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echo-hiraeth · 4 years

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Chapter 3: “Es Tuyo”

Part of the “Illicit Limerence” series

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: After having spent some days recovering and getting to her new surroundings the reader goes back to work where she seems to attract some male attention. Javier is displeased and on his breaking point.

Warnings: Major trigger warning: mention of pregnancy termination, cursing, angst, fluff, mentions of injury

Masterlist

A/N: that photo is totally Javi in that evidence closet

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“That is not how you pronounce that at all”, you cackled from the couch.

Connie threw her hands up in defence: “Well, then how? C’mon help me out here amigo!”

“Amiga”, you corrected, grinning as she set the plate down in front of you.

Your friend shook her head as she took a deep breath, lips curled up in a smirk. “You know, you’re supposed to teach me Spanish, not bully me.”

The door swung open as the both of you ate and laughed together, revealing a more than exhausted Steve. “Murphy, come sit with us, Connie made the most amazing pasta.”

He hung his jacket on the wall and kicked off his shoes before plopping down next to Connie, pressing a short peck to her lips. “What’s got you two all riled up?”

“Connie’s been drinking the night away and I am so sleep-deprived that even the telenovelas have become entertaining”, you answered, mouth full of pasta.

“What’s been keeping you up then?”, he asked while reaching over for a plate.

You shrugged your shoulders: “Just the thought of going back to work tomorrow.. I know it’ll just be paperwork but I-I’m just nervous I guess. I need to figure out a way to talk to Messina about resigning without raising any eyebrows and.. it’s just a lot.”

“You know I can get you another doc’s note”, Connie intervened, tilting her head at you.

“Yeah, I know, Con, I know. I just want to get up and get moving. No offense, but y’all can be boring as hell.”

She playfully threw a pillow at you, which hit you square in the belly, making you huff out a small laugh. “It’s not my fault we both have jobs to do, your highness.”

“When’s that first check-up-thingy of yours anyway?”, Murphy questioned.

“Next week, after hours, but I can get there myself, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Yeah, not a chance pal, the Sicarios know your face now, best to have a chaperone out there.”

Steve was right and deep down you’d thought about it too. Of course the narco-men already had most of the DEA’s information and agents in their databases, but you were still unknown to them. It was rare for a female agent to work in the field, let alone be placed in Columbia whatsoever, you’d been an element of surprise, but now even that had been taken away by Escobar. You knew a pregnancy meant the end of your career as a DEA agent, at least in the field. The past three days were meant for you to readjust to your temporary living space with your friends, but you’d really only spent it within the depths of your own head. There was so much you had to do and you couldn’t even figure out where to start, you had to tell Javier at some point, quit your job or risk putting him in danger as well and most of all.. tell your parents. The last one could wait, they wouldn’t care much anyways, you figured. But Javier couldn’t, even though you were just over a month along, you knew you’d have to tell him eventually, this kind of thing wasn’t something you could hide forever.

While you were zoned-out, caught within your own head, Steve and Connie watched you. The grip on your plate tightened, eyes staring straight ahead and chest rising and falling more rapidly. Connie carefully put her hand over yours, making you jerk you head towards her, sending a wave of pain through your left shoulder. “I-I think I’m gonna head off for the night”, you mumbled, quickly getting up and putting your half-empty plate on the kitchen counter.

As soon as you shut the door your lips started trembling, eyes burning from the effort of trying to keep the hot tears from spilling. You pressed your right palm to your forehead, mustering up every last ounce of strength to keep yourself at bay. Another deep breath, another memory of his lips on yours, another step towards the bed, another fading remembrance of his rough hands ghosting over your body. This had to stop, you knew it – hell – you’d known from before you even got into his bed. Javier Peña was a bachelor at heart, free of any commitment, who were you to think you could change his mind. Here you were, heartbroken, knocked-up with a fucked-up shoulder, on a pull-out couch in your best friends’ apartment, what a life.

You carefully grabbed a hold of your Walkman, slipping the headphones on and laying down on the bed. You closed your eyes as you listened to the Cure’s “Boys don’t cry”, reminiscing on the hot summer in the States, when you’d bought the cassette and played it on repeat in your car. A soft smile settled on your face and eventually you fell asleep just like that, fully dressed and headphones still on your ears.

Though the next morning, when the three of you sat around the breakfast table, you in yesterday’s clothes and the two of them in their work attire, there was a bit of an atmosphere going on. Not a word was said over breakfast, only increasing the tension even more, making you feel incredibly vulnerable, like a kid scolded by their father, it was odd. It wasn’t until later, on your way to the embassy in Steve’s passenger’s seat that he finally broke his silence.

“Who is it?”, he asked, tone harsher than usual.

You let out a nervous chuckle, quirking an eyebrow in confusion. “Mind giving me a hand here, I’m not sure I-“

“Who did you fuck?”, he interrupted you, voice rigid and determined.

“Steve”, you huffed, “what the hell are-“

“I’m no idiot y/n. Now tell me, who the hell is it.” His frustration started showing in his driving style, his braking much more abrupt than usual.

You scoffed at him, resting your hand on the door handle, at an attempt to feel somewhat secure. “That’s just not none of your fucking business Murphy.”

“It is if I’m losing a partner over it, maybe even two.”

“Peña? Don’t make me fucking laugh”, you lied, voice surprisingly confident. “He’s the biggest jerk there.”

“Then who? Santiago, Lopez, that FBI guy?”, he pressed as he parked the car.

You flipped him off before yanking the car door open, hurrying your way into the embassy. You didn’t bother to stop at the front desk or politely bid you co-workers a “good morning”, no, you just wanted to get to Messina, get your assignments for the day and get to work, away from both your partners.

As predicted, you were to write reports for the foreseeable future, Messina putter her faith in your ability to type them out with just one hand. You’d agreed, not wanting to argue or come up with an alternative yourself and made your way over to your office. Despite your request to be put into a confined space, away from Murphy and Peña, Messina insisted you’d just work at your regular desk, so the two of them could provide you some assistance if needed.

Luckily for you the two of them were out for most of the day, leaving you to work alone, in a comfortable silence. A fellow agent would step in to check if you were alright every now and then, helping you with carrying out file boxes or bringing in new ones. It was times like this that your reputation really preceded you, the sweet girl that would bring coffees on Fridays and bake cookies for birthdays and holidays. You knew your way around the office and compensated for your shortages (aka the fact that you were a woman) by innocent bribery. Lopez had even been so attentive as to bring you a hot lunch, which you gladly accepted and enjoyed in his company.

Steve and Javier were both surprised to see the two of you, laughing and just having a good time. Though they both had different motives, their suspicions aligned perfectly: he’s being too friendly. The two of them walked into the office, yet the two of you didn’t look up, no on the contrary, Lopez leaned in even closer, fidgeting with the sling on your arm.

Javier was not fucking having this today, so he loudly cleared his throat, both of your heads perking up in his direction. Lopez got up off your desk and gave you another smile before walking out of the now-way-too-crowed-with-testosterone office space. He gave the two of them a polite nod, muttering a “Peña y Murphy” before disappearing into the hallway.

“I fucking knew it”, Steve sighed, letting himself fall into his desk chair.

You threw a pencil at his face, chuckling when it ultimately did hit him square in the nose. “You’re a fucking idiot Murphy, Lopez was just bringing me lunch.”

“If you say so”, Steve mumbled, throwing the pencil right back at you.

The day had stayed calm and you were able to go home without having to talk to Peña at all, to your great relief. The next few days had been the exact same, tonnes of fieldwork for them and an amazing lunch with some of the other agents for you. On Thursday night, when Steve and Javier were working late due to an unexpected lead, you tagged along with the guys, heading out to some bar, where you enjoyed a non-alcoholic beverage or two and even were treated to a lovely platter of grilled goods.

Climbing the stairs to their apartment, you smiled to yourself. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you had friends and options, maybe Javier didn’t need to be in the picture, maybe it was meant to be this way. As you slipped your key in the door you took a deep breath, you felt at peace. Which was swiftly stolen away from you as a more than distressed Steve and Connie, baby held in his arms, were revealed.

Your keys hit the floor in surprise, face contorting in confusion. You quickly picked them up, nodded at Connie and walked into your room. A kid and an injured friend were too much for anyone to handle, you knew that, the story would follow, but for now you’d be heading back to your place. Steve gave you an apologetic look as you placed the key on the table, offering the both of them a genuine smile on the way out.

As you hauled your bag down the stairs, you let out a pained groan, your shoulder disagreeing with your every movement. On the next floor down, a familiar door swung open, revealing no one other than Javier, shirt halfway unbuttoned. “C’mon, I already made the bed.”

“Oh, no thank you, I’m fine”, you answered, bag falling off of your shoulder.

He shook his head before walking over to you, taking the bags as he urged you to follow him. “You take the bed, I’ll take the couch. Beer’s in the fridge, cigs are on the table.”

You hesitantly trailed after him, cringing a bit when setting foot in his apartment, the memories of the previous nights spent there flooding your mind within mere seconds. “Javi, I’m really fine, I’d rather just go home.”

“M’sorry hermosa, Murphy’s orders”, he said from the bedroom, coming back empty-handed. “We don’t have to talk, you can take a bath if you want, watch tv, just do whatever you want.”

You stood in the doorway, awkwardly watching as he made his way over to the couch, quickly laying down. “The kid..”

“Escobar.”

That’s all you needed to know, you could fill in the blanks yourself. A hand hovered over your abdomen, stomach turning in knots as the mere idea of something like that happening to you crossed your mind. You closed your eyes, a cold shiver running down your back, the bile starting to rise in your throat. It wasn’t just the news, you’d been “lucky” enough to have limited episodes of nausea, but when you did it was either early on in the morning or later at night, never throughout the day, which really helped your work situation.

“Hey, hey, hey, you sick again?”, Javier asked, quickly getting up and rushing over to you.

You braced yourself by placing your good hand on his chest, taking a few deep breaths. “I need to sit down.”

He gave frantic set of nods, putting an arm around your waist and leading you over to the couch, slowly helping you down. He sat down on his knees between your legs, eyes looking over your features, trying to read you. “Concussion?”

You quickly shoved him aside, rushing over to his bathroom where you dropped down to your knees, head hung over the toilet bowl. It didn’t take long for him to follow, one warm hand resting on your upper back and the other holding on to your hair. His eyes were laced with worry and concern, your pained cries mixed in with the retching breaking his heart. With every convulsion of your body your arm bucked along, causing an immense pain to course through your mending bones. When you eventually stopped and rested your head on your arm, which rested on the porcelain itself, he let go of your hair. He disappeared for a fraction of a second, quickly coming back with some water and a towel.

“Do you need to see a doctor?”

You took a sip of the water, eager to get the vile taste out of your system. “No, no, I’m fine, just drank too much.”

He nodded, despite not believing you. He’d seen you drunk before and this wasn’t that. There was no lingering smell of alcohol, no sexual advances, no sarcasm, you were just.. you – except you were lying to his face. Javier decided not to push on it, not wanting to bother you when you obviously weren’t feeling too great.

Eventually you managed to feel somewhat better and get ready for the night, Javier helping you into a fresh shirt, mindful not to hurt you. When it came to it and you went to bed you decided to ask him to join you, not wanting to be alone after having talked over what exactly had happened that night.

The two of you talked about the baby girl and the fucked up shit the sicarios did as you rested comfortably in his arms. It wasn’t anything sexual, you two were solemnly comforting one another after an incredibly rough day. As he spoke, chest buzzing in tune with his voice, his fingers traced weary circles on your side. He just kept talking and venting, knowing fully well you had passed out. That night Javier slept better than he had in ages, it was also the first time the two of you had stayed with one another until the morning. It was nice. None of you had to sneak out or slip away in the middle of the night and the sight of you when he woke up was a welcome one, making him feel at ease. He gently woke you up, helping you into the bathroom where you took a brief shower, the hot water working wonders on your aching muscles.

When you walked into the kitchen, towel wrapped around your frame, Javier was buttering some toast. “Hi, I hate to do this but I can’t quite get dressed..”

He gave a curt not, putting down the knife before walking over to you, taking the bra and shirt from your hands. “What’s with the shoes?”, he asked as he fastened the hooks of your bra.

“Well, don’t need to run for reports.. so no flats.”

Javier gave a low chuckle as he slipped the dress over your head, fingers ghosting over the tender skin of your neck. “Are you sure it’s not Lopez you want to impress?”

Now it was your turn to huff out a laugh. “Javier Peña, do I detect a hint of jealousy?”

“Should I be?”

As soon as you both were dressed and had somewhat of a breakfast you were headed to the embassy. The drive was quiet other than the radio, and surprisingly soothing. The domestic bliss stayed with you as you took a seat behind your typewriter, Javier’s gaze trained on your figure. You thought it was because of the dress, but in all reality he was trying to figure out why in the hell you would lie to him. Maybe you and Lopez were really becoming a thing or maybe the two of you had always been, maybe he was too late. All the more reasons to move on from you, the mere fucking idea of you.

By the time lunch rolled around Lopez found his way to your desk, a plate held in each hand. “Buenas Peña”, the man croaked out before walking over to your desk.

You uncrossed your legs and smiled up at the man, making Javier’s right eye twitch. Upon looking at the plate your face briefly fell, muttering an apology before declaring you were allergic to seafood. That was another fucking lie, Javier thought.

“But Javier enjoys crawfish”, you chuckled, “let him have my plate, I’ll run down to the market myself.”

Before any of them could protest, you grabbed your purse and fled the office, not wanting to experience a showdown of sorts. Javier took the opportunity to just smirk at the other man, grabbing the plate and shooing him out of the office. But not before providing the man with a sassy “piérdete, fracas ado” (get lost, loser).

The short walk to the market and back had given you the air you needed. Your head was spinning once again, the same thing as always: Javi. What the fuck was all this meddling about? He was so nice all of a sudden, domestic even, which wasn’t entirely uncharacteristic as you’d experienced him like this before.. but it wasn’t as if you were sleeping together again. Maybe that’s just what he expected to get from this. Of fucking course he’d take you in to his place. You scoffed before sinking your teeth into the spicy lunch you’d treated yourself to. Walking back into the office you were surprised to find all three desks empty. Well, you were aware that Murphy was unlikely to show up at all with his new responsibility, but Javier? Maybe he’d been requested for some field work.

You set your bag down before making your way over to the kitchen, wanting to grab a fresh drink. But before you could make it there you were pulled into the nearest evidence room, well closet more like, somebody pulling you in by your right arm.

“Mierda Javier ¿cuál es tu problema“, you yelped (Fuck Javier, what’s your issue?).

“I’m not the one lying to everyone’s fucking face”, he replied with a dark laugh.

You swatted his hand off of you and tried to shove past him when he blocked the door. “I’m not in the mood for this”, you warned, eyes locking with his.

“Missing your little boyfriend already?” Your mouth went agape in shock. “You’re not as clever as you think, hermosa.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, idiota celoso.” (jealous prick).

He wore a devilish smirk as he moved closer, lips ghosting over your ear shell. “Look who’s the whore now, huh..”

That one hurt, a lot. You pulled back from him, emotion catching in your throat. “Stop..”

“You been sleeping with everyone in the office then? Or were Lopez and I the only ones good enough for you.”

You could barely believe your ears, his evil words making tears form in your eyes. “Javier-“

“I at least thought you would’ve been smart enough not to get knocked up”, his words were laden with disgust and you stumbled backwards, feeling more unsafe than ever with him.

You tried to gather your thoughts and come up with a response but you could only manage a sad laugh as you looked at him. “You’re so fucking naïve.”

“¿Qué quiere decir?”, he inquired, lips pursed together. ‘What are you trying to say?)

“Es tuyo”, you declared. (It’s yours).

Those two words were everything he was so terrified of. You, him, a baby? Fuck. This was no place for a baby, he was no dad-material, shit man, he couldn’t even come to terms with the fact that he longed to be with you, let alone take care of you like that. He didn’t dese- no, you didn’t deserve this, all this- his misery.

“I thought you were fucking safe”, he shouted.

You felt incredibly small now, and even more terrified. “It takes two, you know”, you answered.

Javier took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he desperately tried to calm down.

“I-I can give you the money”, he stuttered.

“What?”, you asked, deeply confused.

“To get rid of it.”

If you weren’t infuriated before, you sure were now. The mere mention of it, the mere fucking idea that he wouldn’t even own up to what he did. He’d done it now, but you know what, good. If this is who he really was, then it was best you found out now.

“I-I don’t want you to lose your job..”, he murmured, voice much quieter and soft now.

The tears were streaming over your face at a high speed, blurring your vision as you looked at him. “Move, please.”

“We need to t-“

“Get out of my way”, you screamed.

He hesitantly stepped aside and watched as you speed-walked your way out of there, loudly sobbing and wiping at your eyes. Everyone’s attention was on the two of you, everyone seemingly understanding what had gone down. And as if things couldn’t get worse, around the corner came a familiar tuft of blonde hair, Steve fucking Murphy, giving him the death stare. Well fuck.

Taglist: @peterhollandkait @ophelia-ingenue @pedritomando @radiowallet

#javier peña #narcos #pedro pascal #imagine #javier pena #javier peña x reader #illicit limerence

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pomegranates-and-blood · 4 years

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νοσταλγία (Chapter 3)

(Gif credit to @whenimaunicorn)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader (eventual)

Summary: This is a retelling/romantization of the Greek myth of Persephone’s abduction with Ivar as Hades and you as Persephone. The Reader character is a Byzantine woman, follower of the Greek Pantheon/Religion, and a devoted follower of Persephone. This takes place after 5A, but the universe of this is a little changed in relation with the series, of course. Thank you for giving it a chance, hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: The usual :)

A/N: Words cannot express how much it means to hear back and to know people actually like this mess I’m writing. Thank you so so so much! I hope you all enjoy, and again, thank you.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius (Thank you so fucking much for your support and your comments btw, it means the world. You’re amazing!)

“So, Priestess.” You hear behind you, jumping back with a yelp and almost dropping the scroll you held in your hands.

You turn around to find the Viking King standing by your doorway, leaning heavily on his crutch and looking at you with a small smug smile on his face.

“A gentleman would knock.” You say around a small smile of your own, and leave the rolled-up map on a nearby end table before motioning for a chair and sitting in one nearby. It shouldn’t be so easy, so familiar, letting him into your space.

“You should know better.”

“I didn’t expect to see you again.” You confess without hesitation, looking into his pale eyes that reflect the stubborn light of the candles in the room around you.

“I have nothing but my brother and Christians to talk to in this city,” He dismisses easily, a gesture of his hand as he takes a seat near you. Your eyes, curious, follow the agile movements of his left hand as he maneuvers the crutch on his side to rest nearby. “You are far better company.”

“Thank you, I think,” You say, biting your lip to keep your stupid mouth from smiling and the foolish bashfulness from showing on your expression. Apparently, it does regardless, judging by the pleased look on the Viking’s face. Clearing your throat, you steal a glance to the closed door and state, “You do know you are scandalizing half a city right now, don’t you?”

“I am?” Based on his smug look, he knows, but you speak anyways.

“I am already called a witch,” You explain, “Do you know what it will do to my reputation if they are to see a Viking enter my home?”

“And you care for your reputation?”

“Any lady would care about her reputation!” You pretend to be scandalized, before rolling your eyes at yourself. You delight yourself in the small huff that leaves the man’s lips, what could be a laugh if given just enough room to breathe.

“The Saxons,” He starts, leaning the side of his body on the table, “You said they call you a witch.”

“A woman that worships the Gods of the Dead is usually labeled such a thing,” You offer with a small shrug. After a breath of hesitation, you dare tease, “Are you one to believe Stithulf’s tales that I can bewitch men to their deaths? Blind them and have them follow my every whim?”

He keeps pale eyes on you, studying you quietly for a few moments before rescinding, closing his eyes in a slow blink and murmuring,

"Not through magic,” Before you have a chance to ask what he means by that, he motions for a place behind you and asks, “What is that?”

You twist on your seat to where he points and see he means the scroll you…borrowed from Leofric. Stretching on your seat, you grab onto the old paper and open it on the table.

The colors are faded, and to what you understand is not very accurate, but you have been growing restless here and you wanted to at least learn something other than defeat here.

“What do you need a map for?” The Viking frowns, rough fingers placed over the edges of the map you cannot hold and helping you smooth it over the table.

You know if he were to think of you as a Greek Anassa before anything else, he would be on his guard about you by now, because after all, it is a foreign leader looking to know the outline of his homeland. But he isn’t.

Because that’s what you agreed upon, right? No names and no identities past this door, no future or present outside of this disgusting little hut. But your people need to leave this village, they need to be away from Stithulf’s ambitious hands, from Leofric’s egotistical God.

Stealing a hand back to put a lock of hair behind your ear, you offer, “Knowing where on this earth the Gods have taken us?” You grimace at your own words. As if the Gods would want this. Regardless, you swallow past the bitterness of the soft lie and continue explaining, “I…don’t know where I am. I mean, I know there’s no point in knowing, but I don’t…”

He silences you with a point of his finger, eyes inquisitive and always demanding when they look over your face but still quiet, offering you the location and name of the city with a point of his finger.

Your eyes look over the seas and rivers drawn there, and even if it all feels so fucking foreign and strange and unforgiving, at least knowing where in this world the last of the Attics have perished, what hills and what rivers bury their unfortunate bodies; brings you a little peace.

For a moment there’s a flare of a thought, an errant idea, of how maybe, just maybe, this strange man turned King, in all his faults and fame; could be easily played with. You lured a Greek Strategus into laying an army at your feet, surely you could get something out of the Viking before your life reached its untimely end.

The few Attics that have survived the hell of these last weeks could benefit from whatever aid you can get the King to-…

No.

You shake those thoughts off quickly enough. You have regretted your lies before, you have promise to be honest and be true because you cannot stomach the mere possibility that one day you will look at your reflection and not recognize who you are past all the lies and the masks.

So, you look into the Varangian’s pale blue eyes, and offer sincerely, “Thank you.”

He ignores your words, you don’t know whether because he has no interest in your gratitude or because he does not know how to answer to it.

Instead, he asks, “How do you know how to read a map?”

“You ask me that and not how I speak your language? Or know of your Gods?” You reply, eyebrows raised. The Viking shrugs, conceding, but his eyes remain with the same inquisitive glint, demanding his answers. With a sigh, you offer, “There’s…Varangians where I am from. When my mother was killed, what you call a shieldmaiden took me in and raised me as her own.”

“What was her name?”

“Is,” You correct with a small frown, “Sieghild is very much alive.”

“Would I know of her?” He asks, and you narrow your eyes at him. The Viking explains, “A shieldmaiden that lived all the way in the Mediterranean, surely she has her own share of fame.”

“That’s her story to tell, not mine.”

And the candles burn on, and you two continue talking about whatever comes to mind. You don’t ask about what happens in this city, he doesn’t ask -much- about what brought you and your people here. He doesn’t ask your name again, and you make a point of avoiding saying his.

Somehow, you made the mistake of telling him about Keres, and their fame as angels of violent deaths that scour the battlefields; and now the Viking won’t stop insisting that they are just Valkyries with different names.

“But you know of the Valkyries.” He insists, a frown in his brow and his nose.

“I do.”

“Then why do you call them with a different name?”

“Keres are not Valkyries.”

“They sound very alike, Priestess,” His mouth curves downwards in an exaggerated gesture and he shrugs his shoulders. “It sounds to me that you Greeks just like changing the names of things.”

Even if you should be offended all you do is smile, “What?”

“Barangoi,” He offers, a tilt of his head. “You could just say Viking.”

“And you could just say Keres instead of Valkyries.”

“Ah!” He points a finger at you, “So you admit they are one and the same.”

“I don’t follow your Gods, Barangoi,” You remind him, but he just tilts his head to the side and looks away. Before you can help yourself, you point out, “Your Greek is horrible, by the way.”

“Well, I haven’t had time to find a teacher.”

____

“I will leave this sad excuse for a city, just for a few days,” Sieghild promises that night, her eyes on the fire but you can see her soul reaching for her shield.

“Do you think it is safe?”

“Who should I fear? The few Saxons smart enough to train like Arabs? The last remnants of the once mighty Great Heathen Army?” She scoffs, her words intending to dismiss your fear even if she has just listed the reasons you worry for her life when she leaves.

“Neither would have any qualms about killing you.” You point out dryly.

The shieldmaiden rolls her shoulders, something akin to bloodthirst in her smile, “Let them try.”

“And I’m the foolish one.” You mutter around a roll of your eyes.

The woman chuckles quietly, “I told you I have some questions I need answered. You are not the only one with ties to the Gods, little one.”

“Never said that I was. Based on your tales, the sons of one of the most famous Völvas are at the gates, mother.” You quip dryly, reaching for the goblet of water and wishing you could call upon the Christian God and turn it into wine.

“The gates, little one?” Sieghild muses, and you frown at her in confusion over the rim of your cup. With a shrug, she explains, “I have seen a son of Aslaug going in and out of your little hut multiple times now.”

Shit. You cough abruptly when the water goes the wrong way, but play it off and look again at the flames.

“I have no idea who you are talking about.”

“Of course you don’t,” She teases, a strange weight in her voice. She stands up, reaching for her trusted shield and putting it at her back as she grabs one of the fur cloaks by you. You keep your eyes ahead, but feel her presence at your back, and hear her lighthearted voice, “Sometimes, I sit by myself and think how your mother must be screaming her head off at me from her Elysium.”

You laugh, and it feels light and free, craning your head back to look at the shieldmaiden. She places a heavy hand on your hair, rough fingers attempting to run through it; the gesture so reminiscent of your childhood.

“Why?”

“She had this beautiful little girl, blessed by the Gods, noble in blood and in heart,” She recalls, “And I turned that child into the mad woman that likes spending her evenings with Ivar the Boneless.”

You shake your head at her words, closing your eyes and resting the back of your head on her stomach.

“Of all the things I have done, you truly believe talking to a Varangian King would be what my mother would take issue with?” You ask her, and the shieldmaiden grumbles an agreement, remaining silent for a short while.

“I will be back soon. Be careful, yes?” You nod. Sieghild traces around the wound in your forehead and sighs, “Your Gods and mine keep you, little one.”

“Your Gods and mine, mother.” You answer with a small smile, the exchange as old as goodbye.

She leaves you to your thoughts with a firm kiss pressed to the crown of your head, and you stay there, by the fire, wondering what will happen when the Varangians leave.

But turns out you don’t have to think much about what will happen when the Vikings collect their prizes, when the Saxons retreat back to England, when you will be left with three hundred Greeks and nowhere to go and nothing to do but wait for death; for the talks are exceedingly long, and almost a week has passed and still the Vikings make camp in this city, still Stithulf meets with Varangians daily, still the Viking King makes his way with his crutch and his uneven steps to your door.

The King himself is a vexing contradiction. Cruel, arrogant, and explosive; like seldom you have seen, even if most of the time his vitriol is not directed at you. Yet dedicated, intelligent, and, at least sometimes, hinting at someone that wants to give but does not know how to.

He manages to make you despise him as easily as he makes you admire him, hate presence in your mind and find yourself missing his voice or his expressive eyes when he’s not there.

You were never one to bite your tongue, and even if pain clogs your throat your memories leave your lips with ease, but Ivar…Ivar gives pieces of himself away like crumbs that fall from his so tightly-clasped hands. It is as if he couldn’t stop himself from giving away those little pieces, but at the same time dismisses the truths and cracks in the armor as soon as you make a slight mention of them.

He tells you about his mother, of her love and because happiness cannot be remembered without the biting sting of pain, of her absence. He tells you of his vow to kill his mother’s killer, and the look in his Greek Fire-like eyes when he does gives you a more certain prophecy than the Gods’ at to what destiny holds for the shieldmaiden. He tells you of the boatbuilder, of the man that did so much to make him who he is today, and if nostalgia paints the tales he weaves you say nothing.

Ivar now knows a lot about you as well, because when you meet daily with a stubborn man with no restrictions in his questions, you are bound to give away a lot of yourself. You tell him about the Christians of Attica, of their flames lapping at your legs and back, and if he understands a little more of your darkness then so be it. You tell him of Sieghild and her ways, of years at her side, of being taught how to wage and stop war, of her tales of this land so far away from where you were it seemed like a different realm. You tell him of life under the sigil of Persephone, you tell him secrets you have not dared tell a soul before, of the woman in the red veil and her warm darkness.

When you see him wince for the third time since he has sat down today, and hear the barely-there grunt of pain, you hope he doesn’t take this as offense -your times near Kiev when you were growing up reminds you strikingly of how particular Varangians are when it comes to pain- and reach for a marked leather pouch in one of your bags.

Grabbing onto a reasonable piece of willow bark, you turn back to the Viking and extend your hand. His eyes go from your hand to your face, but surprisingly enough you are not that bothered by the cold distrust as you thought you should be.

“Chewing on it helps with pain.” Is all you tell him in answer to his silent question.

He takes it with the mistrust, the annoyed hesitation, that are in such a way his that you fear you would never be able to see the somewhat-narrowed eyes, the movement of the head, the piercing glare, without thinking of him any longer.

It takes a moment, and an exasperated lift of your eyebrows for the warrior to finally bite into the softened bark. After a moment, because of course he would, the Viking asks, “How did you know?”

“I have to be attuned to others’ pain to be a healer, Viking,” You answer simply, settling back in your seat and draping the cloak over your legs. “You have healers where you are from.”

“Usually they are Völur.”

You shake your head with a small chuckle, “I am not a seeress.”

“But your Gods speak to you.”

You frown, “Scarcely of the future. The sight I have is regarding…the past, or sometimes present. Related to death, as per my Gods’ realm.”

In all his stubbornness, there’s a hint of fearlessness, more than a hint of courage; that almost whisper to you what he will ask for way before the words are to leave his lips.

The Viking stands up with a small grimace, and leaning on his crutch stands before you, “Prove it.”

“Are you certain?” You ask, again already aware of the answer he will give. When he nods, you take a deep breath and toe off your simple sandals. If the Viking takes note of the strange choice to have your bare feet on the cold ground, he does not mention it.

You stand as well, for a moment feeling Eleusis’ warm grasslands underneath your feet instead of the cold wood of a Scandinavian home, and face the Viking.

He holds himself still, so much so that you may for a moment confuse him with a marble statue. One that you can choose to admire or to break with a single push.

With the closeness, looking up at the cruel and handsome visage of Kattegat’s King, you realize what the pull of darkness you noticed surrounding him when you first saw him was.

Past the bloodthirst, past the cruelty and the vitriol; you catch a glimpse of something else.

A whisper not unlike the one that so long ago, when Sieghild offered to take you to the Danes, told you to await a few days in Sicily. That same night the news on the Saracen warriors threatening Athens with an onslaught of raids reached your ears, and instead of sailing North you returned to Greece.

Your eyes meet his, and a strange familiarity reaches you like a memory, like the phantom caress of a worn piece of silk over cold skin.

“You died, not long ago. You crossed into the realm of death and came back, and not only then, even in the womb the Gods debated your survival. Chosen by Hades.” The last words leave your lips in Greek, realization settling within you as you speak. You force your tongue back to his language when you continue, “You survived all those times because the Gods were not done with you and you know this, but you are not certain what the purpose they spared your life for is.

Without thinking, you move even closer, your head tilted back to stare at his pale eyes.

Your voice is a whisper in itself when you promise, “Your Gods have heard you beg to know the reason behind your pain, Ivar.”

There’s a flare of anger in his eyes, a snarl forming in his lips and they are the only warnings you have before the Viking’s hand closes around your throat.

You are dragged closer, rough fingers clawing at your neck and you cannot keep your mouth from opening in a gasp, your hand uselessly tugging at the King’s arm.

But you can still breathe, you notice past your panicked breaths. You feel your mouth dry, your heart quicken, but you do not fight back, even if your scared mind begs you to.

“Sieghild.” You whisper. You are not certain why you speak so lowly, but something tells you that you should.

The woman turns to you, and when her footsteps stop as she realizes what you wanted her to see, it seems the whole forest freezes. The wind doesn’t rustle the leaves, the birds do not sing, the distant stream stops its course.

It all seems to hold its breath alongside you, waiting for the injured beast’s move.

“Do not move,” Sieghild advises, “Do not cower or it will attack.”

You tighten your hand around the bow and stare back at the lynx’s wild eyes with a courage you do not have.

When the King leans even closer, you feel like a young girl holding a bow and praying the beast does not attack. Praying it mistakes your relentlessness with ruthlessness, and thinks twice about harming you.

“You will keep your visions to yourself, Priestess.”

And it’s the arrogance, the pride, the command, what gets the blood under your skin to a boil. You may not be able to overpower him, but the very Underworld may welcome you home before you bow down to a brute.

Your hand finds his wrist, nails digging lightly at the skin as you meet his gaze with the defiance not even the constricting rules of Attica could extinguish.

You reply to his threat with narrowed eyes. “You will get your hand off me, Viking.”

Surprisingly enough, he does, but keeps his burning eyes on yours and still towers above you.

“You asked.” You remind him. Because you have to swallow down other words, other reminders. You obeyed.

“How are you so sure it’s not the Norns telling you this? How does this not make you a Völva?” He asks, and past the venom and the volatility there’s a genuine question, you like to think.

“Maybe they are, maybe both our Gods are one and the same, but take different names,” You offer, “But I am not one of your seeresses, Viking. I am Hiereia.”

___

Hi! Thank you so much for reading! I’m sorry I wasn’t very regular, but now I’m gonna be. Probably Saturdays or Sundays are gonna be the days I post, btw.

I know I’m taking my sweet ass time getting to the abduction part of the abduction myth lol, but I hav my reasons. Or maybe I just like to ramble, and my stories do the same, who knows.

Anyways, just wanted to say I appreciate you all so much for reading! It really means a lot to know that people are reading this and liking it.

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar x reader #vikings imagine #vikings #νοσταλγία masterlist #νοσταλγία

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shirebarbie · 3 years

Text

Okay not to be okay (Maxwell Beaumont x Riley)

Author’s note: a random little fanfic about my favorite LI from the Royal Romance series on choices. please be kind :’)

Summary: hurt & comfort, Maxwell’s reaction to his father’s plan to take the crown princess away and Riley’s attempts to make him feel better.

After the horrible and shocking meeting, everyone from the friend group slowly started leaving the room, their faces confused and spirits low. The ones who voted in favor of the princess being taken away left quickly, probably in order to avoid more conflict with the ones who opposed the idea. Hana was one of the last people to walk through the door as she cast a sad glance in the direction of the princess Annabelle. Duchess Riley followed everyone out with her dark eyes, but she couldn't oversee the fact that her husband barely moved at all. Maxwell stood up from his chair for a moment, took a few steps, and then sat down heavily again with hanging shoulders on another chair. Olivia was sitting in that one, Riley thought, the only representative of the Great Houses that voted against Barthelemy's horrendous scheme.

Annabelle was sound asleep in her pram, her little face angelic and perfectly calm – she was lucky to be unaware of the recent events and their possible effects on both her childhood and her future. Riley cast a sad but loving look on her daughter as she slowly turned to face Maxwell who was staring blankly ahead with his usually smiling lips in a straight line, and his ocean eyes no longer friendly and mischievous. Riley crouched down so she could meet his face and she raised a hand to gently place on her lover’s shoulder.

“Max, are you alright?” she inquired carefully, although the answer was clearly written on his face. However, in his typical fashion, he quickly put on a braver façade and attempted something similar to a smile.

“Let’s not talk about me right now, we have things to handle and we need to come up with a strategy to get our baby out of this horrible- “

“Darling.” Maxwell’s ramblings were quickly cut off by his wife who knew him well enough to know he would put everyone else’s needs before his own, even when his little family was directly threatened by his own father. That was just the way he was, but Riley didn’t think that was the time to brush off something so serious.

“It’s completely okay to feel betrayed, hurt, or anything else you may be feeling now. He’s your dad, Maxwell, nobody could ever judge you for being upset with this situation.”

Before she even completed what she was saying, Riley saw Maxwell’s eyes fill with tears and his ruse was no longer. He was properly devastated, and he had no clue what to say at all. He knew Riley and Annabelle would support him and love him through everything, as they proved day after day, but he felt like he was failing them and like he could do nothing right, even though he knew nothing about his father’s malicious scheme beforehand. Through his flurry of thoughts Maxwell felt his wife’s warm hand squeeze his own, the wedding band secure on her ring finger, and her other hand reached up to stroke his cheek.

As she was looking at Maxwell, Riley’s heart broke just a little bit. She brushed away a stray tear from his right cheek while he was still staring into space, breathing becoming heavier.

“My darling angel,” she began, her soft voice dripping with love and worry, and she knew he would feel it too, “none of this is your fault to any extent. You have never done anything to endanger our family – quite the contrary – and I could never put any blame on you. For any of this,” she gestured vaguely and shook her head. “I love you and Annabelle loves you and we know you love us, which you continue to prove every single day. For goodness’ sake, you literally saved our lives once already, darling. I think that’s all the proof we could ever need about your feelings and intentions towards us.” Riley shuddered at the thought of that overwhelming night when their daughter came into the world, knowing that it wasn’t something any of them would get over anytime soon.

That one tear on Maxwell’s cheek was soon followed by many more, and quiet sobs started to ripple through his body. Riley reacted immediately and pulled him into herself, allowing one of her hands to slide into his soft hair. It was always incredibly hard to see him crying, because he was usually the happy one who saw the good in everything, but even people like that have their breaking points. Considering the overall situation, it was more than understandable that Maxwell happened to face his breaking point at that moment. Initially, when Riley hugged him close he left his arms down, but hesitantly he encircled his wife’s shoulders and waist.

“I’m a-“ he started, but the duchess knew in which direction his thoughts were flowing. “If you dare to say that you’re a royal screw-up, I’m banishing music on our next ball completely!” This made Maxwell stop talking immediately, and Riley thought she heard a faint chuckle cut through the quiet sobs and sniffs. “Good,” she smiled, but the man in her arms still didn’t seem to be doing better. With every little sob of his, her soul began to hurt a little more. Unsure of what to say next to alleviate some of the pain, the duchess settled on a gentle chorus of “it’s alright” and “we’ll be fine”, even though she herself wasn’t sure if she truly believed those words.

Maxwell was simultaneously feeling safe and scared, and after everything he had gone through with his father (and very much his absence, too) he certainly deserved to look after himself a bit, and focus on arranging his own feelings and thoughts first. Riley firmly believed that, but she knew that, no matter how tough the situation was, Maxwell would always put her and Annabelle first. She was extremely grateful for that the whole time, and she made her appreciation clear. However, it was high time for her to give better than her best for her husband now, in spite of the fear that was bubbling up in her heart.

“My sweet, sweet boy,” Riley eventually whispered as she rubbed Maxwell’s back, “if anyone in the world is trying their best for their loved ones, it is you, Max. Our friends would agree too, I’m sure of that. But it’s perfectly normal to take it easy every now and then, and look after yourself, baby. You need it.” Maxwell’s crying died down at least a little by that point, and he pulled away from his wife’s arms just a bit (he still adored her hugs and affection, and was always ready to soak all of it up, any given chance), so he finally attempted looking her in the eyes. The warmth and care that were so blatantly obvious on her lovely features almost made his heart stop for a moment. Even when he was a crying mess, she still looked at him as if he was the most perfect and precious human being in the whole universe. And he was exactly that to her.

Maxwell let out a slow, shaky breath, and he looked away again “I can’t… believe he would do something like that. To his son’s own family.”

“I know, my love, I know.” Riley bit her lip worriedly and rubbed her hands up and down Maxwell’s arms. “And I can’t even imagine how you must be feeling right now. But I do think you’re incredibly brave, unbelievably strong, smart, and loving, and I don’t have a sliver of doubt in my mind that we will manage to figure something out together.”

“You think so?” Her husband wondered out loud, his eyes regaining a slightly more hopeful and joyful look, which Riley grew to love very quickly into their friendship. He always saw so much good, and sometimes she couldn’t even fathom how and where. But that was just Maxwell.

“I know we will, Max. Just look at everything we have managed to accomplish so far, sunshine! What’s another epic fight for our amazing team, huh?” The duchess tried to offer her brightest smile, her hands still on her lover. “It has been scientifically proven that we can do anything.”

Finally, Maxwell cracked a little smile and squeezed his wife’s hands. “We are the world’s greatest superhero team,” he croaked out with a little sniff, and Riley almost melted right then and there. In her eyes, his smile was unmatched, and she wanted to be the reason behind it as much as she could. She was not sure whether she was right about any of the things she said, whether everything will really go the right way or completely awfully, and she didn’t know whether Maxwell believed her encouragements either, but at that moment what mattered was the fact that he seemed to be feeling better, at least momentarily, and that was a small victory she was willing to take.

“Maybe we should take our little sleeping princess to her royal bed,” Maxwell said in a voice that was barely above a whisper, nodding his head in the direction of his beloved daughter.

“Good thinking,” Riley nodded and finally got up from her uncomfortable position on the floor, and she extended a hand towards Maxwell. The second they were both standing up, he pulled her into the tightest hug possible and inhaled her comforting scent. “I love you,” Maxwell exhaled, some of the tension leaving his body, “and I love our little ray of sunshine too.” In return, Riley pressed a loving kiss on his lips which communicated all the love she had for him without having to say a word. They just knew.

Maxwell picked up Annabelle from her pram gently, but securely, and held her little sleeping form close to his body as the family of three exited the meeting room. More than once, as they walked to their private quarters, Riley noticed an unreadable expression on her husband’s face, but every time he glanced at their baby or she fidgeted a little, he seemed to brighten up too. It was normal – one can’t let go so quickly of something so painful and confusing. Maxwell needed time, hell, they both needed time, patience and strength to tackle the newest threat in the kingdom. Riley’s brow furrowed when she started putting the pieces together: after a mysterious coma that lasted for almost two decades, Barthelemy was suddenly perfectly well and had a very elaborate plan put together and already set in motion. Something didn’t seem completely right, but that was a conversation for another day – she couldn’t bear the thought of possibly causing Maxwell more pain and sadness than what he already had to put up with.

While Maxwell put Annabelle to bed, Riley went to change into something less formal and get something from the kitchen. In one of the halls she ran into her friend Drake, who seemed to be in an equally bad mood (to be fair, he often was, but not with that intensity). He looked at her with so much sadness that she felt like someone knocked air out of her lungs when their eyes met. When he spoke up, it was barely audible, as if he was scared of talking about the imminent threat too loudly – maybe it would make everything go down sooner.

“I’m really sorry you’re going through this,” he said. “Both you and Maxwell are really good people, and it’s high time you both got some rest and just, you know, enjoy life.” Drake chuckled humorlessly.

“Oh well, it seems like I am destined for drama. Me, and everyone around me too,” Riley shrugged, trying to stretch her lips out into a smile, at least a small one. “For now, Maxwell seems to be taking it much worse, which makes a lot of sense.”

Drake almost shivered at the mere thought of what his friend must be feeling at the time. “Hell, imagine getting such a horrible surprise from your own, supposedly dead, father.”

Riley just looked down in silence: it was extremely hard to find any appropriate words. Sensing the shift in her mood, Drake just awkwardly squeezed her shoulder as he started to leave.

“I really hope you guys get through this, and we will all help as much as we can. I know I will,” he said in a quiet voice, laden with emotion. Riley offered him a thankful smile and a curt nod before going to her daughter’s nursery. To her surprise, Maxwell was dozing off in the armchair next to Annabelle’s crib. He usually wasn’t the type to take naps – quite the contrary, he was unbelievably energetic half the time, but Riley let him be. There was enough on his plate, and rest was absolutely necessary. The duchess carefully covered him with a blanket that was thrown over the armrest, and after pressing a soft kiss to her husband’s forehead, she quietly exited the room.

#playchoices #the royal romance #the royal heir #choices trr #trr maxwell #choices trh #maxwell x mc #maxwell beaumont #choices fanfic #maxwell beaumont x mc #the royal romance fanfic #the royal heir fanfic #drake walker #choices drake #choices hana #hana lee #liam rhys

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the-hidden-writer · 4 years

Text

I’ll Remember You This Way

Chapter 1: 2,857 words Read on AO3! (check reblog for link)

The story of one unsuspecting man named Edwin Jarvis and how his life and legacy are carried throughout the universe.

Edwin Jarvis -> JARVIS -> Vision

Snippets of that legacy include Tony Stark carrying his butler's words in his heart for his entire life and Wanda Maximoff sensing an unfamiliar presence in Vision's mind.

Chapter 1 : sun is shining in the sky

There’s something quite unnerving about the night sky.

The chill of the night is brisk, and he knows that, logically, he should head inside to avoid catching a cold (and consequently facing his wife’s wrath)... but he can’t find it in himself to move.

Edwin has been intrigued by the stars as of late. His employer tells him to, as Mr Stark so eloquently put, “get his head out of the clouds and focus on Earth's problems”. And, once again, this should logically make Edwin lose interest and obey. Deep down, however, he knows there is more. So much more. But it probably won’t be discovered in his lifetime.

Ms Carter has told him of her missions working alongside Captain Rogers, and their discovery of the mysterious glowing cube that had fallen into the hands of Hydra which was most likely of extraterrestrial origin. Edwin felt it was quite the honour for her to trust him enough to tell him (what he thought were) rather classified details- that was actually what prompted him to impulsively ask her what exactly she thought of him. Ms Carter had not hesitated in labelling him as her best friend.

She had then burst into quite an uncharacteristic bout of laughter at the expense of his own embarrassment, and at the time Edwin had felt very much like they were school children giggling over a fellow classmate’s mishaps.

Who could have predicted that it would become quite an accurate description when a rather scandalous newspaper article was released the following day regarding the rumour of an affair between the esteemed Agent Carter and Howard Stark’s butler. For the benefit of both Mr Carter’s reputation and his and Ana’s own privacy, the pair had decided to keep their friendship as "their little secret” and maintain formalities when in public. But even with that and Mr Stark himself publicly denying any truth behind the rumour, it still took a few weeks for it to dispel.

Ana had teased the two of them for many more weeks after that.

As for the cube itself, there is something Edwin finds very strange about it. Mr Stark had been studying it relentlessly since it fell into his hands. Edwin had assisted as per usual and nothing was out of the ordinary, sans perhaps the secret behind its origins and abilities.

No, the strangeness began when Mr Stark asked him to continue studying it alone after Edwin had forced him to rest after over 24 hours of working in the lab. Howard had only agreed to do so if Edwin (who had the sense to stay well-rested) continued to work on it. So he did just that.

Mere moments after Mr Stark had left, Edwin felt himself being... drawn towards the enigmatic object. It was an extremely odd sensation. Though he knows it is impossible, it was almost like it was… beckoning him. Beckoning to come closer. To touch it. To hold it.

To break it.

Now Edwin had the sense to ignore whatever otherworldly temptations the cube was attempting to inflict on him and had simply continued to work as instructed. Yet despite that bizarre event, the thing that unsettled him the most was when Mr Stark denied having ever experienced such a feeling apart from the natural curiosity of an inventor to learn more.

They have worked on the cube many times since then, and every time Edwin would sense that strange calling only when he was alone. He’d worried at first that it was some form of hypnosis but Ana had assured him that he hadn’t changed in the slightest.

However he now found himself enthralled by the night sky, and what unquestionably lies beyond it.

Planets, stars, galaxies, life. The infinite possibilities of space.

And he is just one insignificant man within it all.

“Edwin?”

He is pulled out of his thoughts by Ana calling him from behind. Her face is stern but her eyes are concerned as she approaches him, wrapping her soft burgundy shawl tighter around her shoulders. Edwin immediately feels guilty for causing her to venture outside in such cold weather.

“You need to come inside now, dear. The stars will still be here tomorrow.”

He shoots her an apologetic smile and his heart melts at the way her pink lips part slightly as she lets out the smallest of laughs. She was probably waiting for him to come to bed as evidenced by the fact that her divine red hair is loose and flowing behind her in the wind.

It truly amazes him how beautiful his wife looks even in the most unflattering of situations.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he truly means it, “I was lost in my thoughts.”

Ana tilts her head up towards the sky. “I know they are beautiful, but surely your wife is too?” she teases, and Edwin finds heat rushing into his cheeks.

Smiling, she untangles one arm from within her shawl and offers it to him, but the second his hand touches hers she lets out a small gasp.

“Your skin is freezing!” She exclaims. “Buta emberem, come inside before you catch a cold.”

He wordlessly allows her to usher him inside as she mumbles in her own tongue about how her husband puts others too far before himself.

Ana was right. Ana was always right. She was more beautiful than any star could ever dream of being and he was well aware that he was blessed to be her husband and to have her in his life.

And yet… that night he still found himself dreaming of the stars.

~-.-~

“Am I doing the right thing, Jarvis?”

Howard’s words startle him just as he is about to leave the workshop.

Confused, he turns to face his employer. “What do you mean, Sir?”

Howard’s hands clench into fists at his side as he struggles to find the right words. “I don’t know, I just-” he sighs and looks up at Edwin almost desperately. “I climbed up from practically nothing to get here… what if settling down screws all that up? Screws up the company?”

Ah, Edwin understands now. He knew that Maria was different from the second she scolded Mr Stark without hesitation. She is so different from all the other women, and though Edwin knows that she would never use him he can also understand why his friend is worried. He does have a legacy, company and reputation to maintain, and tying the knot with the wrong person could hypothetically ruin all that.

But Edwin trusts Maria, and Maria loves Mr Stark.

“I think,” he begins, uncomfortably aware that Howard is clinging on to his every word, “that you should follow your heart. Maria is a lovely woman and everyone can see that she makes you happy.” He notes how Mr Stark smiles at the thought of his girlfriend. “But I’m not sure if you should be asking me for this sort of advice, Sir.” He adds.

“Are you kidding?” Howard scoffs. “You and Ana have the best thing going that I’ve ever seen. The two of you are so sweet it makes me sick.”

Having perfected the art of not taking offence at Mr Stark’s offhand remarks, Edwin just brushes the comment aside and speaks to his employer slowly and calmly. “If I know you, Sir, that’s not the sort of relationship you’re looking for.”

Howard Stark has been involved with woman after woman, scandal after scandal, leaving his poor butler to deal with the aftermath of each one. So yes, Edwin knows all too well that the man would struggle with the commitment of marriage and the tower of responsibilities that comes with it.

“See, that’s my point!” Howard exclaims, throwing his hands up in frustration. “I don’t know if I can do it!”

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, a small smirk tugs at Edwin’s lips. “Oh, I was under the impression that the great Howard Stark could do anything.”

It was astounding to watch as pompous a man as Howard Stark, with an ego as large as the sun, crumble with insecurity. It was an extremely rare sight to behold and Edwin has the feeling that he is the only person to whom Howard would reveal his inner vulnerabilities.

“You think so?” He asks.

Edwin’s snarky smirk is replaced by a genuine expression of reassurance. “That’s what people say, but I have to say that the man I know personally isn’t perfect. But I also know that Maria makes him whole, and that he needs someone to anchor him before he loses sight of what’s truly important.”

“Steve-”

“Yes, I know Captain Rogers is important,” he interrupts, “but you need to live in the present. He was in the past. I think that Maria could be your future.”

Mr Stark looks up at him for a few moments, presumably allowing his words to sink in. Then all of a sudden his eyes harden with an all-too-familiar determination.

“You’re right!” He cries. “I’m great- I can do this! What’s another challenge to me, right?”

Edwin resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“Follow my heart? Well in that case it’s settled. I’ll propose to her tomorrow!”

“Wh- tomorrow?!” Edwin splutters, his calmness shattering with the shock of the preposterous statement.

Howard snorts and holds his hands up in surrender. “Just messing with you. Sometimes your advice is so good that I gotta make sure you’re not a robot or something.”

Edwin chuckles nervously.

“But seriously,” Mr Stark continues, closing the gap between them, “thanks, Jarvis.” He wraps his arms around Edwin’s torso (it’s an odd, childish position but it’s what suits their height difference the best) and squeezes him in a tight hug. Then his playful voice drops into a smaller, more serious tone. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He then pulls back and both men take a moment to adjust their clothing.

“You’re gonna be my best man, right?”

“Perhaps you should propose to her first before you get ahead of yourself, Sir. Take things slow.” Edwin decides to neglect mentioning how improper it would look for Howard Stark’s butler to act as best man and, as utterly flattered as he is, promises to himself to argue the point at a later date.

Mr Stark proceeds to practically hop back to his worktop to continue tinkering with his latest invention. It is a remote control of some sort and thankfully not that blasted cube. However, Edwin knows him well enough that his mind is elsewhere and is practically swimming with proposal ideas- which he will, eventually, end up asking for his help about too.

He doesn’t mind. Edwin just feels happy to help.

~-.-~

Edwin nearly jumps out of his skin as a slender hand taps him on the shoulder.

“Oh! I’m sorry to startle you, Mr Jarvis. I just… I was wondering if I could pull you aside for a minute. In private.”

Mrs Stark’s eyes are wide and alert, and she looks up at him with an air of emergency she’d never admit to having.

Being the ideal butler, Edwin obviously agrees. “Of course. Where would you like to..?”

“Our bedroom,” she supplies all too quickly, “if that’s alright with you.”

It’s not a question. All Edwin can do is nod politely, set his feather duster down, and follow Maria through the hallway and up the elegant main staircase of Stark manor.

Luckily, they don’t pass any of the staff on the way up. And since Howard was away on another of his business endeavours (which had become more frequent) there was no worry of bumping into him, either. Not that Edwin has any clue why Maria was being so insistent on secrecy.

Still, he would try his best to keep it. For her sake.

Once they had reached the large, extravagantly-decorated room and Edwin had locked the door firmly behind him, Maria let out a long, shaky sigh.

It’s only when Edwin turns to look at her does his worry start to sink in.

Her eyes are tired and her glorious brown hair is ever-so-slightly tousled. She still looks like a model, of course, but the fact that any imperfection is noticeable means that something must be terribly wrong.

“Is everything alright?” Edwin asks quietly once he realises that she won’t speak first.

Maria nods unsurely. “I… I don’t know.” She says, and Edwin can hear the lilt of her original Italian accent clipping her words- an occurrence that happened only when she was very stressed.

Unsure how to prompt her for more information without seeming rude, Edwin smiles comfortingly. “Is there anything I can do for you, Ma’am?”

“Edwin-” the use of his first name surprises him so much that it wipes the smile off his face- “you know Howard well, don’t you?”

Edwin is too busy worrying about where the conversation is heading to consider the question too deeply. “W-Well, yes, I suppose I do.” He stutters. “More than any of the staff, most definitely.”

Maria sighs again and moves to sit down on the bed. Edwin, having no idea if he is welcome to do the same, just stands awkwardly on the spot.

She twists the magnificent ring on her finger as she speaks, not looking Edwin in the eye. “…Do you know whether he wants children?”

“W-Well, I- um, i-if, erm-” Edwin stammers incoherently.

Maria holds up her ringed hand to silence him and finally meets his panicked gaze.

“I am pregnant.”

For a moment, Edwin believes he heard incorrectly. His expression doesn’t change as he waits for Maria to repeat herself. When she doesn’t, and the truth finally settles in, he feels the biggest, most-unprofessional grin slip onto his face.

“Oh Maria,” he says, forgoing all formalities as he quickly moves to sit beside her on the bed, “that’s absolutely wonderful!”

Rather than be offended, she seems to appreciate the use of her first name. She smiles in relief at Edwin’s positive reaction. “I only found out a few hours ago, you’re the first to know.”

“That’s amazing!” Edwin’s smile falters slightly. “Is it..?”

“Yes, it belongs to Howard.” Maria assures. Not that he had any doubt, of course, he simply just had to make sure in case she needed any support.

And, just to be extra sure, he cautiously asks another sensitive question.

“…Are you happy?”

Maria tenses for a moment, her eyes frantically scanning over Edwin’s face for… something. When she presumably does or doesn’t find what she’s looking for, she relaxes again.

“I’m overjoyed,” she says, her voice barely a whisper as she idly rubs her stomach, “but Howard-”

“Don’t worry about Howard.” Edwin cuts off firmly. “He is a grown man who adores you, he won’t run off when he hears- I’ll make sure of that. And though I can’t be certain what his initial reaction will be like, I can be certain that he will be every bit as happy as you are.” He smiles a little sadly. “I can only presume fatherhood does that to you.”

The fear doesn’t leave her eyes. “But how do I-”

“I can tell him, if you’d like, but I think he’d much rather prefer to hear it from you.” He interrupts again, reading her mind. “And I think it would be wise to wait until he returns tomorrow, otherwise he’ll grumble about unfinished work.”

Maria lets out a small, dainty laugh. It doesn’t sound entirely natural which does mean that she’s feeling more like herself. Then they fall into a comfortable silence, Maria twisting her ring absentmindedly as Edwin tries to settle his own giddiness from the wonderful news.

He truly feels ecstatic and over the moon for Mr and Mrs Stark. They are going to have a child! A small part of him can't help but feel jealous that he can never have that for himself.

He hates Whitney Frost with every fibre of his being.

But he and Ana have come to terms with the fact that they won't be able to have children, so instead he tries to channel all of his sadness into joy for his dear friends. Besides, he is sure that Mr Stark will let him babysit the child with Ana on occasion. The pair of them would do it for free without a second thought.

Suddenly, Maria shifts her position on the bed to face him before clasping his hand with hers.

“Thank you, Edwin.”

It is said with such sincerity that the use of his first name doesn’t make him even bat an eye this time. In that moment, it wasn’t a wealthy lady thanking her husband’s butler. No, it was an anxious woman thanking her friend.

“My pleasure.” He replies on instinct when she releases his hand.

“I’m sorry for keeping you.” She adds, and Edwin knows that’s his cue to leave. So, with one final smile of reassurance and glee, he leaves her to her own devices.

It isn’t until late that night, as he lies awake in bed with his wife beside him, that it occurs to him as odd that Mrs Stark told him first.

#marvel #mcu #agent carter #the avengers #edwin jarvis #ana jarvis #peggy carter #howard stark #maria stark #tony stark #i'll remember you this way #fic

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spaceskam · 4 years

Text

From A Whisper To A Scream (3/10)

warnings for this chapter: threats and fear

1 | 2 |

ao3

“I should probably go home.”

“Says who?”

Alex laughed softly and raked his fingers through Michael’s hair. They’d spent all of Saturday holed up in his bed, watching movies and kissing and talking about whatever, but now it was getting dark. Sanders had already gotten home from work, but he hadn’t said anything about Alex still being there. Yet.

“Your dad is probably annoyed,” Alex laughed. Michael scoffed.

“Sanders thinks you’re an incredible influence on me, so you can stay forever,” Michael stated definitively. Alex laughed again and Michael smiled so wide it had to hurt. But it was cute so that was fine.

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Shh, just stay. If you want to, of course. You can leave if you want to, but I want you here so you’re not overstaying your welcome.”

“Don’t you have that gift of mine to work on to pay me for that shitshow on Friday?” Alex asked. Michael shook his head.

“I think better about what you might like when I’m touching you,” Michael said, his hands sliding over his arm, “Also, I didn’t ask, are you feeling better?”

“I’m fine, Kyle’s just an ass.”

“True, but , look, okay, stay, we have so much to talk about.” Alex snorted and raised an eyebrow.

“Like what?” he asked curiously.

Michael scrunched up his nose and wiggled around a little bit to get comfortable. He eventually rested his cheek on Alex’s chest. It made it hard to see his face, but Alex wrapped his arms around his shoulders and waited for him to come up with an answer. Alex didn’t really want to leave. Home was boring and tense at best. It was way more fun to be here with Michael, his… someone. They hadn’t discussed that yet. Maybe that was on the list of things they needed to talk about.

“Like maybe you coming to my game this Friday?” Michael asked cautiously. Alex froze a little, staring up at the ceiling.

It was easy to pretend that the stuff that happened the night before was fine, that they were just assholes, that it wasn’t absolutely humiliating. It was also easy to be distracted by the giddy feeling he got when Michael just kissed him and cuddled up to him with no intention to take it further because they didn’t need to pretend they weren’t interested. But Alex was dreading going to school on Monday because he knew there would be a new round of rumors waiting for him. Going to Michael’s game felt like the perfect way to make all of that infinitely worse.

“I hate football,” Alex offered, “There’s a reason I’m not in marching band.”

“I thought it was because of the tall fuzzy hats,” Michael said wistfully. Alex rolled his eyes and moved his head down to kiss his head.

“Please, don’t ask me to go,” Alex whispered against his hair. He felt Michael swallow harshly.

“Okay, I won’t, I’m sorry,” Michael promised, lifting his head, “But can I come to your concert?”

“You would be bored to death,” Alex said. Michael shook his head, shifting up a little more to nudge his nose against Alex’s cheek. That led to a kiss on the cheek and then on the jaw, Michael slowly making his way to his neck. Alex let his eyes drift closed, holding him tight as he could.

“How could I be bored when you’re in that sexy little uniform?” Michael hummed mindlessly. Alex hummed.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously into you,” Michael replied, lifting his head to kiss his lips. Alex welcomed it and spread his legs a little, just enough to let Michael fit between them before wrapping them around his hips. He smiled. “Stay tonight, please?”

And Alex had no intention of leaving.

Monday was not exactly what he expected.

Rumors were flooding and a couple people definitely looked at him during class, but it seemed the talk wasn't really about him. Not really, anyways. Instead, it was ‘oh my god, did you hear that Guerin’s gay?’ over and over and over. Different variations of everyone telling everyone that Michael was gay, that he was probably dating Alex but it wasn’t confirmed, and that it was super suspicious that he kept it a secret while being on the football team for four year. Alex hated it.

Alex looked for him through the day, but Michael never seemed bothered by any of it. He was with Max and Isobel like he usually was. Despite being quarterback, he stayed beside those two more than anything. He laughed and talked with them like it was a normal day. Like he hadn’t gone from being ridiculously in the closet to overwhelmingly out of it within a few days.

Alex: Are you okay?

Michael: why wouldn’t i be

Alex looked up from his phone and then over at him across their English class. Michael was already looking at him, his eyebrows furrowed and his head tilted a little. He looked like a dog and Alex momentarily considered what would happen if he scratched behind his ears.

Alex: Everyone’s talking about you.

Michael: remember when i said i wish i could be like you

Michael: how am i doing?

Alex looked over at him and again was doused with that panicky feeling that he was falling too hard and too fast for a boy who wouldn’t give him the time of day. But Michael was giving him the time of day. Hell, he was asking for more. It was overwhelming.

But that overwhelming feeling was nipped in the bud whenever he got to lunch and was immediately crowded by Liz and Maria.

“Okay, spill,” Maria said. Alex blinked with as much innocence as he could manage.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Don’t act dumb, I was there Friday, I saw all the flirting right in front of my eyes,” Liz insisted. Alex shrugged half-heartedly.

“Are you okay after Friday?” he asked instead, “I know you ran off because Kyle was being an asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’m over it, tell us about you banging the quarterback,” Liz pressed. He waited for a moment to see if she would ask if he was okay, but she didn’t and that was fine.

“There’s nothing to say, I’m not hooking up with him,” Alex lied. They both narrowed their eyes at him.

“First the part where he took you out of class for a teacher you don’t have and then taking you to a party? Yeah, no one believes that,” Maria said. Alex shrugged.

“We’re friends,” he said. They both exuded disbelief. Which was fine and he was able to keep a straight face until Michael walked by. They made eye contact and Michael smiled, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and turning his head to keep looking even as he passed him. He eventually looked away, but when Alex looked back to his friends, he was clearly caught in the act. “Okay, fine, maybe we’ve messed around a few times.”

“Alex,” Maria said, leaning close, “He’s the quarterback of the football team.”

“Yeah, I know that. If you’re warning me about him probably having brain damage in the future from it that makes him violent, I’m already ahead of you,” Alex said casually. Maria held back a laugh as Liz rolled her eyes dramatically.

“That’s not what we mean! I just can’t believe it,” Liz said. Alex tilted his head.

“Why? You don’t think a guy like that could be interested in someone like me?” he asked.

“No, stop it, you’re amazing,” Maria insisted, reaching out to touch his arm, “I’m more shocked that you are interested in him.”

Alex thought about all the nice things like Michael did, all the kisses and cuddles he wanted, how soft he got when they were alone. There were so many days where Michael would be pent up with energy, not necessarily negative, but just too much. Alex had never met someone quite like him when it came to that, someone who got so overwhelmed so often with his own mind that he just couldn’t really function right. But he’d get in Alex’s space and Alex could feel him relax. He hadn’t really noticed it as early as he would’ve liked, but he was obsessed with it now that he noticed. It was ridiculously sweet.

And absolutely too personal to share.

“I don’t know, he’s hot and he’s got nice lips,” Alex said. Maybe one day he’d share more… but today was not that day.

“Are you gonna, like, start going to his games now?” Liz pressed. Alex rolled his eyes.

“Why would I do that?”

“Well, when you’re seeing someone, usually you‒”

“Nope,” Alex said, shaking his head, “No.”

“Okay,” Liz sighed, “I was expecting more gossip, but I should’ve known better coming from you.”

“Look, it’s just weird because I don’t really know how comfortable he is with everything,” Alex offered, “I’ll talk to him and if he’s okay with me saying more, I will.”

“God, why do you have to be such a good person?” Maria groaned. Alex huffed a laugh and she smiled. “But, hey, are you happy?”

“Yeah,” Alex admitted. They both just smiled at him.

“Good.”

It took a few seconds to get them to swerve back onto a topic that wasn’t his relationship with Michael.

He figured they both knew that, even if Michael did greenlight him talking about them, Alex most likely wouldn’t. He loved them both more than anything and they were his best friends, but some things were meant to be private. He didn’t mind listening to them sharing the gory details about their relationships, but that didn’t mean he had to join. He liked his one thing that was all his.

And he wanted to keep it that way.

The way the guys on his team were treating Michael now varied.

Some of them hadn’t changed the way they treated him, some of them were awkward, and others avoided him like the plague. Michael gave himself a pep talk every time he walked into the locker room, reminding himself that it would go back to normal soon. Eventually, they’d realize that nothing had changed. Until then, Michael could take comfort in stealing a few minutes after practice to make out with Alex until he had to go home.

When he spoke to them before and during the game on Friday, it seemed like it was slowly going back to normal. They listened to him, they played alongside him, they were a team. It was a nice feeling after a week of pushing through. Whenever they won, it was a giant dogpile of a hug, none of his teammates too afraid to hug him in celebration. He hadn’t realized how much it’d all bothered him until that moment. Until he felt welcome again.

“You good, Guerin?” Chavez asked, clapping a hand on his shoulder as they headed towards the locker room, “You got that look you get before you break shit.”

“I’m good,” Michael laughed, “Thanks, though.”

“I got your back, man,” he said firmly, grinning before he ran to get to the showers before it got too full.

Michael felt like he was on top of the world.

He got dressed as quickly as possibly, itching to go pick up Alex after he snuck out. He was having a good day. Or, just, a good life. Everything was falling into place. He had Isobel and Max, he had Alex, he had a roof over his head, he had a parental figure that cared about him, he had a semi-job where he could just work on a couple cars with Sanders when he needed money, and he had a future. All that seemed left was telling Max and Isobel about Alex, but even that seemed like it would probably go okay because of how good everything else was going. He was thriving and, for the first time, he wasn’t just waiting for the ball to drop. It was a nice feeling.

“Hey, are you coming to the party?” Palmer asked quietly as he started heading towards the door. Michael furrowed his eyebrows. “Keepin’ it kinda quiet, just the boys, Valenti, Johnson, and Long aren’t comin’, I swear.”

“I kinda made plans…”

“That’s cool,” he said, nodding, “Maybe next time, though? I know some of the guys have their issues, but fuck ‘em, you know?”

“Yeah,” he said, huffing a little laugh as he thought about Alex as he tended to do, “Thanks.”

“No problem, man.”

Michael nodded his goodbye before heading out and starting to head to his truck. There were still a ton of people around, waiting for their boyfriend or son or friend to come out so they could give him a congratulatory hug. Michael just weaved through them. Max and Isobel came to watch him on the first and last games of the season, but he knew they both found it ungodly boring, so he didn’t push. Sanders came whenever he could make time to, occasionally making time for big games, but Fridays were busy days and he understood. And then Alex had another set of reasons he didn’t want to go which was fair enough.

Michael pulled out his phone as he got into the parking lot. He’d parked all the way to the far end of the lot. It had become a habit whenever he first got the truck and would often debrief in random parking lots. If you were far away, it was less likely people would be close enough to try and look through the windows.

“Hello?” Alex answered.

“Hey,” Michael said, “I’m about to leave and head your way.”

“Cool.”

“The weirdest thing happened, though,” he said, spinning his keys around his finger and using his telekinesis to give it an extra little swing, “Chavez and Palmer both went out of their way to be weirdly supportive. Like it was really weird. Felt very ‘thank you for your service’, just for the random queer guy they know.”

Alex laughed, “It happens. I’m sure they’ll actually go back to normal soon. The overly supportive thing is better than them being dicks.”

“I guess. Just, when we were playing, I finally felt like everyone wasn’t walking on eggshells around me anymore. Then they chose a different kind of eggshell.”

“Give it some time,” Alex said, his voice warm and welcoming. It made him smile. “Oh, by the way, I got a surprise for you.”

“For what?” Michael asked.

“Mmm, you’ll see,” Alex laughed. Michael grinned even wider and, when he got to his truck, he quickly unlocked it with his mind and stepped in.

Which is when he saw his surprise.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Michael said, his heart skipping a beat in complete and utter fear that he just exposed himself. But Alex sat there in the passenger seat and didn’t seem to notice at all.

“Told you, had a surprise,” he said. Michael scoffed, shaking his head as he leaned forward for a short kiss. “I came to your game without technically putting myself around people I don’t like, just supporting you from afar or whatever.”

“Thank you,” he said, slowly trying to make his heart rate normal again, “You’re the best.”

“I know,” Alex agreed. Michael rolled his eyes and leaned in again, but he stopped a few centimeters away from his lips.

“Wait, how’d you get here? Is your car here? Do you have to go home tonight?”

“Dude,” Alex laughed, reaching out to put his hand on his cheek, “Calm down.”

“I’m fine,” Michael insisted. And he was. But he knew he was a little frazzled like usual, obvious enough that Chavez could see it. It seemed that even on his best days, he couldn’t escape it. He stared at Alex up close, his fingers tapping on the back of the seat and his stomach tightening the longer Alex didn’t answer him. “Please?”

Alex smiled at him fondly and moved his hand down to his neck and then up into his hair. It helped a little; it helped even more as he rubbed his thumb in small circles behind his ear.

“Liz picked me up and dropped me off, so my car isn’t here. And I don’t have to be home until 4:30 ‘cause my dad wakes up at 5,” Alex explained. Michael nodded, licking his lips.

“Can I touch you?” he asked. Alex took a deep breath and tilted his head like he was thinking about it. The moonlight seemed to reach out and find him in that moment, hitting him and his dark lined eyes in a way that made Michael feel like he was going to explode.

“Why don’t we go to your house first so we don’t have to stop?”

“Genius,” Michael said, leaning over to kiss his cheek before quickly going to turn on his truck.

“You okay if I sit close?” Alex asked. He didn’t ask for permission as often as Michael did, typically because his body language was much louder than Alex’s was, but it always made him feel special when it happened for whatever reason.

“Of course,” Michael said. Alex slid close on the bench seat and Michael backed out of the parking lot before draping his arm around Alex’s shoulders and heading him.

Yeah, life was really good.

There were moments in every young man’s life where he knew he had fucked up beyond repair.

Michael had gone on his morning run like he always did, stopping to get a bagel from the bakery before heading back home. The road was a long stretch of basically nothing. A car would drive by every once in a while, but typically it was dead because of how early it was. He always told Sanders how long he expected to be gone to put the old man at ease. While he knew nothing bad would happen, Sanders always got so worried about really dumb little things.

Though, it made sense. Michael didn’t know too much, but he knew Sanders knew what he was. He’d always known. He’d tell a half-truth here and there, occasionally mentioning his mother. It was enough for Michael to assume Sanders knew what could happen to people like him. Things like him. So Michael eased his worries and told him how long he’d be gone.

He never shared those worries and he probably never would. Michael was safe for once in his life and he wasn’t about to waste that on silly little fears. He’d made it this far without setting off anyone’s radar, he could make it another eleven years and then another after that. Besides, he didn’t kill humans with his bodily fluids, so he felt like he was set for life.

Michael looked around still to make sure he was alone before he lifted the bag of bagels into the air. He didn’t let them go too high, just enough for his own enjoyment as he swung them in figure eights. He never got to do anything really cool with them unless Sander greenlit it and that was rare, so he had to stick with expelling his energy in tiny ways.

And that was all fun and games until he passed the giant rock that marked his halfway point.

He never got to pass it, really, because, just as he was about to, a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders and slammed him against the rock. The wind was knocked out of him and he stared wide eyed at the man in front of him who was holding him in place with ridiculous force. His eyes were set, unwavering and unsympathetic.

“I don’t have any money, I swear,” Michael said immediately. The guy huffed a laugh, shaking his head and pressing down harder on Michael’s chest.

“You think I want your money?” the guy asked. Michael just kept breathing hard, trying to make sense of what was happening and the guy just pressed harder. It was becoming difficult to breathe. “I know what you are.”

“What?” Michael nearly squeaked.

“They’re gonna be so excited that I got one. A young one, purebred,” he said. Michael could see the way his eyes were lit up, overly excited for the presumed praise he was going to get. Michael was scared shitless.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Michael said. Maybe if he lied he would let him go. “Please, I don’t know what you’re talking about, just let me go.”

“You don’t think I did my research? I’ve been watching you and those little friends of yours, but you’re the only one that I’ve got proof. You’re a fucking monster,” he said. Michael couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. He wanted to go home.

“Okay, okay, okay, but, please. I haven’t done anything. I swear I haven’t done anything! Just let me go!” Michael begged.

“Yet. You haven’t done anything yet,” he said, “You really think I’m gonna just let you go?”

“Listen, people will notice I’m gone, okay? My-my dad knows where I am, he’ll notice I’m gone.”

“You don’t think I can cover that up?”

“But I’m the quarterback! The whole town will be looking for me! You-you can’t just take me.”

“People go missing all the time.”

Michael gulped, searching his brain for anything to get him out of this situation. He couldn’t think. It was too much and he couldn’t think. He tried to use his telekinesis to push the guy away, but it didn’t work. Nothing was fucking working.

“If you take me, I won’t tell you anything. I’ll keep my mouth shut, I don’t care how much you torture me,” Michael said, trying to sound stern. He wouldn’t say anything. He wouldn’t expose Max and Isobel. But he was finally fucking happy and he was not about to lose it. “But if you let me go, I’ll let you do whatever you want and tell you whatever you want.”

The guy scoffed, “And why would I go for that?”

“Th-think about it,” Michael said, trying to pretend he wasn’t shaking. God, he wanted to go home. “You said your people would be excited about it. B-But wouldn’t they be more excited if you had a whole bunch of information? I-I’ll let you do whatever, seriously, just, just let me go, okay? Just don’t take me.”

The guy was clearly thinking about it and Michael was trying to think of a non-confrontational way to push him more towards it. If this had to happen, if he had to get caught, he was going to try and steal as much time enjoying life as he could.

“And then, then you don’t have to cover it up or deal with anyone looking for me, you know? So it’s easier for you. And I’ll do whatever. No holds barred or whatever, you know? I won’t fight or argue a-and you’ll get all the information to bring your, your group or whatever,” Michael said, trying his best to seem like it only benefited him and not Michael.

“How do I know you aren’t going to run off?”

“Where the fuck would I go man? You’d just find me again. I swear, I’ll be compliant,” Michael promised. And he would. He was thriving in Roswell right now, he wasn’t giving that up. He wasn’t giving up Max or Isobel or Sanders or Alex. He just wasn’t. “I swear.”

The guy stared for a few more seconds.

“You fuck up at all or lie to me or tell anyone and I swear I will take you and it’s over, do you understand me?” he said. Michael nodded. “Give me your phone,” he demanded, letting up just enough for Michael to give it to him. He pressed down harder and began to mess with it, probably getting his number. But he sat there for a while, for what felt like ten minutes, and Michael figured there was probably some way that he could track him. Yay.

Eventually, he gave it back and took a hesitant step away from Michael, eyeing him. Michael was frozen. None of this felt real. He just wanted this to be over, wanted to go home.

“You stay honest and listen to me and let me do what needs to be done and I think we’ll get along just fine,” he said. Michael simply nodded. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Michael asked. The guy didn’t say anything, just pointed to behind the rock. Michael obeyed.

They slowly started walking and Michael saw a sandy brown colored car a few yards away that he had completely missed. The guy gestured towards the passenger seat and Michael got in without questions. His mind felt fuzzy and his panic had subsided to numbness. He was going to wake up and he was going to be fine. This wasn’t real.

“First question: how are you so young? When did your ship land?” the guy asked as he got onto the road and started driving, “You’re the youngest purebred I’ve ever heard of.”

“How do you know I’m a purebred?” Michael asked.

“Because I’m not fucking stupid and I know the difference,” he said, “Now answer the question.”

“As far as I know, I came here on the ship in 1947. I was, uh, in this stasis pod type thing and I came out in ‘97,” Michael answered.

“Stasis pod?” he repeated, “Is that how that works? Do you know where it is?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ll show me, won’t you?”

“Yes,” Michael said. He didn’t want to, but…

“Good. Tomorrow, then. I wasn’t expecting for this to go this way and I have plans, so I’ll pick you up tomorrow and we’ll begin truly.”

“Okay,” Michael agreed.

“So, you were in stasis for 50 years. That would explain the age, but not why none of the others did that. But we’ll figure that out later. Now, tell me, have you ever gotten sick?”

And for the next ten minutes, that’s how it went. He asked very basic questions. Illness, abilities, his limits. If Michael wasn’t so fucking scared, maybe it would’ve been cool to talk to someone about all of this. It was always a secret so, no matter how much he wanted to experiment and learn, he couldn’t. Now he finally meets the one person who he could do that with and he had to be terrifying and dangerous.

When the guy pulled up to the junkyard, Michael’s stomach dropped. He wasn’t sure why. The guy said he’d been following him, of course he knew where he lived. Was he the one who was watching Isobel a few days prior? It seemed to fit.

“I’ll find you tomorrow,” the guy said. Michael swallowed harshly and nodded.

“Okay,” he said, opening the car door and stepping out. It took him a second to steady his footing. He took a look at the guy before closing the door, realizing he didn’t have a name. Maybe it would help if he had a name. “What do you want me to call you?”

The guy just shrugged, “Let’s go with Eff.”

“Okay,” Michael agreed, “Eff.”

Eff drove off, kicking up dust behind him. Michael felt sick. He slowly went into the trailer, locking the door behind him and went to his bedroom. He locked that door too. Michael slowly got into bed, ignoring the fact that he was still sweating from his run, and pulled the blankets over his head as he balled up.

Maybe if he stayed there, it would all go away.

Michael sat outside the school in his truck, chewing on his thumb nail.

It’d been over 12 hours since he met Eff, but he wasn’t feeling anymore comfortable. He’d looked over his shoulder more than once and found himself putting on a sweater and sweatpants despite it being hot outside. He felt too exposed wearing his normal clothing.

Alex’s concert was today and, despite really wanting to go, he couldn’t seem to make himself go inside. There was so many people and he just wasn’t up for it. But he needed Alex, so he was here and waiting and ready to go home again. He didn’t know why he wanted to go home. Eff knew where he lived. He wasn’t safe. But he still did.

The parking lot slowly filled with parents and grandparents and students with congratulatory flowers, all happy and smiling and not aware that there was any danger. And maybe there wasn’t for them. Or maybe there was and no one knew about it yet. Michael triple checked that his doors were locked.

When Alex pulled on the handle, Michael nearly jumped out of his skin. He quickly leaned over and unlocked it and as soon as Alex was in, he locked it right back.

“Hello to you too,” Alex laughed. It was nice and warm and playful and a complete contrast to how shitty Michael felt. It instantly made tears burn in his eyes which was absolutely not cool. “Jeez, how are you not burning up?”

Alex rubbed his hand over his arm and Michael shrugged halfheartedly. He couldn’t find words and couldn’t seem to muster up enough energy to pretend. He was too overwhelmed and too scared and he needed to sleep.

“Hey,” Alex said softly, “Is something wrong?”

Michael took a deep breath and tried his damnedest to be normal. He nodded and tried to meet Alex’s eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Alex wondered, frowning a little as he reached out to touch his cheek. Michael folded his lips in and he looked away. “Michael.”

“I just wanna go home, okay? Can we please go home?” he asked, his voice cracking. Alex pulled on his shoulder gently, careful enough that if he wanted to push him away he could. But he didn’t and easily let Alex pull him into a hug. He held on tight, only a few tears escaping as he tried to just absorb Alex.

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” Alex cooed softly, stroking his hair. This was his reward. Eff let him go. He’d be back, but he left him go. Michael was rewarded more time with Alex and he would be damned if he let that get taken away from him. “You want me to drive?”

Michael typically didn’t let other people drive his truck, but he trusted Alex more than he trusted himself to drive Alex when he felt like that so they switched places. Michael stayed glued his side, his face staying on his shoulder as they headed home. Alex didn’t ask any questions, simply just held him and drove home.

When they got there, Michael locked all the doors again and got in bed first. Alex quickly stripped down to his boxers and grabbed one of Michael’s t-shirts before climbing in after him. He pulled him into his arms and tucked the blanket around him, surrounding him with his body. It was the first time that day that he felt like he could finally breathe.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Alex asked cautiously, just combing his fingers through his hair. Michael didn’t answer. “Was it just one of those days?”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed. Alex hummed in understanding, kissing the top of his head and putting his leg over Michael’s to tug him closer.

“Well, I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it happens. I’m not going anywhere. Tomorrow will be a little better.”

Maybe he didn’t deserve Alex.

#Malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #rnm fic #my fic #verse: from a whisper to a scream

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shihalyfie · 4 years

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The 02 epilogue and “realism”

While the following thoughts have been something I’ve been thinking about for a very long time, the official Kizuna Twitter posted some interesting tweets this morning about the 02 epilogue that made me feel very much like I wanted to talk about this in detail today, so I’ve written this up. Considering how historically controversial the 02 epilogue is (or having an opinion on the 02 epilogue at all, really), I’m probably standing on thin ice by even talking about it, but I’ll do my best.

I think there’s no way getting around the fact that the 02 epilogue was really sudden for pretty much everyone -- it pretty much jumps at you without warning at the end of episode 50, a sudden 25-year timeskip when we had just gotten out of Oikawa’s death (and a very chaotic finale in general). But there is another quirk about the epilogue, which is that a lot of what seems “illogical” out of it...is most certainly illogical to someone approaching it as a kid thinking in terms of media tropes, but gains a very different nuance when you become an adult and have a certain degree of life experience under your belt.

(Note: This post does not discuss Kizuna, despite being inspired by something from it, so no fear of spoilers.)

Before we begin for real, I just want to get it out of the way that I’m not trying to “defend” the epilogue in the sense of implying that people are unreasonable for being blindsided. Like I said, it was sudden, and it was a giant timeskip where a ton of incredibly massive changes happened, leaving the audience likely to be disoriented wondering what on earth happened in the middle there to lead up to that. On top of that, although the rest of this meta is basically dedicated to “analyzing the meaning behind the epilogue writing choices from the production perspective”, I will be very honest in that, yes, I do think that, regardless of good intent, it may not have been the best decision to go ahead and make these decisions in this degree of lack of thought as to how the audience (especially one that was expected to be largely comprised of children) would take it -- creativity is a two-way street, after all, and communicating with your audience and understanding how your work will come off is very important.

Still, nevertheless, I’m writing this meta because I think, well...now that we’re all adults, and now that we’ve gotten a plethora of development information over the past twenty years, especially in the light of Kizuna, it’s worth doing an analysis about why these kinds of writing choices were made, because even to this day you get a lot of people who feel completely blindsided about it.

Everyone’s careers

Actually, the reason I decided to make this post was that I was inspired a bit by this morning’s post from the Kizuna Twitter discussing why, despite being a lead-up to the 02 epilogue, some of the cast in Kizuna seems to be in careers or aspirations that are slightly off from the careers we saw them in during the actual epilogue. (Most notably, Sora still working in ikebana instead of fashion design, Mimi being into online shopping instead of her future cooking show, etc.) The official statement was that Seki Hiromi (producer for the original Adventure and 02) personally stepped in and warned them that, in real life, a lot of people will end up changing their career aspirations at this age, and that it wouldn’t hit close to home if everyone had it exactly figured out by this point.

Kizuna is a movie about the Sad Millennial Adult Experience, so of course it is very important that it be relatable to adults in the modern era. But, in all honesty, this principle applies to 02′s epilogue itself as well. Back when the epilogue first aired -- and for the last twenty years, really -- you got a lot of comments like “why didn’t Taichi become a professional soccer player? why didn’t Yamato go into music?” and such. The thing is, though...well, this is a personal anecdote, but I first got into Digimon when I was a preteen, and, having already had an experience where my childhood interests had changed completely, I actually severely disliked seeing people say that because it felt too straightforward. Even that early, that kind of thing felt unrelatable.

Kizuna as a movie, right now, would be impossible to make in the form it is now if it hadn’t been for the 02 epilogue setting that kind of precedent -- because of the idea of your childhood hobbies not feeling as appealing as they used to be and being very lost about what to do now, feeling that everyone lied to you about that whole “having things figured out by adulthood” thing, and maybe you’ll never really figure it out. But even taking out the fact that the 02 epilogue most likely wasn’t written with the idea they’d need to make an adult-relatable movie 20 real-life years later, I think it’s easy to glean that this philosophy was behind the 02 epilogue as well. Especially since, well...Adventure and 02 themselves were both famous for this kind of writing, for depicting the lives of children in surprisingly realistic and close-to-home ways that avoided generic anime tropes.

Actually, Kakudou said it straight-out:

There were a lot of anime normally made with the idea that a given rule must occur, but I decided to do them while having doubts about whether or not it was a good idea to take on such given rules without any detail. Even if we went on with these given rules, I tried to take appropriate steps in showing why such things had occurred through step-by-step arrangements and reasoning. That is why I tried to add a little bit of realness each time to the characters, despite the restrictions that they are from anime.

So yes, that actually was the point -- no using anime tropes unless they felt they could feasibly happen with these characters. Daisuke is commented on as having “the most anime-like” and idealistic personality, but as I commented in my earlier 02 meta, he still doesn’t quite hit all of the check marks on the shounen hero archetype. So after going for a whole series on the line of going into a grounded take on human mentalities and thought processes...it probably would be inappropriate to suddenly shift into an extremely idealized fictional trope-ish depiction of everyone just going into a more exaggerated version of their childhood hobbies.

Again, that doesn’t mean that some of these don’t come off as really sudden -- the most infamous being Yamato becoming an astronaut. This was eventually revealed in 2003 and several times later to be a holdover from the original beta concept for a third Adventure series, so in that light it makes a little more sense -- Yamato probably would be the most passionate about keeping up the fight as a Chosen -- but nevertheless, it’s ambiguous whether that actually still holds (especially since the actual, uh, “third series” was...a bit different), and since we live in a world where that hypothetical Digimon in Space series never happened, it still blindsides the viewer.

On the other hand, though, both the tri. stage play and the official Kizuna profiles only took less than a paragraph to explain the disparity of why Yamato isn’t doing music anymore: he wanted to keep it in the range of hobbies. Which, incidentally, is an extremely common thing for many who experiment with creative work in their youth -- many realize that if they make it into their job, they’ll actually start hating it. Conversely, while I haven’t talked to a lot of astronauts myself, I really do sometimes wonder how many of them actually knew they were going to get into it from childhood.

So that’s the thing. We have no idea what happened, we’re left with very little recourse as to bridging the gap (at least, until Kizuna came 20 years later and helped us out a bit), and that’s why it feels implausible to many -- especially for a kid in the audience who may not have had that experience of having their hobbies change or feel less appealing. In the end, like I said, I’m not sure that going about it this way was the best decision when the very target audience was likely to be confused about this, and since, after all, fiction does have to have some acceptable breaks from reality for the sake of being a followable story. But at the very least, it is very much in line with Adventure and 02′s philosophy towards writing and its characters -- that things would be the case based on what would be these characters’ likely trajectory as actual people, and not as what you might expect “because it’s fiction” or “because they’re this kind of character”.

That everyone has a Digimon partner

I have a very distinct memory of, as a preteen, going around the Internet and seeing a fansite where someone made their “better version” of the epilogue, where their favorite ships got married instead and everyone got the careers they thought they should have, but one major thing that stuck out was that it had the now-adult kids still keep the existence of Digimon a secret, and that it’s kind of a “secret club” that they still have. In general, one of the biggest arguments against the “everyone has a Digimon partner” thing is that this, allegedly, diminishes how “special” the Chosen are when they’re not the super-amazing sole people in the world to have a partner.

When you’re a kid, being the “Chosen One” sounds romantic. You’re a special selected hero with fated abilities to save the world. In the context of Adventure and 02, however, this would actually be very contradictory to the constant reminders given by both series that magical powers selecting you out of nowhere means absolutely nothing if you’re not the one with personal will and volition to do the right thing with what you’re given. In fact, I’d say it’s actually the opposite of what all of those people have said -- if you did something amazing because of fate or because some higher power said you should, it says a lot less about you than if you were given abilities and choices and actively made an attempt to do something good and change the world, by your own volition.

But the other very important thing about the epilogue is that people keep seeing this development of Digimon proliferating all over the world like it was completely out-of-nowhere, to the point I’ve even seen conspiracy theories that the epilogue was a last-minute decision. This is especially funny because the epilogue was one of the first things decided in the entire series -- “the entire series” in this case being not 02, but Adventure -- before they’d even finalized the characterizations for everyone! The 02 epilogue was, infamously, intended to be Adventure’s ending, before 02 was greenlighted and they postponed the plan there resulting in 02 ultimately taking the fall for it.

Because it was a new television series, without an original novel or manga to use as its reference, we had to cut back on the aspect of explaining the character to each voice actor, something that we would usually do under normal circumstances. We only described their basic personality during auditions because it was likely that those personalities would change drastically in the future depending on the plot’s developments. We did not omit the explanations because there were too many characters. I swear.

But in exchange, we began post-recording by saying just this: “This story is one that’s being reminisced on by one of the children in the group who becomes a novelist 28 years later. The narrator here is that child as an adult.” Those who watched the last episode of the continuation series “Digimon Adventure 02” would know that this was Takeru, but back then, that information was kept secret. At the time of the show, it was planned that the last episode of “Digimon Adventure” would end with ‘where are the characters now’ 28 years later. However, in mid-run, production for its sequel “02” was decided and its story contents were established to be juxtaposed to the previous show, so we carried over the 28 years later scene to the sequel series instead.

(From the afterword from Adventure novel #3, from director Kakudou Hiroyuki.)

25 years after 02. 28 years after Adventure. We calculated that very precisely. In 1999, there was Taichi’s group of eight, and there were also eight other people who didn’t appear in Adventure. Before that there were only eight total, and before that only four, and before that only two, and at the beginning, only one. If they were to double every year, then it would be 28 years until everyone in the world would be able to live alongside a Digimon. Threaded through both Adventure and 02 is a story about humanity’s evolution. For everyone to have their own Digimon partner is the final step of evolution. Because there’s not much left for our actual bodies to change in terms of evolution, it is a story about how the hidden parts of our souls use the powers of digital technology to manifest in the real world, resulting in humanity’s evolution.

Statement from Kakudou Hiroyuki, from the Digimon Series Memorial Book.)

About Digimon 10: The initial trigger for humanity receiving partner Digimon was the Hikarigaoka incident in 1996, but at the time the Internet network was not ready and it was too early for anything to happen. The following years resulted in two and then four people getting involved, and after that it doubled every year (twice, because digital and binary). About Digimon 11: Twenty years later, in the world depicted in the final episode of 02, all human beings have received a partner Digimon. This is the ultimate result of Digimon Adventure’s story of evolution.

Statement from Kakudou Hiroyuki, originating from Twitter and later moved to his blog.)

While the 02 epilogue taking place in the year it did sounds like it’s because they just wanted to add an arbitrary neat number of “25 years later” to 02′s finale, in actuality, the original goal was not for that 25 years but to specifically hit the year of 2028 (not 2027, actually), where, calculating the number of humans that could be partnered to a Digimon based on the global population, everyone would have a partner by exactly 2028. The “doubling every year” principle was only brought up in actual anime-centric canon in a drama CD, and even then it was in a context of speculation instead of being stated as hard fact, but it should be noted that even Kizuna is compliant with this principle, since To Sora states directly that the number of Chosen Children as of 2010 is over 30,000, which is the approximate correct amount you should be expecting by 2010 under this principle. (So yes, really, despite ostensibly not being compliant with his original concept, presumably thanks to the nail added by partnership dissolution and how that ties into his theory of Digimon being part of the soul, Kizuna actually goes out of its way to otherwise be compliant with even the more obscure parts of his lore.)

But the really interesting thing that this epilogue concept brings out is that “the adventure of the Tokyo Chosen Children” actually had nothing to do with the proliferation of Chosen Children around the world whatsoever. From the very beginning, even since the original conception of Adventure, the proliferation of Digimon was something that was going to happen whether anyone liked it or not.

In fact, let’s look at what Koushirou actually says in the aforementioned drama CD:

Yes. I’ve figured it out… The meaning behind the term “Chosen Child.” The number of “Chosen Children” has been growing at a steady rate. Having a partner Digimon isn’t really that special. Being a “Chosen Child” means… to cease the hostilities that break out and inconvenience the Digital World. In order to do so, that child gains a partner Digimon faster than another. In other words, we are children chosen to fight. That’s what it means, isn’t it? ... Oh, is that so? That’s surprising. I didn’t expect that not even you would know what countries the Chosen Children come from when they go to the Digital World… It’s Qinglongmon that’s helping you, is it, Gennai-san? Do the other Holy Beasts who have revived not know either? The Digital World is still so full of mysteries. I’ll do my best to look for them over here.

I think a lot of people tend to have misconceptions about the nature of a Chosen Child, and those who picked them, because the way everyone became “chosen ones” is actually very different from how most media usually would play the trope. In particular:

Homeostasis, the Agents, and the Holy Beasts are explicitly not gods nor omniscient. Homeostasis admits their own lack of abilities in Adventure episode 45, and there’s a recurring undercurrent of the “I don’t know” coming from them and the Agents not actually being because they’re deliberately cryptic, but because they really don’t know. In fact, the Digital World itself is depicted as being about as confused about this whole human contact thing as the human world is.

Note that Koushirou makes a distinction between “being a Chosen Child” and “having a Digimon partner”. If you’re deemed someone who might be able to do something important in this very early time when the Digital World is still trying to figure all of this stuff out, in a world where humans overall still don’t understand Digimon very well, you get first dibs because you’re someone who can be a valuable pioneer. In other words, just because everyone else will eventually get a partner doesn’t mean your contributions aren’t still historical, valuable, and important.

The Digital World was mentioned in Adventure episode 19 as being approximately as big in scale as the real-world Earth itself. That means the Digital World is huge. Of course, its time and space doesn’t exactly match up with the real world’s, as demonstrated multiple times in 02 when the kids abuse it to circumvent travel distance, but nevertheless, there is presumably a lot of the Digital World that neither the Adventure nor the 02 kids have seen in their lives. When they meet Qinglongmon in 02 episode 37, he introduces himself as being in charge of the Eastern side -- and we never meet the others. In effect, there’s probably a huge area of the Digital World that needs protecting that even twelve kids from Tokyo can’t cover by themselves. And that answers the question of what the international Chosen Children are there for -- what do you think they’re doing with those Digivices, twiddling their thumbs? The Tokyo Chosen’s adventures were the ones we were blessed with being able to bear witness to, but that absolutely does not exclude the idea that there were other kids going through their own tales of growth and adventure -- especially since, as I said, Homeostasis and the others protecting the Digital World are not omniscient, and there are a lot of known factors beyond their control.

On that note, you might notice that, by the doubling-every-year principle and by running a math calculation, in 1999, there were eight other Chosen Children besides Taichi’s group. This also tracks with the fact that Adventure episode 53 revealed that there were other Chosen Children prior to Taichi et al. who performed an incomplete seal on Apocalymon, ones that even Gennai wasn’t aware of (remember how I said that the Agents aren’t actually omniscient?). While the fact that such an ostensibly huge fact was dropped so casually is jarring for the viewer, in retrospect, the fact that this was dropped so casually was indicative of the idea of how...not very much of a big deal this was supposed to be. Taichi and his friends may have been instrumental in the selection process for Chosen Children back in 1995, but they weren’t the only ones who witnessed the Hikarigaoka incident nor to have contact with Digimon, and they weren’t even the first to save the Digital World, nor will they be the last. But the journey of personal growth they took was still important to themselves -- just because they weren’t the only ones who took it didn’t change the fact that such an important thing happened, nor that we got the benefit of being able to meet and resonate with these kids.

In fact, the Hikarigaoka incident wasn’t even the first point of contact with the Digital World. 02 episode 33 hinted very heavily that what humans have perceived as youkai and other spirits were actually Digital World contact, just not something actually noticeable until digital technology started connecting the worlds. Episode 47 revealed that Oikawa Yukio and Hida Hiroki had made contact sometime in the 80s via video games -- even though they weren’t Chosen Children themselves at the time. In short, the concept of the Digital World and its contact with the human one is something that spans throughout history, of which the Tokyo Chosen Children are only part of in very recent years.

And finally, one of the most important parts: the idea that the Digimon would stay a secret to the world for very long is inherently infeasible. The 1999 “Digimon in the sky” incident was international. It made international news. Everyone in Tokyo has clear memories of the “Odaiba fog” incident, and, as revealed in 02 episode 14, even a boy from America, Michael, has clear memory of seeing a Gorimon. Reporters like Ishida Hiroaki didn’t hesitate to get in on the scene and try to cover what was going on, and 02 episode 38 revealed that Takaishi Natsuko was doing intensive enough press coverage on the Digimon incidents that Oikawa actually sought her out for information on it. They’re probably not the only reporters around the world doing the same. One episode later, Gennai revealed that the government/military and scientific worlds had actually caught onto the existence of Digimon and did make active attempts to research it -- but, fearing that the world wasn’t quite ready to do that without exploiting Digimon for evil purposes, Gennai and the other Agents wiped out any data records so that they couldn’t do organized research or swap notes. But just wiping out data doesn’t wipe out the public memory, and, especially when the number of Chosen Children is proliferating, and with all of the Digimon-related disasters that happened around the world in 02 episodes 40-42, at some point the world is going to start becoming very aware of what’s going on with this whole thing.

And finally, about that thing where a lot of people claim that a world where everyone has a Digimon partner must be some kind of dystopia: I think this camp severely underestimates how adaptable the world is.

This is something that might not be as resonant to those who were very young at the time they aired, but Adventure and 02 were written in what was a very shocking and scary world for adults that were living at the time. The rate at which the world changed and adapted to digital technology in the late 80s and all of the 90s was ridiculous, and in some ways even terrifying. Many tech people have pointed out how much it feels like the entire structure of the world has changed in light of technological developments, AI, and the Internet in only the last few decades compared to centuries before. International policy has changed, daily life has changed, business structures have changed, in time much less than 25 years. Hell, I’m writing this post smack in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic; I think anyone reading this right now at this time can attest to how terrifyingly quickly the world changed itself in only a few months in response to such a thing.

Compared to that, a whole 25 years of slow burn where the Digimon partner rate at least had the decency to double every year and give people a chance to acclimate and make public policy seems practically luxurious. On top of that, while there will certainly be more people like the Kaiser out there abusing their power, Digimon evolution at least happens to be tied to human emotions (unlike many other weapons out there), and there is some stifling factor in less-than-pleasant people being a bit less likely to have the same access to overwhelming power as those who are more selfless and virtuous. That kind of limiter is something I wish modern technology could have sometimes.

So what is the Tokyo Chosen Children’s place in this narrative? At the forefront of such incredibly massive incoming changes were children who were living in a completely different world than that familiar to even people who were born five to ten years earlier -- much like the real children born in the world of technology in the late 90s. The Tokyo Chosen Children were some of the earliest pioneers in this regard, being the ones who had to figure out logistics and Digimon and the Digital World and what it meant to be a partner in a world that hadn’t figured any of this out yet, and arguably wasn’t ready yet.

Yet they did, and they saved both worlds with no precedent nor support on what to do. This, I think, is a massively more meaningful accomplishment than the idea that they were exclusively selected by some higher power.

On romance and marriage

I feel like this topic is one I’m setting myself up to end up with my head on a pike by daring to breach it -- there is pretty much no way I can cover this without setting myself up for some risk of this -- but I do want to talk about it. I really don’t want to make this post into a pro- or anti-shipping discourse post, so you’ll have to forgive me as I try to be about as diplomatic about this as I possibly can. For all it’s worth, I’m a firm believer in shipping and shipping headcanons being an integral part of the fan’s experience (heck, anyone who knows me knows that I often talk about my own ships more than I really should), and so, as I said before, I’m writing this largely from the perspective of elucidating “the most likely reason it was written this way”, and not “should it have been written this way” nor “how I think people should feel in spite of this”.

In any case, I’m going to start off this section by a statement from a friend that left a particular impression on me. I’d introduced them to Digimon recently, with both of us as adults, and one thing they commented was that the idea of shipping any of the characters felt a little too odd, because they were all elementary school kids. They, of course, understood quite naturally that I had been shipping some of these kids since I was their age (and that my current round of shipping usually was more about whether they’d get together later than whether they would during the time of the series), so it wasn’t an accusation of me being creepy or anything -- it’s just that, as an adult coming into this for the first time without a lot of preconceived attachments, it felt too weird for them to ship children at that young of an age, and it was something that made me think a lot about it.

As I said, shipping is often an integral part of the fan’s experience, even for those who don’t do “fandom” -- romance is such a huge priority that it permeates all of our media, and how it’s handled is often one of the first things deeply scrutinized. Part of the reason the 02 epilogue is so controversial is that it went pretty much against the face of the most popular ships in the fanbase, and the two that did go forward (Yamato/Sora and Ken/Miyako) weren’t ones that people would conventionally expect given what you’d generally look for when it comes to fictional relationship development.

But that’s kind of the issue here: remember when I pointed out earlier that Adventure and 02 were trying to stay away from anime tropes unless they found it to be particularly relevant to the characters’ arcs? In actuality, the way that people generally expect romance and romance tropes to happen in a series -- especially a not-particularly-romance-centric series like this one -- isn’t how romance generally works, and especially not for kids at the age we saw them in Adventure and 02. It doesn’t seem like coincidence that the first hard show of romance we get (Sora asking Yamato out during Christmas) is when the relevant characters were 14, which is around the earliest age you can imagine two kids actually taking a relationship seriously and having some depth of what they’re getting into. As if to drive this in further, Daisuke’s crush on Hikari is portrayed as a sign of him acting shallow and not having a good sense of priorities at the moment; the whole 02 main cast, as of 02, is probably still too young to entertain anything serious for at least a few more years.

If you look at actual couples, as romantic as “childhood friends to lovers” is as a trope, it’s actually not very common in real life, especially for “childhood” being defined as 8-12. There might be a slightly higher chance when it comes to the Tokyo Chosen Children, considering they’d gone through some shared experiences others might not understand, but even that gets slightly mitigated by the fact that more and more people around the world are becoming Chosen themselves. So while it can happen, and while it’s probably somewhat more likely for this group in particular, it’s not as likely as the average shipper would probably want it to be. Even those who support the canon ships don’t really favor the idea of them being in a continuous relationship all the way up to adulthood -- my personal experience as someone closely following Ken/Miyako fanfiction and comics in both the West and in Japan indicates a common thread of it being treated as a mutual pining ship until several years later, and the Yamato/Sora fans I’ve personally talked to have a very high rate of feeling that the two of them have experienced at least one breakup before getting back together. Or, in short, even people who like those ships have a hard time imagining a unbroken, continuous relationship all the way from elementary/middle school to adulthood, because of how much that generally doesn’t happen.

I promise I am not writing this as a treatise against the ship itself, I swear I’m just using this because it’s the best example I can pull out at the moment, but I’ll put it this way: I think the clearest example of this is Takeru and Hikari, the only pairing that has the unfortunate distinction of being explicitly confirmed as not being married (by Seki Hiromi in V-Jump), whereas everyone outside the scope of Yamato/Sora and Ken/Miyako is still technically in “believe whatever you want” territory. Takeru/Hikari is, depending on which scale of ranking you use, a ship that consistently ranks as one of the three most popular Digimon ships globally, and them not getting together is cited as one of the most common things disliked about the epilogue. But despite its overwhelming popularity to the point you’d think it’d be easy to cater to such a humongous fanbase by pairing them together -- and so few people would dispute it, really! -- not only were they not made an item, but they were explicitly confirmed as not being one.

Why?

Takeru and Hikari probably feel “baited” to anyone who’s looking at this from a romantic trope perspective. They’re constantly in each other’s company to the point where it almost feels like they like hanging out with each other more than they do others. Takeru is shown as having a particular investment in Hikari’s welfare in 02 episodes like 7, 13, and 31. They’re constantly associated with each other in promotional materials, too. But when you look at them in terms of their actual relationship as children...well, I’ll put it this way with another personal anecdote: I actually had multiple platonic friends like that back when I was their age in elementary and later middle school, and, uh...well, people did actually ask if we were in love with each other, and it genuinely, no-strings-attached, annoyed the hell out of me, because we weren’t, and I hated being pigeonholed into that.

In real life, platonic relationships happen a lot with kids in that age group, and it’s not actually all that surprising that 02 would have wanted to portray a healthy one without any strings attached -- the same way the series also portrayed other unconventional situations with kids, such as Iori being a nine-year-old who hangs out with kids much older than him (there are most certainly kids who can attest to being in that position!). I mentioned in my earlier 02 characterization meta that both Takeru and Hikari are actually rather inscrutable (especially in the first half of the series), and in fact, episode 13, usually quoted as a Takeru/Hikari episode, is actually centered around Takeru having difficulty reaching out to Hikari because, despite the fact he was closest to her at that point in time, she still was too closed-in to open up about anything. They almost never talk about what they actually think about each other, other than obviously having an investment in each other’s welfare and enjoying each other’s company, but, again -- this isn’t unusual for platonic friends at this age. And the fact that this is the one ship where there was actual official word putting a foot down and saying, no, this did not end up in marriage...everyone interprets this like it’s some kind of callous move made to make people miserable for no good reason, but I would say that, given the writing philosophy applied to the kids in nearly every other respect, the intent was likely to make a statement that this kind of relationship can exist without it ending up in inevitable marriage somewhere down the line.

We’re inclined to see “two people being emotionally close means a higher chance of being a couple” because this is how romance has been portrayed in media for as long as any of us have been consuming media, but in actuality, relationships are very multifaceted and complicated, and there are many ways to be “emotionally close” to someone in ways that don’t overlap with being “romantically attracted” to someone. This is especially once you start becoming an adult and end up needing to navigate the web of who’s a friend and whom you might have a crush on, and in actuality the person you start flirting with because you think they’re attractive might have been someone you just met last week, or at least someone you don’t know very emotionally intimately (which is why crushes can be intimidating, even in adulthood). This is also what I think fuels the disparity between why Taichi/Sora gained such a huge following and what actually happened with them, because many, many fans will testify that they felt baited by the ship, but if you look in the actual series in terms of what counts as “romantic attraction” and not just emotional closeness, there’s...not a lot; they happened to know each other before the events of the series (but so did Koushirou!), Taichi had a bit of a mental breakdown about saving her (because he’s not someone who abandons important friends), and in Our War Game! they had a bit of a spat with traces of tsundere (which, ultimately, are circumstantial and don’t necessarily indicate they actually have serious mutual feelings for each other). Official word implies that Yamato and Sora were planned since rather early in the series, and it doesn’t seem like coincidence that “pairing up the main hero and heroine” (Taichi and Sora) was given as an example of an avoided trope in an official booklet, so it lends further support to the idea that “not following typical romance tropes and expectations” was a significant priority.

Again, this isn’t me saying anything about those who ship it or those who have been able to figure out ways in which the relationship could work in some very wonderful headcanons I’ve had the benefit of reading over the past decades, nor those who are having a marvelous time with fanfic and headcanon and comics and being a bit more willing to indulge outside the scope of the series’s canon. (Nor the multitude of very good headcanons and meta I’ve seen about the possibility of Takeru/Hikari at least trying out dating somewhere along the line, even if it doesn’t end up anywhere permanent.) Nor does that mean I think that this was the best way for the writers to go about it -- as I’ve said in this meta already, there is an inherent fallacy of not paying enough attention to how writing will be taken and interpreted by people with certain reasonable expectations cultivated from years of media consumption, and especially by kids who aren’t going to pick up that nuance or don’t have the appropriate relationship life experience. Regardless of intent, there’s still a lot that can be criticized about its handling; in many ways, it could be considered a bit cruel that the series had things known to be considered romantic subtext in most other series that may not have been actually intended this way. But, nevertheless, I do feel very strongly that there’s a high likelihood that this is what they were at least going for, even if it didn’t come off that way to most of the audience.

Extrapolating this concept further, it’s also interesting to see how Adventure and 02 treat romance as a relatively insubstantial thing in the grand scope of things. I said earlier that it’s quite understandable that romance and shipping have become the main obsession for media -- and it’s probably been that way for as long as human civilization has even existed -- but when you really think about it, Adventure/02 treat romance as “a thing that is a big part of your life, but not the sole controlling factor”. Again, note how Daisuke’s precocious crush on Hikari manifests when he’s at his most shallow, and even after Yamato and Sora start dating in episode 38, we really don’t hear a lot about it -- granted, neither were in the lead protagonist cast by that point in the series, but whenever they do appear thereafter, it’s almost always about their work helping out as Chosen than it is about their relationship, which is presumably a private thing going on in the background. It’s a part of their lives, but it’s not the only thing going on with them. Of course, shounen anime with casts of these ages don’t tend to breach the topic of romance much at all, but it’s interesting how it touches on the topic and then leaves it in the background -- again, something probably frustrating and a bit too cavalier for those inclined to see shipping and romance as life or death, but from a real-life perspective, makes sense in the realm of friends’ relationships largely not being your business, even if it is significant.

(Ken and Miyako are a trickier matter because their pairing was allegedly based on their voice actors’ friendship, but considering that it has been cited multiple times across multiple Digimon series production notes that character outlines were often subject to change even mid-series based on impressions of the voice actors’ performance -- it happened in Tamers too, and it’s not even unusual for original anime in general -- it’s still ambiguous as to when in production this decision was made, and, considering the flip between Miyako having jealous pettiness over him in episode 3 to fantasizing over him and considering him exactly her type in 8, I would not be surprised if the decision were made somewhere in between there, especially since the fact the epilogue would eventually happen was already established in production over a year prior. Unlike with Yamato and Sora, we don’t get to see the two of them at a reasonable age to start doing anything serious within the scope of 02, which led to the unfortunate result of the reveal of them getting married in the epilogue being a very startling and sudden jump for many.)

In any case, I’m going to close this with yet another disclaimer -- I know I’m repeating myself too many times at this point, but I really, really want to make it clear that I am not, in any way, trying to imply that I don’t understand why people would be blindsided by the epilogue in any of the above ways (careers, the status of Digimon partnerships, shipping) because, as I said, I do think there is some merit to the philosophy that maybe they should have paid a bit more attention to how people -- especially kids -- would actually see the events rather than the writing philosophy behind why it should be written this way. (And, to be honest, I think I might have this complaint behind not just the epilogue, but both Adventure and 02 as a whole, for a multitude of different reasons.) Moreover, there are a million other cans of worms that could be feasibly discussed regarding the epilogue that I’ve only barely scratched the surface of here, because there are so many different topics to unpack when it comes to it, and I could go on forever (and further increase my risk of ending up with my head on a pike...). And of course there’s the wider issue of how to handle timeskip epilogues in general (they don’t really tend to be very popular, do they), so, really, there’s only so much I can cover in one post before dragging this on for too long. But in the end, even after writing all this, I understand that there are a lot of people who still won’t like it or don’t want to accept it, and that’s fine; it’s not my place to try and convince people to.

But, nevertheless, the reason why I made this post -- and what I hope the take-home can be -- is that, no, I don’t think this was made as a random off-their-rocker decision with the intent to make everyone miserable, nor some kind of fever dream that the writing staff must have pulled out while drunk, nor whatever accusations I’ve seen levied about it as a weird spontaneous idea (and the fact it really did come out very suddenly at people), but that -- regardless of how it landed -- there was some idea behind why it played out, and why, even 20 real-life years later, principles like “not everyone’s going to stick with the same career even in adulthood” continue to hold.

#digimon #digimon adventure 02 #shihameta

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wedreamedlove · 5 years

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Li Zeyan In Love - Character Study

I sat on this because I wanted to get more dates done but, after seeing people bring up this one poem that is the epitome of Li Zeyan in the aftermath of 34, I decided to finish this. This essay has been brought to you from my occasional bursts of frustration at Elex LOL.

First, I need to acknowledge that I'll be pulling comments from others who have made their own amazing discussions about Li Zeyan's charcter. PS. Thanks for inspiring me and giving me points to think about!

SPOILERS to Chapter 21. Plus CN card lines up to Chapter 34.

THE ENDLESS SEARCH

(Sorry, Luoluo, I still have no good essay thoughts on you yet.)

It's amusing that if Bai Qi's love is in the form of "all roads lead to you". He can see where MC is standing and he is moving towards that point, struggling through all the obstacles in the way.

And Xu Mo's love is in the form of the red string of fate. No matter how much they hurt each other, walk in opposite directions, or try to tangle it up, they are forever connected to each other.

Then Li Zeyan's love is in the form of searching for a needle in the haystack. The needle being MC and the haystack being all possible worlds and universes in space-time.

Li Zeyan has tons of quotes about time, staying beside each other, and searching:

[Winter Infatuation SSR] "No matter the distance or time, nothing can prevent me from keeping you by my side."

[Time's End SSR] "I'll find and bring back the past you."

[Tour to Deep Space SSR] "No matter where you are, I will always find you."

[CN Silent Twilight SSR] "You are the only predestined ending I believe in." and "I will cross countless spaces of time to look for an ending which has you."

[Main Story 18-16] "I will definitely find and bring back the past you."

[Main Story 18-23] "Don't make it hard for me to find you, understand?"

This is reflected so painfully in [Dim Light SR] where MC takes Li Zeyan to light lanterns and he writes a poem on it. Elex didn't translate the poem and, at the time, I was somewhat lenient. But after seeing references made to it... ELEX, COME OVER HERE. I JUST WANNA TALK.

So, Li Zeyan wrote:

The last line about his wish having come true already is the same in both CN and ENG.

He wrote the last line of this poem by Xin Qiji, one of many great poets in Chinese history. Here I have provided Irving Y. Lo's translation of the poem from "Sunflower Splendor: Three Thousand Years of Chinese Poetry".

The Night of the Lantern Festival, to the Tune of ‘Green Jade Table’ - Xin Qiji [1140–1207]

One night’s wind made a thousand trees burst into flower, And breath down still more Showers of fallen stars. Splendid horses, carved carriages, fragrance filled the road. Music resounded from paired flutes, Light swirled on water-clock towers. All night long, the fabled fish-dragons danced. Gold-threaded jacket, moth- or willow-shaped hair ornaments Melted into the throng, giggling, a trail of scents. In the crowd I looked for her a thousand and one times, And all at once, as I turned my head, I was startled to find her Among the lanterns where the candles were growing dim.

The bold is Li Zeyan's lines in Chinese.

@love-p typed up an amazing post about the context of this poem:

Regarding Xin Qiji, and the political context of this poem—he was a military general during the Southern Song dynasty, sidelined due to the policy of appeasement against the Jurchen.

The poem reflects his unfortunate political circumstances by contrasting the brilliance and liveliness of the Lantern Festival and the single-minded search of the narrator for just one, special, woman, ultimately finding her in the darkness with the dimming lights.

To the writer, the brilliance and beauty of the festival pale in comparison to his goal. He is not swayed by all this finery, and in fact is willing to reject the light, for what he has held in his heart all along.

Xin Qiji was a deeply passionate patriot, which ultimately led to his discharge and suppression in the changing political tides of the era. He spent decades in seclusion pretending to be indifferent to the world, but he never lost his love for his country, and held fast to his beliefs, even when they could (and did) cost him heavily.

There's other romantic interpretations of this poem, such as the woman deciding to stop and wait when she realized this man was looking for her. She is willing to be with him.

Another interpretation is that, these two are already lovers, and when he turns his head and sees her it reflects how your happiness was right beside you all along and you just needed to turn your head, instead of searching ahead desperately.

So, back to Li Zeyan and MC. He is quoting a poem from someone who suffered for holding fast to their beliefs and who can still ignore everything around him, even the light, to find what he's held in his heart all this time. HM.

@unluckysatellite also pointed out something great, which I bolded for emphasis:

I realized this just now, but MC and Victor have this narrative theme where they keep losing and finding each other, both in the main story and in their dates. The main story plays this out pretty seriously: Victor and MC meet as kids, and then Victor loses MC because of Black Swan, which causes him to search for her the next 17 years. Victor and MC meet in chapter 1 and then Victor loses MC in chapter 18 and he vows to find her again. Victor finding MC in that HBS trap during chapter 10 and nearly losing her at the end of the chapter (with the added irony of him realizing that she was the girl he was looking for all this time). YMMV if you consider MC losing Victor in chapter 14 since a black hole sent Victor traveling into the future, but both managed to keep contact with each other in the time he was away.

BTW the reference is that his [Dim Light SR] was released in 2018 for the real lantern festival holiday. Then in 2019 all the men send gems as gifts during the holiday. Li Zeyan sends mail with the title of "Turning My Head" and the body of the message is him promising to go to the lantern festival with MC this year too, but he reminds her to stay beside him and don't make it so that when he turns his head he can't find her.

THE CONSTANT

Now another common theme that appears over and over again in Li Zeyan's character arc is him being a constant amongst all the change.

[Main Story 11-19] MC confronts Li Zeyan about his overprotectiveness: "It doesn't matter if it's the previous me, or the me in the present, all of them are [a single] me. Do you understand?"

[Winter Infatuation SSR Sinful Late-Night Snack Call] "Of course I'm me. No matter when, the person at your side is always the same me."

@sharinluna wrote a great section about Li Zeyan in Chapters 19-21 and IMO these chapters just hammer in this theme more. Even in a world where none of the men remember MC, Li Zeyan still cruises along (mostly) the same as usual. He really is a steady constant when everything's gone topsy-turvy for the poor MC.

I commented about this in my post on Chapter 19's use of horror but hilariously Li Zeyan is the most normal out of the rest of the men. If the MC weren't around, it's likely he wouldn't be involved in so much craziness. This is reflected in how the MC thinks about how he'd be better off without her in [Main Story 20-4] and her dream version of him in [Main Story 19-6].

However, I always end up thinking about Alfred Lord Tennyson's quote on this topic: "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."

I honestly think this is one of the themes of the game too, shown at the end of Chapter 19 where MC doesn't regret holding onto her memories and experiences with everyone, even if that means going back to the cruel real world.

Because the game (hopefully) isn't going to invalidate our experiences with everyone that means that Li Zeyan is not better off for not meeting the MC.

IMO love doesn't have to do something monumental like change your world but I think it adds something to our experience as humans (no matter its form: platonic, romantic, compassionate, selfless, etc). This is why I love this game so much because it's all about love in its entirety.

So, even if Li Zeyan's character isn't changed in any earth-shattering way from meeting or not meeting the MC the fact that he chooses MC again and again over everything else means something. He is willing to sacrifice everything to find her, no matter how long it takes him or how many worlds and times he has to traverse. His constant state is choosing MC.

I'm so scared about the Banquet of the Fallen Moon. Why did he turn into a demon lord SOBS when he promised his father he wouldn't go down that path? If it's connected to MC... OOF.

THE LOVE AND SUPPORT

Here we reach the relationship the two do have! Uh, I swear I wasn't intentionally picking the sad quotes...

[Main Story 6-16] "In your eyes? Am I that unapproachable?" He says this but then grabs her hand and holds it through his company, not caring who sees them.

[Main Story 10-25] "I'm sorry, I came late. I won't lose you a second time. Nothing will be able to hurt you again. In the future, let me fight your battles for you, just like how you protected me that year, alright?"

[Main Story 11-14] "I won't hesitate to pay any price in order to let you avoid all dangers and affairs... The things you wish to do, I will release you and let you do them. However, now isn't the time. That's why, you need to be a bit more obedient."

[Chapter 11] in general shows his protectiveness over MC and consideration for her. From caring for her in the hospital, to sending her between work and home, and even the SP detail (even though it became overwhelming).

[Main Story 18-3] "... Every time I call you dumb isn't to insult you. [...] It's acknowledgement."

IMO these are all more examples of how Li Zeyan is like a steady mountain or a tree that provides a canopy and safe harbor for the MC to take her time growing up under. He wants her to better herself because he cares for her (like a quintessential Capricorn) but at the same time he knows when to back off and let her go at her own speed.

Li Zeyan will be there every step of the way with MC, just a little bit ahead of her so she has a direction but always ready to catch her should she fall. Unlike a certain BS liar COUGHS.

@sharinluna also wrote this great post on Reddit about how the dates reflect Li Zeyan's patience and awareness of the imbalance in his and MC's relationship. Chapter 11 shows this too where he realizes he was overwhelming her and brings back the "old" Li Zeyan to wait for her to make a decision on her own feelings.

Finishing off this essay with some quotes:

[Instant Moment SSR] "There is no such thing as eternity, only every single moment together with you."

This is so cute since it's said by the man who can traverse time. It's the little snapshot moments he can get with MC that mean the most to him.

There's actually another related quote which comes from [Winter Infatuation SSR Sinful Late-Night Snack Call]. This happens when they're talking about the meaning of the Ephemere shop and Li Zeyan quotes a poem about mayflies.

The Chinese line is from the poem "Former Ode on the Red Cliffs" by Su Shi:

"We are like mayflies enjoying a flicker of life in this world, and as infinitesimal as a grain in the sea."

Ironically, Li Zeyan is not asking much at all of the world. He is someone who has everything but all he wants is just a peaceful life with the love of his life and he has shown again and again that he's willing to give up everything for her...

But the universe spits in his face (because tragic Chinese archetype of Crown Prince/Emperor LOL) and makes him suffer so much just for wanting some fleeting moments of joy in this flickering human life they both have.

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #love and producer #love and produc(ing) meta #ELEX I WILL BURN YOUR COMPANY DOWN ONE DAY!!

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #348

“nothing will be free / nothing will be done / black out the sun”

Do you have any famous relatives? My third or so cousin is the author of Not Without My Daughter, but she's not like a smash hit or anything that most people know. I really do recommend the book, though. It's a long read, but a beautiful, true story. Do you care about celebrity gossip? Nah. Have you ever failed a science course in high school? No; I was very good at science. What’s your favorite breakfast food? Cinnamon rolls. Does your house have a basement? No. No house I've ever lived in has had one. Do you like Hot Topic? Well duh. Do you think imagination is valuable? VERY! Just imagine how many incredible things wouldn't exist without it. What was your reaction to your first time falling in love? Unspeakably happy, and I felt like I was building a future with someone. I felt like I had purpose, which I should mention to anyone reading is a mindset to NEVER adopt. No one gives you purpose; you're born with it. How much weight can you lift at once? Ha, not a lot. When you have your own house someday, what color Christmas tree do you want and how will you decorate it? I want a black one with faux snow on the branches, then maybe red ornaments. Kinda look like blood dripping off. Sounds metal. Name three YouTube channels you’ve been loving lately. Lately, John Wolfe, The Dark Den, and Aim To Head Mix. Have you ever bought a designer purse? No. Do you wear jewelry often? No. What color was your senior prom dress? Black. Are you colorblind? No. Name the people you know who are colorblind. Jason's older brother is colorblind to two colors, but idr which. Would you ever consider a career in writing? I'd love to. What was your first favorite color? Red. What do you think about horror movies? I love them. If you love them, what’s your favorite? I really enjoy The Crazies and both The Blair Witch Project movies. Oh, and of course Silent Hill. Got any cool Christmas presents picked out for family or friends yet? I don't have the money to get anyone presents... and while I sometimes get ideas about something I could make someone, then it wouldn't be fair to the rest of my family if I don't make them something, too. What’s your favorite word and why? I really like the sound of "serendipity," as well as its meaning. It's just a pretty, nice word. Do you like to do craft projects? If so, what’s the coolest thing you made? Not really... I think the coolest thing I made was when I put the clay heart I made in Art into a shadowbox, and a poem I wrote was in the background. It was a gift for Jason. I remember working really hard on the whole process and being really happy with it. I don't want to know what he's done with it since. What’s one occupation you think gets paid too much and doesn’t deserve to? I don't know. What’s something you are currently saving money for to buy? Everyone knows about Venus' terrarium by now... Do you smoke/vape? If so, what brand do you smoke/what device do you use? No. Ever done drugs? No. Tell me one of your worst habits. Catastrophizing. I take a tiny seed of something potentially bad, and in seconds it's a damn redwood tree. And I do mean "in seconds." What’s a weird quirk you have that no one else you know does? I don't know, I don't have any particularly unique ones, I think. If you game, what type of headset do you use? I just use earbuds. Do you think you would be a good therapist? You know, it's funny, I've actually pictured myself as one a few times, given my level of understanding and empathy for people, as well as how deeply I want to see others succeed and spread the word that recovery from things like depression is very possible. I've never truly entertained the thought, though, given I'm quite sure I legally couldn't be given my suicidal past and mental illnesses. There is also NO way I could listen to so many people's suffering and manage to stay healthy myself, so, no therapist position for me, thanks. Have you ever been to a Chinatown? No. Do you prefer chunky or creamy peanut butter? Creamy, 100%. Do you stop to pick up heads-up pennies? No. Do your pets have collars? Describe them: Roman has an adorable navy one with a bowtie. Do you have any friends that speak any languages you don’t understand? Old friends, sure. What is something you want to begin learning? I want to improve my ability to perform what in therapy is called "opposite action," where you do the opposite of what your depression (or other conditions) make you want to do. It always helps me feel good, like when I draw even when I don't initially feel like it, but it's rough to really force yourself to do it. What is a food you find comforting when you are sad? Ice cream is my comfort food. What is a quote you find comfort in? There are really a lot, but none come to mind immediately, gah. What is one Tumblr blog you really appreciate? I actually haven't been on my main Tumblr in months, but oh my god there is a Markiplier blog called "lady-raziel" and she is FUCKING HYSTERICAL. The meme quality is A+. What is a comfort movie/show for you? When I actually liked watching movies, I enjoyed watching Silent Hill when I was down. That whole franchise just makes me so happy. What is a recent creative project that you are proud of? That I'm PROUD of, idk. I'm not that happy with the last drawing I made, and I haven't done any serious writing lately that I find noteworthy. What is a video game that you find comforting? Shadow of the Colossus is probably #1. I find it so relaxing while equally epic as fuck. The soundtrack is to die for, and after playing it a billion times, it's pretty easy for me to kinda breeze through and just enjoy myself. Do you know how to bake bread? If so, what is something you’ve baked recently? No. Would you rather live in the mountains, city, beach, or the forest? THE MOUNTAINS!!! Particularly in the woods IN the mountains! Are you closer to your mother’s or father’s side of the family? Mom's. I don't even remember anyone from Dad's. Have you ever been in a “perfect relationship”? I thought so. Have you ever lost a fingernail or toenail? No. Were you a Disney or Nickelodeon kid? I preferred Disney. Have you ever been inside a jail/prison? No, and I don't plan on it. Have you ever dated a guy with a beard, mustache, or goatee? Jason had a goatee usually. He'd go clean-shaven sometimes. Did you ever name your stuffed animals? I named every single one I got as a kid. Now I don't, really, unless they're really special. What’s the name of the person who cuts your hair? I'd rather not share, given her name is very unique. Do you like cheeseburgers? Yes, they're one of my favorite foods. Do you have a Flickr? Yes, but I don't use it anymore. Did you ever want to be a fashion designer? No. Do you drink milk? Yeah, I love milk. Where was your FB display pic taken? My room. Have you ever burnt your tongue like REALLY bad? If so, what on? Yeah; white rice. My dumb ass didn't realize it had JUST come off the stove. My tongue hurt literally for weeks. Have you ever gotten your legs waxed? No. Do you own any CLOTHES from Victoria’s Secret? Er, are undergarments not clothes? But I know what you mean. No. What are your grandfathers’ names? William and... I can't remember Dad's dad's name. Have you ever seen a snake in real life? Well yeah. Are you against seances? I don't know if I believe in them being effective, but either way, they seem like a bad idea. Even risking luring a negative energy/spirit to you is something I'd stay away from. Do you own any superhero shirts? No, just Harley Quinn ones, some with the Joker on them, too. I need to toss 'em though because I am like, violently against romanticizing their abusive relationship. I used to just like them as a story character couple, but I got to a place where it just seemed... wrong to "glorify" it by wearing merch and stuff. What band has the best guitar solos? Metallica, durrrr. Who is the biggest jerk you’ve ever met? Can you believe that would be my former best friend? Have you ever swerved off the road to avoid hitting an animal? I've never had an animal in my path. Have you ever grown your own herbs? No. Do you like kissing in public? If you're my serious s/o, I could care less, so long as it's a simple peck. I'm not making out in front of people. Do you think someone has feelings for you? I don't know. Do you want to be in a relationship this year? I don't know. I'm lonely and love feels amazing, but I need to get my life on track before I can be a good partner to someone and not just dead weight. Has anyone told you they don’t want to ever lose you? Huh, funny, he's the one that walked away. How long can you just kiss until your hands start to wander? Uhhh that would depend on how serious we are, where we are, and just what mood I'm in. What’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for you? ugh What’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for someone? also ugh What’s your dirtiest secret? TMI AHEAD. Probably receiving oral while bare-ass naked on the chaise in the living room while we were home alone. Or having sex in my sister’s bed. Oops. Would you ever get lyrics tattooed on yourself? Yeah. I already do, anyway, and I plan on getting another. Can you photoshop images well? I'm decent at it. Where did you last drive to? Mom and I went to go get our Covid vaccines today. What’s the first verse of the last song you listened to? "I don't know what we're supposed to be, but I know we lost it along the way to something better, something so much more than pleasure that we seek, so blind inside to fill these holes left by these lies that we tell to ourselves as we manufacture our own hell." What do you hear right now? The aforementioned song: "BLACKOUT" by 3TEETH. What was the last thing you laughed about? This is so fucking immature lmao but when we were driving earlier, we passed a gas station that had a sign that was advertising Coke, but due to space limitations, it abbreviated to "2 liter Cok" and I cackled like a child. Mom laughed harder than I did. Do you know any gay people personally? Ye. What was the last thing that startled you? I think it was a car hoonking at somebody the other day. What was the last thing to make you even remotely sad? Today's been a kind of rough PTSD day thanks to Facebook. My old high school friend had her beautiful daughter, a childhood friend just got married the other day, another friend is due to have her baby in just a couple weeks... It's just weird but even more painful to know it was the life I once fantasized about with a guy that just dropped me and made a break for it. I hate admitting that there's this deep, deep bitterness in me about it, like he took my life away from me, even though that's of course very unfair to say. I don't want to talk about this anymore, so moving on with my day.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''blackout'' by 3teeth

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danlusional · 4 years

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05 - forever and a little more

book: Distant Shores pairing: Oliver Cochrane x f!mc (Valerie Sawyer) rating: NSFW word count: 2,487 note: that ending was so unsatisfying, might as well write the aftermath BECAUSE WE NEED CLOSURE @ PB!!!! i’d rant about how Oliver had so much potential to be an amazing LI but pb did him dirty, did the whole book dirty. retaliation? fics. so enjoy! p.s this is my first time in SO LONG to write a smut (this is even a very light smut i think) :”)

It wasn’t like the first time she landed somewhere she shouldn’t have been. She wasn’t confused or scared, she had a purpose now. Robert landed right next to her, just like how they first departed, centuries ahead of the time they were in at the moment. “So, you’re still going to him?”, he simply asked.

“You’re still after the treasure?”, Valerie retorted. They were definitely an unlikely duo but they both knew what they wanted and how to get them.

Robert scoffed and she could see a shadow of a smirk on his face. “Out of my way, girl, and we’re both going to get back alive.”

“What if I don’t want to do that this time around? Going back?”, the blond called out when he was already starting to walk away. The man stopped and gave her a look over his shoulder.

“Suit yourself. That blasted compass still going to take you back, no matter what.”, that was it before he continued on his way.

It was already dark, and they conveniently landed in the woods near Tiburon. From their past experiences, they’ve only skipped a few months up to a year or so ever since the first time Valerie found herself in the past. Now, she didn’t know how many times has passed from the last time she was here. The compass only brought them where the call of their hearts was, so it was no mistake that Oliver was in the small port town.

She moved quickly in the shadows, already changing into her time-appropriate attire, yet still not wanting to bring any attention to herself. People whispered and gossiped that she was plundering across the Caribbean or even further whenever she blipped out to the future, but it was better for her to let them keep the assumptions rather than to see her in the flesh.

The salty brine in the air grew stronger once she was already over at the docks. Her eyes scanned the towering ships, looking for his. There was no assurance that it was still the same after all these times, but Valerie had to trust her gut. If it wasn’t for the compass’ call, at least her feelings could navigate her through.

The Royal Navy flag gently swayed with the night wind and she knew, that this was it. There was still the rope that she always used to climb aboard, tied safely onto the deck. It was like he knew that she would always come back for him. And she always would until she couldn’t anymore.

Valerie jumped and climbed up, noticing the absence of any crew member milling about. It was easier this way. With the tip of her toes, the girl made her way to the door of the captain’s cabin, noticing the soft candlelight illuminating through the stained glass on it. He was still awake, she thought. Maybe this time she wouldn’t have to slid into his bedside.

The door opened and closed behind her back ever so softly, just like her steps against the wood beneath her boots. The room was warm and dimmed lit, almost cozy for her. Her eyes bore to the man standing at the front of the desk across the room with her breath hitched in her throat. He always had that effect on her. “Oliver.”, she softly called him, announcing her arrival.

He looked up from the paper he was holding in his hand and smiled, as if he had been expecting her to come tonight. “I knew it.”, he whispered before quickly closing the distance between them, embracing her with his strong arms. “I knew I could count on my heart to tell me that you were coming.”

“I thought you’d be back to England.”, she buried her face in his shoulder, taking a deep, long breath to savour his musky scent. “How long have I been gone this time?”

“Almost one year. I count each day in between, to make sure if there was some sort of pattern. I want to be sure when would the next time be.”, he pulled away, just enough to see her face with the soft glow around them while his hands cupping her cheeks. His words always punched a hole in her heart. They both knew the compass’ logic was hard to understand and how each visit could be her last.

“There’s nowhere else I want to be, except by your side.”, her whispers were as soft as the wind as it was only for them to hear. Nothing and no one else outside the cabin mattered. “I want you to be happy. I want you to live happily to your fullest extent. You’re going to be promoted—“

He put up his hand to stop her. “I have been promoted.”, a smile was threatening to bloom on his lips. “You are not looking at a lieutenant anymore. It’s Commodore Cochrane.”

Valerie gasped softly in surprise before launching herself at him once more, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. They both laughed as he spun her around before setting her feet back onto the ground. “That is amazing! Congratulations!”, she exasperated, feeling out of breath from the good news. “Has it been long since then?”

“Quite a time has passed. I was dying to tell you the news, just waiting for your return once more.”, he smiled that brilliant smile of his. The one that made her swooned by the stranger in a faux pirate outfit on the first day they met. The smile that always reminded her how big her love was for him, despite the time and space restrain. “How long do you have this time?”

“A few hours… Months… Years. You know how it can just take me back in a blink of an eye.”, she pursed her lips while their eyes interlocked. It had never gotten easier to go back and forth. They knew with every ‘hello’, she might not even get a chance to say ‘goodbye’. This romance they had was bittersweet, but neither of them wanted to let it go.

“Then, we best to make every second count.”, he smirked with his hands clasping her waist. She knew where this was heading and she took the initiative, backing him up to the desk. Her palms pressed against the smooth cold wood on each of his side, trapping Oliver in between. “Tell me what you want, Valerie.”

She loved it whenever she took the lead. He might be the respected Navy Officer out there, but here, where there were only the two of them, he was hers. “I want you to watch me. Eyes on me, Commodore.”

The girl stepped back as she slowly taking each article of clothing one by one. First, her boots. Next, she turned around as she unbuttoned her pants, bending forward as she pushed it down, just enough for him to appreciate her backside. Valerie could hear his low, tortured whisper. “Patience, Oliver. You are a gentleman, no?”, she teased him with a smirk over her shoulder.

“You enjoy testing my patience.”, his eyes were dark with lust as he held onto the edge of the desk, as if it held himself back from ravaging her right then and there.

She faced him once more, only her linen shirt was in the way. Her hands took their time to untie it and let the shirt fell to her feet. It always felt like the first time he had seen her bare in front of him. He could never resist her. There were times when she would asked for his attention with her body, whenever he was busy working or when she arrived late at night, but all those times, he caved in.

“I never have wanted you more than I do right now.”, Oliver extended his hand to her and she took it, guiding her back to him. He admired the sight before him; how the light reflected her skin, her blonde hair looked golden, and how right it felt whenever she was in his arms.

“Let’s test that, shall we?”, Valerie skilfully undo the buttons of his uniform, knowing her way around it after times and times again. Her hands glided across his smooth chest and every dips of his muscles to let the jacket off. She leaned in to press kisses along his jawline, stopping at his ear to whisper. “It’s your turn to tell me what you want.”

Before he could say anything, her hand was already at his trousers, unbuttoning them as well and tugging at the edge to push them down. It was the threat of time or just pure lust that made her so eager for him. From the looks of him, he seemed eager too. “I want you—“, his words was cut off when her hand finally made contact with his erection. She stroke him at a leisure pace while letting her lips made their way down on the side of his neck. “Fuck, Valerie…”

“Hm, I love it when you curse.”, she smiled against his skin as her hand kept working, teasing the head every time her fingers went up.

His hand finally caught hers and she knew that it was his turn. “You always know how to bring out the best and worst of me.”, he held onto her waist and turned her around, then backed her up until she had to lie down across the desk. Valerie could only laugh and wrapped her arms around his shoulder once more, bringing him down for a searing kiss on his lips. “Say my name tonight. I don’t care if the whole ship wakes up because of you.”

“Why, that’s a little scandalous, don’t you think?”, she grinned but they both knew they didn’t care. His hands trailed her sides once he straightened himself up, positioning himself between her legs. She bit her lower lip in anticipation as his feather-light touch drifted across her skin until they reached her hips. “What are you going to do to me, Commodore?”

He groaned at the sight and the tone of her voice. Oliver pulled her closer and let her leg rest on his shoulder, kissing the side of her knee. “You are mine.”, he whispered onto her skin as if it was a mantra he only said it in secret. His lips left a trail from her knee to her inner thigh, slowly and gently, rarely enough.

“Then, take me.”, the desperation was dripping from her voice as she looked at him through half-lidded eyes. The view of her sprawled on his desk, bare and ready, definitely enough for him to finally, finally, gave into her. He lined himself up before gently pushing his cock into her, bringing in a sigh from the both of them. It had been too long for him.

They started out slow and steady as Valerie wrapped her legs around him, making sure she got every bit of him. The warmth of the cabin, the building euphoria, and the feelings she had in her chest were making her dizzy. She could never get enough of Oliver’s moans and groans along every thrust. “I… Missed you so—“, she moaned at the end of her unfinished sentence, feeling his pace picking up.

“I missed you too. I missed this.”, he replied in fervent whisper. “There’s nothing in this world… That can make me give up on you.”

Her chest tightened, in love and in pain, all blended into one. She sat up and pressed herself against him, pulling him down with her hand on his nape to kiss him. Their breaths melt into one as they moaned against each other’s lips from the steady rocking of his hips. They were the very definition of star-crossed lovers and Valerie long realised that she could never love another man, like she loved him.

He swiftly picked her up from the desk with his arms secured around her, making her squeal and giggle from the sudden move. “What are you doing?!”, she asked as she held onto him, arms and legs still wrapped around him. Oliver lied her down on the bed and quickly pinned her arms above her head, holding onto her wrists together. “I love you. That’s something that can never be undone by time, space, or anything else in this universe.”

A smile broke onto his features and he just leaned down, letting their noses bumped onto each other as his forehead rested against hers. “My heart, body, and soul belongs to you. I don’t care if I have to sail the seas all my life for you… I’ll do it. I’ll do anything if it means I can have you with me.”

“I’m with you now. That’s what matters most.”, she whispered with her legs sneaked up onto his sides, wrapping themselves around him to bring him closer. “So, where were we?”

Oliver laughed softly, one of the most beautiful sounds she ever heard, and nodded. He still had her wrists held tied when he thrusted back into her. This time, he picked up where he left off and wasted no time to moved faster than before. The room seemed blurred as pleasure finally caught up to her. Her hands were desperate to hold onto something, anything, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Oliver…”, she moaned his name, eyes closing from the tight feel in her gut. He hummed in reply but that was the only thing they needed. They didn’t have to say much. Their bodies were already doing the talking.

———

When morning finally came, his hand moved against the sheet on the other side of the bed. Nothing. His eyes opened in an instant to see the bed empty beside him. There were traces of someone sleeping next to him, but where was that someone? Oliver felt his heart sunk, just like the other times where his love had to leave him once more.

“You’re awake?”, her soft voice caught his attention. She was only dressed with her linen shirt, bare from her hips to her legs. Her hair was slightly tousled from their excursion last night. It was not a dream.

Valerie smiled and came back to the bed, leaning in to kissed him while her hand gently stroking his cheek. “Did I scare you?”

“I thought you were gone already.”, he held onto her, afraid that time would take her back this instant. “It won’t be fair.”

“It’s never fair.”, she was right. “Every time I open my eyes and I see that I’m still next to you, I’m eternally grateful. I will never take that for granted.”

“As do I.”, he nodded, looking directly into her eyes and gently pushed away a strand of hair from her face. “We’ll set sail to London today. Do you think you’ll be able to stay until we live off a few years… or forever, over there?”

“There’s nothing I’d like more.”

#!tg:au #playchoices #distant shores #choices distant shores #oliver cochrane #oliver the lieutenant #oliver x mc #mc x oliver #pls send me any fics too to fill in this big ole gap in my heart #ds deserves better #most of the standalone books in choices deserve better

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the-thursday · 4 years

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Dear friends,

month or so ago, I've been tagged by @elizathehumancarrot in a post that was about sending hugs to 8 people you love. I wanted to make it a little bit more personal than just tag you, however I didn't have a time and space to sit down in calm and write down what I want to tell you.

First of all, I apologise for everything I've done this past year. I know it hasn't been easy with me (as I can be rather blunt and impulsive sometimes) and you have no idea how much it means to me that you didn't just write me off. Last year wasn't really easy for me and there are still lot of things I am struggling with as I am trying to find my place in this life. Many of you are there to support me through this difficult time when I am questioning everything. Lot of things just broke and I lost my sense as to where to go, what to do. Thank you. One of you even talked me out of ending everything. For the past few months, I almost destroyed a precious friendship with one of you just because everything in my head has been trying to drown me and I wasn't strong enough to deal with their feelings for me. Yet, that person still believes in me, even though it causes them great pain which I wish I knew how to erase. However, believe me, I won't stop trying.

Let me start, then.

@redrose-arrow , without you, I wouldn't be as far as I am now in RA fandom. You supported me from the very beginning when nobody knew me. We haven't been in contact lately because you're struggling with few things on your own but I want you to know I never forgot you. Thank you for being the amazing brave young lady you are. I hope things are gonna work out in your favour, the way you want them to!

@thanksveryga , as I am writing this, I almost don't have words to say. All I have are tears as I am now sitting in park. There are not many things I haven't already told you, but once again, I want to say Thank you with capital T. You know for what. You know what you did. And aside from that, you gave me a gift of new perspective to look at the world. Despite all you deprecating views on the life, there's this bright flame burning inside of you that gave me motivation and courage to don't give up. You're one of my most trusted and dearest friends ever. And I'll always be here for you. You're an amazing artist, an awesome writer, and the most wonderful friend.

@thebutterflyranger ^^ You're absolute sunshine and it has always been a joy to talk with you! You always managed to make me smile no matter what. You're so wonderful and kind person and your presence feels like a gentle sunset at beach. I've always cherished all moments I spent writing or talking with you. We haven't been talking lately because there's a lot going on in your life that means a lot to you and you have my best wishes^^ You'll always have place in my heart

@feelingmeechy ! I know we haven't been much in touch lately but I want you to know that you're still there when I think of my friends. You're an amazing young person who I really admire. When I reached out to you, you were in a lot of pain and suddenly all I wanted to do at the moment was to simply screw the school and everything and fly over to you and hug you. You made me realize the importance of some things that I hadn't actually thought through before. I thought I knew, but thanks to you, I learned so much. Thank you for everything. I hope we can stay in touch and maybe write so more again.

Dear @aseikh ... I find so hard to put the words I wanna say to you together. You have no idea how much you mean to me. For me, you were always there with a kind word on your lips to comfort me when I didn't believe in anything and myself. It hasn't been always easy for you too, to deal with the feelings of loneliness we both have/had been dealing with. Yet you always managed to reach out with reassuring hand to me. With you, I learned how to process some things better than I did before and you taught me the importance of certain values of life and people around you. I've always looked up to you because of your courage and kindness. You were never afraid to express your opinion and thanks to that, I slowly began to come out of my shell. Thank you for everything, Aves, you mean a lot to me.

@hessystuff , I actually needed to take a break from writing this because as I thought over what I want to say to you, I started to cry all over again. You're always there to hear me out and you have no idea how much it means to me. I always feel so safe with you, as if I were wrapped in warm blanket. I can share anything with you and I thank you for all the trust we can put in eachother. We don't know eachother that long, yet I feel like I've known you a lifetime. You've gone through many trials and troubles and I don't even have words just how much I admire you for your strength that lies in your mind and heart. You don't believe much in yourself and that makes me sad because you're really amazing young lady who will make her mark in this world. And even if I were the only person to believe in you, I always will. Thank you, Hessy, for all.

@ranger-melany ... Past few months have been really hard for us, that's mostly to blame on me. I am sorry I couldn't offer you what you sought and that I shut things down. I already told you why that was and I am once again telling you, you'll always be my friend and you mean much to me. I apologise for all you've had to go through because of me. I always liked the bright energy within you that makes all people around just smile. You're full of ideas and I am sure that one day, one of them will be written in world records. Thank you for believing in me.

@theravenlyn ! Meeting you was one of the best days in my life. I always look forward when we're writing (or calling for that matter). You're such an amazing artist and you're one of idols in the world of art. I love how live your drawings can get with right expressions on their faces. You're also very kind person who helped me in many things and you were always ready to support me. We don't know eachother for that long but I want you to know I'm always here for you^^

@iris-silexea , you absolute sunshine! Besides Rose, you're probably the person who's been here from very beginning. It always brought a smile to my face when I saw your profile pic pop up in my notifications. You always support me and my work. It's not that long since I actually wrote you, but I want you to know, you were always there. And now, for the past few weeks you always wrote me to check up on me and to comfort me. It means a lot, it really does. Thank you Iris^^

@vallirenwrites ... Oh Val, you're so wonderful, I don't even have words. You're so talented and clever and I've always considered it an honour that I met you. You have a whole future ahead of you and I know you're gonna mark down your place in history one day. You listened to me many times and I've never properly thanked you for that. And now, few days ago as my health was a little at stake, you cared so much that it actually brought me to tears. I know why you did, I am so sorry for what happened. You're the main reason why I sought medical help later and it probably saved my arm. Thank you for everything, Val, you're really wonderful and amazing and I love your work for this fandom.

@elizathehumancarrot ^^ You absolute treasure!! I so love the bright flame inside of you, the enthusiasm you're able to out in things you do! I love your wonderful poetry and the wonderful soul that's in your heart. You also helped me realize a few important things that I thought over many times and I thank you for being one of those who made a better person with greater understanding. Thank you for all the encouragement you always give me and other people. You're amazing person and you mean a lot to me.

And, thank you all out there for being who you are and making this fandom a family me^^

#thank you all #you all mean much

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hunterbahamut · 4 years

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A Sulefi’s Tale

Back in 2002-2003, I had written a story known as “A Gnoll’s Tale”. It was a simple fantasy short story that I had come up with, influenced by a few sources, including Baldur’s Gate (I had used a character editor that actually let me change my player sprite with the gnoll sprite). Sadly, the original story was lost when the place I had posted it to before shut down some years ago.

I hadn’t thought about the story in a long time until I say @knaveofdoodles post some art regarding a race he had come up with, the sulefi who are a race of half humans/gnolls. I was a big fan of the idea, so I decided to work on an OC of one myself, and I ended up giving him the same name as the old gnoll character: XanThral.

Because of that, the idea of the story came back to mind, and I had decided to rewrite that old story. Even though I didn’t have the original, I was pretty confident that I remembered the events and was confident enough to actually sit down and start working. I just didn’t realize how long it was going to take, I started this story sometime back in September. However, I ended up putting it on hold until sometime in November when I felt confident enough to start working on it again.

So...for my first story post of 2021, here is the completed story: A Sulefi’s Tale.

I should mention though; this story was written in the same mind set as my other stories, so there is every possibility that there will be grammatical and spelling errors. I did this mostly for fun.

I hope you enjoy!

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A Sulefi’s Tale

It was a beautiful day; the sun was out and there was a warm breeze blowing, rustling through the leaves and sending waves over the grass in the open field beyond the forest edge. A lone figure sat underneath the trees in the shade, looking out over the open field and the serene view. This was one of Xan'Thral's favorite spots; it was a nice walk from his home in the forest and it had an amazing view that thankfully didn't see a lot of traffic, so he could spend hours here and enjoy the scene.

With the warm breeze blowing through his tunic, he started to feel sleepy and he let out a wide yawn. He had nothing else planned for today, so a nap sounded like a great idea right now. The half-gnoll leaned back against the tree, he looking out over the sun-soaked field as he slowly started to drift off to sleep.

Not soon after he drifted off, he found himself in a familiar dreamscape. It was night in a large forest, the the dark skies were filled with stars and the surrounding trees glowed with a faint magical energy. He was on a cobblestone path that lead to an ancient fountain further up ahead, sparkling water still flowing from it with dark green ivy growing over the old stone. This was a dream that he had for the past few months and it always stuck in his mind even after waking up. He always wondered if there was was some kind of significance to this place that he didn't understand.

There was a figure standing by the fountain with a mystical glow surrounding them them much like the trees of this forest that kept their features vague, so he was never able to identify what they were. The figure was there every time he found himself in this dream, spending time with them and talking about something, but by the time he woke up he could never remember the details or the words.

This time though, it was different.

The figure looked towards him and he came up the pathway and spoke; “The time is coming.” They said, speaking in an echoy, ethereal tone.

Xan gave them a confused look. “Time? What do you mean? Time for what?”

“Your time is coming, young one. Fate's path lies before you.”

He looked at them in confusion, “You keep telling me about this...'path' and the future, but I still do not understand.”

“It will become clear to you in time.” They said, stepping closer to him, “Just do not be afraid of what is to come. You have been raised well, and you will know what to do.”

Xan shook his head, “That really doesn't help comfort me really.” He admitted, “It doesn't make much sense, isn't there more you can tell me?” As he asked this, he could see that the sky was starting to change, the colors started shifting as if dawn was approaching. This was a sign that he would wake up soon.

The ethereal figured looked up as well before they spoke again. “There is little time.” They said, “I cannot tell you of what is to come for fear of changing what is meant to be.” They knelt down and took his hand in theirs. “ I can only help guide you, dear Xan'Thral. But, I believe in you.”

There was an odd sense of comfort in hearing that and he slowly nodded his head. Before he could say anymore, he found himself waking up. Xan let out a soft groan as he started to sit up, rubbing his head and looking around. It was night now, the sky was dark and there was only a little light shining from the crescent moon hanging in the sky. “Didn't expect to sleep for so long...” He said to himself; normally this wouldn't be a problem, but now he had this weird feeling he couldn't shake. “I better get going...”

He slowly started to get back to his feet, but he paused when he heard some kind of rustling nearby. Before he could get a chance to look around, something came rushing from the nearby brush and tackled him to the ground. He let out a yelp and tried to struggle, but that was when he saw a flash of metal and soon felt a blade at his throat.

“Move and you're dead, freak.”

Xan grit his teeth and was ready to fight back, but he started to hear more movement as several others emerged from their hiding spots. He was outnumbered, leaving him little choice but to stay still as the others gathered around. “I don't have anything of value...” He tried to say, but felt the blade press against his neck.

“Oh we have what we want.” The assailant said, and as if to emphasis his point, the halfling suddenly felt the cold snap of metal shackles on his ankles.

Slavers.

He felt his breath catch in his throat as he was suddenly pulled off of the ground, one of cloaked figured grabbing his arms and locked another pair of metal shackles onto his wrists. “Alright you. Move.” The thug said said, shoving Xan forward, nearly knocking him down. Chains rattled as he nearly stumbled before catching himself. He gave the group a quick glare, but he moved with them as they started to march him away from forest.

They marched for some time until they finally reached what seemed like make-shift camp. There was several wagons circled around a large central fire, Xan could see that there were several others tending to those wagons and the herd animals. Most of the slavers appeared to be human, but what surprised him was that a small number of them had pointed ears; where they elves?

“Hey boss!” One of the slavers called out. “Guess what? We got a new one!”

One of the pointy-eared figured looked over at the group and let out an audible grumble. “For Hells' sake, what is wrong with you lot?” He asked, starting to berate them. “We're already on a job! I told you we don't have the time or the space to carry on any excess baggage!”

The one thug started to sound flustered. “B-but boss, wait 'til you get a load of him!”

The elven figure seemed irritated, but he finally seemed to notice Xan and moved in for a closer look. “What is that, a sulefi? This far west?” He sounded surprised, eyeing him suspiciously.

“That's what I thought!” The thug replied, “It seemed stupid not to nab him! We could sell him off and-!”

“It was stupid to nab him, you moron! I told you how sensitive this job was!” The boss started to grumble again. “Hells, fine. Throw him into the wagon, we'll figure out what to do with him once we reach the port. But I swear, it'll be your head if this goes all wrong!”

The thug seemed satisfied with that and he pushed Xan forward again, leading him to one of the old wagons that was nearby. It was an enclosed wagon with bars on what few windows there were and a heavy beam over the door that was held in place with a large iron lock. There was a guard standing nearby, unlocking the door so the thug could push the sulefi inside. Xan stumbled again and turned as the door was slammed closed without another word, hearing the heavy lock from the other side. He grumbled, giving the door a quick ram with his shoulder before he sighed. “Great...how do I get out of this one...”

He studied the door for a moment before his ears twitched, picking up he sound of chains rattling behind him. He turned, realizing that he wasn't alone. Huddled in the far corner was another figure, looking tired and were in dirty clothing and shackles. They were filthy so it was difficult to identify them, but with the shape of their head and muzzle, he figured they must have been of some draconic heritage like a dragonborn. They watched him in the corner with remarkable blue eyes, though they were filled with fear and exhaustion.

Xan watched them for a moment before he slowly approached them, but they started to shrink back away from him. “It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you.” He said, trying to reassure them. “We're both in the same situation.” The figure didn't speak, still watching them cautiously, so he tried to be patient. “My name is Xan'Thral.” He said, “What's yours?”

The dragonborn didn't reply right away, still watching them before they spoke in a soft melodic, if not weak, tone, “Skye.”

He nodded his head and slowly knelt down near them. “How long have you been captive?”

Skye looked down, shuddering a bit. “I...I don't know.” They said, “It's been hard to keep track of time. Weeks, maybe a month now...”

Xan twitched his ears and frowned, “That long?” He shook his head; where were they planning on taking them? Something felt wrong about all of this; they only had this dragonborn, and they were holding them for nearly a month? He took in a breath, “We need to find a way out of here. I'm not going to let them keep us in here any longer.”

The dragonborn shook their head, “Even if we could get out...then what? Where could we go?”

“I was raised in these woods.” The sulefi said as he got up and started to press against the wooden walls and rapping his fist against them. “I know my way around pretty well and my home isn't far from here. ” He paused when there was the sound of some ruckus from outside. The two looked over to the door before Xan moved over, trying to look through the barred window and see what was happening.

“Check it out!” Xan could see a group of slavers outside starting to roll out some barrels while cheering and jeering each other. “C'mon everyone!”

He then heard the elf boss addressing the group. “What are you lunkheads doing?”

“We found these in our supplies!” One replied, “I didn't think we had any of this stuff left, so we're gonna crack em open! Gonna have a fun time tonight!” There was a loud crack from one of the wooden barrels, making the others cheer. “C'mon boss! I think we deserve this!”

“Hells...” The elf grumbled, “Fine, but don't complain if you get your arses kicked when we get ready to leave tomorrow!”

The group cheered and immediately started to fill their mugs.

“What's going on?” Skye asked.

“I think they're getting into some kegs of alcohol.” He replied, stepping back from the door. “If they're going to get drunk, then this may be our chance.” He moved to the back of the wagon again and started press against the wooden walls again.

The dragonborn watched him, “W-what are you doing?”

“Looking for a weak spot.” Xan said, rapping at the boards again. “This wagon looks pretty old and worn down, so there might be a chance that there's-” He paused when he rapped and heard a dull rattle. “-a weak spot.” He started to push on it, grunting a little as a part of the board started to groan and and push away from the rest of the wall. “Here! We might be able to push this out and make our escape!”

Skye looked at him, the expression on their face a bit hard to read. “Do...do you really think we can?”

Xan pushed on the board a little more, gauging the gap he was able to make before he relaxed. “It's dangerous, but it's better to try than waiting and letting them sell us off.” He sighed and slowly lowered himself down to sit, “We just have to wait a little while for the drink to start working on them.”

They let out a soft sigh and looked down, “It's...it's been this long already. Can wait a little longer...”

Xan looked at them, swallowing hard as he tried to keep himself calm. “Where do you come from?” He asked, hoping to keep heir minds occupied as they waited.

Skye looked down, shivering a little under their tattered robes. “I lived towards the east...” They started slowly, “I was...with a group, on our way to Alexandria. That was...was where I was hoping to...to start my study and training.”

“Alexandria?” Xan replied, “That's where the great library is?”

They nodded again, “The largest in the land, and where one of the magi guilds is said to be located.” They shook hard again. “I...we were on our way there, but...when we stopped at another town...I...I was separated from the others...and...and...”

The sulefi nodded his head slowly. “It's okay, I understand.” He let out a soft sigh, “What about the others you were with? Do you know what happened to them or if they're looking for you?”

“I don't...I don't know.” Skye's voice was starting to tremble. “They have to be looking for me, but these...slavers must be clever.” Xan could hear their voice crack a little as they started to tear up. “I know that they must have tried to rescue me, but...but I'm afraid something may have happened...”

Xan looked over to them, really starting to feel sad and concerned for them. “Hey, don't you worry.” He said, trying to reassure them. “I...I'll get you out of here, and after that we can try and find them.”

Skye was quiet for a long while. “Why?” The finally asked; taking Xan off guard. “Why would you help me like this? We don't even know each other.”

“Because I don't like seeing others in pain or in trouble.” He said, “I'm certainly not going to leave you here all alone, and I'm not going to abandon you after this.”

They sniffed, looking down for a moment. “I have no way to reward you...”

He shook his head, “Don't you worry about that. Let's focus on our escape.”

The wait was unbearable; the two sat there in silence, but Xan kept watching and listening to the activity outside. It didn't seem like it took very long though before he could pick up the rather familiar sounds of drunken activity as there was loud and slurred talking, boisterous laughter and the occasional crash.

“This may be our best chance.” He said and he moved to the back of the wagon and started to press on the weakened board, the lower portion starting to pushed away from the base.

Skye watched with a look of concern. “What about our chains? They'll slow us down.”

“They will, but-” Xan grunted as he pushed harder, “-they will be too drunk to notice. We'll be long gone by the time they notice.”

The dragonborn still seemed worried, but they slowly got up on shaky legs, moving closer and started to push with him. Xan could tell that they were weak, but they were both feeling anxious to escape and they put in all the strength they could muster. The board groaned as they pushed, more and more space being made until there was the soft cracking of wood as old nails were pulled away. They gave it a few more rough pushes and soon the section of the wagon fell away.

Xan hopped down first, waiting to hear if there was any reaction from the slavers before he helped Skye down next. He was still being cautious, waiting for a few extra moments before the two started to rush towards the forest, using the wagon as cover as much as they could. The forest edge felt like it was miles away and Xan could hear Skye struggling to keep up, the chains rattling enough that they were afraid the slavers would catch them at any moment.

Finally, they reached the treeline, but the dragonborn's breathing was heavy and ragged now. “I...I don't...I don't think I...”

“Don't worry, you're doing good.” Xan said, panting a little himself. “We're have cover now, we can-” He stopped and both turned back as they suddenly started to hear shouting, seeing the dark figures starting to run around in a commotion. “Dammit, they must have realized we escaped! We gotta go!”

Skye whimpered and tried to push forward, but they stumbled and fell to their knees. “I c-can't...”

Without a second though, Xan reached down and lifted them off of the ground; shocked to discover how light they actually were, and rushed into the forest. “Hang on, we'll loose them in the woods.”

The sulefi moved as fast as he could; me may have known his way around, but rushing in the dark and fighting against the hobbling chains made that much more difficult. He didn't stop though; he was confident that they would loose them if they kept moving.

Or so he thought. His ears perked up when he heard some rough stumbling behind him. He stopped and turned to see that, somehow, the elf leader was following them, and had caught up. He was breathing quite heavily from his rushing and had a sword drawn, though he held it and himself up awkwardly, showing that he was affected by the night's drinking. “You little sssonavabastard-!” He growled out, sloven eyes narrowed as he glared at the two. “I knew you'd be trouble! There ish no way in the nine hellsh I'm going to let you get away with our prize here!”

Xan glared back at the slaver, hearing a faint whimper escape from the shaking Skye. “There's no way you're going to take either of us back!” He shouted firmly.

The slaver laughed. “Fancy yourselfsh a hero, boy? I'm gonna knock that 'hero' right out of you right here!”

Xan stood his ground, but he didn't like his chances. Even though the elf was inebriated, he had to try and protect Skye and fight while still in chains. The elf made a clumsy advance and the sulefi was able to move around him easily, giving him a moment so he could quickly lowered Skye down by a tree. He then turned in time to see the the slaver move on him again, swinging his blade out. Xan raised his arms up, this time using his shackles to his advantage and used the metal to deflect the blow away. He then quickly raised his arms up, slamming his fists up against the elf's jaw and staggering him backwards.

“You damn mongrel! I'm going to put you down for good!” The elf yelled out, swinging and stabbing his sword, but Xan was able to deflect most of the blows, feeling the blade nick and cut at his arms as he tried keep himself between the slaver and Skye, keeping him away. Despite his best attempts, the chains on his legs would yank and catch, causing the sulefi to loose his balance and fall to his knees. The slaver saw this as his chance and he raised his sword up, ready to bring it down on his head., but Xan quickly raised his arms up, catching the blade against the chain. He quickly wrapped it around the weapon and yanked the elf down just as he pushed himself forward, tackling into him to the ground and sending the sword flying away.

The two struggled and scrambled to get back up, Xan keeping himself in front of Skye while the elf got back to his feet, the fight and adrenaline making him more focused now. “You damn little bastard! I'm going to make both of you suffer for this!”

Xan tensed up and readied himself for the next attack, but he hesitated when he saw a cloaked form appear behind the elf. “What the-?” Before the elf realized what had happened, he suddenly realized the newcomer was there and felt a blade press up against his back. “Who the hell-?!”

“I'm the one that will be taking these two away from you.” The newcomer said, “If you value your life, then I suggest you stumble your way back to your friends and forget about all of this.”

The elf sneered, “You must be out of your damn mind!” He said, then gasped as he felt the blade press in.

“I won't warn you again.” The figure threatened, “Don't push your luck.

“You're already pressing yours!” The elf spat out, “If you try and take the freak away, it won't be just us that will come after you! There are plenty of others who are looking!”

“I'll take my chances.” The figure said, “What about you?”

The elf responded by quickly turning around, pulling his arm back ready to strike, but the cloaked figure was faster. He struck the elf in the head with the pommel of the sword, knocking him to the ground like a sack of flour.

Xan had quietly moved back towards Skye, staying next to them as he watched the scene play out. The cloaked figure sheathed his blade and then turned towards the two before slowly approaching. “Don't worry, I'm here to help.” He said, holding his arms out in a nonthreatening gesture. “In fact, I owe you my gratitude.”

The sulefi watched him warily, “How can I be sure of that?” Xan said; he wasn't so sure, but then he noticed Skye's ears twitching as they finally heard the voice. “G-Gareth...?” They asked weakly, lifting their head up, “Is that really you?”

The figure nodded, reaching up to pull his hood back, revealing a dark-skinned human. “It's me, Skylar. We've come back for you.”

Xan turned as he heard them gasp out, “Do you know him?”

Skye nodded. “He's one of my companions I told you about-!” They tried to push themselves up, Xan helping them back to their feet. “Are the others here too...?”

“Aye, we're all here!” A new voice spoke up as two others soon came to view; a dwarf in chainmail armor and a taller elf maiden in simple traveler's robes. “It took far too long to reach you,” The maiden said, “But we're here now.”

The dark-skinned human turned his head to the newcomers, “Is everything alright?”

The dwarf let out a hearty laugh. “Oh aye, just had to deal with the scum that was still willin' to fight. They b' feelin' that mistake in the morning!”

Gareth nodded and then turned to the other two. “We've been trying to catch up with this caravan for weeks. We had planned to ambush the slavers and rescue you, but...it seems like your new friend here worked faster than we could.” He turned to look at Xan directly, “We owe you our thanks for your help.”

Xan didn't say anything right away, he could feel Skye trembling in his hold before they took a few steps forward, embracing the human as much as the chains would allow. Gareth himself was speechless, embracing them for a quiet moment. “I'm sorry we didn't come sooner.”

“You still came...” Skye said, starting to sniff. “I was so worried...”

The human nodded, “Let's get you away from here.” He gently lifted them into his arms, then looked to the sulefi. “Come with us, we can get those chains off of you and offer you a place to rest.”

Xan was quiet, but he nodded at the human's offer. “Thank you...I would appreciate the help.” He said, finally starting relax.

“It's th' least we can do, mah boi!” The dwarf said with a smile, marching up along with them. “Let's out some distance between us and that scum!”

The group started to move deeper into the woods, and eventually Xan could hear a creek running nearby, giving him a pretty good idea of where they were now. It took some time, but soon they arrived at a small camp with two tents and unlit fire pit. The human sat Skye down and quickly started to work on the removing the shackles with his lockpicks, while the dwarf hurried over and started to pitch the tents up and the elf went to build up a fire up using some of her magic. Xan stood there, feeling a little awkward as he watched the human work.

“So what's yer name?”

The sulefi twitched and blinked, turning his attention to the dwarf as he approached. “Oh, uhm, it's Xan'Thral. Most just call me Xan.”

“Well met then Xan!” The dwarf said, “I'm Heldric of the Homeguard clan. My companions here are Gareth Ranger and Lady Vanya.” Despite his shorter height, the dwarf slapped a hand onto Xan's back and lead him closer to the fire. “Here, looks like ye've been injured, lemme take care of that fer ye.” The sulefi thanked him, but was a little surprised as the dwarf touched his arms and started to say something in his native dwarven language. There was a gentle glow forming around his hands and there was a gentle, soothing feeling washing over him. He looked down seeing the slashes and cuts on his arms were completely healed. “You're a cleric.”

Heldric laughed. “Aye, follower of the great Forge and Hearth Watcher himself!”

There were several quiet snaps as Gareth unlocked the shackles from the dragonborn and tossed them aside. “Vanya, can you tend to Skye while I help our guest?”

“Of course.” The elf nodded and went over, gathering some food and cups while the human moved next to Xan and started to work on lockpicking his shackles next. “So how did you get caught up with those slavers?”

Xan's ears twitched and he shrugged gently. “Honestly, it was complete chance. I live in these woods not far from here, and I was just out before I was ambushed. They jumped me, chained me up and immediately took me back to their camp.”

Gareth sighed, “This group seem to be better trained than others we've encountered. They've been rather brave operating this far inland, it's been worrisome how effectively they're working as well.”

“Did the same happen to you?” Xan asked.

Heldric scoffed, “Not exactly, lad. We were on our way t' Alexandria and we stopped in the town of Bethal. Skye went off t' do some shoppin' as we were preparin' to leave, but that was when we found out that they'd been taken.”

“We managed to catch one of the slavers, and he was quick to spill what he knew.” Gareth said, “They were hired to go after them and only them. We were meant to protect them, but we had no idea there was some kind of plot, nor that a group like this would work so quickly and so well in a crowded town like Bethal.”

Xan slowly nodded his head, “I admit...they didn't seem like normal slavers, at least from what I've heard.” He twitched an ear, “The boss seemed really upset that others captured me.”

“Aye, whoever hired 'em had eyes only on our Skye 'ere.” Heldric huffed and crossed his arms across his chest. “We thought we coulda rescued 'em right away, but they moved too quickly. Took us days to get a lead and we've been tailin' them ever since.”

“We had formed a rescue plan,” Gareth continued. “We planted the ale kegs in their supplies and waited for them to get drunk before we moved in. Dealing with them was a lot easier that way, but that was when we discovered you had already broken out and took Skye with you.” He looked up at him, “You really did us a great service, and we owe you a debt of gratitude.”

The dwarf let out a laugh, “Aye! Whether it be luck or fate, ye were in th' right place at th' time!”

Xan twitched his ears at that, thinking back on the dream. “Yeah...yeah I suppose so.”

With a final click, Gareth was able to unlock the final shackle, tossing them aside as well before he got up. “The least we can do for you is let you stay with us, give you a good meal and a bed for the night.”

Xan nodded, as he rubbed his wrists. “Thank you again for that, I am rather hesitant to go off this late after everything.” He looked over to Vanya and Skye; the dragonborn had been rather quiet all this time, and it appeared they had fallen asleep. Vanya motioned for Gareth and he went over, lifting them up and taking them to one of the tents. “I still find it strange,” Xan said, “Do you have any idea why Skye was the only one they wanted?”

Heldric was quiet, going over to their supplies and started to dig through, as Vanya answered. “As you may have noticed, Skylar is unique for a dragonborn. They are not physically strong like many of their race, but they do seem to have an amazing affinity for the arcane. This is only an assumption on my part, but someone must have learned of this and want them for some unknown purpose.”

“Best guess we have at the moment.” Heldric said, setting up a cooking rig over the fire before passing a waterskin to Xan. “What about you lad? Y' said you live around 'ere, but what is a sulefi livin' all the way out here?”

Xan took drink, hesitant to answer. “My parents made a home out here after...” He paused. “My parents were forced into a slave army by the Dark Forces many years ago.”

“The Na'Daar?” Vanya said, quirking an eyebrow. “I see.”

Xan nodded, “They didn't tell me much, but they told me plenty stories about how they and the others rebelled against the soldiers, actually forming a group of resistance fighters before the war ended. I've lived here for most of my life.” He looked down, “After their...passing, I had thought of maybe going off on my own, travel and maybe find one of the other gnoll or sulefi tribes, but I've been hesitant.”

“Aaaah aye, I understand.” Heldric nodded his head, “I know I was a wee hesitant t' leave my home, but the call to adventure is hard to ignore.” He laughed, “And I am glad t' have met my compatriots here!”

Gareth finally stepped out of the tent and approached the fire. “Skye's asleep.” He said, “Heldric, can you look them over and see if they need any healing?”

The dwarf nodded, “I will, but I dun think there's much I can do. Just needs some good rest and good food, build up that strength again.”

“I would agree.” Vanya said, “It would be wise to head for the nearest town so we can resupply and give Skye a chance to recover. We can also send word to Alexandria and let them know of our status.”

Xan was quietly listening in before he spoke up. “The closest town from here I think is Fire Waters, to the west.”

“I don't think a detour would do us any harm.” Vanya said, supporting the idea. “They need the chance to rest as do we all.”

“It would mean going in the wrong direction for us.” Gareth said, “But, I have to agree. I think we all could use the rest.” Before anymore could be said, the human stood up and turned his attention to the sulefi, “Speaking of, we only have the two tents, but the three of us will be taking on a rotating watch, so you're free to take the other tent and get some rest. We'll be ready to head out in the morning.”

The group shared a small meal, and soon Xan decided that he would turn in, taking one of the bed rolls inside the tent and laid down. He was finding it difficult to rest though; it had been a long day and he had so many thoughts running through his mind. The abduction had actually spooked him, but now finding himself with these adventurers, it was hard to shake this strange feeling, especially when he thought back on the dream. It couldn't have been a coincidence...could it?

It took some time, but he did eventually fall to sleep, but he would find himself back in the familiar dreamscape. He stood next to the aging fountain, and the mysterious figure stood nearby, gazing into the sky. “The time is here.”

Xan looked at them, twitching his ears. “So was I meant to meet Skye and the others like ?” He asked, “Is this what you meant about my fate?” He started to frown a little, “But now what? Is this all I was supposed to do? Or...or is there more I should do?”

The figure slowly turned to look at him, “You are now on the path Fate intended, but it is now your choice to follow it.”

“My choice?” Xan seemed a little surprise by that wording. “If this is Fate, then...how can I have a choice?”

The figure walked over to the sulefi as the sky started to change with the approaching dawn. “You always have a choice.” They said, kneeling down to look at him. “A path has been laid out for you, but you are the only one that can decide to take it. Choose what you feel is right.”

Before he could ask any more, Xan started to wake up and found himself inside the tent alone. It was mostly dark out, but the area was starting to lighten up up as dawn approached. He sat up and rubbed his head, the words from the dream echoing in his mind. “Choose what feels right...” He really wasn't sure what to make of it, but he didn't have a chance to give it much thought when his ears twitched a the sound of voices outside: it was Gareth and Heldric. He slowly got to his feet, quietly listening in on their discussion.

“I'm still not so sure on this.” Gareth said.

“It'll only be a few days travel.” Heldric said.

“But that's using the main road. If those slavers do try to find us, we'll be easily spotted there.”

Heldric huffed, “If they try to find us, but they'd have t' be pretty daft to try. Especially all the way there.”

“Maybe, but we thought we were safe in Bethal too.”

Heldric let out a sigh, “Aye, I'll give ya that. But I don't think Skye'll do well takin' a longer route either. I think we'd be better off takin' the fastest route as possible.”

Xan started to frown with worry. He was certainly concerned for all of them and was starting to wish there was something he could do to help. There wasn't much, but that was when a thought came to him and he stepped out.

The two turned to him as he emerged. “Ah, g'morning Xan.” Heldric greeted. “Didn' mean to wake ya yet.”

“It's okay, I was awake already.” The sulefi said, “I did catch some of what you were talking about, and if you're worried about any more trouble on your trip, I'd be more than willing to help out.”

The two looked at him curiously. “Oh aye? Well, won't mind any advice or direction ye can give us, lad.”

Xan twitched his ears, “Actually, I was thinking that I could help more directly and travel with you to Fire Waters.”

That surprised the two and Heldric let out a soft laugh. “Oh aye? That's a generous offer, lad-”

“But it's too dangerous.” Gareth said, interrupting the dwarf. “We won't endanger a stranger in this.”

Xan frowned at that and crossed his arms over his chest. “I've already been pulled into this once, so I know of some of the dangers, but I do actually have some martial training, so I can at least offer another arm to help you out.”

Gareth couldn't reply as Heldric let out a laugh and nodded his head. “Well then! I dun think adding a new member t' our group would hurt, but are ye sure you want t' do that? After Fire Waters, we'll be headed for Alexandria.”

The sulefi nodded his head, “I'm sure. I've been thinking about going off on my own already, and I think traveling with you to help out would be a good reason to do so.”

Heldric nodded, stepping over to him and clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Well I certainly welcome a good arm t' the party! Whaddya say, Gareth?”

The ranger seemed a little loss for words. “What about your family or friends?”

Xan shook his head, “I live alone here, so all I'd need to do is gather my gear back at my house and make sure everything is secured before leaving.”

The human sighed, “I'd want to ask Vanya before we decide.”

“I think it would be a good idea.” The elf replied, returning to the group from the direction of the creek. “He's already proven his skill and bravery, and I have no doubt that he would be quite the fighter unfettered.”

Gareth let out a soft sigh. “Alright...if you're sure.”

Xan smiled a little and nodded before he turned to the elf. “How is Skye?”

“Doing much better, I would say.” She replied before stepping to the side. Xan realized that the dragonborn was behind her, and he was taken aback when he saw them. Skye had the chance to get cleaned up and was dressed in proper travelers robes, revealing gleaming white scales and soft blue fur, matching their already brilliant blue eyes. Suddenly their name took on a whole new meaning.

“Oh wow...” Xan said quietly, looking at them until his eyes met with theirs and he quickly turned his gaze down for a moment. “Uhm, you look so much better now.” He said, sounding a little embarrassed.

Skye smiled a little and nodded. “Thank you. I certainly feel better now...” They paused and looked at the others, “...thanks to all of you.”

Heldric smiled and laughed, “Aye! Now we're all back t'gether!”

“We best hurry and break camp.” Gareth said, “Will you be able to find your way back to your home from here?”

“It'll be easy.” Xan said, nodding his head. “I have a pretty good idea of where we are now.”

“Good, once you're ready, then we can make our way to Fire Waters.”

Skye twitched their ears and looked towards him. “You're coming with us?”

Xan nodded, “The other seem to be okay with the idea. I would like to help you out, if you'd have me.”

They looked at him and a faint smile started to appear. “I...I'm happy to hear that!” They said, twitching their tail behind them, “I...uh...I do...I do owe you for your help.”

Xan laughed a little, pausing as the others started to tear down the campsite. “It's nothing, really. I just...if there is any trouble, then I want to be there as well.”

Once the group had packed up their supplies, Xan took the lead and started to lead them through the forest. The forest started to feel much friendlier as the sun rose into the sky, brightening the sky and chasing away the early morning mist, and by mid-morning, the group soon reached a large tree. It seemed strange at first, but as they got closer they could see that the halfling's home was actually built into the tree: windows inlaid in the sides of the tree, and a staircase of old stone leading up to a heavy wooden door in the 'front' of the house.

“This is amazing!” Skye said as they looked around the structure. “This is where you live?”

Xan nodded, “Yeah, this is it.” He said, smiling back at the group a little. “My parents built this decades ago after the war with the Dark Forces ended. I'm not sure how they did it honestly, cause the tree is still alive, changes with the seasons and everything.”

Vanya looked around, slowly nodding her head as if in approval. “Very impressive, I must say.”

Skye watched the sulefi curiously, “Your parents were involved in the Na'Daar war? That was over thirty years ago, how did they survive? Why did they decide to move out here?”

Xan rubbed his head, “Uhm...to be honest, I don't know all of the details. The liked to tell me stories when I was young, but I don't know how much of it was accurate. They did tell me that they were part of a revolt against their masters, defeating them and forming a resistance group that ended up defending an outpost for months until the war's end. After that, they wanted to live someplace quiet. I don't remember who actually helped build our home, but when I was little I just kind of assumed they did it all themselves.”

“It is really amazing.” Skye said as they walked up next to him, looking over the tree home. “There wouldn't be any trouble with you leaving?”

The sulefi went quiet for a moment, “Actually, I...live alone now actually. They passed some years back.”

They twitched and looked down, “O-oh, I see. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay.” Xan said, giving them that reassuring smile. “Honestly, that's one reason why I've thought about leaving on my own and travel. It's just...something always stopped me.” His thoughts lingered back to the dream for a moment, “But now...helping you guys out seems like good enough reason as any.” He walked up to the door and pushed it open, “You're welcome to come inside, I shouldn't be long, just need to grab my gear and whatever supplies I can scrounge up.”

“Kind of ya, lad.” Heldric said, “But we wouldn' want to intrude. Best make haste.”

Xan nodded and hurried inside. He wanted to be quick, but there was no denying that he was actually feeling scared now. This was it, he was really planning on leaving and the reality was starting to sink in. It was terrifying, but he had to reassure himself that this was what he wanted to do. Maybe even needed to do. He went through his stores and gathered up whatever supplies felt he could use before heading upstairs to his room and collected his equipment. When he was certain that he had everything he needed, he finally stepped back outside. The group was patiently waiting and they turned, seemingly surprised to see the young sulefi now dressed in a set of scale mail and a polished halberd in his hand.

“Oh wow.” Skye said, “You...really look like a proper adventurer now.”

“Aye.” Heldric said, a slight chuckle in his voice. “I musta admit, didn't think ye'd be quite this well prepared, eh?” He smirked and looked over to Gareth; who must have had similar thoughts.

Xan looked a little embarrassed, but he let out a small laugh. “Thank you? The armor and halberd belonged to my parents.” He said, taking time to close everything up; locking the doors and shuttering the windows. “They must have been concerned about me after what happened to them, so they took the time to train me while I was growing up. I've only ever needed to really fight on rare occasions, but...they've come in handy.”

The dwarf laughed, “Aye! Well, hope ye didn' go rusty, ma boy. Who knows what we might come across next!”

He nodded his head, “I think I'll be okay. I'll try my best.”

“Sounds good!” Heldric nodded before address the others, “Then shall we?”

“Yes, let's get going.” Gareth nodded and turned, starting to head off with the others. Xan started after them, but he hesitated. He turned back to look at his home, taking in the sight for one more moment. “Path lies before me.” He said to himself, “I hope the path will lead me back here.”

The trip turned out to be much more peaceful than the party had expected. There was some tension at first, they all expected to see the slavers coming after them or ready to ambush them on the main road, but the only people they came across was other travelers and caravans. They seemed to be in the clear and the group relaxed enough to enjoy the rest of the journey.

Xan was able to learn more about the others: Gareth was a human who grew up near the capital of Storm Waters before venturing off to join and train with a group that patrolled the forest area known as the Firelight Forest in the east. Heldric was a dwarven cleric who's clan made many trips out from the Snow Iron Mountains to provide humanitarian aid to smaller camps and towns who were working on the construction of the 'Great Tunnel' project. Vanya was a high elf mage from an arcane family living in the city of Syll Shaeras, it was her family that were asked to assist the Razor Wing dragonborn clan that Skye had come from. It was all really fascinating to learn, but Xan had this weird feeling that there was more to this that the three weren't saying, but it may have just been his imagination.

It was late afternoon of the fourth day when the party could finally see the port city of Fire Waters ahead of them. It was the largest settlement that the sulefi had seen: sitting on the coast with hundreds of stone and wooden buildings with the ocean stretching out beyond. There was quite a few wooden docks, many of them with ships of all shapes and sizes docked alongside. A large defensive wall was built on the city's east side facing inland with the only way inside through a wide gate that was standing open, guarded by two towers and several armed guards watching travelers move in and out.

The guards did stop the party, but this was more of a formality and they were allowed to pass through without incident, and Xan got his first look at the large city. “I've never seen a place like this before.” He finally said as they walked through the town proper.

“Aye! It is an impressive place fer sure!” Heldric agreed, though he was giving many of the buildings a critical eye. “Mostly human architecture, but I'm sure they had some dwarven help 'round here!”

The group went straight for an inn called the Fireside Tavern to get lodgings for their time here. Xan could tell there was an immediate sense of relief from the others as they dropped off their gear and got to settle in after such a long time. Xan was getting his own gear put away when he realized that Skye was standing nearby and silently watching him. He looked over to them, “How are you feeling?” He asked.

Skye smiled, “Relieved to be back in civilization after so long...” They said, “It's a little...intimidating though, given what happened last time I was in a town.”

Xan nodded, “I can understand that, but there won't be any surprises like that again. I'll be sure of that.”

“I hope so, but that does sound reassuring.” They smiled, but hesitated, looking like they wanted to say some more. Finally, after Xan had finished stowing his gear, they spoke up again. “Have you ever wondered why they call this place 'Fire Waters'?”

“Actually, I don't think so?” He replied; it seemed strange to be asked that out of the blue. “I never gave it any thought, but now that you bring it up...”

Skye smiled wide at that and walked over to him, taking his hand. “Come on then!” They said, sounding excited, “Let's go up to the roof and watch!”

Xan blinked in confusion, but he followed as they headed for the roof of the inn. The rooftop was setup like a small social area where several others were gathered as well. As Skye lead them over to a free spot at the edge, Xan started to understand; they had a perfect view of the ocean as the sun was starting to set. The sun slowly started to sink in the horizon, and as it neared the water, the ocean's blue color burst into an array of warm colors. A display of reds, oranges and yellows spread out and danced on the rippling waves as the sky above also changed colors, blazing orange and red and softly fading to purple and dark blue of the approaching night. It was as if the whole ocean was on fire.

Skye was quiet, watching the scene before them. “I've always wanted to see this...” They said quietly, “I've been told all about this, but seeing it for myself amazing.” Their gaze dropped a little, “I may never have gotten to see this if it wasn't for you.”

Xan turned to them, watching as the sunset turned their white and blue fur the same blazing colors as the ocean. “I'm happy I was able to help you see this.”

Skye turned to them and smiled back before the two turned back. They were quiet, but Xan was surprised when he felt how close Skye had gotten to him, resting their head on his shoulder. The sulefi smiled and stayed still so he didn't disturb them, watching the fire slowly sink into the ocean. “I don't know if this is the path Fate intended for me...” Xan said to himself, “but I am glad to be on it. And I'll stay on it as long as I can.”

#bahamut writing #a sulefi's tale #xan #skye #gareth #heldric #vanya #fantasy

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hedwigstalons · 4 years

Text

High Expectations - Ch17

This was meant to be a fic about Gordon but as I get further through the timeline the other brothers start waving more and pointing out that they are an important part of this and should be considered too. Alan has been feeling a bit left out and wants some attention.

Thanks to @willow-salix for her amazing editorial skills and ‘quick chats’ that are somehow never very quick.

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen,

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Seventeen

If Gordon’s journey out to Marineville for officer selection had been different to his first visit to the base it was nothing compared to the contrast of the journey home. This time his journey north had needed no furtive sneaking off, no cover stories and no lies. There had still been plenty of butterflies in anticipation of the trials ahead but he had faced those trials with the blessing and support of his family. His father had even travelled to the airport with him rather than entrusting him solely to a driver.

The journey south, however, was accompanied by butterflies an order of magnitude greater.

As he exited Marineville to board the bus back to the airport it was impossible to miss the imposing hire car in the visitors’ parking lot or the even more imposing man stood next to it. So far he had managed to maintain a level of anonymity but as he left the cluster of participants he was acutely aware of the whisperings behind him. He ignored the mutterings and strode over to his father, his head held high, it didn’t matter if they worked out who he was now, he knew he had earned his place on his own merits.

“So Gordon, how did it go?” There was still that look of pre-emptive sternness, as though Jeff was waiting to receive another mediocre report card.

Gordon couldn’t stop the grin that flashed across his face or the air of cocky smugness, he was riding the wave of success again and it felt good. “Aced it. The standard was a lot higher and only about a third of us got through but when the next intake comes around you are looking at the newest recruit to WASP.”

The sternness dropped away and was replaced by the look of pride Gordon had seen directed at his brothers far more than himself. “Good, son. You can tell me about it on the journey home.”

As they headed away from the base Gordon recounted the tests and challenges he had faced. For Jeff it was like having a much younger Gordon back, the one who had regaled him with tales of race wins and given blow by blow accounts of dives, turns and sprint finishes. His fourth son spoke freely and animatedly in a way he hadn’t heard for years and Jeff realised just how much of his sons’ lives, all of them, he had missed out on by burying himself in his work and leaving the boys to fend for themselves. He was trying to be more involved again, to listen to them, but his sons had gotten used to existing without him around. All too often he’d come in to hear Gordon ending a call to one of the others, usually Virgil, or arrive home just as Alan was finishing telling Gordon about his day. He rarely got to hear their news now and was almost never the first to be told; it didn’t make it any easier knowing this was a situation of his own making.

Jeff drove them, not to the main Marineville airport, but to a much smaller private air strip just out of town. As they turned off the route being followed by the shuttle bus Gordon kicked himself for not realising sooner that they wouldn’t be on the regular flight. Of course they wouldn’t, his father hadn’t taken a scheduled flight in years.

As they entered the cockpit of the jet Jeff slipped into the co-pilot’s position leaving the main pilot’s seat for Gordon. It had been an intensive few months going from minimal experience at the controls through to being able to take charge of the family jet. His swimming training had always prevented him from experiencing this part of the family education before but now his time in the skies had him thrown in at the metaphorical deep end in the race to get qualified before starting WASP training. Scott of course had gained his private licence on his seventeenth birthday, desperate to achieve official recognition at the earliest possible moment, and Virgil and John hadn’t been much older than the official minimum themselves. Gordon’s dedication had been tested as he crammed in what the others had spent years learning gradually.

This was where the butterflies came in.

He still wasn’t yet able to fly unaccompanied but he was getting closer. Today though it seemed he was to be tested to a whole new level. A two hour flight down the coast, taking off from an unfamiliar runway, was a jump up from the short flights he had taken until now. To make that leap while utterly exhausted following a gruelling three day selection course was perhaps a step too far.

He looked to his father for confirmation that this really was what was expected of him and received only a silent nod in return but if there was one element of being a Tracy that Gordon had truly mastered it was not backing down from a challenge. He pushed the tiredness away, buried the self-doubt with it, and with Jeff next to him scrutinising his every move he requested permission from the tower and taxied out onto the runway.

Jeff stayed silent as Gordon completed the maneuver. He watched the precise and controlled movements his son made, finding little to pick fault with despite watching with a highly critical eye. He knew Gordon must be desperate for his bed, the dark bags under his eyes a testament to what his body had been subjected to, but he needed to be sure his son would be capable of rising to a challenge. Now that he knew Gordon had been accepted into WASP and would receive rigorous training on all manner of submersibles his son changed status from dependent child to potential rescue operative.

He had already started considering the possibilities of expanding the scope of his organisation to include water rescues, indeed he already had the first concept sketches for a submarine, but for that to become a reality he needed an aquanaut. Being accepted into WASP was a start but until Gordon held both his pilot's licenses, for both up in the sky and under the waves, Jeff wasn’t yet ready to consider his fourth son as a full part of his vision and so for now he was content to watch, and wait, and plan, leaving Gordon ignorant of his ideas.

xoxoxox

Barely a week after the selection course the letter arrived confirming what Gordon had already been told at the end of the trials, that he would be joining the next officer training intake. Even though the contents of the letter were no surprise it was still reassuring to see it in black and white, indisputable proof that WASP had confidence in him and that his future path was set.

“So, when do you start?” Jeff asked across the dinner table.

“Huh?” Gordon snapped his head up in surprise, he had been oblivious to the room around him as he read the letter through several times, drinking in the validation it gave him while butterflies fluttered in his stomach at the prospect of actually going off and doing it. “Oh, um, beginning of July, then it’s…”

He didn’t get any further. The scrape of chair and the clatter of discarded cutlery cut him off as Alan flew from the room and disappeared down the hallway, the slam of a bedroom door confirming where he had gone to ground. Jeff sighed and half rose from the table, his expression showing anger at the rudeness of the departed teen, but Gordon waved him down.

“No, I’ll deal with this.”

Gordon had been sensing the impending storm ever since he got back from Marineville. Amongst the congratulations of the family one voice had been noticeably absent and it seemed that the official confirmation letter was all that had been needed to bring it to a head. The last thing he needed was for their father to make a difficult situation worse by laying down the law.

Alan’s room was the typical teenage mess. Clothes lay discarded on the floor and various electronics were piled on surfaces next to empty water glasses but in amongst all the mess it was clear where his passions lay. It was like wandering into an untidier version of John’s room. Star maps adorned the walls and there was a model rocket that Gordon had every confidence could make it into space if that was how Alan had designed it. The difference between this room and the usually unoccupied one next door, apart from the mess, were the newspaper cuttings, article print outs and piles of Olympic memorabilia that vied for space with the astronomical paraphernalia. Dotted around the room was evidence of a devotion to Gordon and the swimmer was sure you could piece together the story of his sporting career if only you took the time to collate the collection.

“Alan…”

“Leave me alone, it’s what you’re going to do anyway.” The voice was muffled, smothered by the pillow in which Alan was buried face down.

“Alan, please, talk to me.” Gordon picked his way carefully across the room and sat on the edge of the bed next to the sprawled figure. The only answer he got was a choked sob and he felt a wave of guilt at the upset his brother was feeling.

“I hate it here. I hate it. I hate it.” Alan sat up and glared at his brother, there was venom in the voice as anger crept in around the upset. “Everyone gets to leave and I’m going to be stuck here on my own. Maybe Virgil will add me to his pity list and call me cos you sure as hell won’t have the time. I don’t want to be his next pet project and charity case though.”

Alan’s words cut deep, as he had intended them to, and Gordon found himself wondering if that was all he’d been to Virgil, a project to feed Virgil’s desire to help people. Surely not? The friendship and growing bond between them felt real enough but the familiar doubts began to creep in about his self worth. He tried to shake them off, knowing the dark places such thoughts could lead him to.

“That’s if Virg can even make time for me in his busy schedule once he goes off to Tracy College. Why the hell does he need to get space rated anyway? He’s never shown any interest in being an astronaut before. Fine, John’s pretty much had his name down for the space programme since birth but why does Virgil get to go too?”

So that explained the animosity towards Virgil, Alan was harbouring a deep jealousy that he was getting to do something that was Alan’s own dream. The youngest Tracy had always made it clear that he would be the third of that name to head into space after his father and middle brother and yet here was Virgil taking his spot, seemingly on a whim. This, coupled with the growing bond between Gordon and Virgil, had evidently ignited a burning resentment.

A shuddering breath wracked the Alan’s body as the primary reason for his upset flooded back into his mind. “I..I don’t want you to go.”

Whatever the issues were with Virgil, Gordon couldn’t shy away from the fact that he had been slowly drifting away from Alan to set up a new life. He had been Alan’s primary source of company for so long, had been a confidante and carer to the younger boy, and now he was heading off leaving Alan facing a future of loneliness. Their father was trying to be more involved but he was still a virtual stranger in Alan’s life and had a lot to learn about parenting teenagers.

He wanted to let Alan know that it would all be ok. Wanted to tell him that soon enough he would be out of this hateful city and in a place where their father and at least some of his brothers would be around a lot more. He wanted to tell him about the rockets and the space station and everything that he knew would ignite his little brother’s passion. But he couldn’t. Even if their father hadn’t expressly forbidden it there was still a fundamental issue in that the island wasn’t actually theirs yet and until the deeds were signed and move confirmed he just couldn’t plant the seeds of the dream in Alan’s mind if there was any chance of the dream crashing down. Instead he had to make do with platitudes that must have felt empty to the devastated teen.

“It’ll be ok, you’ll see.”

“Will it?” The words were spat at him.

“It will; trust me on this. I’m not going anywhere for a little while yet and I’ll still be able to call, I’m going to be at Marineville not Mars. Those first 6 month of training will be pretty intense but I’ll still get some time off.”

“And what about after that? What about when you aren’t at Marineville but you’re getting sent all over the place like Scott does? You won’t be able to just pick up the phone or head back for a weekend if you’re under water on the other side of the world. You may as well be on Mars then.”

Gordon slung an arm around his younger sibling, drawing that smaller form into a hug. He half expected Alan to pull away but he took it as a good sign that the anger was burning out when Alan acquiesced and leaned in heavily against him.

Alan felt like his whole world was dropping away. Of course he had known this moment would come but the arrival of the letter had just hammered home the inevitability of the situation. He felt angry at Gordon, angry at their father and more than a little angry at himself. He was fifteen for goodness sake, he shouldn’t be needing hugs from his big brother, but he still didn’t pull away from that warm hold. There was something comforting about those strong arms, honed through years of hard exercise, that made him feel safe and with that feeling of safety came the assurance of familial love. He clung to it, knowing that all too soon his last brother would be leaving just like the others had; his big family had run out, he was the last and he would be alone.

Of course he had been alone before, Gordon had been away enough times at competitions that he was capable of fending for himself but this time was different. This wasn’t just a few days with the excitement of following the swimming results to keep him occupied, this was a whole new future and he was facing the prospect of being alone with the father who seemed barely aware of his existence. The next few years stretched bleakly ahead of him leaving a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“None of us know what the future holds but even when I’m not here you aren’t going to be on your own. You’ve got four big brothers and we all care about you, you will always be able to get hold of one of us. I need to do this though, Al. If it wasn’t Marineville it would have been college somewhere and it won’t be much longer before you’re choosing what you want to do with your future too.”

There was a damp sniff. “Gonna miss you.” The admission was a quiet whisper but it stabbed deeply into Gordon’s heart.

“Gonna miss you too, Sprout”

They sat there a while longer, each lost to their silent thoughts but still needing that physical contact. Gordon sincerely hoped it would be okay. He’d been so focussed on his own future and excited about the prospect of a fresh start and fresh challenges that he hadn’t fully considered what he would be leaving behind, or rather who he would be leaving behind. He had been looking out for Alan for nearly five years and now he would be leaving. Alan’s whole life had been punctuated by loss as first his mother, and then the brothers who had stepped up in her place, disappeared one by one. Now he would be adding another loss to the pile leaving Alan behind with just the father who had been far too distant for far too long.

#High Expectations #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #military selection #abandonment #loss #loneliness

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