tango, and for that I’ve docked a star. I would recommend this product.

“This guy is a total nut,” Newt says to himself.

“Hm?” Hermann says.

Newt considers the implications of showing Hermann the vibrator listing: Hermann will know he was shopping for sex toys, Hermann will know he was shopping for kaiju and jaeger-themed sex toys, Hermann will know he was shopping for kaiju and jaeger-themed sex toys during working hours a mere ten feet away from him. Embarrassing, but on the other hand, MathLover69’s review is too funny to not share with someone else. “Hey, Hermann,” Newt says, angling his laptop towards Hermann. “Look. Who comments shit like this?”

Hermann descends his ladder carefully and inches up behind Newt’s shoulder, squinting at his laptop screen. He immediately turns bright red. Newt must’ve offended his Victorian sensibilities with the mere suggestion of self-abuse. “Oh,” he says. “Er.”

“Way TMI,” Newt says. “Listen to this line. ‘With the Yamarashi toy inserted into one’s mouth, and the CT2023 inserted up one’s—'”

“Well, how else is one meant to review a masturbatory aid?” Hermann snaps, surprising Newt. He looks oddly flustered. “Details can be—er—helpful. Can’t they?”

“Sure, dude,” Newt snorts. “Except they’re obviously just screwing with people. They literally have a 69 in their username.” He taps at the MathLover69, and doesn’t mention—on behalf of Hermann’s delicate mathematician feelings—that the MathLover part is obviously meant as a joke too.

“Well,” Hermann says. “Perhaps it’s just his—er, their birthdate.”

Newt turns around to stare at Hermann, taking in his red cheeks, his red ears, and the gaze he’s fixed steadily on his shoes. It’s all Newt can do to not to gape at him. “Hermann, you’re kidding,” he says. “Right?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Hermann says.

“You didn’t,” Newt says.

“I,” Hermann stammers. “Well—”

“I didn’t even know you—”

“That I what?” Hermann says.

Newt gives a half-shrug. Hermann doesn’t seem the type to engage in any sort of vice, let alone this kind. And especially not with the type of sex toys he apparently gravitates towards. (If Newt was a little bolder, and had a little less shame and care for hygiene, he might ask to check out the Yamarashi, because anatomical inaccuracies aside, wow that sounds awesome.) “I mean, you know,” Newt says. “You’re kinda you. No offense.”

Hermann takes offense. “I am human,” he says. “I am allowed to masturbate, Newton, and I was merely attempting to educate other customers about the—product—with my thoroughness.” He adds, awkwardly, “My review was voted very helpful, as you can see.”

“Okay,” Newt says with a grin. “I get it. Sorry.”

Hermann marches back over to his side of the lab with a scowl. Newt waits until he’s sure Hermann’s not watching him, and is too distracted by muttering angrily under his breath, to bookmark MathLover69’s page of reviews.

It turns out (as Newt revisits the page later that night, in the privacy of his bunk) Hermann buys and reviews a truly staggering amount of dildos and sex toys, and on top of that, has absolutely zero filter behind the wall of anonymity. It’s to the extent that some of his reviews read like goddamn sexts.

It took me three occasions to successfully work myself up to taking in the entire length…

My orgasm was so pleasurable I alarmed my colleague with the noise I made, who believed me to have injured myself…

The highest vibration setting is a bit of a disappointment…

These are excellent for double penetration…

It also turns out Hermann is a veritable sex fiend. Or at least a masturbation fiend. Judging by his reviews alone, Hermann’s purchased more than a dozen different toys in the past three years alone. That’s four a year. One every three months. That’s not even including buttplugs, which (according to other reviews) he sometimes just wears into the lab (“work”) for the hell of it, which Newt isn’t even going to think about right now. How the hell has Hermann kept this much of his life under wraps? When the hell does he have time to jerk off as much as he apparently does? No wonder they never seem to have any fucking funding; all of Hermann’s paychecks are funneled directly into his—well.

Newt recalls the faux-injury incident Hermann mentioned in a comment with mild embarrassment. No wonder Hermann had been so weird and flushed when he opened his door, and made excuses to say bye to him so quickly—Newt just caught him (oh, boy) immediately following the best orgasm of his life. Well, mild embarrassment, and a little more than mild arousal. What Newt would’ve given to have been there five minutes earlier, to watch Hermann in the act of the best orgasm of his life, to maybe even be the one to cause it…

What Newt would give to use Hermann’s fancy-shmancy vibrator on him, or literally anything from his giant masturbatory arsenal. Or even just watch him use it on himself. Hermann’s just so damned buttoned-up and uptight—it’s all about the contradictions. Juxtapositions. Newt unzips his jeans and sticks his hand down his boxers. “Stupid Hermann,” he moans, as he begins to bring himself off to the image of Hermann with that stupid kaiju dildo down his throat and that stupid jaeger vibe up his ass. Negotiator of peace between the two? Stupid joke, stupid Hermann. Or maybe he’s picturing Hermann showing up to the lab, all plugged up and loose from using a different vibe on himself that morning. Or maybe Hermann pushing two dildos into himself at once. How the hell can he even manage that? Ass his size— “Oh, goddamn it,” Newt moans again, and comes all over his hand.

Whatever. It’s not like Hermann’s ever going to find out about this.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous #not sfw ////

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cicada-bones · 4 years

Text

The Warrior and the Embers

Chapter 26: Death and Dreams

This was a fun one! Please forgive me for the angst at the beginning lol

I spent some time this week outlining the rest of the fic, and I found out that we are exactly two thirds of the way through what I have planned! Right now, I think we are going to end up with 38 or 39 chapters, so ive got at least twelve more to go. Crazy to think that there's still so much left in this story to tell!

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Rowan sat up quickly, a gasp already trapped in his throat. It was early morning, and the small window was white with frozen mist, preventing him from seeing much of the fortress’ surroundings. Regardless, he could tell that dawn was still far off – Mala’s golden light distracted by the waking of far off lands – and neglecting theirs.

Rowan rubbed at his eyes, seeking a way to wipe away the images that still danced behind his lids. He had been ripped from sleep by a dream, by the same dream that had been torturing him all week.

A nightmare that was not a vision, but a memory. A memory of the night he had spent two centuries trying to forget, and now was running like a cold river through his mind, relentless and inescapable:

The wind was reluctant beneath his wing feathers, tossing and tumbling and chafing against his magic’s inescapable pull. It was cold, bitingly cold. But Rowan didn’t feel it, not through his already icy chest. Frozen not with cold, but with fear. With panic.

The familiar land of home teased at the edges of his vision, but the picturesque mountain vista was distorted, marred by black clouds and the smell of smoke. The ice coating Rowan’s heart began to crack, shattering glass exploding in his torso. Piercing and slicing as it went.

Rowan dove, his wings straining, his breaths sharp in his lungs as he rounded a corner and their hilltop rose before his eyes. And then his heart dropped completely out of his chest.

Their home was gone.

Destroyed. Eradicated. Burnt to dust and ashes.

Nothing was left. Not the cottage, nor the stables or pens. Their animals were slaughtered and left in the snow to rot. And the garden, Lyria’s precious, treasured blooms, had been trampled into the earth. Already withering.

The surrounding trees were alight with a forest fire that could have been burning for hours. Days, even. The ground was dusted with snow, but the thin coating hadn’t proved a hindrance to the flames that danced from branch to branch, wild and harsh and utterly indifferent.

Rowan’s feet pounded into the earth as he approached the ground, shifting in less than a second. And he was running.

Twigs snapped over his skin, ripping into his face. Beads of blood dripped down his cheeks, replacing the tears that could not come. One moment he was running, and the next, he was home.

Their cottage was a pile of ash and burnt wood. A pyre. But Rowan ran for it anyways, his hands digging into the remains desperately, ignoring the heat of the still-burning embers. Ignoring the truth that was staring him baldly in the face: nothing that had been in the cottage when it burned would have survived.

All of a sudden, Rowan collapsed. His knees gave way and he was sitting in the dirt. Sitting in the grave of his only home.

Her name bubbled up through him, burning and itching as it went. But his throat tightened, trapping the cry in his chest where is writhed and twitched. Pressing against his heart and lungs and throat until they ached.

It felt as though hours passed, but it must have only been seconds. Drops of blood appeared before his eyes, and it was a while before he realized that they were real, before he recognized their smell.

His eyes slowly began to focus through the haze, and they traced the pools of red over the ground, through the trampled snow, up to the crest of the hill and –

Rowan tore up the hill, a desperate hope clawing its way up his throat. His hands reached for the body curled atop the cliff face, his fingers trembling. But then her scent reached him. Her cold, empty, lifeless scent.

And Rowan felt his very essence leaking away, melting into the snow as what was left of the mating bond guttered, and fizzled out.

He was alone.

Rowan reached out tentatively, his fingers seeking to cradle Lyria’s face, to stroke her hair, one last time.

But then a frown crossed over his mouth, his face tightening. Lyria’s hair was brown, not gold. And her scent was a mixture of silk and ferns and rabbits’ fur – not this strange, bright, citrusy spice.

Confusion washed over the agony in his chest. Dulling it, and distracting him. The mountains began to fall away, darkening and disappearing in his periphery. The falling snow seemed to stall in mid-air, sparkling like captured stars. Caution slowed Rowan’s fingertips as they stretched that final inch to brush across the female’s face and turn her head towards him.

Aelin Galathynius’ cold blue eyes looked back at him, their golden core frozen solid. A hollow void. Wild no more.

The princess’ blood stained his hands, and it sunk into his skin like acid. Filling him with an infinite, boundless guilt. Aelin was dead, and it was his fault.

He’d brought her to Maeve, and she killed her. And Rowan watched.

But no – she was here, right before his eyes. Her hair was a ripple of golden silk on the pillow, each breath a wisp of delicate white fog into the cold air of the stone room. Aelin was alive and well.

But not for long, a cold voice in the back of his head interrupted. Not for long.

And Rowan couldn’t find any disagreement within himself.

For even if she survived her looming encounter with Maeve, afterwards, she would leave. Back to Adarlan, or Terrasen, or Eyllwe. Onto other dangers. And he probably would never see her again.

Rowan stood up from the bed, and the princess sighed and turned over, her arm spreading out into the empty space he left behind. He lit a fire in the hearth, opened the window, and launched himself into the night sky – seeking answers from the wind that he knew it could not give him.

It was almost as though the dream had been crafted specifically to torture him, to make every part of him writhe in discomfort.

Rowan was used to dreaming of Lyria, was accustomed to closing his eyes each evening and being tortured with her scent, her bloodstained fingers, her broken body. Her screams. But this, this…lack, was almost even worse.

He was supposed to dream of her, his lost love. Was supposed to feel that pain for every day, every second, until he was returned to her in the Afterworld. For that pain to be taken away, for it to be turned on its head in such a way, was a violation of that unwritten contract. Of the agreement he’d made with himself when he gave his life over to Maeve. And so the guilt gnawed at him, a hungry animal.

But then seeing Aelin’s face in death, and knowing it was his fault –

Rowan shuddered, choking on the image and swerving in midair as he temporarily lost his balance. Even just imagining that guilt was beyond his capabilities. He couldn’t be the death of her. He refused to be.

But that meeting was creeping up on them, drawing ever closer. Each day Aelin improved by leaps and bounds. She was a natural fighter, taking everything he threw at her in stride, and then some. Even Fenrys and Connall couldn’t compare to her.

Even so, Aelin had not even come close to reaching her full potential. The iron bars locked around her power had not weakened, Aelin had only gotten better at navigating around them. She now knew how to access small amounts of her gift, and could control and manipulate those small portions, but the vast majority remained inaccessible to her. Held under lock and key.

But it almost didn’t even matter. Aelin was powerful enough that even without access to her entire gift, she was nearly ready to meet Maeve. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Rowan cursed inwardly, and made to turn back to the fortress, the blackened sky only just beginning to pale into a navy blue.

He could feel the days pressing in on him, the end of his time with Aelin looming close. There was a part of him that wanted to make the most of that time, that tasted the remnants of her blood on his tongue and wanted to damn the consequences to hell. Aelin had claimed him as a friend – was there a chance that she wanted him in that other way as well?

But it was only a very small part. There was still that male- no, man, across the sea. The love that had sent her away. A steel-cotton-and-birchwood trace in her blood. And though his mark had been fading in her scent of late, the amethyst ring remained on her finger, a clear sign of her feelings.

No, she didn’t want him the way he wanted her. But that was fine. In actuality, it was probably for the best. Rowan didn’t know what he would do if she had decided to pursue him for anything more than friendship. Aelin was relentless when she wanted something, and Rowan’s self-control was far from faultless. And there were more significant things to separate them than a captain across the sea.

Rowan sailed through the window of their rooms, shifted, and settled into the chair before the worktable. He removed the blades from their concealed places in his vambraces, and studiously began to clean them. There was still at least an hour before the sun truly dawned, but there was no chance of Rowan going back to sleep.

He reached beneath the work table, his hand stretching into the compartment hidden just underneath, searching for his sharpening set. But then his fingers brushed past an unexpected object – something he hadn’t thought about in weeks.

Rowan pulled out the bundle and unrolled it on top of the table surface, revealing the knives he had confiscated from Aelin all those months ago. Most of them were in piss-poor condition, having been neglected for so long (and not having been of particularly great quality to begin with). But there was one that stood out.

It was silver, and though it was burnished with dirt, the metal was of good make. The edge was strong, though dull, and the handle was wrapped in a sturdy leather thong. It was a good, solid weapon. One that could remain useful years after weaker tools had succumbed to the pressure of time.

Rowan discarded the other blades, grabbed his felt cloth and sharpening rod, and set to work.

···

Soon, Aelin awoke and headed down to the kitchens to help with breakfast. Rowan went with her, thinking to grab some food before the kitchens filled with demi-Fae. On his way back up to his rooms however, Malakai found him.

The old male got right to the point. “Another body’s been found.” Rowan’s jaw locked, and a stone dropped into his stomach. “And there’s been a letter for you – it came with the courier this morning. She arrived just as I was about to go find you, so I thought I would deliver it for her.”

Malakai handed Rowan the letter, his eyes cold and hard, but Rowan knew that the aggression wasn’t directed towards him. This was the second body they had discovered this week, the other having been found three days earlier by Bas on his usual circuit. Rowan had forced Aelin to remain at Mistward that day to practice while he flew to the site to confirm Bas’ report, and to dispose of the body. But this time, he doubted he would be able to convince her to stay.

Rowan sighed and took the letter, recognizing the writing as Vaughn’s, but instead of opening it in the hallway he tucked it into a pocket in his tunic and turned his eyes back towards Malakai.

Without any further prompting, he launched into a description of the body’s location. It had been found by a sentry who belonged to a neighboring fortress to the south, far beyond any of the other sites. It had been spotted thirty-two miles directly southwest, just off the coast. Once the sentry returned, the commander at that fortress informed Malakai of the discovery.

Rowan only nodded at the male, who then jerked his head tersely in return and retreated back to the sentry station atop the battlement wall.

Each time Malakai arrived bearing news that yet another demi-Fae had been murdered it got harder. And now, it was the second time this very week. How many more would die before Rowan could figure out what the hell he was missing?

Rowan returned to his rooms in a daze, distractedly tearing open the report from Vaughn. It was short and to the point, as all Vaughn’s reports were. Apparently, Remelle, Benson, and Essar had arrived, and were now settling into the southwestern court to play diplomat and to spy for their queen – meaning that Vaughn was now on his way back to Doranelle.

Rowan set down the letter and sighed. Then began to gather up his many blades, and ready himself for a lengthy morning run.

···

Aelin had gotten even faster. Thirty-two miles – the farthest she had ever run. She had to push her Fae body to the limit, and yet they still made great time – it was still mid-morning when they arrived at the sea cliffs, where the body of the unknown demi-Fae was waiting for them.

Aelin stripped off her tunic, her chest heaving, forcing the white band she wrapped around her breasts to stretch and contract with each breath. Rowan averted his eyes, unbuttoning his own jacket while a delicate heat kissed his cheeks. He silently cursed at himself.

After they caught their breath, Rowan sent out a few feelers of wind, and they brought back impressions of pine and mist and birdsong…and a scent trail leading towards the shoreline. He and Aelin carefully approached the site, now close enough that Rowan didn’t even need his wind to scent the rotting corpse.

“Well, I can certainly smell him this time,” Aelin said wryly.

“This body has been rotting here longer than the demi-Fae from three days ago.” Rowan mused aloud. But then he regretted it when a spike of irritation struck him in Aelin’s scent. She definitely hadn’t forgiven him for leaving her behind earlier this week.

Rowan fully expected a sharp retort from the princess, scolding him for his protectiveness, but then the body of the demi-Fae came into view.

The ground around the body was torn up, the pine carpet full of gouges and hollows. There was a small stream just ahead, and even over its rushing, Rowan could clearly hear the buzzing of thousands of busy flies. All of which were hovering just above what appeared to be a heap of clothing piled behind a small boulder.

He approached the contorted form, swearing viciously as the smell began to overwhelm him. He leaned over to examine the male, forced to cover his mouth and nose with a forearm.

The demi-Fae’s face was twisted in horror, the obligatory dried blood oozing from the mouth, nostrils, and ears. The skin was wrinkled and dried as usual, but the clothes were perhaps more torn-up than others had been.

Aelin took a step forwards, her face twisted in disgust. “It has our attention and it knows it,” she said. “It’s targeting demi-Fae – either to send a message, or because they…taste good. But – ” Her voice cut off, her face becoming contemplative. “What if there’s more than one?”

Rowan’s brows raised in surprise. There had been moments where he had considered it, had though that the creature’s scent varied slightly between bodies. But he’d never been sure. And it had seemed even more unlikely that there were multiple overlooked and undetected creatures stalking the countryside.

Aelin moved to stand behind him, her scent filling with a nauseated horror. But as always, she didn’t let it overwhelm her.

“You’re old as hell,” she said, her eyes meeting his. “You must have considered that we’re dealing with a few of them, given how vast the territory is. What if the one we saw in the barrows wasn’t even the creature responsible for these bodies?”

Rowan narrowed his eyes, and gave her a shallow nod. She could very well be right – most land-locked predators didn’t have a hunting range beyond fifteen square miles, and the creature had killed over an area far closer to a hundred.

“Rowan,” Aelin’s worried tone pulled him from his train of thought. “Rowan, tell me you see what I’m seeing.” She swatted at the flies uselessly, her gaze fixed on the male’s hands, where you could just see –

Rowan cursed, crouching to get a closer look. There were small cuts along the palms, as if he had dug in his fingernails. Rowan used the tip of a blade to push back a bit of clothing torn at the collar. “This male – ”

“Fought.” Aelin interrupted. “He fought back against it. None of the others did, according to the reports.” She squatted beside him, holding out a hand for Rowan’s dagger.

He hesitated for a moment, but then her eyes met his, and he pressed the hilt into her open palm. Only for the afternoon.

Her lips twitched as she grabbed the dagger, seeming to tease him right back. I know, I know. I haven’t earned my weapons back yet. Don’t get your feathers ruffled.

Her gaze left his before he could respond, prematurely cutting off their silent conversation. Rowan snarled at her. He only got a quiet amusement in response.

Aelin carefully advanced towards the rotting forearm, gently running the tip of the dagger underneath the male’s cracked nails, and then smearing the contents on the back of her own hand.

A stain of oily black.

“What the hell is that?” Rowan demanded, leaning over her outstretched hand and sniffing the strange substance. He jerked back automatically, snarling. The smell…it was as though the stench coating the bodies had been distilled, condensed into solid form. And it was fouler than anything Rowan had ever smelled before. “That’s not dirt.”

Possibilities raced through his mind, each seeming less likely than the last. But that night-black oil…it couldn’t be blood.

“This isn’t possible.” Aelin jerked to her feet, her hands shaking slightly as she started to pace, all of a sudden filled with a manic energy. “This – this – this – ” her words came out in a stutter, and Rowan found himself rising slowly and carefully, forcing himself to press down on the panic that filled his own body at the sight of Aelin so frantic.

“I’m wrong. I have to be wrong.” The words didn’t seem to be directed at him, and instead Aelin was wrapped up in her own thoughts. No – her memories.

“Tell me,” Rowan growled, unable to wait any longer.

Aelin raised her eyes to meet his, her face tight. She moved to rub her eyes, but then seemed to remember the black oil still marking her skin, and went to wipe them on her shirt. Only then remembering that she wasn’t wearing one – only the breast band.

Her face twisted, and she crouched and ran her fingers in the stream, then rose and provided Rowan with an explanation. What she told him, astounded him.

Aelin had been holding out even more than he had suspected.

She told him of a creature, discovered in the catacombs beneath a library, within the very palace where she had been held captive for so many months. A beast with black blood and talons and a mutilated face – a demon with a human heart. Created, and held, beneath a clock tower made of Wyrdstone.

She told him of Wyrdmarks, of learning a language by firelight with the help of a friend, Nehemia, each word aching with the pain of her loss. Of how she had used the marks to contain the demon while she had killed it, cutting it to pieces right before the eyes of the crown prince.

She told him of the Wyrdkeys. And of the information that Maeve was holding hostage. Information that was necessary to stop a king who already possessed at least one of these keys, and was using it to create these demons. Targeting those with magic in their blood to be their hosts.

“The demon beneath the clock tower had been left there because of some defect, some flaw.” Aelin said, “But what if there were others, a new version that had been perfected?”

She shook with cold, her eyes cast to the ground, and Rowan sent a warm breeze her way. Wrapping the air around her like a silken ribbon, and erasing the gooseflesh that coasted her arms and stomach.

Rowan’s thoughts were twisting and contorting, but he held his face steady. This was the information he’d been missing. The connection that allowed the pieces to fall into place. He remembered the man Namonora had shown him, the man with the tale of a lethal darkness emerging from across the sea…

“How did it get here?” he asked.

Aelin shook her head. “I don’t know. I hope I’m wrong. But that smell – I’ll never forget that smell as long as I live. Like it had rotted from the inside out, its very essence ruined.”

Rowan began to pace. “But it retained some cognitive abilities. And whatever this is, it must have them, too, if it’s dumping the bodies.”

“Demi-Fae…they would make perfect hosts, with so many of them able to use magic and no one in Wendlyn or Doranelle caring if they live or die. But these corpses – if he wanted to kidnap them, why kill them?”

“Unless they weren’t compatible,” Rowan said. “And if they weren’t compatible, then what better use for them than to drain them dry?”

“But what’s the point of leaving the bodies where we can find them? To drum up fear?”

Rowan ground his jaw, stalking through the torn-up earth as if the ground would provide them with the answers they sought. But the dirt was only dirt.

“Burn the body, Aelin,” Rowan said, removing the sheath and belt that had housed the dagger still dangling from her hand and tossing them to her. She caught them easily. “We’re going hunting.”

···

Even when Rowan shifted into his other form, and circled high above, they found nothing. No trace of the creature, or of anyone at all, for that matter. This area wasn’t very densely habited – most of the local farmers inhabited an area farther down the coast.

As the light grew dim, they climbed up into the biggest, densest tree Rowan could find with several square miles, and they squeezed together onto a massive branch, huddled against the cold. Rowan hadn’t brought supplies for an overnight trip, and even with the coverage provided by the thick pine boughs, any fire would be seen for miles.

Aelin complained, petitioning to be allowed to summon even just a flicker of flame. But Rowan only pointed out that there was no moon that night, and as they had just proven – worse things than skinwalkers prowled these woods.

Instead of giving her space to grumble any further, Rowan asked her to explain more about the creature she’d encountered in the library, for her to detail its every strength and weakness. She told him readily, but nothing much stood out.

The creatures were strong, difficult to kill. Without the weaknesses of mortals, and with many of the benefits of immortal ones. As she spoke, Rowan pulled out one of the longer of his knives and began to clean it, more out of a desire to use the task to focus his own attention, than out of actual necessity.

“Do you think I was mistaken?” Aelin asked softly, “About the creature, I mean.”

Rowan turned away from her in order to pull his shirt over his head, and access the blades strapped to the skin beneath. He almost felt as though he could feel Aelin’s attention on him, could feel the slight pressure of her gaze on his back.

But when he turned back to face her, her eyes were fixed to his face. Still, the ghost of a smile marked his expression as he said, “We’re dealing with a cunning, lethal predator, regardless of where it originated and how many there are.” He grasped the small dagger that had been strapped over his left pectoral, and began to thoroughly wipe it down. “If you were mistaken, I’d consider it a blessing.”

Aelin leaned back against the tree trunk, her scent filling with exhaustion and dejection as she fell into her own thoughts.

Rowan let her be, instead turning to the familiar ritual of preparation. He systematically worked his way through his collection of blades, and then used the water skin to rinse his hands, neck, and chest, cleaning them of sweat and grime. Every now and again, feeling that faint pressure of Aelin’s watchful eyes.

He told himself that it didn’t mean anything, that she was looking at him simply because he was something to look at – an object in her field of vision. Her scent told him nothing, and so he dismissed those unwanted voices in his mind that thought that maybe, she was watching him for a different reason.

But still, the pressure felt…nice. It felt good to be looked at by her. To be seen.

Rowan pulled his shirt back on and settled his body against the trunk, his side pressing comfortably into Aelin’s. They sat in the dark quietly for a while until Aelin said, “You once told me that when you find your mate, you can’t stomach the idea of hurting them physically. Once you’re mated, you’d sooner harm yourself.”

Rowan turned to face her, the gold in her eyes glinting softly in the faint light. Her expression was unreadable. “Yes; why?”

“I tried to kill him. I mauled his face, then held a dagger over his heart because I thought he was responsible for Nehemia’s death. I would have done it if someone hadn’t stopped me. If Chaol – ” her voice broke off. “If he’d truly been my mate, I wouldn’t have been able to do that, would I?”

Rowan hesitated. He wanted to say no, that he didn’t think that Chaol was her mate. The man’s scent was fading from her blood, each day growing fainter and fainter. And it didn’t sit in that deep, essential place where Fae carried the scents of their mates.

No, the captain was a passing note in Aelin’s life, small and irrelevant. But the amethyst ring still glittered on Aelin’s finger, a reminder of the man who still held her heart. And Rowan wasn’t sure that Aelin wanted to hear that the man wasn’t hers to claim. Love could be a hard thing to let go of, regardless of how blatantly its falseness stared you in the face.

So instead Rowan said, “You hadn’t been in your Fae form for ten years, so perhaps your instincts weren’t even able to take hold. Sometimes, mates can be together intimately before the actual bond snaps into place.”

“It’s a useless hope to cling to, anyway.”

“…Do you want the truth?”

Aelin only tucked her chin into her tunic and closed her eyes. “Not tonight.”

···

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

#the warrior and the embers #tog #throne of glass #rowaelin #rowan pov

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wigwurq · 4 years

Text

WIG REVIEW: THE QUEEN’S GAMBIT

Yes it’s true - the only things I’ve been watching lately are prestige TV shows starring women with bad red wigs. I’ll get back to movies someday!! In the meantime, I finally watched all of this miniseries that has Netflix and the world aflame with love - and I am aflame too....WITH HATRED OF ALL OF THESE WIGS!!! I have so much to discuss with this show, y’all. A friend of mine (who hasn’t watched this show yet) probably said it best when he told me he thought the wigs in this show were supposed to be wigs WITHIN the narrative of the show (and therefore allowed to be bad): “wait I thought this was about a chess spy - that’s supposed to be her real hair? NO” INDEED!!! Let’s take it episode by episode (SPOILERS ABOUND) and DISCUSS.

Episode 1 - Openings

We begin in Paris, 1967. Beth Harmon, chess champion (?) awakens in a bath of ice (?) in the dark of her hotel room, clearly hung over or maybe still drunk. Her red ‘60s flip wig looks like HELL as does she, so...ok I guess this bad wig wurqs...for now. She sits herself down to play CHESS!! This whole show is about chess, obviously, and everyone is just mad about chess now! I am mad, too, because the show does not make chess seem interesting or sexy and I still hate it.

Anyway, we rewind about 10 (?) years to a young Beth Harmon, who is suddenly orphaned after her mom definitely commits suicide via car accident. Her mom has super short bangs and cries a lot. We see some even further flashbacks to an even younger Beth IN THE MOST OUTRAGEOUS BABY WIG (MORE ON THAT LATER). We learn that her mom is very unhinged, but also probably brilliant, as Beth herself will become later. LET’S HOPE SHE NEVER GETS HER DRIVER’S LICENCE (note: she never does?)

Apparently the mid to late ‘50s were all about very VERY short bangs, and on this non-wigged little girl I guess that is fine.

BUT THEN! She is brought to an orphanage where they burn her old clothes (YES REALLY!) and cut her hair into a bob (the kid’s actual hair so again - ok!) and also give her and all the other girls constant drugs! The 1950s were really wild, amiright? If I have learned anything from movies set at orphanages in the 50s, drug abuse was the main issue (the only movie I’m referring to is obviously The Cider House Rules and the only thing I remember about that movie is that Michael Caine had an ether addiction). Anyway, the sedative drugs make her immediately put her hand on a hot radiator (safety first, orphanage!)

She also makes friends with an older girl named Jolene (I LOVE THE NAME) who teachers her to save the sedative drugs for nighttime when they can help her sleep. Great advice, Jolene! Also: there is absolutely no way that African American Jolene would be in an integrated orphanage in mid-50s KENTUCKY but this is just the beginning of issues I have with this series......

Moving on! In avoiding the orphanage’s weird insistence on Jesusy choir practice, she discovers the basement realm of janitor Bill Camp, who never actually does any janitorial work (that I could see?) but definitely plays a lot of chess. And thus, her chess obsession begins! This is also helped by those sedatives she takes every night which give her really absurd chess hallucinations on the ceiling. This orphanage has it all!

Essentially, this miniseries is Valley of the Dolls if those characters got addicted to both pills and chess at the age of 9. Beth gets very VERY good at chess and some rando chess guy from the local high school comes and gives Beth a doll (BETH HATES THE DOLL BUT LOVES DOLLS DO YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE). And she goes to the high school and plays a bunch of terrible high school boys at chess simultaneously and beats them all. Also: the orphanage suddenly gets in trouble for giving sedatives to small children for years and Beth is PISSED. She goes through withdrawal and years for the big ol’ jar o’ pills!!!

AND THEN! During a kind of Jesusy film presentation, Beth sneaks away to the orphanage pharmacy and just goes hog wild on the pills! TRULY: Valley of the Dolls has nothing on this sequence.

Obviously, Beth is caught pill-handed and she also spills all the pills, breaks a giant glass jar, and then falls onto both of them. SHE IS 9. I THINK I LOVE THIS SHOW.

Episode 2: Exchanges

So after Beth’s completely insane pill odyssey, she is punished by being forbidden to play chess! Fast forward an indeterminate number of years, and we meet a slightly older Beth (now played by the bewigged Anya Taylor-Joy). AND THIS WIG, Y’ALL. WOOF. Completely dried out and bent, it really makes you appreciate the fact that they just cut the younger Beth’s hair. I realize that Anya is going to go through many 50s and 60s hairstyles to come but I really wish they had just done the same and used her real hair because we are about to take a bad wig odyssey that will last throughout this series. Also! I love that Jolene is played by the same actress! How old is too old to be in an orphanage?

Speaking of age! Beth is apparently now 15 but when a super weird couple expresses interest in adopting her, the orphanage director lady lies and says Beth is 13 and everyone just goes with it....FOR THE REST OF THE SERIES. Seriously, this age difference is never ever visited again or challenged. Beth is basically 15-17 for at least 5 years and no one gives a shit. OK? Anyway, Beth is adopted by Marielle friggin Heller (aka director of Can You Ever Forgive Me? and A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood) who has a very Mamie Eisenhower wig which is just fine compared to the bent and dry-ass mess on Anya’s head.

It is later revealed that Marielle adopted Beth because her husband is mainly away on business and she needs an older gal pal around to fetch her....sedatives from the magazine store! I wonder if Beth will totally get addicted to them again! I’m no chess player but you can absolutely predict plot devices in this series about two pawns away (is that a chess term? I still don’t know or care!)

So yes: as predicted Beth absolutely gets addicted to sedatives again (also the specific sedatives she gets addicted to are the exact same ones she was addicted to at the orphanage - WHAT A COINCIDENCE! - and also they are made up sedatives for the purposes of this show only in case we all want to get the same magical chess sedatives and see chess on the ceiling too). ALSO! Beth is still mainly addicted to chess despite the fact that she was permitted from playing it for the last 5-7 years (depending on what version of her age you’re going on?) but still is good at it? Most upsetting: she rips apart her lovely bed canopy in order to see her ceiling chess hallucinations! THE NERVE OF THIS KID!

Also nervy: bitch totally stole chess magazines from the pharmacy when she was also stealing sedatives from her adoptive mom! Kleptomania is Beth’s #3 addiction after chess and pills also comes into play when it is revealed that her new adoptive mom is kinda poor since her husband is away all the time and doesn’t give her enough money so Beth can’t enter those chess tournaments she read about in the magazines she stole. SO she writes to janitor Bill Camp and asks for $5 to enter the chess thing and if she wins she’ll send him $10. THIS IS A VERY IMPORTANT PLOT POINT WHICH WILL COME INTO PLAY LATER. So Beth goes to the chess tournament where she meets some not handsome twin dudes and a very handsome other dude named Townes.

Basically all the chess dudes at this tourney suck in the same way? To be fair: if I saw Beth walking up in her ugly orphanage clothes and orphanage cut wig, I would think she sucked at chess too? Oh also - all the girls at her new high school also think her style sucks. I WONDER IF IN COMING EPISODES SHE WILL GAIN MORE STYLE AND CHESS FAME THAN ALL THESE GARBAGE PEOPLE. Spoiler: she does and also beats this dude named Harry and becomes the Kentucky chess champion. Also! Beth’s adoptive dad totally abandons her and Marielle Heller! I still hate chess but will continue to watch this show because of its haunting wigs and lowgrade feminist vibe.

Episode 3: Doubled Pawns

This episode begins with a flashback to Beth’s shitty birth mother and her shitty banged wig and remember that time I said I was going to talk about the wig on the littlest girl who plays her? WELL HERE WE ARE. Baby Beth has the absolute WORST WIG ON THIS SHOW and given how terrible all the wigs are, that is saying a lot. This wig looks like it was ripped off an American Girl doll which had been mistreated for years and thrown of a jungle gym or something. IT IS THE ABSOLUTE WORST (as is her mom, who makes this poor kid believe she had drowned!!!)

ANYWAY. We get a new wig in this episode!!! Beth manages to grow out her orphanage bangs and allow her hair to have a 50s wave bob. Do not be fooled by the higher quality of this cut, however - the quality of the WIG continues to very much suck! WHAT IS THIS HAIR PART! No hair underneath! And everything is still a dried out, bent mess! ALSO HER ROOTS ARE A NIGHTMARE. This is also the episode wherein Marielle Heller basically becomes Mama Rose to Beth and really gets into Beth supporting both of them via chess winnings and becomes her chess manager (ACTUAL JOB TITLE). Also Beth gets nicer clothing. Hilariously, Marielle tells Beth’s high school that Beth is just constantly sick so she can skip school to go to chess tournaments even though Beth is straight up on the cover of Life magazine?! I wonder if this will at all come to the attention of the high school - IT DOESN’T! PLOT HOLES BE DAMNED THIS SHOW IS ABOUT CHESS! She does go to high school long enough for the snobby girls who once made fun of her to invite her to the dumbest party ever where they just sit around and ask Beth dumb questions about Chess fame and then all have a sing-along to a song Beth doesn’t know because she has no idea what pop culture is: ONLY CHESS CULTURE. I watched this show with my mom and asked if ‘60s parties were like this and she laughed her head off and said NO. ALSO! Beth’s kleptomania comes into play at this party where she steals a bottle of gin and leaves without saying goodbye to anyone. WHAT A BITCH.

Speaking of bitches, Beth meets a new chess diva in the form of Love Actually’s resident child drum prodigy! He has a character name but whatever: Love Actually is his name and he has longish shaggy (non wigged) hair and dresses like Crocodile Dundee and is loved and feared in the chess community for being such a non-nerd (?) chess player. I asked my mom if anyone dressed like this in the ‘60s and she said “NO! But I guess I didn’t know everyone” WHICH IS A GREAT ANSWER BECAUSE MY MOM DIDN’T RUN IN WEIRD CHESS CIRCLES IN THE ‘60s. We are lead to believe the ‘60s chess community of weirdos consists of the same 5 rotating dudes who are all at the same chess tournaments always and also possible love interests for Beth and she’s better at chess than all of them.

The only weirdo chess dude that Beth cares about is Townes, who you may recall from the last episode in which he was the only attractive chess dude at that first chess tournament Beth went to with borrowed Bill Camp money. Anyway, she runs into him at some chess tournament (LIKE I REMEMBER WHICH ONE PLEASE) in Las Vegas where he is now a chess reporter (ACTUAL 1960s JOB, Y’ALL). He invites Beth back to his hotel boudoir where he takes some non-boudoir pictures of her playing chess and Beth is all aflutter with chess love but SUCK IT BETH, TOWNES IS GAY!!! I have to say that the only believable part of this show is that the only attractive chess dude would be homosexual. It still does not forgive any of the other plot nonsense.

SO! It’s still the big Vegas chess tournament which is super duper important-chess wise (though this show also makes it seem like every chess game IS THE MOST IMPORTANT so who is to say?) Anyway, Beth and her 50s wave wig (even though it is the 60s?) play Love Actually and....they both win? I didn’t know this was a chess pastability but ok? Beth is pissed that she didn’t beat Love Actually, I hope I never have to see him again (SPOILER HE’S IN MANY MORE EPISODES AND HAD I KNOWN THAT MAYBE I WOULD HAVE STOPPED WATCHING NOW BUT I DIDN’T!)

Episode 4: Middle Game

We are still stuck with this weird ‘50s bob in this episode. IT STILL LOOKS BAD. New developments are: Beth is taking night classes at the local college (even though she is technically still in high school?) in order to learn Russian to better understand people who are more obsessed with chess than she is: Russians. Anyway, he ends up going to the most wild and stereotypical hippie party with a college dude after class and yep - loses her virginity to him. Ok? At least it wasn’t to a chess weirdo? She also stays behind and parties and drinks alone in the hippie apartment because of all her substance addiction and kleptomania. Also! She graduates from high school despite being 2 years too old for high school (a plot point never explained) and missing all that high school for chess tourneys (another plot point never explained!) OH WELL: CHESS!

Beth and Marielle go to Mexico City for some chess tournament (AGAIN I COULDN’T TELL YOU WHICH ONE). Marielle is excited because she is pen pals (OMG THE 60s Y’ALL) with some Mexican weirdo who I definitely feared would steal all the chess winnings but then ultimately just sucks in the same way the adoptive dad did. Beth also runs into those chess twin weirdos because the chess community is comprised of only 5 dudes as I said. Their hair looks bad but not as bad as her wig.

Beth doesn’t see much of Mexico City - nor do we unless you count a truly outrageous sequence in which Beth and Marielle go out on their hotel balcony and look into a green screen rendering of Mexico City that would have felt at home in CGI ghostmare, Bohemian Rhapsody. Anyway, Beth and her olde timey 1950s wig which is spending way too much time in the 60s even though she’s supposed to be stylish now, take a lot of chess baths while Marielle drinks a lot because that Mexican pen pal/boyfriend sucks so bad.

So Beth wins enough chess to play Borgov, who we are led to believe is the Russian white whale/Bond villain of the chess community and LOSES! She is pretty pissed about it but not as pissed as...

....coming back to the hotel room to discover Marielle Heller and her luscious Mamie Eisenhower wig DEAD. TWICE AN ORPHAN, Y’ALL. Mexican coroners tell Beth that her mom died of hepatitis (!!!) and Beth somehow implicates low quality tequila in this hepatitis death. I LEGITIMATELY GOOGLED ‘DOES TEQUILA GIVE YOU HEPATITIS’ IMMEDIATELY. I DON’T THINK IT DOES?!?!?! THIS SHOW IS ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS AND YES I WILL CONTINUE WATCHING IT DESPITE THE TERRIBLE WIGS AND MY HATRED OF CHESS.

Episode 5: Fork

Beth returns to Kentucky IN THE RAIN BECAUSE TV AND MOVIE DEATHS ARE ALWAYS ACCOMPANIED BY RAIN. She is about to be super lonely in the house she know owns (according to a super sketchy international phone call with her adoptive father which will definitely not hold up in court) and then...she gets a call from Harry! WHO THE EFF IS HARRY! Again, luckily, there are only 5 chess guys who need to remember and he is one of them (he is the one she beat for the Kentucky chess whatever in episode 2). She invites him over because she’s lonely!

Harry is definitely the saddest of the weirdo chess dudes because apparently he’s been harboring a secret love of Beth (who at the time of their first meeting was like 13-15 depending on what timeline you’re going on and he was...20? OK GROSS BUT OK). BITCH EVEN GOT HIS WEIRD TEETH FIXED SO HE COULD BE LOVED BY BETH AND HER BENT ASS WIG AND SERIOUSLY NO THANK YOU HARRY. Regardless, Beth lets Harry have sex with her a few times and live rent-free in her house and ultimately Harry gets enough self confidence to leave this effed up living situation since he will never be one of Beth’s obsessions (which are still: chess, pills/alcohol, stealing shit).

So Beth goes to Ohio for some other chess tournament and reunites with UGH Love Actually. At this point in the show, Beth starts wearing long scarves as headbands and her wig has never looked better because most of it is covered by the scarf. THANK GOD. So Love Actually totally chess hustles Beth for a lot of coin playing speed chess (DEAR GOD WHY HAVE I BEEN FORCED TO LEARN WHAT SPEED CHESS IS) but in the end, she still beats him for the chess title. EFF YOU, Love Actually! May I never see you again! OH SHIT HE JUST INVITED HER TO NEW YORK TO TRAIN HER FOR THE PARIS CHESS THING DEAR GOD WHY IS THERE SO MUCH LOVE ACTUALLY IN THIS SHOW OK FINE I’LL STILL WATCH IT.

Episode 6 - Adjournment

Ok so Beth and her ok wig that is mainly covered by a scarf go to Love Actually’s apartment in NYC which IS AN UNDERGROUND BUNKER AND SHE HAS TO SLEEP ON A BLOW UP MATTRESS. Again and for the millionth time: Love Actually is the worst! Especially the worst because he introduces her to all these rando bohemians he knows, including some French bitch who will definitely eff everything up when Beth is already teetering on her pill/alcohol obsession and should probably not meet any other enablers. Somehow, he does get her to quit the pills/alcohol long enough to have sex with him (UGH).

And so we are in Paris, 1967. Where we started the show with Beth’s awful 60s flip! AND WE MEET ANOTHER PLOTHOLE. Only a week before this, Beth was in NYC with hair about 3″ shorter and still wearing scarves in her hair. WHAT IN THE VERY HELL, SHOW! I realize that this show has a very vague sense of time or how old Beth is or whatever but truly: NOPE.

Anyway, it’s the night before the big match against Borgov and Beth is on her very best behavior when who should ring her up but that French bitch Love Actually introduced her to! She is downstairs at the hotel bar and just come down and have one drink and don’t ruin your entire chess career, mmmkay? THIS ENABLING BITCH!!!! NEVER TRUST ANYONE WITH THIS CRYING GAME WIG UNLESS YOU WANT YOUR LIFE TO BE A CRYING GAME. Of course, Beth goes downstairs, drinks every drink in the bar, has sex with some rando French dude and...wakes up in the icebath we see at the beginning of the show and sweatily plays Borgov in her wig that has never looked frizzier, loses, and is shamed from the entire chess community. Also Love Actually wants Beth to come back to NYC but NO THANK YOU TO YOU AND YOUR BUNKER OF ENABLERS.

Back in Kentucky, Beth....is shown learning how to flip her hair. WAIT WHAT SHE ALREADY HAD A FLIP HAIRSTYLE THE ENTIRE TIME IN PARIS WHAT KIND OF WIG GASLIGHTING ARE YOU PLAYING, SHOW?!?!?!??!?!?!!

UGH anyway, with THE EXACT SAME FLIP WIG AS WE’VE SEEN HER IN, Beth tries to be a responsible young person of indeterminate age who owns a house in Kentucky and not drink or take pills or steal shit. EXCEPT remember that time her adoptive dad said she could just have the house if she paid the mortgage? WELL BITCH SHOWS UP AND J’ACCUSES HER OF STEALING THE HOUSE FROM HIM. Which is hilarious because of all the things she stolen in this show, the house wasn’t one of them. In any case, she buys the house! And takes herself out to dinner! And has a drink! AND UH OH.

At this point the show just goes completely off the rails in addictive nonsense. Beth just goes around the house in her terrible flip wig applying makeup and barfing in to chess trophies. It’s every stereotypical drug/alcohol scene from every biopic ever except this chick doesn’t really exist and this show is wearing on my nerves and Beth has to stop making so many terrible live decisions and this wig has BETTER GET BETTER.

And then magically - Jolene shows up in the most fabulous afro wig!! WHAT! OK I WILL WATCH THE BITTER CONCLUSION OF THIS SERIES BECAUSE I LOVE JOLENE.

Episode 7: End Game

Jolene...Jolene....Jolene. Jolene. I love Jolene. I don’t love that this show uses her by making her be the “magical negro” trope who helps Beth get her life back together. Predictable nonsense! So yes, Jolene looks around Beth’s ramshackle drug den and tells her to get her life back together. AND THEN BETH DOES. No AA or rehab required! WHAT! I really appreciate that Jolene also compares her to Susan Hayward (star of Valley of the Dolls!) which is the sick burn/comparison I needed.

The other reason Jolene showed up was to bring Beth to janitor Bill Camp’s funeral. At the funeral, which is very poorly attended, Beth reveals THAT SHE NEVER PAID BILL CAMP THAT $5 HE LENT HER (AND $10 SHE PROMISED HIM) AT THE BEGINNING OF HER CHESS CAREER. WHAT A PIECE OF SHIT. It is at this point that I fully decided that I wanted Beth to fail at everything because she is a garbage person who never gave propers to Bill Camp for changing her life for the better. THIS BITCH!! She even goes back to the orphanage where she discovers Bill Camp’s CHESS SHRINE DEVOTED TO HER! SHE FEELS LIKE SHIT AS WELL SHE SHOULD! I FULLY HATE HER!!!!

Jolene is much more forgiving of Beth than me and also introduces Beth to a new obsession: squash! Ok? It does allow Beth to wear a headband which is great wig-wise (in that it hides all the seamwork). Beth also turns down these Jesusy people who want to fund her chess trip to Russia and so Jolene GIVES HER $3,000 TO GO TO RUSSIA. IF THERE IS ANYTHING I’VE LEARNED IN THE LAST 5 MINUTES OF THIS SHOW IT IS THAT BETH WILL NOT PAY THAT MONEY BACK AND JOLENE PLEASE DO NOT!!!!

Jolene does. Beth goes to Russia which is straight out of every Bond movie and gets her shit together and wins a lot of damn chess.

Though her midweight coat game rivals that of Nicole Kidman in The Undoing, her wig game ALSO RIVALS THAT OF NICOLE KIDMAN IN THE UNDOING IN THAT IT IS ALSO A RED NIGHTMARE WIG. This show spent so much goddamned money on clothes, sets, and CGI greenscreens of Mexico City AND YET NO MONEY FOR WIGS. BOO.

I did enjoy this one chess opponent’s walrus hair but otherwise, Beth’s flip wig has absolutely overstayed its welcome and is a compete and utter bent nightmare. Also! Remember that one hot chess dude? He shows up and helps Beth with Chess!! HUH?

Also every single weirdo in the chess community somehow form a chess calming circle in Love Actually’s bunker apartment and call Beth internationally to help her win against Borgov at chess! WHAT IN THE DAMN HELL? It is sweet I guess, but also makes ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING SENSE AS BETH WAS A TOTAL ASSHOLE TO ALL THESE PEOPLE AND DOES NOT DESERVE TO BE A PART OF THEIR WEIRD CHESS GANG.

Ultimately, Beth beats Borgov and wears THIS FUCKING HAT. I think we’re supposed to believe that she is now the white queen chess piece (I HATE THAT I NOW KNOW CHESS PIECES).

She is actually dressed in head to toe white and somehow convinces her American handler that she will just walk...to the airport? And despite being invited to the Johnson White House (girl go there!) would rather just wander the streets of Russia without any purse or luggage or way of getting home. THIS BITCH. She finds a new chess community of old men who play chess outside at folding tables and decides to join them WITHOUT GOING HOME TO PAY JOLENE ALL HER MONEY BACK WHICH IS ABSOLUTELY WHAT SHE SHOULD BE THINKING ABOUT AND ALSO MAYBE SETTING UP A BILL CAMP CHESS FOUNDATION BECAUSE YOU NEVER PAID HIM BACK YOU PIECE OF SHIT. No, she is no longer addicted to pills, alcohol, or stealing but is absolutely addicted to chess on a level that is probably lethal. I spent the last moments of the show demanding that the Russian chess hobos murder her and her immaculate white outfit because BETH IS A SELFISH ASSHOLE AND ALL HER WIGS ARE GARBAGE LIKE HER!!!!

VERDICT: DOESN’T WURQ

#wigwurq #queensgambit #anyataylorjoy #garbagepeople #valleyofthedolls #babywigs #pillpoppinorphans #Istillhatechess #loveactually #marielleheller #wiggaslighting

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harryp22h · 4 years

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[FGO Fan Servant Redux] King Sejong the Great (Genderbent)

안녕하세요!

This is a remake of last year’s attempt at making a fan Servant, intended for Hangeul Day to celebrate his legacy. (2 days late...) Probably the only Korean with an actual chance of making it into FGO, if DW ever allows that.

Introducing, King Sejong the Great! Genderbent, of course. Because this is Fate, what were you expecting? (I know it’s not completely historical, but it makes for a fun story.)

Name: King Sejong the Great

Class: Caster

Origin: Korea – Joseon Dynasty (1400s)

Alignment: Lawful-Good

Type: Man

Bio: Curiosity. Generosity. Spite. The 4th King of Korea’s Joseon Dynasty.

An insatiable thirst for knowledge, both scientific and magical, and knack for inventing that led to the kingdom’s first royal research institute. An all-giving kindness for her downtrodden people that weakened her status and health. A pure spite for the nobility, inheritance from her father and reinforced by tragedy. She sought to bring meritocracy onto an already stagnant society. Welfare for the poor. Knowledge to all. For in her eyes, all were genuinely equal.

She who utterly shattered the status quo and changed the course of a nation with just one invention, personally handmade by the King herself. Hangeul, a written alphabet for her people that even a peasant could learn in a week. An invention that may have saved them centuries in the future.

She truly earned the title of ‘The Great.’

[Skills, Additional Sprites, and Lore]

Class Skills

Territory Creation Rank A-: The Hall of Worthies, her kingdom’s first Royal Research Institute, which contained the King’s personal workshop and gave birth to many creations.

Item Creation Rank B: Was personally involved in the creation of Hangeul and many other projects at the Hall of Worthies in the fields of agriculture, astronomy, warfare etc.

Personal Skills

Patronage B: Served as patron to the Hall of Worthies, when she wasn’t busying herself there already. Heavily believed in meritocracy and held the belief that anyone, regardless of status or lineage, could succeed if given the chance. Personally, she handpicked a peasant for the position of Royal Engineer, a true embodiment of her beliefs.

Charisma C: Wildly popular amongst the populous, and able to persuade the fickle Royal Court, regardless of how many times she pissed them off.

Humanitarianism A: Improved literacy nation-wide. Supported paternity leave for both mothers and fathers. Introduced tax reform to reduce burden on famine-stricken areas. Funded many inventions to help improve citizens’ livelihood. She truly loved her people, no matter the costs.

Rapid Words of Casting EX: Invented an entire alphabet for the express purpose of easier and faster reading and writing. Duh?

Entertainment Revision EX: Gains access to skills she does not normally possess. Stronger the more dramatic and flashier the skill is. Similar to Imperial Privilege. (Blame K-Drama.)

Quotes

Edison: Anyone can learn my alphabet in a week. But moving pictures need no introduction. This would have been so useful for so many reasons! Show me more films, Mr Haechi!

Nobunaga: ...For both our sakes, that ‘monkey’ of yours better not show his face to me.

Shakespeare: This is the epitome of western entertainment? Fascinating. You know, I too dabbled in poetry a bit. Perhaps we can share notes?

Touta: The people are the roots of a nation, and those roots should be well-fed so as to create a peaceful nation. That rice bowl of yours is truly beautiful. May I look inside..?

Archer Gil: How could a king who should rule over all people and all things in the country with impartiality treat those of low birth any differently from the way he treats others? I am willing to bow my head towards my people if needed. What say you?

Babbage: ...I want that! To the Hall!

Bond 1: The third child of the third King Taejong (태종), three generations separated from their dynasty’s founder Taejo (태조). Ido was the apple of her father’s eye, her curiosity and (properly timed) rebellious spirit catching his eye, but was initially ignored regarding inheriting the throne. However, her two older brothers abdicated the throne to separate themselves from their father’s bloody legacy of murdering all his relatives and many more to maintain his power. With that, the path was cleared and Ido took to the throne upon her father’s surprisingly peaceful death, taking the name Sejong for herself. Contrast to the previous king’s blood-soaked reign, Sejong devoted herself to her people and to improving quality of life throughout the nation, even establishing the Hall of Worthies to advance the field of agriculture, astronomy, warfare etc. with her patronage and personal participation. She did inherit her father’s dislike for the nobility, and for good reason.

Bond 2: She did not care for social norms and promoted meritocracy, holding the belief that if anyone, regardless of status or bloodline, could accomplish anything if they were giving a chance to prove themselves. Her embodiment of this belief would be Jang Yeong-sil (장영실), a former peasant-turned-Royal Engineer and close confidant. Having heard rumours of his cleverness, she personally invited the son of an escort to the palace, where he managed to impress the King. Excited, she took him under her wing, despite the protests of the nobility. Nevertheless, he would prove himself a worthy ally, helping to create independent advancements in the fields of astronomy and meteorology using his knack for inventing. Bonding over their love of the pursuit of knowledge, he and the King shared a very close friendship, one plagued with hijinks, ‘SCIENCE!’, and ink-soaked robes. Her trust in him was absolute, even willing to forgive him immediately when one of his inventions proved faulty and injured the test subject… who just so happened to be the King herself. Unfortunately, the nobility, jealous of the inventor and fearful for their own positions, seized upon this opportunity, having him tried and imprisoned in spite of the King’s protests.

A betrayal unlike no other. A reminder of the callousness of the Royal Court and of her fragile power.

Bond 3: Noble Phantasm: [훈민정음 – 한글]

The Proper Words for the Instruction of the People.

Rank: EX

King Sejong’s most influential creation. The one that would forever earn her the title of ‘The Great’. Developed in secret at the Hall of Worthies, its very existence alone had the potential to put even a king’s life in danger. Penned by the King personally, it was a scientifically-designed featural alphabet with 17 constants and 11 vowels, created to replace the ill-fitting Chinese characters that had been in use up to this point, in spite of Korea having had a separate spoken language for centuries. Designed for ease of reading and writing, even a peasant could learn in a busy week, an afternoon for a noble. Upon its completion, it was initially announced to the Royal Court, who opposed its very existence. Even those loyal to the crown protested, fearful that a literate populous would prove unruly and rebellious. In spite of, or perhaps because of the protests of the nobility, it was released on October 9, 1495, immediate adopted by the public.

Bond 4: Literacy reached an all-time high. It would kickstart a literary Renaissance that would last for generations, as even the peasants, now literate, could participate, partaking in others’ adventures while sharing their own experiences. Even the nobility, initially disdainful, would later adopt it, both in private and public affairs. But their warnings were right, in a way. An educated populace with ease of communication and plenty of grievances (for future kings) meant many rebellions to come. But it also united a nation. There were no true boundaries between the rich and poor, city and rural. All could communicate to one another, and thus all were made equal. Whether they wanted to be or not.

It may have even saved Korea completely. During a time of both China and Japan pushing and pulling the nation apart, especially during Japan’s forced occupation and colonization, Hanguel allowed the culture and history of Korea to be safely preserved, when it might otherwise have been lost to history, losing them their future as a nation. They prevailed, all thanks to an alphabet anyone could learn, and were restored their heritage.

Bond 5: She claimed to have lived a sheltered life in the palace, but her love for her people far exceeded that of someone who only saw them from above and beyond stone and wooden walls. Nevertheless, she truly saw all as equal, never dismissing a complaint just because it came from a peasant or allowing people with power to abuse those who were underneath them. Sadly a quality lacking even to this day... She is one of only 2 Kings of Korea to have earned the title ‘The Great’ and for good reason. Wise beyond her years and even her society, she devoted everything for her people.

“The people are the roots of a nation, and the roots should be strong so as to create a peaceful nation.”

#FGO #Fate Grand Order #fan servant #OC #servants I want in Fate #Please excuse my poor drawing skills #Hangeul #King Sejong #genderbend

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blackcatanna · 4 years

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Playing Kazama's Route Because I Guess I Hate Myself Part 1: Kyoto Winds

So, I'm going to play through everybody's routes on Hakuoki and vent my feelings and frustrations on here! I've already done Saito and Iba but I will play them again soon, too. Next up is Kazama, mostly because I'm curious to find out if this fucker has any redeeming qualities. Maybe if you're into nonces. Idk.

Wow, I had forgotten how gloriously campy this intro is :') I love it so much!

Playing through the prologue because it sets the tone of blood, death and assholes. This game is much more violent, tragic and much less horny than I had predicted and I guess I'm into that.

Aw, Chizuru bae is so lonesome and vulnerable <3

Kodo flashback! HIIISSSSSSSSSS!!! >:(

Just taking a moment to appreciate how beautiful and romantic the nighttime environment and music is <3 At least, until people start getting slashed up X_X

OKAY GAME, WE GET IT: CHIZURU IS HORNY FOR HIJIKATA. GOD.

Okita is enjoying this waaay too much X_X

Chapter 1

WIGGLE WIGGLE WIGGLE

Thank you for untying me, InouBAE!

THEY'VE BEEN DISCUSSING THE SITUATION SINCE MORNING BUT NOBODY THOUGHT TO SUGGEST MAYBE NOT REVEALING MORE SENSITIVE INFORMATION WHILE I'M IN THE ROOM?! I'm surrounded by idiots -_-

Apparently, "They are all truly gentlemen." Uh-huh.

Hooray for Chizuru calling out Okita for being a douche. And Hijikata for calling everyone a bunch of kids! Where is the lie? :')

Um, why has the camera zoomed in on Nagakura's crotch? Chizuru, please control your thirst. This is a life or death situation.

Now Saito's telling Okita to stop being a prick and Okita's response is, "hehe." X_X

Casual suicide jokes... Reminds me of my friends at uni X_X

RUN FOR YOUR LIFE 8O I can't see how this could possibly backfire...

OMG Kondou describing not recognising a girl as "The shame of a lifetime!" XD

"Maybe it's time you spilled your guts, kid." Is he... Is he telling me to commit seppuku?! O_O "I looked at him and nodded." GOODBYE CRUEL WORLD.

Although, with Harada threatening to strip me, suicide doesn't look like such a bad option X_X Tell me, Inoue, WHERE ARE THESE GENTLEMEN YOU WERE TELLING ME ABOUT?!

Feminist Hijikata wants to kill me regardless of gender :') We stan a woke queen.

Feminist icon Sanan also thinks that gender is irrelevant but doesn't want to kill me because THEIR JOB IS LITERALLY TO PROTECT PEOPLE.

You search so hard for Kodo and he turns out to be such a treacherous snake :'(

Bad feminist Hijikata calls the Shinsengumi "sons of bitches" for feeding me to him as his page. The Shinsengumi are strong, independent bitches in their own right.

Escaping execution but being quietly upset about having to wear ugly boy clothes for the foreseeable future is a mood.

More of Hijikata threatening to cut off Okita's tongue, please!

What does Chizuru have against afternoon drinking :P Clearly she has never enjoyed a long glass of Pimm's on a warm Summer afternoon! I guess she is pretty young...

Hijikata isn't here so can I please sneak out with you guys instead of staring at the wall all day?

Reeeeeeally want to pick the yes to dressing like a girl option but apparently that's not what Daddy Nonce wants :( HE'S NOT EVEN SHOWN UP YET AND HE'S ALREADY RUINING MY FUN! >:(

Well, now we're literally running away from Nagakura and Inoue. I'm getting High School flashbacks.

Wait, why is Heisuke being weird about Saito being in my room? Did this happen last time too? Maybe I just forgot or maybe it's because I was hanging out with Heisuke and Harada before...

This dinner is terrifying.

Survival of the fittest? More like survival of the FATTEST! Amirite? Anyone? No? I'll stop.

Takeda admittedly has a point about you not earning your place in the Shinsengumi. And he has great hair. So I can almost forgive him for being a mega bitch.

"His swordsmanship is decent, BUT he is well read and possesses a cunning mind for military science." Not sure if a translation error or Hijikata just hates nerds?!

Does accompanying Hijikata as his page get me bonus Kazama Sexy Points purely because it pisses Hijikata off?

Chizuru once again being in mortal peril but getting distracted by Iba's beautiful face is relatable af.

"Takeda huffed smugly to himself and WADDLED out of the store." What a majestic image we have been blessed with :') The bitchiest penguin ever to waddle this Earth!

Iba happily munching his bean jelly is a MOOD.

Chapter 2

Okita telling you that you're here to keep him company on his rounds is exactly the kind of bullshit that I'd expect from him X_X

Guess I'm just running into a battle...

Oh, it's Kazama. Sitting on the windowsill like the edgy bastard he is.

Aaaand he just killed a guy on his own side. Classic edgelord move.

And apparently I have to thank him for this display if I want him to be my waifu.

Seemingly, Chizuru is thirsty for this slut and is being REALLY FRICKING OBVIOUS ABOUT IT X_X

OH HE DID NOT JUST CALL ME THE SHINSENGUMI'S BITCH. Although, it is somewhat accurate XD STILL A DICK MOVE AFTER I THANKED HIM SO NICELY, THOUGH.

AND HE SAYS THAT I HAVE MANNERS, BUT WHERE ARE YOUR FREAKING MANNERS, YOU EDGY THOT?!!!

I have a feeling that a lot of this will be typed in caps from now on -_-

Oooh he winked! I cannot handle this intense eroticism!

Surprise Saito! My favourite flavour of surprise (see, "Shinsengumi's bitch")!

The Shinsengumi are grateful for my efforts and, thus, have gifted me with the great gift of sweeping <3

Hijikata and Iba are so cute <3

Kazama's being edgy again X_X and murdering people. Classic Kazama.

Oh wow, he's actually calling us peasants.

Aw, we're talented peasants <3 How generous of him!

HOW DARE HE TRASH TALK OKITA LIKE THAT! Wow, I'm actually defending that asshole X_X

Hijikata baring his teeth like an angry doggo XD

I'm super mad at Kazama for killing that poor Shinsengumi guy :'( Such a thoughtless waste of life :'(

Now he's mocking Nagakura's obedience to the Shogun. What are your lofty ideals, Kazama? Ah yes, you want to subjugate and enslave the human race. How... noble...

Okay, so, apparently, Kazama is being a huge, murderous pain in the ass because he's just OH SO CONCERNED for the pride of his human allies. I don't buy it.

Ah, Hijikata called Kazama a petulant child :') Truer words were never spoken!

Okay, now Hijikata is saying that they don't deserve an honourable death?! Wow, Hijikata. That comment is not going to age well, I can tell you.

So maybe I agree with Kazama here!? He still shouldn't have murdered that guy, though.

I seriously don't understand why Hijikata is so keen to slaughter these guys and potentially lose more of his men just to force them to suffer a shameful death?! Maybe he doesn't see dying that way as dishonourable but I have no patience for people forcing their ideals onto others.

Aaah! Kazama throwing Hijikata's insult back in his face is pretty brilliant!

Kazama just sliced me in the face! Sexy?!

Sexy Points with Kazama because he's confirmed your full BROOD MARE potential.

Kazama likes calling people bitches so we have that in common.

So, now Hijikata respects them for committing seppuku?! I am CONFUSED.

Oh, now I'm getting Itou's origin story?! This is unexpected!

Wait, have I broken the game and accidentally romanced Kondou?! What is happening right now?! X_X

Oooh! I'm getting sword training! Yes please! This is better than sex :D

Feminist icon Kondou isn't going easy on me just because I'm a girl :D

Chapter 3

Aka: Sanan's breakdown!

"Those were his last words." O_O I... hope that that's not true...

Okay, now he's throttling me! I take it back! Somebody fillet this crazy fucker!

OMG WAS THAT CRUNCHING SOUND MY NECK?!

But why is he choking me when he could be sipping on my delicious blood? O_o

The awkward moment when your creepy brother is a hotter woman than you X_X

Apparently, Kazama's gazing at me with bloodlust. How romantic.

Haha! Apparently Kazama's hand is "pale and grasping like the tentacle of some hideous subterranean monster." X_X Hot.

Yay! Rescued from tentai boi by HajiBAE and SanoCUTEY! And Harada is calling out Kazama for being a creep :') This is a good day.

Kazama's response burn is weak. The culture and the nose of a dog? What does that even mean? Even if Harada's nose looked like a dog's, that'd still be pretty weak, imo.

Ha! Saito's response is basically just an Uno reverse card but I'm always here for calling Kazama out on his hypocrisy.

Omg, now Yamazaki is kidnapping me and Shiranui's calling him out! None of these hos have any chill!

Amagiri is taking a break from fighting to read Shiranui for being a hotheaded pain in the arse.

Hijikata is rightfully calling me an idiot for drawing my sword on Kazama :')

Kazama's insults are so blunt and childish but it's so funny! He just called Hijikata a weak shit! Apparently, fighting him is an honour and Hijikata isn't giving this diva the attention he believes he deserves.

Hijikata needs to stop calling me Kid X_X

"Sleazebag" = accurate.

Ooh, Sanan is paying me a late night visit! How risqué!

Of course I want to learn more about the water of life but The Grand High Nonce would apparently disapprove so I guess I'll have to wait until another route to find out :'(

Apparently Kazama's not going to abduct me TODAY. How reassuring.

I relate to Kazama admiring the beauty of the temple but he lost me by being a hypocrite again. Apparently, he doesn't understand how humans can destroy their creations with their wars. KAZAMA IS FIGHTING WITH THE PEOPLE WHO WANTED TO BURN KYOTO AND THEY PARTIALLY SUCCEEDED. Kazama can only destroy things, as far as I can tell.

Now he's ranting about how they lie, deceive and kill. Pot kettle black? "If they want something, they'll steal it." UGH, KAZAMA, YOU HAVE REPEATEDLY TRIED TO STEAL ME YOU HYPOCRITICAL FUCKWIT. HE'S SO FRUSTRATING. SUCH AN INSUFFERABLE COMBINATION OF PRETENTION, HYPOCRISY, CRUELTY, HUBRIS, I could go on XD I should stop... For now...

AAAAAH HE JUST SAID NOT TO TRUST THE SHINSENGUMI BECAUSE THEY KILL THEIR OWN MEN WITHOUT BATTING AN EYELASH. THAT'S WHAT KAZAMA DOES WHEN YOU FIRST MEET HIM! BUT I GUESS IT DOESN'T COUNT TO HIM BECAUSE THE MAN WASN'T PART OF HIS SUPERIOR RACE!

Sen = <3

Chapter 4 (This is where I went to sleep)

I feel like we could have got away with killing the guy who was SENTENCED TO DEATH if fricking Sanan hadn't shown up and revealed his alive-ness!

Aw, Itou is concerned about my arm!

Aaaaand he's ruined it by being a cunt XD "Would you like to know?" "Yes." "I won't tell you." X_X

Heisuke, Saito... HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME... WHEN I NEEDED TO... POSSES YOU... I HATED YOU; I LOVED YOU TOO... BAD DREAMS IN THE NIGHT.... *Continues singing Wuthering Heights and dances around the room dramatically*

"And then they were gone" :'(

Tbf, I'd be pretty mad if my comrades had been doing such dangerous, fucked up experiments behind my back.

"I am more concerned about the soldiers being left behind." - lies!

Wait, Sanan knew Itou "really well"?! Their only interaction until now was Itou being a mega-douche to him. I have so many questions!

Aw, Sanan trusts that our friendlings will return <3

Ooh! Going on a manju adventure with YAM!

Kazama strolling down the street and everybody being pushed out of the way by the douchebag waves rolling off of him.

Okay, so Kazama has come here alone to get pissed amongst humans?! That seems implausible...

"I might even allow you to pour me a drink." BLEUGH BLETCH BLUUURGH.

I CANNOT WITH THIS THOT AND HIS HYPOCRITICAL BULLSHIT. HOW DARE HE BRAG ABOUT HOW COOL AND DOWN WITH THE KIDS HE IS TO BE DRINKING WITH HUMANS AND THEN SLAG ME OFF FOR ASSOCIATING WITH HUMANS?!

If I'm supposedly so curious about the demon lifestyle, can I PLEASE just run away with Sen? :'(

WHY IS NOBODY ASKING WHAT I WANT?!? X_X I WANT TO GO WITH THE COOL DEMON LADIES!!!

"Yukimura. What do you have to say about this?" FINALLY!!! THANK YOU, KONDOU!

I really want to go but the game won't let me XD

Souji is correct. I clearly have rocks for brains XD

"Gosh" Appropriate reaction.

AAAAAAAAND MY BELOVED SHINSENGUMI IS IMMEDIATELY ENDANGERED BY MY POOR DECISIONS.

Ooh! Physical contact with Kazama! Sure, he's violently grabbing me but this thirsty bitch will take what she can get XD

Harada has the best put downs :') "Barging in here to get yourself a wife! You think you'd get the point by now after all these rejections..."

"You fools have no idea of her worth." BITCH I AM A well, not human but SENTIENT BEING! THEY TREAT ME WITH MORE RESPECT THAN YOU EVER DID YOU MASSIVE CREEP. I AM MORE THAN JUST A WOMB, YOU HO!!!

"She is most valuable when used by a fitting partner." THA FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?!???! NOPENOPENOPE. A FITTING PARTNER WOULD NOT "USE" ME, BITCH.

"HA! So you decide to take her against her will just because you're too scared of the rejection you'll get from flat-out asking her out, huh?" YES HARADA!!! YOU CALL OUT THIS FUCKING NONCE!!! ALL RAPISTS ARE COWARDS!!! "You're so lame and creepy." WHERE IS THE LIE?!??

Meanwhile, Hijikata just makes it clear that he'd happily slice through me. Good to know.

I shall WIGGLE my way out of this situation! What do you mean it didn't work?!

YAAAS KONDOU! YOU FIGHT THAT BITCH!!!

OMG I JUST FELL ON TOP OF OKITA AND NOW HE'S SLUT SHAMING ME! XD

"Tell me... How is it? On top of me. Does it feel good?" O_O O_O O_O This game just got a lot more spicy!

Just fuck already! If only to piss off Kazama X_X

Aw, poor sick Okita <3

How dare they mention that the new HQ has a huge bath for warriors to bathe together and not have another thirst scene :P

Now Harada and Nagakura are slut shaming each other for having their tiddies out in Winter :')

Does this count as sexposition? Politics + tiddies?

"Itou dies." This is what happens when you base a game around true events! Problems aren't solved with the power of love and friendship! X_X

YES SAITO, PLEASE PROTECT ME FROM THIS MURDEROUS NONCE!

Chapter 5

At least in the normal route where nobody loves me, I don't get shot at by cannons O_O

There are a lot of typos in this chapter already. Perhaps the developers didn't expect anyone to be INSANE enough to romance Kazama.

DON'T TELL THIS RANDOM GUY YOUR PLANS YOU FOOL!!! IF THIS GETS INOUE KILLED, IMMA BE SO MAD!!!

NO INOUE!!! DON'T DRINK THE CRAZY JUICE!!!

NOOOOOO!!!! INOOOUUUUEEEE!!! :'(

Yes Queen, you call out those murdering cowards :'(

FFS I just got hella shot X_X

NO YOU GUYS ARE THE MONSTERS!!!

Apparently, I'm a "Noble Demon specimen" BITCH WHERE?!

"Why was Kazama helping me?" UM, HAVEN'T WE BEEN THROUGH THIS?! BECAUSE HE WANTS TO "USE" YOUR FERTILE WOMB TO BREED A NEW LINE OF DEMON CHILDREN.

"Shoot me? To death?" XD

"Kazama glared coldly at the pile of dismembered corpses on the floor" :') So romantic!

OMG IT'S THE BETTER DRESSED VERSION OF ME!!!

"Actually a man." UM, A CHILD, SEEMINGLY.

The whole creepy demonic family together at last :')

STOP CALLING ME ADORABLE AND LITTLE YOU CREEPY DEMON CHILD.

"What you're doing is disgraceful." YOU TELL HIM KAZAMA.

"Mind if I kill your family, right here and now?" O_O Kazama has zero chill! Thanks for asking, though, I guess. Go for it, Kazama XD

Oh, apparently I'm going to "talk to them" X_X

"Kodo, I could murder you over a thousand times, and it still wouldn't be enough for me." This is the most I've ever liked Kazama.

Doesn't Kazama work directly with Kodo in various routes?

Why can't I vanish like smoke? :'( Where are MY cool demon powers? :'(

"Turns out the only one capable of keeping you safe when you needed them most was me -- not them." HOW DARE YOU!!! INOUE GAVE HIS LIFE PROTECTING ME AND YOU'VE NEVER PUT YOUR OWN PRECIOUS NECK OUT THERE FOR ANYONE IN YOUR ENTIRE LIFE YOU POMPOUS ASS!!! YOU'VE NEVER HAD TO WORK FOR ANYTHING IN YOUR WHOLE LIFE, HAVE YOU?! YOU WERE BORN A DEMON PRINCE AND THAT MAKES YOU THINK THAT YOU'RE BETTER THAN EVERYONE ELSE?!? BECAUSE YOU HAVE POWERS YOU DIDN'T EARN?!

"If your idea of a good time is seeing the rotting corpses of your friends, be my guest..." 8_8 :'( No, they can't all be dead! Surely not! Kazama don't say things like that!

The Yodo are going to betray the Shogunate?!? I must warn them D:

Wow, this just got heavy and real sad.

Wait, did he just admit to meddling in the war?! He is such a hypocrite!!!! Aaaaaaah!!! Somebody call him out on his bs!!!!

SEN AND KIMIGIKU <3 SAVE ME!

Even Shiranui sees that humans have a variety of complex motivations X_X

I AM NOT YOUR FUTURE WIFE!!!!

Do the Shinsengumi just assume that I'm dead?!

Great, now I'm on a road trip with this cunt.

"I've never actually been this close to a man before..." Calm down! That horse is third wheeling so hard right now. And what about that time you fell ON TOP OF Okita?!

Welp, that's it for Kyoto Winds! Onwards to Edo Blossoms! I still don't like Kazama but at least murdering the ever-loving FUCK out of Kodo is a cause that I can believe in. Although, one of the reasons that I hated Kodo in Saito's route was because he was helping the same sex pest I'm now galloping across the country with. Huh.

This is the most that I’ve ever used the word, “nonce” in my entire life and this is only the first game.

#hakuoki #hakuouki #kyoto winds #kazama chikage #watch me lose my marbles #Spoilers #sorry kazama fans #so many words

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deck16 · 4 years

Photo

Good Bad Ugly - Pillars of Eternity

I’m writing this to get some closure. This game has set up an embargo in my brain, and I need to write this to put it behind me so I can move on.

Pillars of Eternity is a spiritual successor to the Baldur’s Gate games of the 1990’s.

I have a love-hate relationship with the game. It seems the world at large doesn’t, with a score of 89 on Metacritic. Read on for what I think…

I didn’t get too far into the game. Made it to Defiance Bay, and did a number of quests there. Is that far enough to get a good idea of the game? I think so.

One nifty feature is the ability to add your own character art. I stole mine from Deviant Art. Before you click the link... can you guess which one is mine (as opposed to the rest, which are in-game characters)?

The Good

Spot-On Spiritual Successor. It is a good remake of the Baldur’s Gate games. It updates the look and feel but keeps the spirit alive.

Engaging Characters. I liked most of the party members. Some were endearing enough that I wanted to keep them around. Some had story things going on that I really wanted to uncover. I truly did enjoy talking to them, following their stories, and listening to their voice acting. (Except Durance. He seemed like the person from D&D who plays “Chaotic Neutral”. You can stay on the crossroads, Durance, and find yourself some other party.)

Pretty and Polished. It’s technically limited but I don’t hold that against a game born of Kickstarter. The environments are pretty and the user interface is pleasant. The combat goes above and beyond with some pretty effects.

Difficulty Options. Lots of options to fiddle with difficulty. Want to have hard combat but no restrictions on accessing your global inventory stash? You can do that.

Pew, pew! Many of the spells have pyrotechnic flair.

The Bad

Normally, with these, I use dot-points to keep myself on-track and terse. Forgive me, I’m departing from that for the first point.

Real-Time With Pause

Real-time with pause is a means of controlling your characters where everything happens simultaneously (like it does in reality) but you can pause at any time to plan and action things carefully. This is opposed to turn-based where characters take turns, either individually or as a group. Pillars only supports real-time with pause.

Which is better? It’s a matter of taste, of course, and it’s controversial.

As for me? I hate real-time with pause.

Actually, let me walk that back a little. I hate it unless the game gives you a flexible AI system for “programming” your characters. Like Dragon Age did (to my approval).

Pillars sort-of has AI options. But they’re rubbish. Choose your poison: turn it on and correct the dumb things it does, or turn it off and do every little thing yourself.

But that’s not fair, is it, saying I have to “do every little thing” myself? After all, isn’t that literally what happens in a turn-based game? So it’s not as simple as that. For some reason I get pissed off when the fighter doesn’t take two steps to the left to attack an enemy really close to him in Pillars, but I don’t get angry when I have to do much the same in Divinity: Original Sin.

I think it has something to do with irritation and interruption. I can’t concentrate on one thing in a real-time with pause game. I have to constantly be watching. Is the fighter close enough? Has the archer stopped firing because she killed her last target? Is the wizard about to be attacked in melee? If so: pause, fix, resume.

In a turn-based game my concentration is on one thing at a time. Sure, I have a grander strategy in my head. But when I’m creeping my rogue up for a sneaky flanking attack I don’t have to keep an eye on whether the fighter needs a healing potion or the chanter has charged up enough song-power to cast a decent spell. That can wait.

I found myself dreading combat in Pillars. That’s not a good sign. Contrast with the Divinity: Original Sin Games, where I loved to lose because it meant I could re-try the same combat again.

The old “bottleneck-in-the-door” trick eh? Tried and true.

And now back to bullet-points for the other Bad things:

Obscure Rules System. Obviously they couldn’t pinch D&D’s RPG system, so they cooked up their own. I only vaguely understood it. Is (for example) “Accuracy (+10) vs. Reflex” is good or mediocre? No idea. I’m picking equipment and character level-up perks based on loose guesses. Now this might be mostly because real-time with pause smears combat into an unintelligible soup. Maybe I would’ve gotten a better sense of things if I could see things happen action-by-action?

A Load of Lackluster Lore. The game’s lore is cliché, it’s boring, and it’s waved in your face. It’s not bad, but it doesn’t rise above mediocre.

The Ugly

There’s only one Ugly thing, but it’s a big one!

Bad Backer Bunkum

Pillars was a Kickstarter game, and so they added extra pledge tiers to entice bigger donations. That’s fair enough in and of itself. But they took it too far.

Pledge US$ 1,000 or more: NAME AND DESIGN AN NPC (Non-Player Character). Help us design PROJECT ETERNITY! We will send you a PROJECT ETERNITY NPC character sheet for you to fill out for our design team. We will turn your personalized character design, with your name, class, and race into an NPC in the shipped game (within reason of course)

I don’t care about the price levels. Caveat emptor. What I care about is seeing masturbatory fan-fiction spread across the game world! It was everywhere.

The gravestones and memorials, carved with idiot memes and smug in-jokes, I could at least ignore.

The backer NPCs were harder to ignore. They looked like rejects from an anime game, standing on street corners and crowding out the locals at the village tavern.

If I accidentally clicked on one – thinking it might be an actually-important NPC – I was presented with a bit of donor-supplied fan-fiction.

I know I didn’t have to read them… but how could I look away? Even after being cleaned up by Obsidian for spelling, grammar, and continuity sins they are awful, edgy, Mary Sue yarns. There’s a drinking game in these.

(Though sometimes I was surprised. I remember enjoying a wholesome one about a character buying an old tavern and getting to work on renovations while dreaming of running a new business.)

Conclusion

Right at the start I mentioned I was partially writing this so I can leave this game unfinished. It’s not an awful game. I wanted to play through it just to enrich playing its (reportedly better) sequel. But I can’t bare to baby-sit my brain-dead party through a hundred more combats. Nor would I want to turn on Story Mode and play a game like this just for its mixed-quality story.

I’ve got a few turn-based palette-cleansers in mind. Here’s hoping they’re good.

Pillars of Eternity II, patched to include turn-based mode

Pathfinder Kingmaker, with this mod which apparently works well

Battletech

As for Pillars of Eternity itself?

Rated Ordinary ★★☆☆

An otherwise-decent game ruined (in my humble opinion) by real-time with pause combat coupled with poor party-member AI. If you are tolerant of real-time with pause, you might fare a lot better.

#pc #gaming #review #good bad ugly

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fullmetalscullyy · 5 years

Note

I am obsessed with your writing and drop everything when you release new content! ✨✨✨ If you don't mind, I want more Royai angst in my life. I don't think I have seen you do this. One where Riza is tired of waiting for Roy and decides to marry/seriously date someone else. Basically how Roy deals with this. Can be whatever you want, obviously. ☺️

oh my goodness skjhgjk bless u

me? royai angst? don’t you mean my middle name?

and no joke i had an idea for a fic like this in 2018 (almost a year to the date lmao) but never got passed like 500 words and eventually dropped and forgot about it so thanks for bringing me back to it!

(no one mentioned anything about a happy ending either 👀 fair warning!)

enjoy ;)

rated: t

words: 4458

“What?” Roy asked, disbelief colouring his tone. Dread andfear rushed through his body, but he was too much shock to let it show on hisface.

“I’ve got a boyfriend,” she smiled. He knew she was tryingto hide just how happy she was, Roy could see it all over her face. He’d knownher for long enough to be able to tell. Plus, the excitement was clear in hertone.

Catalina looked asshocked as he felt but recovered quickly. She congratulated her friend happily,and the others joined her. Roy had yet to move from his frozen position in thechair and he knew Riza had noticed. He remained in place, still, sayingnothing, and just staring at his old friend.

A whirlwind of emotions flew through is mind. Not one stoodout, leaving him feeling numb and shocked. All he knew was Riza Hawkeye was datingsomeone.

And it wasn’t him.

A sharp elbow to his side jolted him back to the present.Havoc shot him a pointed look.

“That’s great, Riza,” he offered with a smile. They all knewit wasn’t genuine, but Riza didn’t seem to notice. She was too lost in herhappiness to notice him now.

And rightly so, she should be happy. God knows she’d had atough childhood. Her life hadn’t exactly been a forgiving one, yet she hadpersevered and pulled through stronger than ever.

Roy had always planned that her happiness in her later yearswould be because of him. Throughout their lives he had only brought her sorrowand pain. He truly didn’t deserve her, however, there was always a sliver ofhope residing within him that something may happen.

Now it had crumbled to dust.

“Riza, I had no idea. When… When did this happen?” Catalinademanded, looking slightly hurt.

They all had noidea. Least of all, Roy.

But why would he know? She was just his subordinate, nothingmore.

No matter how much he’d hoped that would change.

He’d loved her for years and yet he hadn’t been able tofigure this out, pick up the signs?

She still never left the office early, always waiting forhim to finish his paperwork. He’d been a notorious procrastinator in hisyounger years but now, as a General, he’d buckled down and motivated himself topush forward. After all, the sooner he hit Fuhrer, the sooner he could admit toRiza how he’d felt for years.

She’d put up with his crap for too long. He was too slow.That’s how this happened.

“A couple of months ago,” she admitted.

“Months?”

Months.

Riza nodded. “Yes. We’ve been seeing each other for a fewmonths. We were in the academy together and have kept in touch ever since. Imet him in the hospital again while returning for check-ups last year. He askedme out of a coffee to catch up, we got to talking and now… Here we are,” shebeamed.

She’d been returning for check-ups on her neck? Waseverything okay?

And… Had he been reading the signs wrong for all theseyears?

It was too late to ask her now.

“What’s his name?” Catalina demanded. She was leaningforward in her chair, desperate to drink in as many details as possible. Shewas in the academy with Riza, so was Havoc – who Roy also noted was suddenlyvery interested in who this mystery man was – so of course they would want toknow who it was.

“Do you remember Eric Larsson?”

“The tall, blonde, hunk we used to obsess over,” Catalinapractically slavered. “Oh, Riza, you lucky thing!”

“Hey,” Havoc protested with a frown.

“Sorry, honey, but this guy was something else.”

“I know. I was there,in case you had forgotten.”

“Eric Larsson,” Catalina repeated, her tone taking on adreamy quality as she stared into space with a happy smile. Havoc just grumbledto himself. “You finally landed him, huh? Well, luck you!”

Breda shot a quick look at Roy, who pretended not to notice.It was no secret with the men how he felt about Hawkeye. Not now anyway. He’dbeen told it was blatantly obvious how he felt about Riza, but clearly itwasn’t obvious enough.

* * *

“Sir, I’m going out to the deli on 5th Street forlunch. Would you like anything brought in?” Hawkeye asked, poking her headthrough the door to his office.

“No, thank you, Captain.”

“Okay. Enjoy your lunch, sir.” The closed behind her and Roydropped his pen, brooding. Riza had only just recently begun to leave HQ forlunch by herself, and Roy supposed now he knew why. All these little things,these little changes he’d noticed, were all beginning to add up.

Deciding not to dwell on it too much, lest his mood go intodecline once more, Roy turned in his chair, overlooking the courtyard. He wassulking already, and everyone knew it.

Riza was well within her right to date and marry whoever shewanted. She owed Roy absolutely nothing. Even if she thought she did, he woulddismiss it. He’d brought her too much sorrow in her life.

But it didn’t mean he had to like the fact that she was withsomeone else.

Movement caught his eye and he looked, seeing Riza hurryingout from the entrance to HQ. A man with sandy blonde hair was waiting for her,grinning. He extended his arm, offering Riza his hand. She took it and kissedhim before they both fell into step together. Roy felt his chest tighten, hisstomach ball up uncomfortably.

He turned back around in his chair. The movement was moreviolent than intended. Storming of the empty office he left to go the mess hallto join the rest of his team.

He didn’t need another lunch break sitting alone in hisoffice.

* * *

He kissed her.

It was the dumbest idea. It was the stupidest idea. She was dating someoneelse and he had the bright idea tokiss her.

He always had been a dumbass.

But, for the briefest moment, she melted against him. Shesighed softly – almost moaning in his mouth – her lips moving against his, andfor one moment in his life, Roy was happy. Trulyhappy.

They were out at Christmas’ new bar, enjoying the grandopening. It was Friday and Roy needed the night to drown his sorrows after theweek he’d had. Riza had left rather quickly and he – in his infinite wisdom –followed her to the stock room through the back. It was dark, her voice wasquiet, and she sounded upset, but he didn’t know what about.

So, he seized the opportunity and –

He kissed her.

Riza shoved him off her.

“What are youdoing?” she growled angrily, fire blazing in her eyes.

“I –”

“You had your chance,” There was a hint of wetness in hereyes. “You had it and you blew it,” she seethed. “Don’t come running to me now only because you can’t havesomething you want.”

“Riza, I’m sorry –”

“No, you’re not,” she shook her head, hugging her arms closeto her as her fire died down, put out by the water falling from her eyes. “Youcouldn’t possibly be. If you were, you would have asked me years ago. But youdidn’t. I’m tired, Roy.” She met his gaze and her tears begun to fall. “I’mtired of waiting for you.”

He wanted to reach out and hug her, comfort her, but thatwasn’t his job anymore. She had someone else to do it, and Riza wouldn’t wantRoy to do it either. He was the reason she needed comforting in the firstplace.

“Please, just –”

She shook her head. “No.”

Riza turned on her heel and left the stock room, leaving Royin the dim light to think about how he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.

He was unsure of how much time had passed. It stretched onfor eternity before him, his future laid out before his eyes.

Cold, empty, and without Riza by his side.

“Mustang?” he heard Havoc call into the room. “You still inhere?” He sounded pissed.

“Over here,” he replied, voice thick.

“What the hell are you doing, man?” he asked. He was pissed. “We saw Riza leave in ahurry. What did you do?”

“I…”

“Roy.”

“I kissed her,” he whispered sadly.

Havoc blinked in surprise. “You what?”

“I kissed her.”

“Why?”

“I… I have no idea.” He was an idiot, that’s why.

“You don’t get to toy with her like that, Mustang,” Havocgrowled. “She’s been waiting for years for your sorry ass and when you can’thave her, you go and do something like that? Think how that must make herfeel!”

“Like shit?” he asked, his on eyes flashing at Havoc. Heknew exactly how it felt because he felt the same way too.

But the world doesn’trevolve around you, Roy boy. You know this. So, why push her to a point likethat? It’s cruel and unfair. She’s happy and you’re trying to blow it for yourown personal gain.

Bastard.

“Come on,” he barked, grabbing his upper arm. “You’re goingto apologise to her.”

“Havoc –” he began, feeling very tired.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed as they stepped intoChristmas’ bar. One look at the two and the Madame knew exactly what hadhappened. Nothing got passed her, especially not in her own bar. She frowned athim, pursing her lips. Oh boy, she wasn’t happy. “You’re fixing this becauseyou owe Riza that much.”

“What the hell did you do, Roy boy?” the Madame demanded assoon as they were outside in the cool night air. “Riza left here like a batoutta hell.”

“He kissed her,” Havoc replied for him, tone sour.

“You don’t get to play with her like that –”

“Can you save it?” Roy asked. “Havoc has already given methat lecture and I’ve already told myself that in my head.”

“Cut the attitude, Roy,” Christmas barked. “You will hear ita third time and you will hear it from me.That poor girl has waited for you to make a move or years. Granted, you hadlaws that prevented you both, but there was nothing against telling her. Youcould’ve done that, but you didn’t.”

“I told her!” he shouted in the quiet night. The other twostood quietly as they watched him, the outburst unexpected. “She knows how I feel.Always has. It’s never changed.”

“When?”

Roy paused, unsure of whether he should tell them or not.Havoc was unaware of his time in the Hawkeye household. It was an automaticreaction to hide that information, but this was Havoc. And, the Madameobviously already knew.

Roy told himself “fuck it”. At this point, it didn’tmatter anymore.

“When we were kids,” he admitted.

“Kids?” Havoc asked, confused.

“Teenagers. I studied under her father. I left for themilitary and left her behind – the second biggest regret of my life.”

“What’s the first?” the Madame asked carefully.

Roy took a deep breath, finally admitting how he felt.

“Not telling Riza I still feel the same way now.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I put it off. We had time. Silly, because life has taughtme that everything can be ripped from me just like that.” He snapped hisfingers to demonstrate. “I got complacent because the threat was gone after thePromised Day.” He turned his gaze up to sky, gazing at the stars. “You knowwhat? The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes after the Promised Day washer,” he stated wistfully. “Doctor Marco asked me to look at him, but Icouldn’t. I lied and said I couldn’t see, but all I saw was Riza.” Marco hadasked him to close his eyes again while he used alkahestry to search thesockets to check the nerves were all connected. When Roy opened them again, hetold the truth. He could see again, and it was beautiful, staring at Riza whowas looking on anxiously. “I didn’t want it to be him. I wanted it to be her.”

“Roy?” A familiar voice called to him uncertainly. His eyesclosed. Damn it. He had no idea she’dbeen listening.

Roy placed his hands in his pockets, half turning away fromthe three people staring at him. The Madame with a knowing, satisfied, look onher face, Havoc looking very surprised, and Riza. She was staring at him withan odd look on her face, like she didn’t quite believe his words and wanted himto tell her it was true.

Or that it wasn’t true.

He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t hurt her again.

His back straightened and he schooled his features into amask. “Captain Hawkeye,” he greeted formally, removing himself emotionally fromthe conversation as Havoc and Christmas looked between them both. “I apologisefor my behaviour. It was inappropriate and I do, honestly, regret my actions.” Regretted not doing it sooner. Regretted how it made you feel. “Iunderstand if you no longer wish to work with me. On Monday there will be astack of transfer papers on your desk.”

“Mustang –” Havoc interrupted, realising this was not goingin the direction he anticipated.

“The last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable inyour place of work. You can decide what you wish to do with them. Goodnight.”

He turned and walked away, ignoring the Madame calling outhis name.

* * *

Never in his life had he felt so lonely.

He’d lost everything. The love of his life, his soulmate.Riza must have felt the same way at some point. She’d been “waiting for him”after all. And he’d blown it, taken too long, so she had sought out someoneelse to comfort her, love her. He wishedit could be him, but it wasn’t meant to be. He didn’t believe in fate. Fatewouldn’t have given them the life they’d had, but he and Riza obviously justweren’t meant to be together in that way.

“I’d follow you intohell if you asked me to”. Well, this was hell all right, and he was herealone. He’d caused this, it wasn’t her fault, but this was where he belonged.

Alone.

No one came after him. The Madame had called his name, butshe couldn’t leave the bar unattended. Plus, he’s been an idiot and wouldn’t besurprised his foster mother took Riza’s side on this. The Madame had alwaysliked Riza.

Havoc had known Riza longer, they’d been in the Academytogether, so Roy knew his loyalties lay with her. Plus, the whole team wasaware of the shit he’d put Riza through. If Roy was them, he’d pick Riza overtheir CO as well.

His apartment was cold and uninviting when he entered. Itwas times like this he wished he had a dog. Someone to greet him when he camehome. At the thought, an image of Hayate popped into his head and Roy brushedit aside. That reminded him of Riza.

Sitting on his bed, Roy stared into space as he ran over theevents of the night in his head.

Why did he kissher?

Because you wanted toknow what it felt like one last time.

They’d been together as teenagers. They’d slept together.That night of her father’s funeral Roy had whispered his promises anddeclarations of love against her skin. They still stood true to this day.

He wondered if Riza remembered any of them.

She’d been pissed when he’d left her again. Roy knew that.Perhaps that’s why she had ignored his words.

All through her life he had let her down and hurt her. Shewas wise to find someone else and leave him behind.

* * *

Monday morning came and Roy entered the office looking likehis usual self – which nowadays looked brooding and miserable – holding hisbreath to see if there would be signed transfer forms on his desk or not.

His stomach dropped when he saw them sitting there. Heclosed the inner doors to his office, blocking out the rest of the team wholooked on with their familiar looks of concern.

Dread prickled over his skin as he rounded the desk.

They were unsigned.

He let out a breath of shocked relief.

Selfish bastard.

The knock on his door drew him out of surprise. He squasheddown the hope. What he’d done was inexcusable and didn’t warrant hope. Riza is happy. Without you. Remember that.

“Good morning Captain,” he greeted professionally despitethe knot in his stomach.

She didn’t sign them.

“Good morning, sir. Could I request a minute of your time?”

“Of course. Take a seat,” he gestured towards the chair infront of his desk. The doors closed quietly behind her.

Riza took a deep breath as she composed herself. Her handswere folded in her lap, her posture perfect. The way she was holding herself,it was controlled.

“I was wondering if we could talk. Privately, after work.”There was a fire in her eyes that showed she was pissed. Roy sighed. He had alot of work to do and was unsure why she was dragging this out to be longer andmore painful than it needed to be. She could have signed the transfer papersand be done with him. She could have moved on with her life.

“If you wish,” he replied carefully. Curiosity may havekilled the cat, but now he wanted to know whyshe was dragging this out and why she hadn’t signed those papers. He had arough idea but wanted to hear it from Riza herself.

“My place? After work?”

So, it really was to be private. Probably to avoid a publicshouting match.

“I don’t think that’s wise, Captain, given your new socialcircumstances.” Her jaw locked.

“I don’t have a problem with it, sir,” she replied. Roycould almost hear the hint of sourness in her tone. “It’s my apartment, afterall. Not Eric’s.”

“Of course. I apologise for the assumption. Would you like aride home?”

“That would be lovely, sir. Thank you.”

“No problem, Captain. Is there anything else I can help youwith?”

“That will be all, sir.” She vacated the seat and saluted,not quite meeting him in the eye.

She was pissed.

Probably about the transfer papers.

Whoops.

Too bad he couldn’t really bring himself to care at thispoint.

* * *

“Transfer papers?”Riza stressed as soon as they were in the comfort of her own home. “Really?”

“I gave you the opportunity to get out, should you want it,”Roy explained, taking a seat on an armchair by the fire. Hayate hopped up onhis lap and breathed in his face. Well, at least someone in this house washappy to see him. “How I acted was inappropriate and I would have understood ifyou didn’t feel comfortable working with me anymore.”

Riza blinked at him, seemingly surprised by histhoughtfulness. Then the hard tone was back. “Regardless,” she stated, enteringher bedroom to get changed. He banished the thought of her undressing from hismind. God, she had no idea the affect she had on him. “When I signed up to workwith you, I made a promise and I intend to follow it through to the bitter end.Don’t assume that I would brush you – orwhat I did in Ishval – off like that just because of your idiotic actions.” Shefell quiet and Roy heard the sound of fabric rustling.

She was right, as always.

Roy turned his attention to the room to try and distracthimself from Riza undressing and wished he hadn’t. There was a tie neatlyfolded on the coffee table, a suit jacket draped over the chair by the table.

Eric’s.

There was a photo of them both. They were smiling and happy.Roy looked away. Then, he noticed another photo on the coffee table. It was ofhim. And Riza. They were young. This was taken at her house when he’d been astudent. They were grinning, an arm around each other’s shoulders. Royremembered this. Mr. Carson from the farm next door had taken it. He felt apressure building his throat as he saw that photo. He hadn’t seen or eventhought about that photo in years.

And here it was, sitting proudly on Riza’s coffee table nextto a photo of her and her partner.

“I’ve always loved you, Roy, but I’m happy with Eric,” shewhispered.

His head snapped around to face her as she entered the roomagain. She was a vision in grey sweatpants and a hoodie from the Academy.

The revelation confirmed his thoughts and he nodded,offering her a sad smile. “I understand.”

“I… I wanted it to be you but… Eric has opened me up toother things. And it’s nice… To be loved by someone who doesn’t know how muchof a monster I truly am.”

Roy nodded, knowing the feeling. Even now, they were stillhaunted. It was expected, but it didn’t make it any easier.

“You are wonderful, Riza. Don’t ever forget that. And Iwould never take that happiness away from you. I just… I wanted to tell you howI felt. And I ended up showing you instead.”

Riza nodded, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink as shethought back to the kiss. Roy shivered minutely as he remembered her moan, herlips moving against his.

“Can… Can I admit something that you might hate me for?”

“I could never hate you, Roy,” she smiled softly.

Hesitantly, he stepped closer and grasped her fingerslightly in his. It felt so right to have them both entwined together.

“In that stock room I was overcome by the thought that Iwould never get the opportunity to do it again. The last time I kissed you Iwas eighteen years old – over fifteen years ago – and I wanted to do it onemore time. Just in case I never could again.”

Riza was silent and offered him no other comment. He didn’texpect any either.

“It was dumb, it was inappropriate, it was selfish. I knowthat. But… I know “I couldn’t help myself” doesn’t justify it, but it’s true. Iapologise for that, but you know I’ve always been an arrogant idiot,” he added,smiling sadly.

The corner of her mouth quirked up into a genuine smile.

“May I?” he asked, opening his arms.

Riza nodded and stepped forward into his embrace, holdinghim tighter than he thought she would. Roy responded in kind, holder her tightagainst him while a piece of his heart shattered at the acceptance that thiswould be the last time he’d ever hold her like this.

They had spent fifteen years already hiding how they feltabout each other. What was the rest of their lives at this point?

It would be easy. It wouldn’t crush him. It wouldn’t shatterhis heart in two to see Riza marry Eric. Not at all.

“I will alwayslove you, Roy. Don’t forget that.”

He chuckled to himself. It was fitting, really.

“And I, you.”

He kissed the top of her head, giving her one more squeezebefore he let go, driving the final nail in the coffin that was their personalrelationship.

All those years together… Well, at least he’d have them tolook back on fondly. He’d been loved by Riza Hawkeye all this time, and he hadloved her in return. Even without being able to show it or proclaim it to theworld, it had been enough. More than he’d ever deserved.

“Anyway, I should get going,” Roy announced, stepping awayto put distance between them, both physically and emotionally. “Thank you forgiving me the opportunity to explain myself. I really do appreciate that.”

“Of course,” she stated. Roy had already turned away to pickup his jacket, but he noticed the hitch in her voice. He ignored it. He had to,because if he turned around, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from drawingher to him and holding her close, never letting go.

“Goodbye Captain. I will see you tomorrow.”

“Goodbye, Roy.”

He ignored the emotion in her voice, her wet eyes, andsmiled as he turned away a final time. Roy nodded to himself as he stood on thelanding, Riza’s apartment door closed firmly behind him.

So that was it.

It was done.

He would hold onto the hope that things might not work outin the end for them both, but he would never actively look forward to thatpoint. After all, she was happy with Eric. He wouldn’t take that away fromRiza. However, he promised himself that if the opportunity did present itself,he wouldn’t waste it again.

At least they could still work together. At least he still hadthat. He would still be able to see her, which was all he asked for. Theywouldn’t be moving away. Riza had made it clear she still had a job to do whileby his side. Roy had until he was Fuhrer then she would be gone. Well, that’swhat he theorised. Her job would be done, so why would she stick around? Their job would be done. Roy would makethe changes necessary then be executed for his crimes. That was how things weresupposed to go, and that’s what he had resigned himself to years ago. He didn’tdeserve the happiness he would receive from being with Riza. Not after Ishval.

It was fitting that she would find someone else. After all,he was the biggest monster of them all, and deserved nothing.

Perhaps it was better he would never get the chance to findhappiness with Riza. He would always love her, but getting the chance to beloved by her, to hold her, to kiss her… It would make his judgement day evenworse. He would die aching for more time with the woman he had loved since hewas a teenager. This way, he would die wondering what could have happenedbetween them, but with the knowledge that he’d atoned for his sins and notenjoyed himself like he longed to after robbing thousands of their lives.

There would be nothing dragging his focus away from hisjudgement day. That was the endgame. Always had been, always will be.

Shoving his hands deep in his pockets, Roy turned and walkeddown the hallway and out of Riza’s personal life.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #ask #anon #writing prompts #fic request #emma writes

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anxietywontmakethewordsgo · 6 years

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This fucking episode, you guys

I wasn’t going to make a post like this for this ep originally, but...I went through the clips of this episode, and two scenes in particular wouldn’t leave my mind - the one where Gabriel pins Loki, and the one where he yells at the boys.

Also, a head up; this is probably going to turn into a long ass post, so buckle your seat belts and bring the popcorn and soda with you.

So, starting chronologically

(That’s not the gif I had in mind, but it’ll have to do)

In this particular scene, Dean (and Sam, but mostly Dean) are antagonizing Gabriel, giving him shit for not staying and helping them take Lucifer down. This is the converstion that follows;

Gabriel: “I call that art- but yes, without me, you two chuckleheads never would’ve known how to throw Lucifer back in the cage.”

Dean: “But instead of giving us a hand, you ran. And you just did it again when you ditched us in the bunker.”

Gabriel: “I have more important things to do than to join your little band of merry men.”

Dean: “What you’re doing, this, this is not important.”

And THIS is when Gabriel snaps, his anger, his frustration, his TRAUMA evident in the next few sentences (while all the Gabriel fangirls such as myself were crying hysterically);

Gabriel: “Everyday, Asmodeus tortured me. EVERY. DAY! He fed off my grace for years - he used me, he DEBASED me until I was-”

He then cuts off, looking over at Sam. We then see the “on the brink of tears jaw clenching™” that we often see in Dean (seriously, you guys. I could make an entire post about how many attributes these two share). Anyway, Gabriel continues with this;

“What I went through...you don’t forgive.”

The camera then flips to Dean, who is staring at Gabriel with what I interpret as a look of mistrust. He then goes on to say, “Everyone that had a hand in it, will die. Get me?”

This is particularly important, because Dean’s next words combat this point.

Dean: “Alright, you went through it. We get it. But killing Loki - not gonna change any of that. It’s not. In fact, it’s probably not even gonna make you feel better.”

To which Gabriel replies with “Well, agree to disagree, Dean-o.” (love that nickname XD)

Anyway, there are a couple different things I want to point out about this scene;

Dean’s comment on this little mission of his “not being important” is what sets Gabriel off. It may not be important to Dean, but the comment about him “getting it” seems like bullshit after he basically shot down Gabriel’s idea of self recovery. Sure, it may not help Gabriel in the grand scheme of things, as he well knows, but...it’s the first step to truly healing himself, and I don’t think Dean gets that, which absolutely pisses me off to no end.

As @flamerush101 has pointed out multiple times, he stops yelling and calms down somewhat WHEN HE LOOKS AT SAM. He looks concerned and slightly scared of/for Gabriel. I also think part of it was not wanting to break down in front of them, but THE SABRIEL IN THIS EP, Y’ALL.

One word Gabriel used really stuck out as odd to me. When he says “He debased me”, I had to stop and process for a minute. Now, I didn’t actually have the best idea of what the word meant at the time, but keep in mind; this is coming from the guy who says ‘superdoops’ and ‘raspberries’ in the same episode. Gabriel has NEVER really used words that are too far off the radar of basic language and slang. I was curious, so I looked up what it meant. the general idea is, “reduce something/someone in quality or value; degrade.”. you know what some of the synonyms were? degrade, demean, disgrace, shame, damage. Honestly, i can’t tell if this is the writers trying to keep it as vague as possible, or if its Gabriel trying to steer clear of the details of what happened to him. either way, I felt I had to point this out, so you can all cry with me.

Okay, moving on.

So they agree to help him if he helps them afterwards. Okay, cool.

...Except that we all know how flighty Gabriel is (excuse the pun). At this point in the ep I was almost CERTAIN he would still be extremely hesitant to stick around in the end. I thought maybe he would go his own way, have the boys call him up when they needed his grace, thus his appearance in episode 21. (My sabriel side said otherwise, but let’s stick to logic, shall we?)

So some action happens, Gabriel mocks Sleipner before stabbing him (ah, yes. There’s my favorite asshole). Dean does his usual reckless “bull in a china shop” move, taking the stick for Loki and going after him himself. You know, the usual.

Eventually, we wind up with Gabriel running into Loki, who looks like he has been waiting for just HIM to show up, based on a later comment.

anyway, here are some highlights of the convo, mostly from Loki;

“You think you’re some poor innocent victim. Gabriel, with his deadbeat daddy and his mean older brothers. Who will help me, who will save me?”

And then we have this back and forth;

“Of course - of course you would need someone to swoop in and save your pitiful ass.”

“Shut up!”

“Face it, old friend - you’re a joke. You’re failure. You live for pleasure, you stand for nothing. And in the end...that’s exactly what you’ll die for.”

“You first.”

Okay, SO. Here is what stuck out to me in this scene;

Gabriel looks alarmed when he sees Loki, and rightfully so. He doesn’t have the right stick, he is low on grace. He has no real way to fight him and win.

The desperate tone of Gabriel’s voice when he tells Loki to shut up. Keep in mind, Loki KNOWS his story, and Gabriel has always run away, always gone off to do his own thing. The thought that occurred to me here was that Loki knows how broken and weak Gabriel is. He can see it, and he takes advantage of it. Except, what Gabriel fears here is feeling even more vulnerable, especially in front of the boys. I think this scene in particular is what stopped Sam from pressing any further in the end, when Gabriel claimed he was fine. Gabriel and Dean are similar in those aspects, and he knows that it is best to let Gabriel keep the facade, to deal with it later.

It must be pretty damn painful for Gabriel to see a mirror image of himself spitting these truths out, made even worse by the fact that Loki used to be his friend. It is very reminiscent of season 3 episode 10, When Dean is facing off against his dream/demon self, and I think it ties perfectly into their similarities (I am so sorry, but C’MON, YOU GUYS. I CAN’T BE THE ONLY ONE WHO SEES THIS).

That split second before he stabs Loki and then when he turns back to look at the body. I am fairly certain that I speak for everyone when I say that I fucking LOVE how expressive Richard’s eyes are; he can depict an entire emotion without even speaking. Well, his eyes here...they are filled with sadness, regret. He did it, but he didn’t feel good about it. He knows Dean is right, has probably always known, but I think the revenge really was the first step to healing, to rediscovering who he is after all those years of dissociation.

Loki’s last comment, about standing for nothing. I think this is one of the BIGGEST reasons for why Gabriel wanted to stay and help them. He knows that the statement is spot on, knows that Loki is simply telling him the truth. This is especially clear when Loki uses the term ‘old friend’ rather than just calling him Gabriel. When Gabriel replies with “you first”, I feel it is a declaration, a promise - to stop running, to stand for something, even if it means giving them more grace, or going as far as to kill AU Michael. The surprised look on Loki’s face at this response confuses me somewhat - he knew he was antagonizing someone who basically had a blade to his heart. And yet, he actually seems SHOCKED that Gabriel stabbed him anyway. Perhaps because he could see the meaning behind those words as well? Either way, I feel that Gabriel wants to prove himself, wants his new non trickster persona to be different.

Also, I would just like to give Dick Speight a ROUND OF FUCKING APPLAUSE, for both his portrayal of two different characters in one episode, and for being the fucking DIRECTOR as well.

Bravo, good sir. The angels bow to you.

This is Chaos, signing out!

#spn season 13 #spn spoilers #richard speight jr #gabriel #samwinchester #dean winchester #theory #meta #i guess

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sadistsupper · 3 years

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Courting Calamity

My moral theories and comprehensive erudition would not have saved me from the basest of crimes. – slave

Karma is lessons that languish until learned, and history repeats itself. This rollercoaster can be unyielding unless you choose to get off the ride.

My Coarser Edges

My personality has arrogance, a workaholic, gullible, less forgiving than others, complaining, anger, and passive-aggressive. Emotionally shy, aggressive, nervous, anxious, and selfish. Socially sarcastic and impatient. My unsocial and poor handling of money makes a relation struggle. Sounds like the best candidate to call themselves a willing slave, right?

I won’t bother to list the good qualities because this writing reflects the lost soul that lived. No one shares the scorn with a smile. So please, as you further read this about life and the illumination of sight.

A Winsome Way

I have goals and dreams like any other. I found myself lost when achieving those goals and objectives. While achieving what I wanted, I forgot I was not the only one involved. I have family, friends, and love. I ostracized a sibling for twenty years simply because they were born. I had turned on friends when a soul needed sacrificing because I would not be the one. I had lost love because my love was all I saw.

Dreams don’t get killed by another, but by our ambitions and sense of being entitled. I remember the night I realized I had the vision, yet the dream was tainted with lies and deceit. Purposeful in truth, felt as unearned pain was my truth. I have written many articles and posts on how a slave is honest, giving, and unyielding from their soul and spirit. Even though I meant every word written, they are under the guise of guilt.

Pride roaring through the universe of success, I refused to apologize for unknown sins. As I watched the world decay around me, I lashed out in many ways. At the time, I pouted and demanded someone to fix this unfair falling. The problem was I did it all, and I was not going to let go of that secret. In that time, I got hurt physically and emotionally, not by family, friends, or my love. The enemies I stored up to hold the secrets became unhinged.

The fact is, the secrets were not secret at all. You know how we know when something is wrong with the person we care about, they all knew. On varying levels and in different ways, but everyone was worried about me. Yet there I was, screaming still for someone to fix it. I called in reinforcements; I did not get what I called for - meaning I was still left to fix it. My inner child was pissed and persistent in holding steady in sin.

Why? The truth hurts not just me but everyone else. Those you genuinely aspire to feel love from comes with the embarrassment and tarnishing of the heart. I had to expose myself and understand I could lose in the end. Yes, it is my life. I could have just walked away and rebuilt a new one. Yet those sins would follow, and in my heart of hearts, the sins did not outweigh the knowledge that what I am and who I loved was anything I was willing to give up.

Consumed by fear of losing, my sins came pouring out. Ever admit you do something then attempt to define it? Or defend it? I did both. It took true meditation and contemplation to see the whole box of crap I created. It was a big box that no one wishes to see. I jumped out of it a few times in reminiscence of being right and feeling wronged.

I will not remark on how others dealt with this or felt during this time, as those feelings are not mine to own or share. I will say that when you expose your true self, you not only feel your pain but all of theirs. It sucks, people. Sorry, by the way, it does not cut it either. Sorry is a word and mindset; happiness lives in the heart.

Ride Came to and End

I decided to get off the ride and realize I had wronged and had to fix it. Being alone in contemplation and a room with no familiar ways and wants were real. In the end, it became the beginning of genuinely triumphing in creating dreams that were not just mine but of everyone. The factor of being myself was what started it. My family does not fully understand my ways, my friends are few, and I keep it that way; my love knows all.

The one factor that finally bounds them all is that they all know how I truly feel and see a future.

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human-resourccs · 6 years

Text

He Just Likes The Rush - Ch. 7

In which things finally settle down a little and Jon gets put through the wringer.

previous chapter

~2000 words

Jonathan was lucky that he hadn't killed him right then and there, stood at his complete mercy in one of his own traps. Yes, it was definitely luck and nothing more. Another whim of his good mood, and his sense of fair play. Not the look of embarrassment on his face nor his pathetically dishevelled appearance which suggested he hadn't had a good night's sleep since Edward made his escape that first time - the implication of the latter made him swallow dryly. He would not be so quick to forgive, however; if he thought an endearingly sentimental apology note was going to cut it, Jonathan had another thing coming. But… he'd hear him out. This once. the last thing he needed was people thinking he'd gone soft, after all!

He wondered why Jonathan hadn't simply tried to contact him through the regular channels. Making meaningful gestures was Edward's thing. Frowning lightly, he reached blindly across his workbench for his phone; it used an incredibly secure network of his own making. He punched in the numbers - Yes, he had gone out of his way to find out Jonathan's contact details; so he could make a point of not using them, to prove… to prove something to himself - and dialled it in. The startled look that briefly crossed Jon's face made him smirk; there was a sort of audible smile to his tone when the other dropped the scrap of paper and fumbled for the ringing phone in his pocket - startled, but not at all surprised by it.

"Jonathan."

It hung quiet for a moment.

"Edward. I appreciate your not gassing me immediately upon entry."

"Don't thank me yet, I haven't made my mind up."

Jonathan paused, measuring his words. He… wasn't really expecting to actually face Edward so soon already. Ed spoke up again first.

"Not very good at this, are you? One would think one would try harder when their life quite literally lays on the line. Or perhaps you're just getting a kick out of it, who knows? I certainly-"

Jon gathered his breath.

"I'm sorry, Edward. I've no good excuse for what happened. I was simply acting like a complete fool."

He heard Edward huff quietly over the line.

"Yes, you were. Acting like a total idiot. When I was attempting to show concern for you, of all times!"

He had prepared so many speeches in his head to cut Jonathan down in the coldest, most efficient way possible, but this was so… blunt. Utterly honest. Jonathan had put himself at his complete mercy in this way; he had cameras and traps at his disposal. It had thrown him completely off-kilter, honestly. He wasn't expecting this. He was trying to be angry with him, damn it!

He saw Jon glance briefly up to the camera, then away again. If it weren't for the poor monitor quality, he'd have staked a bet that he actually looked guilty. Now that must have been a trick of the light. That was not fair.

"As I said, I've no excuse. And no good excuse for my continued absence after my escape, either."

"Oh, I'm quite aware of what you were up to after Dent's ham-fisted half-assed breakout. Information and intelligence are my most valued commodities. I'm sure it simply slipped your mind during your toxin-induced months-long bender. It's honestly amazing that your addiction to mortal danger hasn't killed you yet."

"…Of course. It had never been my intention-"

"You look like garbage, by the way. You look like you've been sleeping homeless for a month."

He saw Jonathan's mouth hang open, taken aback slightly. Edward bit his lip, trying not to let his sly grin be too audible through his tone.

"I think I can smell you through the camera. If they decide to re-make Castaway I'm putting you at the top of the casting list."

Jon frowned indignantly.

"Edward-"

"No, no. I'm still pissed off at you. You deserve this."

Jonathan sighed an indescribably tired sigh.

He did.

"…I do."

"Good! We're in agreement."

This continued on for approximately twenty minutes before Edward was suitably smugly satisfied with the thorough verbal dressing-down he'd given his friend. More importantly, he had the entire ordeal on disc, which left him with a larger measure of control than Jon could be entirely comfortable with. But this was the exchange for their continued interaction; Jonathan had been equal parts exhausted and impressed by the vulgar creativity he was capable of when he set his haughtiness aside; decidedly dragged through the mud, things were… more or less forgiven. It was a shaky, tentative re-alliance. Edward did not trust easily, he'd discovered.

Following the methodical verbal dissection, Jonathan bid his farewells, went home, and was promptly overcome by the exhaustion he'd accrued over the past couple weeks - he'd actually left to speak with Edward the moment the impulse had taken him; which had been mere moments after waking up from the previous day's escapade. It was a measurably more restful sleep than he'd had in quite some time.

It wasn't until a day or few later that Edward started breaking into his home again; proclaiming rather loudly as Jon came home that if he was going to continue visiting him then the place was going to have to measure up to the barest standards of cleanliness he had! Which, incidentally, was still absurdly high by Jon's standards. This was probably also a passive-aggressive extension of Edward's ire. He wasn't really complaining, despite the resulting misplacement of a fair number of his instruments.

"I mean really, Jonathan. Did you just grow fond of the abject squalor at Arkham? Decide to keep the aesthetic?"

"Been busy, that's all."

"No no no. I've been busy. You've been-"

Edward's sentence broke off with a strangled squeak as he turned and caught sight of movement in Jonathan's hair and his stomach seemed to drop through the floor, then puffed up angrily.

"Is this a joke? "

Jonathan had no clue what he was talking about until he felt the newly-familiar tickling across his hairline.

Oh.

Shit.

He'd forgotten.

Jon's eyes widened a little bit, stiffening in an attempt to quickly correct the situation.

"Now just hold on-"

"Seriously?? Did you really go through all of this just to-"

"Edward."

Something about Jonathan's expression interrupted his thought process- he'd never seen the man look so openly visibly distressed since he'd met him, and an amount of colour had gathered at his cheeks. Edward inhaled, slowly, and relaxed his shoulders.

Fine, fine.

"I am expecting a very good explanation for this."

Jonathan frowned a little indignantly.

"I. Uh... Became quite fond of her. After you left."

"You… got attached. To a spider."

Scarecrow. Self-proclaimed Master of Fear. Had become attached to a small spider. Was letting it nest in his hair. He needed a second to process the catastrophic mental shutdown this information had caused.

There was a long pause.

"...Yeah."

The anger and indignation had more or less evaporated by this point. He clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Jonathan frowned harder - the arachnid came to rest hanging just above his eyebrow. It was too much; he doubled over laughing.

Jonathan was absolutely baffled by Edward's uncanny ability to switch moods at the drop of a coin. His laughter was sweet, though; compared to the hearty fake stage laugh he employed in his criminal performances. Giggling, even. It made that warm sickly sweet feeling swallow up his heart in the way it always does; he was starting to enjoy the sensation. In that brief instant he could've told you with total conviction that he'd make a fool of himself a hundred times to see Edward collapsing into uncontrollable fits of giggles and snorts like this. At least he could attribute the burning in his cheeks to embarrassment; his face had remained the picture of indignation while he worked through the emotional short-circuit he'd just suffered.

Edward lifted his mask ever-so-slightly in order to wipe the tears out of his eyes.

"I can't believe you- you- replaced me with a spider! I suppose now I'm going to have to compete with it for your attention like some sort of trashy rom-com, aren't I?"

Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

Gotham (particularly the GCPD) was incredibly grateful of the re-alliance that they were never really even aware had occurred. From the city's point of view, the Riddler and the Scarecrow simply finally toned down their frantic activity a little and everyone could rest a tad easier for it.

They settled back into the rhythm of before; enjoying one another's company. Edward abjectly refused to get within 5 feet of Jon for a while so long as his companion - lovingly dubbed 'Aria' by Edward, who flatly refused to let Jonathan choose a name with the argument that he would undoubtedly pick something so embarrassing she would run away from home - remained on Jon’s person.

They'd settled into a comfortable silence in Jon's living room, it had passed quite late into the evening and they were content to remain in each other's presence while Jonathan scribbled horribly untidy notes of theories and formulae into his worn old notebook and Edward overthought things that he knew didn't really matter.

the journal wasn't even old, Edward mused, watching the other's hands work quickly down the pages. Things just seem to look weathered when they stay in proximity to him too long. It's like he has an area of effect that just causes furniture to age. Fascinating.

He rested his head in one hand. Drew a long breath. Something about the atmosphere, the bizarrely intimate silence finally caused a welling up in his chest that made Edward speak up.

"…I'm colourblind."

The quiet scratching of pencil against paper came to an instant stop, but Jonathan didn't look up. Edward paused, heartbeat quickening. Why did he admit that? He'd never revealed this weakness to any of the others. This… mistake in his biology. A defect he could never truly fix. He'd nothing to gain from it. But then, nobody had spared the fraction of time it took to even ask before Jon had. Whether it was because he was simply curious or because he cared; it didn't matter. He'd paid attention and after all was that not all he demanded people do in order to become more intelligent?

"You asked why I never take this mask off. I'm severely colourblind. Short-sighted, to top it off."

Jonathan set the pencil down quietly. Ed swallowed.

"I'm telling you because I trust you won't abuse this."

There was an unspoken threat behind his tone.

"Completely deuteranopic. Greens, reds, and purples. I always did enjoy taking things I was told I couldn't have. These-"

He pressed a finger to the edge of his mask.

"Are corrective. I created the tech with my own two hands. I detest having them removed and being reminded of the irritating imperfection. Amongst other things. That's all there is to it. Trivial, really."

As he spoke, Jonathan had turned to face him - an obvious question resting on his features. He wasn't really capable of grasping just how difficult the admission was for Edward, but… he had a sense of it. The notion of being trusted with such information made it feel as though his chest might crack open with the effort of trying to contain the rogue emotion.

"Thank you, Edward." Was all he could muster in response; hoping that the emotion in his voice could put across what he didn't have the words to convey.

Edward held his gaze for a few impossibly long seconds more before the intimacy of the moment became more than Ed could comfortably tolerate without babbling anxiously.

"Seriously. If - If you tell anyone about that, I'll tear you and your stupid little spidery companion apart, you hear me?"

Jonathan laughed.

#jonathan crane #edward nygma #scarecrow #the riddler #danny writes

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