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cellsshapedlikestars · 3 years ago

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So Jon and Sansa both see a crime being commited and become prime witnesses to arrest this big crime mastermind (Petyr? Or maybe Tywin?) and they have to go to witness protection... Only witness protection makes them pretend to be a married couple when they actually don't know each other. Does that sparkle something in that brilliant brain of yours as a prompt?

Look I'm in a Mood™ today and wrote this in a weird fugue state so don't @ meeeeee. I also like barely edited this so who knows if it makes sense, and grammar? I barely know her.

Also, I don’t really know how to do trigger warning tags, so this is my warning that there are vague mentions of blood/gore/violence.

Sometimes when she wakes up, she forgets.

But then she looks around the room that isn't her room and she has to tell herself that it is. This is her room. This is her home. That is her husband downstairs making breakfast.

(And sometimes she wakes up unable to breathe, the dreams are so real; the blood and brains and pieces of skull spraying the wall in front of her, the sounds of men pleading for their lives. The strong arm wrapped around her, one hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming, the only thing that kept her still and quiet and hidden under the desk, the only reason she's alive. He's downstairs making breakfast.)

….

If there was ever a place to get lost, she thinks, it's here.

She stares out the window of her house, the same as every other house on the street. Row after row of identical houses. Neighborhoods of them, the suburbs stretching on forever. They've been here for two months and she doesn't even know her neighbor's names. The one across the street is Edmond, she thinks. Maybe. Edmure? No, if it were Edmure, she would remember, because of-

(But Alayne Stone doesn't have an Uncle Edmure.)

“I'm headed out.”

She turns to look at her husband.

“Have a good day,” she calls, just like she does every day. She watches him walk out to their nondescript grey sedan, just like he does every day. He backs it out of the driveway, then drives west, towards the main road.

…

They don't talk about before.

He is Aemon Stone. They met in college, in a geography course that they both almost failed, and they fell in love. They just got married and moved here - not that any of their neighbors have asked, so she's only had to tell that story to her new coworkers at the craft store.

They're trying to start a family.

(Jon, she thinks his name is, she remembers the agents calling him that, before they were handed folders with their new lives inside. But Jon is not her husband. Aemon is.)

…

Sometimes she likes to think she's a hero, giving up her whole world just to take down the bad guy. She's a hero, a martyr, the protagonist of her own daydreams. Her actions will save the lives of countless others.

(The reality is that she had no choice. They gave her one, technically, she doesn't have to testify against Petyr Baelish, but they all knew there was no choice. If she stayed, he would've found her. He would have killed her and anyone she could have possibly told about what she saw. She knows Aemon had no choice, either, and sometimes she wonders what he gave up. But they don't talk about before.)

…

She tries not to let her mind wander too much, but it's hard not to. Her life is routine. Mundane. She makes friends with her coworkers but she can't – she won't– let them get too close.

The problem with all her free, mundane time is that it gives her space to think – gives her time to regret.

She remembers that weekend, remembers thinking what harm could it do? Remembers thinking the bachelorette party sounded so fun. Remembers taking cash out to play the slot machines, ordering drink after drink until she felt numb.

It all goes a bit fuzzy after that. No matter how hard she tries, she can never remember how she got into the back halls of the casino, to the places where guests aren't allowed. She remembers a strange man kissing her, large, with scarring across his face, who told her that a pretty bird like her shouldn't be back here and demanded a kiss as payment. She remembers running, running, running.

If only she hadn't run.

If she hadn't run, she wouldn't have found herself in that room. She wouldn't have heard the door opening, turned around to see him, watched his face twist in horror when he saw her. He wouldn't have had to tell her get down, hide.

She remembers not being able to move, frozen to the spot at the sight of the gun at his hip. She remembers the way he'd pulled her down under the desk, one arm around her waist to keep her still, one hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, just in time, just before the door opened again.

(And she remembers the men who came in right after, the gruff where the fuck did Rivers get to?)

…

She's seen the tattoo.

(She doesn't think she was supposed to. Aemon Stone shouldn't have a tattoo.)

They try not to get in each other's way – he works days, she works closings. She sleeps in the master bed, he sleeps in a guest room down the hall. He wakes up early and makes breakfast and leaves her a plate. She eats while he goes for a run. But every once in a while...

That day he'd been coming back from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. She's never upstairs when he takes a shower, but she had gotten the urge to read, for the first time in months, and had gone up to grab one of the books that came with the house when she ran into him in the hall.

And there, on his chest, right above his heart, the mockingbird tattoo.

(Aemon Stone is her husband. He is not one of them.)

(But Jon Snow was.)

…

She probably should be scared, but she can never find it in her to be. Their handlers wouldn't have put them in the same house if they thought he'd hurt her.

(He's the reason she's alive. His arm around her waist, his hand over her mouth. Get down. Hide.)

…

Sometimes she wants to ask – why?

Why did he hide her?

Why is he here?

He was one of them, there's a tattoo on his chest that proves it.

Why did he save her? Give up everything for her to live?

…

She slips, once.

She's at work, in the break room, heating up a mug of soup in their tiny, low watt microwave. The break room TV is on, the news is playing, and then he's there.

Petyr Baelish, donating a giant check to an orphanage. Everyone's clapping and cheering him on and all she can hear are the screams of two men, pleading for their lives. Begging Petyr Baelish to stop. (They had wives and children and their screams echo in her head and-)

“Alayne?” her coworker, Myranda, shakes her arm. “I think your food's done?”

She's shaking so hard that the soup sloshes over the side of her mug and she apologizes as she cleans it up and Myranda asks if she's sick or something. She has to go home early because she vomits into the break room trash can.

At home, Aemon is watching football on TV and he's surprised when she comes home early. All he says is, “everything ok?” and she knows what he's asking.

“Everything's ok,” she tells him and he nods and she goes upstairs.

They don't talk about the past, but they don't talk about the present, either.

(And they definitely don't talk about the future.)

…

There's one time she doesn't wake up confused or breathless.

She wakes up screaming.

In her dream, he finds her. In her dream, Petyr Baelish walks around the desk and bends down and reaches under and pulls her out. In her dream, he tortures her like he did those men. In her dream, he puts a gun to her head, just like he did-

She wakes up screaming.

The door to her room slams open and she takes a gasping breath and looks up at her husband, standing in the doorway with a baseball bat in his hand. His hair is wild and his eyes are wide as they search her room and she tries to tell him it's all in her head but she can't make her voice work. When she tries, the words just come out as a small sob and she watches his tensed shoulders relax and he sets down the baseball bat.

She curls into herself and cries into her bent knees – for her dreams and her fears and the knowledge that this might never end. It's a choking, clawing abyss in her chest that's been growing as the days and weeks and months slide by – that she will never see her family again. She'll never eat mom's cooking or hear her dad yell at the TV when his team loses or see Robb's infectious smile or argue with Arya or talk about philosophy with Bran or watch one of Rickon's basketball games. She'll never get to play with Lady again.

She has kept them locked away inside her, tried to forget about them because Alayne Stone doesn't have a family.

The bed dips and she lets out another gasping sob as she feels an arm settle around her shoulders. “Alayne,” he says, and then again. Again and again, until - “Sansa.”

“I'm not Sansa,” she whispers when she finally looks up.

“Sometimes you need to be,” he says, his voice is steady and he brings one hand up to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. “It's hard, not everyone can just change who they are. Especially not like this.”

“You say that like you're some expert,” she sniffs, wiping at her cheeks now that her tears have slowed. She feels like a mess – her eyes feel hot and puffy, her nose feels raw, her throat is sore, but she also feels more human than she has in months.

He hesitates, seems to think hard about something before - “Aemon Stone isn't the first person I've had to become.” She jerks back a bit, but she doesn't pull away.

(He saved her life.)

“Who else?”

“Before this, I was Aegon Rivers.”

“I thought your name was Jon Snow? That's what they called you.”

“Jon Snow,” he says, voice low and soothing and she feels herself relax, settles into the warmth of his arms a bit more, “is a federal agent who went undercover with the Mockingbirds two years ago.”

She looks at him, then – really looks at him. At his grey eyes and his long face and his black hair wild from sleep, at the scar that runs through his eyebrow and the dark stubble that he meticulously shaves off every morning.

“Jon Snow fits you better,” she tells him.

“And Sansa Stark fits you.”

“I'm not Sansa Stark anymore,” she reminds him again, feeling her voice waver, though she thought she was past it. “This was just a bad dream, I promise I'll do better.”

“Like I said, sometimes it's hard,” he tells her. “And sometimes it's easy to forget who you are.”

“Is it for you?” she asks. He doesn't answer, but she thinks he doesn't need to, she can see it in him and she wonders how much of Jon Snow he remembers. Two years is a long time to be someone else. “I don't...” her voice breaks and she has to drop into a whisper. “I don't want to forget them. I know I have to-”

“What if,” he cuts in when her words fail her completely, “what if we're Jon Snow and Sansa Stark here?”

“They told us we-”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I don't mean... not in the house. Not during the day. But how about, once a week, at night, when it's just us, when the rest of the world is sleeping – I'll come in here and just for an hour, we can remember.”

The words make her ache and she nods and looks over at her clock. One hour – one hour to remember who she is and where she comes from. One hour to talk about anything and everything – about the past and the present and the future. It's not a lot and it's a risk and against the rules, but-

“Yes. Please.”

He nods and looks a bit grim and she wonders, once again – why? She doesn't think he wants to talk about Jon Snow. He's doing it for her – he's saving her life again and she still doesn't know why. Maybe she'll find out, some day.

“Ok,” he breathes, like he's jumping off the deep end, “Sansa Stark – what's your favorite color?”

#jonsa #prompt fic #also once again i cannot keep these under 2k words #mentions of violence and blood

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samnyangie · 4 years ago

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Personal reviews on RSL filmography

Rsl, iI thought it’d be a good idea to record my thought on each films rsl was in, it was something I always wanted to do...

Rsl in total, was starred in (excluding tv series etc) 27-ish films, to be honest, considering his years as an actor(approximately more than 30 years) he wasn’t starred in that many. We all know why lol

Just saying I’m not a film expert, therefore the list is very subjective.

The reviews with trigger warning (r*pe, g*re etc): Tape, Killer: Journal of Murder, A glimpse of hell. Tho in the writing I’ve censored them with * since I don’t feel comfortable saying them here

There isn’t particular spoilers except for dps, tape, and ground control

The favourites (literally my life time films)

Dead Poets Society

I assume many would agree, and as many would have, it was my first ever rsl film, like I was on the plane and it was one of the films they offered, and I was like, oh I think i heard of this, so I watched and instantly loved it. The message is very relevant to this day, the cinematography is very beautiful and somehow nostalgic. I was horrified with Neil’s death. Tbh now I’ve seen too many memes and all kind of things from the fandom (which I’m grateful for!) I thought the heartfelt I once had would deluded a bit, however when I watched it again last April with my family at the cinema and it still moved me very deeply.

The age of Innocence

Okay, unpopular opinion here, I love this so much. It’s my all time favourite rsl film. It even outruns dps tiny winy bit haha. Aside from how he had tiny winy screen time, appearing at the end but the fact that he played quite an important role and him being gorgeous in it just<33 I couldn’t help but smiling! It just the whole film was so much of my cup of tea? The melodrama and the hypocrisy hidden by elegance among the upper social classes in 19th century is just what I needed. The more I watch it, the more I understand the characters and their emotions, it’s one of those films you should keep visit to discover the things you weren’t aware of before. I watched it again this morning and i couldn’t stop thinking about it. However, I know some people find it boring and I understand why, my sister is one of them lol(except for a bit where rsl was in) but i think it’s more complex than what it appears to be at a first glance haha. In conclusion, it became one of my comfort film to watch time to time.

The ones I like<33

Swing kids

At first viewing, I didn’t expected much because it had underwhelming reviews but when I actually saw it, I thought it was quite decent and more and more I watched it, I felt like it was underrated. Yes, I think some directing choices were bit old fashioned and cheesy especially the ending, I’m not saying it was a perfect masterpiece but it deserves more recognition than it has now. Also in spite that there’re some parts being too simplified, it touched on something other films about ww2 normally don’t. It was interesting to see the German perspective on it than Jewish or the allies perspective like many of them does, but of course the latter perspectives matter, it could be argued that they more valid than the former, which partly was where sk criticised for, however, the portrayal of the varied reactions of the German people (in this one particular the teenagers) has its value in their on way. Anyway along side with it, the music and the dance scenes were great, without exaggeration, though Swing kids isn’t my fav, peter’s solo dance scene is my favourite scene in any movies I’ve ever watched. I mean that scene had both visuals and meaning as it demonstrated Peter’s determination as well as resentment with a hitch of unsureness. Rsl acting in that scene was just phenomenal, it’s not about showing off the dancing skills but he portrayed every mixed emotions peter has from his expression and the moves, I just can’t talk about this enough especially this scene was the reason I started fallen for him. lol

Much ado about nothing

Much ado is something I never seen anything like so it was a refreshing exprience. I barely watched Shakespeare on screen kind of thing. Though I felt there were some bits too cheesy for me but they are also the charms in the same time, and the cinematography was pretty also Claudio aka rsl, it was like an official announcement of declaring my worship on this man. Especially it was after SWING KIDSSSS so I couldn’t help it now everyone knows how I fallen for him but no one can blame meeeeee Anyway, it’s a really good film to watch when you want be relaxed with cup of tea maybe hehe

In the gloaming

I heard about it before I watched it, that it’s a heart wrenching, tearful piece, though I didn’t managed to cry, it’s just.... painful and in a way heartfelt. I liked that story telling was calm and collected rather than forcing you to join the sob party, just showing the characters to carry on. And thanks to the great acting from the cast, the characters could be emphasised and understood, personally the older sister was the most relatable character for me, well, eldest complex lol. In short I liked it but it’s not something I would watch it often.

Last days of Disco

As a person who looks at aesthetic in films, I simply enjoyed this for that tbh. I don’t know, I just liked the feeling. But I don’t think it’d be everyone’s cup of tea. I love the day time clothes the girls wore in the film. Tbh I love the music too, I think I love all the films of rsl with music in it. Speaking about rsl, oh rsl, he’s.... His character might be bit unlikable but he was just.... This is why I can’t unlove his characters even the debatable ones<33

They were decent! (I would recommend it)

Married to it

This is the first and last ever attempt of rsl of romcomssss The film itself is cliche to be frank it’s like love actually but it’s about marriage life + it’s not christmas but I like heartfelt cliche stories like this, if anyone also loves this type of story, it’s really worth watching, it’s one of my comfort films, also, rsl is so pretty I mean he always is but to see him being a office man with a baby face made me go awww my baby grew up heheh I wish he did another romcom like this or more preferably, melodramatic romance, I’d have made a shrine of it and worship it every morning lol

The boys next door

I kind of smiled while watching it throughout, if you want something that is heartfelt and touch on some serious topic about social workers and the people with mental disorder, Rsl plays a character who has (I think it was) Schizophrenia and troubled relationship with his father(Deja vu I know) but general atmosphere tend to be quite humourous. I don’t get me wrong, though it’s light hearted, it doesn’t mean they treat the topic in the same way. There’s a scene where the protagonist imagining the one of the characters with the disorder talking eloquently and honourably at the court on the rights and the dignity of the people with mental disorders deserve to/should have and they’re just the same people as the people without mental disorders. It was a powerful scene.

My two loves

Rsl’s first ever screen debut film! Hehe it’s about a woman who is discovering her sexual identity and the conflicts within I personally thought it was fairly sensible depiction but I can’t say for sure whether it was accurate or else, since I don’t think it’s my place to say it:) But if you’re interested, it’s on YouTube, you can just search for it or go to this post I made. Fun fact: since it was his debut film, it credits him as he’s real name, Robert L. Leonard, I just find it amusing haha

Tape

It’s another type of film I don’t encounter that often, I enjoyed it, especially with Neil and Todd’s reunion lol. Rsl mentioned how he enjoyed it because it felt like doing a play, my first impression was that the structure is like a play, though the camera work made me quite dizzy haha. But the dialogues, the acting, I think it was quite spot on. Especially the human contradictions and hypocrisy side of it. The most people assume the baddie in the film is Jon the character rsl played and has a distaste for him. I mean how can anyone love a character who is accused of r*pe but to be honest, Vincent for me seemed just as problematic, both of them are hypocrites for sure in their own different ways but in the end we can’t be sure what’s really the truth or not. It’s about the vagueness, and phychology and the uncertainty from the audience on who to believe(well, myself included, most would trust on Amy’s claims since she’s the victim in the accusation, but by her denying the claims, making everything way unclear,) so I don’t know. I don’t really have an opinion haha tho I don’t believe nothing happened because Amy denied so, even Umma Thurman who played her, said that her interpretation was that Amy lied. I felt it’s endless rabbit hole this film. Sorry I couldn’t worded it better.

My best friend is a Vampire

It’s cringey and weird but there’re odd charm to it. Vampire rsl’s so cute as well.... and I think it’s the only film, he acted kind of flirty ? So for that itself I’d like to appreciate itttt And it’s so 80s/90s, like it has general odd nostalgia like all films from that age has. I saw a Korean blog about rsl films and this was mentioned, that- they said- it’s a bible of rsl’s adorableness and I think that sum up the film perfectly.

Mr&Mrs Bridge

Before this was in ‘I mean it was fine” category, but I watched it again and now I want to retract my statement lol Still isn’t my fav but I noticed how delicately depicted each characters are, Mr and Mrs Bridge in particular. This film is alternatively about the changes in the young generation regarding liberty, feminism, free expression especially on sex. It’s in the perspective of the bridges, the mother and father who is old fashioned and conservative (as it was normal in their previous generation) and the children who are the young generation, and the misunderstanding and conflicts between them. After all it all happened not only because of the difference but also the lack of communication, which rsl emphasised in his interviews. I found it interesting that they made it seems like the Bridges truly existed with the video footage and (with the ending) describing what happened to each family member in text with photos. When I watched it at first I was really confused if it was based on a real life. I think what they wanted to suggest was that the Bridges every typical American family at the time. It was something everyone was going through. I said previously I didn’t get why Rsl’s character (the youngest in the Bridges) treated his mother so coldly. Honestly I do get why, but I guess I felt so bad so the mother haha

I mean it was fine

The safe passage

It was okay but to be honest it didn’t stood out to me. It was okay. The story, the characters weren’t that interesting. I wish they extended it longer to go depth with their family relationship or something.

A painted house

I find it likeable, it has a chill, old folk story vibe, but same as previous one. it didn’t really stand out except for shirtless rsl, do close ups you cowards

Bluffing it

I was really fond of the premise of this film and I think it has great intention. It was specifically made to promote the awareness of illiteracy and how to get support. However, I don’t get the reason of Jack the protagonist’s illiteracy. Unless, it was common occurrence in America at the time, I feel like it’d have been more convincing if he was in poor family hood, so there was no time to learn at school due to working at young age...? I mean, just finding it hard to believe he passed the high school just like that, I mean the teachers or anyone should have noticed it, maybe I’m missing something here but it seemed unlikely to me.

Ground control

Again, I liked the message, as it depicted how frightening and difficult job the ground controller is, by one mistake could take away the lives of hundreds, especially as someone who goes on planes a lot... But it was quite cliche throughout, I just couldn’t get engaged to it. But I do admit at the end when the protagonist runs off to the landing zone see the pilot who he had just saved, they acknowledged each other and have eye contacts was truly wholesome. Rsl as cocky, bad boy was such a icing on the cake, I loved it so much. Chewing gum in every scene lol I hope he plays these sort of characters more often. I saw someone criticising him saying he has narrow spectrum of just playing nice boy roles like Neil but I really wanted to debunk the narrative and this could be one of the examples!

Chelsea walls

I knew that this has split reviews but nonetheless I think worth to watch it, 1. Ethan and rsl re union, 2. Ethan is the directer of the film and rsl sing in it. But I have to say, it’s one of those hard to follow art indie film so I couldn’t finish it on one go. I feel like I have to devour it over and over again. Maybe later on I grow fond of it more lol But his character, I loved him so much. He’s just has everyone don’t touch me, I’m a cocky artist vibe, there’s a scene where his annoying friend annoying him and he looks up and says: ‘Fck off’. Absolute golddddd not to mention he sings and plays guitar so beautifully<333

Well... it’s not my cup of tea

The Manhattan project

I don’t think the film it self was that bad, it’s about high school boy who find out the existence of some nuclear energy research lab and stole the energy to make his own nuclear bomb. I just don’t get the thinking process of the protagonist. It really frustrated me. He seemed apathetic and unlikable I disliked him throughout and that’s why I didn’t really enjoyed it. I mean it has humour and ridiculous storyline might be humorous to some. But more importantly there was such little screen time for rsl!! LIKE WHY? WHY PEOPLE?? HE LOOKS LIKE A FRESH HUMAN MOCHI!!! It makes me soooo mad to think about it

Killer: Journal of Murder

Well, first of all, it had a lot of graphic things than I imagined, brutally murd*red bodies, execution, and r*pe scene, gosh I was strucken by it when I saw that, I had to skipped that scene. It’s based on a real event and a real criminal called Carl Panzram, so if you’re aware of it, it might be more intriguiging to see. But personally for me... meh, I don’t think directing was good as it failed to portray it enough for me to comprehend fully.

A Glimpse of Hell

This is also based on a true event of a tragic accident in the us battleship in Iowa in 1989. They shows tragedy lin a blunt, brutal way by showing horribly damaged bodies of the soldiers torn into pieces, all the horrid things directly so be warned about that. I was quite alarmed because i didn’t expect to see it haha there’s no much to say. The film quality was so so for me. I feel their approach wasn’t appropriate, they were clearly trying to make it dramatic which is fine but in a melodramatic emotional way. It didn’t work because first, there aren’t enough portrayal of the characters for me to get attached, secondly it added the unnecessary exaggeration it prevented me from being emotionally involved or even to think about it. In my opinion, I think it’d have been better if they made it more restrained, dry, focus on the accuracy. For example like 1987 or Zodiac, I mean both of them has dramatic elements since they’re not a documentary but they were not overdone, in a contrary added emphasis to their message/conclusion. I know it’s easier said than done but it was something I consistently felt during it.

Sir.... I’m sorry but-

Standoff

Haha... it’s very peculiar... the directing is off and it just weird. I knew it was bad already but I watched it because rsl as a cop with gunssssssss just... so rare and just.... something else. There’s no way of me missing that seriously. Tbh him doing an action stunt isn’t what I imagine when it comes to him and there’s really any actions scenes anyway but it really was something. Like the character he played here really became my soft spot Hehehehe he was pretty and plus, tbh it’s kind of film I’d make fun of while watching so everything was (alomst) forgivable. There is a recent thing I think about, since this is about a cult, I kind of hope he’d at some day play a role like Eli Sunday from There will be blood: a manipulative, deceitful and maddened priest with twisted faith. Though Paul Dano did a grand job, the idea was in my head the whole time. Well, it’s a shame he wasn’t any of those here lol

Driven

From what I seen, the majority of people seem to unanimously hate this film, and after watching it I became one of those ppl. At least Standoff could be make fun of and rsl held gunssss but this...... I want to say so many things... I feel like they should have chose either fancy, fast paced, thrilling racing film or detailed depiction of emotions/relationships with the racers and people involved in it, I know both can be done, but I think that was outside of their ability, but since they tried to do that at once, it became a mess that doesn’t go either way. And the characters, any of them, including rsl’s are narrow or impossible to understand. I mean rsl did great himself, it was not about acting, the problem lies on the script and editing in my opinion. Also there were so many unnecessary characters made me question of their existence. Luckily rsl’s character isn’t one of them, however because of them, he had to squeeze in and unable to elaborate, which is a shame as he was an interesting character and someone rsl rarely plays; a arrogant and opportunist agent/brother of the protagonist, who would do anything for success... ha.... whyyyyy

This is it. If I watch other stuff I might add to it in the future. Overall, I know I’m biased but I do like His filmography, I do have appreciations in every one of them in different way to the good ones to bad. He may have disagree, but I love his acting on screen, well, I barely seen him on stage (crying)

Edit: as some of you could see, I’ve edited this over and over again haha elaborating on thing or the contrary. I can say with a glimpse of hell I practically managed to watch every rsl films out there lol except for the i inside and the short film he did called a dog race in Alaska. But with the former I’m not interested and already know the storyline, and the latter is just impossible to find, trust me I did my best;;

So to sum up: I HAVE MASTERED THE RSL FILMOGRAPHY!

#robert sean leonard #rsl #films #filmography #personal #thoughts

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yourcutelittlegayfriend · 5 years ago

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Heya Can I please uh Get a sett x vastaya reader Scenario where she comes to his pit to fight because she needs money to help her tribe get rebuilt?

Ok so first of all thanks for the request and sorry for a very very late post and second if you're like referring to rebuilding houses in a tribe you actually can't cuz vastayan people live harmony with nature so that means no cutting trees and you get your needs from nature....... but I'll think of something like a money crisis or something.

Yeah sorry.........again.

•=•=•=•=•=•

SETT X VASTAYAN READER

For many years, your people live in peace. away from the dangers of the outside world but that doesn't mean you were selfish and un-kind, instead they used magic not for fighting but to offer help to other vastayan, they would take refugees, heal them, and take care of other Vastayans that were scarred by the war.

Decades past many happened in Ionia but being seculded in the hidden forest in the land, generations of your tribe have forgotten what's the outside world like and believe that it's only a myth.

Then an unexpecting day came. Since your tribe offers help more and more Vastayans seek their hand for help and that cause a problem.

A big problem.

There was too much population and your home became overcrowded after a new tribe came, said they were attack overnight and barely survived, it was no problem in sharing and rationing your supplies but nature had given too much.

Being the Chief's eldest daughter you volunteered to search outside your hidden home to find a way to help them.

So with a heavy heart your family and people bid you good luck and safe travel.

Days past you discovered many things and places, you found different kinds of Vastayans, good and also bad people.

One day you came to a Forest market you ask many people but some spoke in a strange language while some walked away from you until you meet this cute Vastayan couple named Rakan and Xayah, you were surprised that they can speak (mainly Xayah) using the old Vastayan Language.

From Xayah's stories she is looking for her lost tribe and planned on making a rebellion or something? While Rakan only follow and support his lover.

You told them about your problem and they suggested that you go far towards the main city, you took the suggestion and thank them for their help, bidding them good bye you turned into leave but not before Xayah called you back.

"Hey not being a bother or anything but you said there was a new tribe that came to yours right?, Is there perhaps a man-." She then continued to explain a man who she claim her father and ask if he was in the same tribe, shaking your head you said that you haven't see anyone that look like her father.

"Don't worry Xayah I'm positive they're out there somewhere and you'll find them I believe in you, just don't lose hope ok?". You re-assured her as she thanked you.

"Here Y/N don't forget to hide does ears and tail of yours, they're a dead give away." She held out a dark cloak made from a smooth Ionian silk, after that you waved them goodbye.

"Good luck and don't get yourself killed kid!! See ya, Hey Xayah wait for meeeeee!!!." Rakan shouted before chasing after his beloved.

"You do know I'm quite older than you right?." You asked him well more to yourself before shrugging it off and beginning your journey towards the city in Ionia.

It took a whole day getting there making you arrived at night. you then wore the cloak Xayah gave you and blend in with the crowd, it was similar as back in the Forest market but instead of Vastayan or shape-shifters that was walking around it was full on strange creatures that you believe were humans like the elders told in their stories and unlike back home with of trees and nature instead it was this weird tall structures and no Vastayan in sight.

then your ears hear this wired clinking of metal that you decided to investigate, looking around you found the source and saw a human passing three of those round gold things in exchange for a fruit then you saw another and another.

It was some kind of currency just like yours but a little different.

You then followed a big human man that was carrying a huge sack of those while being vigilant, you then came across a much more big architecture with a lot of suspicious people entering inside.

Moving forward, you see the man you followed giving it towards a round hat wearing man and seeing that some were doing it too.

You perk up along with other people when you hear a feminine voice at the passageway then people run towards the voice being unlucky you got shove in, you tried squeezing your body in the crowd, few tries you finally reach the end but loss you footing, you catch yourself by slamming your hand in a flat wooden furniture.

startled the man and the woman who you believe was yelling looked at you with widen eyes they talked to you in a much more different language, you look at them dumbfounded before shrugging you shoulders.

The woman rolled her eyes before grabbing a hold of your right arm and pulled you, being curious you let her.

Walking deep inside you tried talking to her but she didn't payed you attention, a short walk you were then push towards an opening.

You stumbled before getting blinded by a golden light you raised an arm to cover your face, turning back you looked and see the woman on the tunnel motioning you to walk, looking behind you see a stone platform.

"Huh?." you pipe up looking back at her, you point yourself and then towards the platform.

She nod her head yes then showing you her thumbs pointing upwards before turning around and walked back, you look down at you hands and trying to copy what she did while walking towards the platform.

( ՞ਊ ՞）→ Sett's POV :

Another night with a line people that aren't strong enough to beat me.

"Welp who can say no to money anyway?." I chuckled cracking my knuckles and do small stretching.

I look below on the balcony to see a cloaked figure walking in the middle of the pit, I see their attention in their hands.

You're fighting me and you're already scared?, pathetic.

I scoff before walking back and down towards the pit.

A few seconds later I walked out and face them.

"Hey! you're the first contender?, Guess this will be an easy win." I stare at my clenched fist after wearing my golden brass knuckles.

Smirking I turned my head but to my surprise they we're still busy with the hands.

"Oi!, Are ya' listening to me or you're deaf?." I shouted by now the people were listening to me watching in interest.

I growled, losing my patience I stomp towards them right arm pulled back.

"I said are ya' deaf or stupid?." Reaching them I throw my right straight to there face. before my knuckles can touch there face they simply blocked it with their palm.

They looked up making me see their- I mean her face, she looked at me with her E/C colored eyes before glaring at me, She jumped back looking at her palm then back to me.

"Heh, good to have your attention. Now can you fight?." I punch my hand to my palm smirking, she tilted her head then she move to take off her cloak.

Once the clothing was off my widen when I see a pair of ears on top of her head like mine with a long thick fur tail swishing behind her.

"Vastayan?." I growled "then I guess I'll be lying when I say this won't hurt." I then charge at her.

We both begin to fight I keep punching her but she dodges fast while we were does this she keep talking in a weird ass language I can't understand.

She then growled in annoyance before tackling me with a surprising strength, strandling me she clunch the neckline of my clothes and smash her lips on mine.

I stared with wide eyes at her. the kiss didn't last long she quickly stood up and talk finally in a language I can understand.

"Sorry I had to do that it was the fastest way I can learn you language." She apologize before holding out her hand at me.

"Here let me help you." She said I grab it and she pulled me up without breaking a sweat.

•=•=•=•=•=•

"So your telling me? You came from your invisible home-."

"Hidden actually-."

"To find what exactly?." I asked feeling a tick mark growing in my forehead still feeling a little embarrassed from the kiss earlier.

"Something to help them like finding extra supplies using that." She pointed behind me and I turned my hand and see the money we collected from different bets.

"Ya want Noxian money?." I questioned

"If that's what you call it yes." She said without hesitation.

"Ha! Look girly I ain't a charity work I own that money and I'm not just about to give that to some Vastayan tribe, they can starve for all I care." I puff out my chest laughing at her.

"Fine then I'll do anything you want but in exchange I need a few sack of those what about that?." She growled not liking what I just said about her tribe.

"Hmm, guess I can't let a good deal like that fly away then exchange for maybe 5 of those you have to fight in my pit for a whole month, deal?." I hold out my hand.

"I do not know how long this month you are talking about but sounds delightful to me, sure!." She grab my hand tightly and shook it with great force.

"Ok! Ok! Stop it." I snatch my hand away shaking off some off the pain from her grip.

How is she so strong?!

"Be here tomorrow early in the morning then we'll talk business." I turned around walking away from her, but few steps away I can hear someone following me.

I look over my shoulder and see her behind me.

"Why are you following me?." I asked gritting my teeth.

"Well since we made a deal it's a tradition to follow the dealer for a better end of-". I cut her off.

"You don't have a place to sleep do you?."

"Yes! Can I sleep with you?". She didn't even feel ashamed of herself.

"OH FOR THE LOVE OF-!".

•��•∆•∆•∆•∆•

Sett's a bit OP but...........

Yeah I don't have a good reason

#leauge of legends #lol sett x reader #lol sett #sett #sett x reader #league of legends sett #leauge of legends sett x reader #sett lol #male x reader #x reader #x reader insert #league of legends x reader #x male/fem reader

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yeet-imma-skeet · 5 years ago

Text

The Sky Is In Pieces

(Based in @starr-fall-knight-rise 's unique universe. Part 5 to the story)

(Part 1: https://yeet-imma-skeet.tumblr.com/post/613232997621202944/the-sky-is-falling)

Bzzzzzzzzz...

Pop! Hissssssss...

The air locks hissed into place as the two ships hitched together. The finality in the sound caused some second thoughts to arise, making one to swallow in uncertainty and the other to twitch her tail for the same reasons. Curious, because of their constant exchanges over video call they had gotten used to the other's existence but here they were. Nervous as all hell.

Then she smelt it.

As soon as the doors peeled open, she fought to withhold an unexpected growl. Her throat tightened as the unmistakable scent of fresh meat washed over her like a cold splash of water to a sunbathed face. Unlike the last few cycles, she was now acutely aware of her hunger. She bit onto her tongue, blocking the scent receptors. Hopefully she could hide it before they noticed anything off.

Too late.

The one she knows as Captain Silva tilted his head, "Is something wrong?"

The flying orb of data did a once over around her form before hovering between them, "Nothing is appearing to be a problem. Voice your concerns, caldat?"

Oh Matradais above, she could practically TASTE it.

She stumbled back, holding her hands around her hidden maw, keeping it shut. The pleading look in her eye seemed to scream when her stomach sharply twisted a knife into itself.

Without a second the humans recognized a starving creature when they saw one.

Silva roared over his shoulder, "SOMEONE BRING SOME FOOD ASAP!"

A gray drev at the entrance reared back in surprise as the humans scrambled for anything edible. Pockets were overturned and boxes were thrown until one human triumphantly held a fried chicken drumstick in the air. Ah, how he held it like a gift from the heavens. It nearly made the others bow down to its golden radiance. Did they hear a choir?

"Did you just pull KFC out of your pocket?"

"Emergency snack, sir. Since it is one it wor—WAHG!"

The tall man fell back as a blur of white tackled him. As soon as she snatched the "emergency snack", she darted onto a nearby stack of crates as she snarfed down. The crunch of bone made the humans wince and the drev scuttle back in shock. They had never seen their humans do such things to their meals. Compared to the hunched over being above them, they were much quieter... most of the time.

"Oh my god, her mouth is under her chin!"

"H—What?"

"Look!"

"Her face flipped up!"

"That’s metal as fuck."

Galia ignored their open stares and whispers as she kept munching, appreciating the juicy flavor of the new meat. The strange crunchy covering on it matched rather well with it. Licking the last remnants off her claws, she made her way down the stack, hiding her embarrassment at the uncouth first meeting.

"I’m sorry," She murmured, "I didn’t expect the smell of food to smack me across the face."

The orb translated between them, wondering about her strange choice of words before a revving sounded from the humans. It lowered it forming guard as the telltale sign of amused humans secured their safety. Then again, humans actions were rather contradictory according to its new data.

"We would probably do the same if we were you." Silva smiled.

Galia held out a hand to shake, using their weird greeting she learned, "Welcome onto my dolmier, Captain Silva."

He accepted it, watching for claws despite himself, "Thank you for taking us, Galia."

——————————

The first thing the crew of the UNSC Esperanca noticed was the sheer size of the ridiculously white ship. The halls were much taller and wider with strangely no corners to speak of like organized tunnels. The "doors" were basically sliding hobbit doors, just circles for entrances. The only places that straight lines existed was within the hexagonal rooms of the ship. It reminded many humans of beehives and ant tunnels. It was a welcome change compared to their cramped brick. Especially to those who managed to smuggl—procure skateboards onto the ship.

"YAHOOOOOO!"

The head medic gazing down at her tablet stepped aside as a group of skaters wheeled past her. The breeze they caused tossed her tied ginger locks. Tossing her hair back, she finally looked up from the data, sighing to herself. A clear window in the corridor caught her eye, making her pause in silent awe for the fourth time that day. The surprising reason why the alien ship had been so huge was because of the gigantic bio-dome in the heart of it.

Towering pillars of rock grew from the ground alongside multicolored trees that could compete with redwoods. A rainbow of vines draped over and under them, the stems as thick as a regular tree. The kaleidoscope of color nearly gave one a headache if it wasn’t for the rest of the bio-dome. Cream and gray savanna grasses covered most of the ground as the tall jungle only took a third of the dome. A visible rundown path winded between the biomes which led to last surprising addition to the nature. Clear yet blue water sloshed around as a lake-sized pool sat beside them. Apparently it was a hundred meters deep and had underwater caves under the land. When she saw a map of it, the maze of tunnels shook her to the core. The effort and engineering that went into the nature seemed so intricate yet it worked so well together.

She laid a hand onto the glass, feeling the warmth of the room on the other side. If they could bring this aboard other ships, who knows what kind of benefits it could have for space travel? Crew would have more morale and wouldn’t be so homesick. The fact that she had to help wrestle most of the crew away from entering the bio-dome proved the fact that nature was a must, even if it was alien. She stared back at her tablet, looking over the data of the plants inside once again. Until she knew it was safe, there was no way that she could let the crew go in or herself for that matter. That lake seemed to call for her to take a dip. Swim in meeeeee...

She shook her head, reluctantly leaving the view. Looking back to her tablet, her resolve to finish scanning the data grew only stronger. She’ll be damned if she didn’t take a dip by the end of the day. Mark her words.

——————————

Screeeeeeech! Crash! Thunk!

A voice groaned, “Ow...”

“Ow, indeed.”

The sprawled form of a marine blearily squinted up to see the upsidedown face of the white alien. He tilted his head. Scratch that. She was right side up. With another groan, he tumbled over his own head as the amused alien stepped away from his flop. Thinking back to her comment, he thought it weird to hear a gruff woman’s voice from his translator chip. How technology easily grows.

She rubbed her ear things—arials they were called, “Are you humans always loud?”

“Not usually, but then again,” He grunted as he sat up, “It depends on the human.”

“...I’ve been hearing that a lot. It’s much harder to tell what each of you would do without any visible differences, though.”

He surreptitiously watched her tail flick back and forth in thought until she reached out a hand.

Accepting it, he asked, “Visible differences?”

“Body language. Usually we watch changes in tails and arials. With you, it’s the face. And hands. And feet. Many things now that I think about it.”

“Ha ha! Good luck with that.”

She nodded towards a runaway skateboard, “And good luck with that too.”

“SHIT MY SKATEBOARD!”

He dashed for it, screaming at it to come back.

Galia winced, the man’s voice ringing across her arials. Ever since the humans came aboard, they had brought delectable food, yes, but had also provided to be impressively noisy. Their words carried through the halls while their movements were almost obnoxious and as much as she admired the drev, they were worse. After walking into their makeshift armory, she immediately cringed away at the metallic screeching and pounding hammers. Her head rang for hours even after hiding away in the treetops of the bio-dome.

A feeling of uncertainty krept into her mind. Having yourself nearly deafened everyday could make one doubt every sound they hear. The fact did not comfort her as she had a job to do. She had to protect the Royals at any cost...

(Part 6: https://yeet-imma-skeet.tumblr.com/post/620559516121137152/great-theres-sky-everywhere)

#alien #fantasy #scifi #original species #humans are space orcs #farrisan #humans are space australians #starr fall knight rise #short fiction #fiction #original story #story

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nonie-star · 4 years ago

Text

The dreaded Hufflepuff get together

A small story about Nonie dragging Merula to her friends new years get together.

Big thanks to @debhakemiillustrations for letting me include her MC Debbie, it’s always fun to put her and Nonie them into situations together.

Happy new year everyone!

It was a tradition that had started in their third year of Hogwarts, when they had all stayed behind at the castle over winter break.

“Do we really have to go to that stupid new years get together?” Merula groaned.

Nonie and her were getting ready to head to Rowan and Barnaby’s house for new year’s. The Hufflepuff girls were spending the night together like they had every year in the last ten years.

And as always, Merula was invited as well.

“Don’t mope. It’s one night of the year.” Nonie said, trying to tie her hair up into a bun that looked at least half-decent. “And we have this talk every year. You always complain, but then you end up enjoying yourself.”

Of course, Merula denied that. She would never have fun at their silly gatherings. Then she looked at her girlfriend again, that was still struggling with her hair. “Urgh I can’t watch this. Let me…”

She did it for her. “There. You really are like a child sometimes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And then, while starting to put on Make-up, she complained again, asking why she even needed to go in the first place. She wasn’t a Hufflepuff after all.

Nonie shook her head. “You know exactly why. It’s tradition! And if I remember right, when we first started this, you were thrilled to be invited…”

Merula pouted. “I was… desperate…”

Nonie had to laugh, thinking back on what happened so many years ago…

“Do we have everything?” Nonie asked, looking around the astronomy tower. This was where they had decided to spend new years. Here they could watch the Stars, and later the fireworks that would be going off over Hogsmeade.

So they had made the classroom comfortable, putting big fluffy pillows everywhere, and also distributing candles.

Tonks had brought some sparklers she had left over from a prank, and Chiara and Penny had made cookies.

“We should have everything indeed…” Rowan said, with a smile.

They had made their preparations in the morning, so that all would be done in the evening.

The Hufflepuff girls agreed to meet back here once it got dark, and everyone left to do other things until then.

She had just curled up on the chair and started reading, also listening to music on her tape player, when suddenly out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone standing next to her.

Nonie went to the library. She loved it here at this time of year. Not many students had stayed in the castle, so it was very empty and quiet.

With a smile she picked a book, and went to sit in her favourite place, a cosy chair in the back, hidden behind many rows of bookshelves.

She screamed, almost falling out of the chair.

It was Merula.

“Why do people enjoy sneaking up on me this much????” Nonie asked, taking of her headphones. “Merula, what do you want? I don’t really want to fight today. It’s Silvester.”

Merula gave her a weird look. “Silvester? It’s called new years, you idiot.”

Nonie sighed. “Just tell me what you want.”

And suddenly, Merula seemed to get oddly embarrassed. “I just… wanted to ask you if…”

A little confused Nonie looked at her. She had never seen Merula like this.

“It’s nothing.” She suddenly said, turned around and walked away.

Even more confused, Nonie watched as she walked away.

Sometimes, instead of being insulting, Merula just did weird things.

With a shrug, Nonie went back to reading her book.

It wasn’t a tradition to eat them at midnight in her family, but it was in many other German households. She had just wanted to contribute something to their little party, and this had been the best thing she could think of. So she got to it, trying to follow the recipe her Mum had send her as closely as possible, and tried not to make enough of a mess that the house elves would kick her out.

A little later Nonie snuck into the kitchen. She wanted to prepare something special for the get together later.

She wanted to try to make Berliner. (basically a doughnut without a hole, that is filled with jam)

After a while, Debbie walked in and offered to help her.

Nonie happily accepted the offer, because she felt like she was in a little over her head here. She wasn’t the best at cooking and baking but had really wanted to give this a shot. But the help was well needed, as she really had some trouble. The first batch she had made were still doughy on the inside, while being almost burned on the outside.

Luckily, together they managed to figure it out. The next one looked much better, so they started to fill them.

“Thank you for the help.” Nonie said, with a smile. “I was about to throw in the towel.”

Debbie laughed. “No problem, it was fun. Except for when I burned myself, but it’s fine.”

They finished up the Berliner, and were about to leave the kitchen, when they ran into Merula.

“Are you following me?” Nonie asked, a little concerned.

Merula shook her head and seemed to want to say something again. “No, I- I- I would never follow you around! Why would I follow someone like you? I’m the most powerful witch at Hogwarts, I can’t associate with you.”

None looked at her, raising her eyebrows. “Alright then. See you, Merula.”

Merula kept walking.

“Do you think she might want to spend new years with us?” Debbie deduced.

Nonie looked after Merula. “Do you think so?”

She nodded. “Yes, I do. She is the only one in her group that stayed at the castle over the holidays. Maybe she is lonely.”

“Hm…” Nonie said. “Maybe you are right… I’ll see you in the astronomy tower later, I need to investigate…”

Debbie laughed. “Yes, see you later. Good luck.”

It had almost gotten dark when Nonie approached Merula in the courtyard. She was sitting on the bench between the statues, staring into the sky.

“Merula?” she asked.

The witch flinched, turning around to face her.

Nonie grinned. That was payback…

“What do you want, Star?” Merula snarled. “Can you get out of my hair? I was enjoying the quiet.”

Nonie rolled her eyes. “If you want to spend new years with my friends and I, you just need to ask.”

Merula blushed. “I don’t want to…”

Nonie laughed. “Come on, it’s alright. Tomorrow we can go back to hating each other, but you shouldn’t be alone for new years.”

She grabbed her hand and dragged her along.

Merula tried to struggle, but in the end just accepted it. Her face was bright red in embarrassment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The other Hufflepuff girls were a bit confused when Nonie arrived with Merula in tow, but quickly accepted it. Merula felt quite awkward at first, but then started to enjoy herself.

And while watching the fireworks, Merula had whispered quiet “Thank you.” To Nonie. But it was quickly followed up by: “Don’t expect me to ever say that again.”

Nonie had to laugh, thinking of the memory. “I still don’t get why you didn’t just ask.”

And even now, Merula blushed. “I… fine, it’s been so many years that I can say this without it being embarrassing. I didn’t want to spend new years eve with you and your stupid friends… I wanted to spend it with you. But I was too proud to admit it. Even after we started dating.

And with a last roll of her eyes, Merula let it happen… because even though she always moped and complained, she had to admit that these Hufflepuff get together’s were at least sort of funny…

Now Nonie just laughed even more. “Mer, sometimes you are just… I love you. That’s so sweet.”

Merula turned her face away. “Now that that’s out, can we skip that stupid get together?”

And just like back then, Nonie grabbed her hand pulling her along. “We are going. You are not getting out of this.”

Merula sighed. “Why meeeeee…. I hate you.”

“I’m aware. You say that every year.” Her girlfriend said. “But that won’t get you out of it either.”

#hphm #Jacobs sibling #merula snyde #jacob's sibling x merula #new year #Hufflepuff #hogwarts mystery

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universal-kitty · 5 years ago

Note

“When you’re happy, I’m happy.” for you and N! 💖🧡 [Robotarmjokes]

Send me a number and a paring, and I’ll write a ficlet!@robotarmjokes

“V! Guess what!? You’re a....veeby! A baby! But with a V!” The trainer burst into laughter at the expression Victini made in reaction to the statement, chirping and trilling their opinions in a very excitable manner. It even made their companion laugh, perfectly hearing the words of the pokemon.

“A baby?! I’m not a baby!!! I’m a very powerful, legendary pokemon! I’m soooo powerful and lucky! Luck-power! You gotta respect meeeeee!!!” Honestly...what a delight to bare witness to.

It’d been a few years since N had returned from his explorations of the world. Understanding people better and the bond that formed between trainers and Pokemon. What did that mean to such a delicate system? That journey was to highlight his shortcomings and better figure out how to move forward. What he hadn’t expected from either of them was the persistent ache of missing someone important...

Kira, the one with the Victini. A cherished friend they obtained somewhere along their journey and bonded with deeply. Back then, they’d been such a small-time trainer. Sometimes, he could still remember the Snivy in their arms, determined to stick by this trainer he- at the time- barely knew. All he knew was that his trainer loved him unconditionally, healed him when he was hurt, and brought new experiences into his life...and he already never wanted to part from them.

The beginning of his interest in them. The beginning of their never-ending chase for him, from the dismantling of Team Plasma to even trying to find him from region to region around the world. Such determination, passion, emotion... It overwhelmed him back then. It was important to him then, and even now.

It’s even why they began dating in the first place, Kira being endlessly patient with him, all their pokemon, and even their new understudy, the current Unova champion. (A young woman named Kisa. They’d gotten a good laugh at the similarity in name and got along well. Too high-energy for N to be around for long, personally, but she apparently was dating some up-and-coming star, so... Good for her.)

N found himself snapping free of his daydreams as green moved beside him. It was Pride, once that little Snivy, now a proud Serperior...and it was watching him. For a long moment, nothing was said, just staring between the two; Pride’s stare intense, while N was simply curious.

“...May I rest on your lap? My daughter has tired us both out.” N’s smile brightened, nodding eagerly. “Yes, of course! Feel free to.” His smile widened when he saw the younger Snivy- Ivy, funnily enough- slide off her father’s back, quickly crawling into N’s lap. Pride curled his body close, then contented himself with placing his head on N’s left thigh, sighing softly as he got comfortable. Pride’s body rippled a moment in quiet surprise when N’s hand gently landed on his head, but relaxed once pets were given.

This was...nice. Lovely, even. He looked up just in time to meet Kira’s eyes, V now in their arms and watching the scene under the tree with an affectionate, warm smile. (Heat rolled from the top of his head into the tips of his toes at such a loving look. Hopefully his heart was faring better...) It took them a moment, settling the small legendary in their arms and giving them a treat, before they could walk over and sit next to him.

“Ivy being a mischief maker again?”

“So Pride said,” N agreed with a small nod. “She seems very energetic for such a small pokemon.”

“Only around us, maybe,” Kira said with a soft laugh, leaning a little into N’s side. (His heart soared, head light with joy. Emotions are so...odd, yet delightful.) “She’s so shy everywhere else... It makes it hard to go into the city sometimes. She either wants to hide in my hood or crawl into my jacket. It’s just easier and a bit more comfortable for the both of us when she stays in the pokeball.”

“...Not too much?” He can’t help but ask for the clarifaction. It still makes him uncomfortable and nervous, the idea of not giving pokemon more freedom. Of limiting them so much. He knows Kira wouldn’t- they’re so kind and love pokemon just as much as he does- but--

“Of course not,” they assure, nose brushing his cheek. His face burns red within seconds, flustered all over again at such simple things. Suppose that’s what it’s like to love someone? If he kissed them now, it wouldn’t have been the first time they’ve done so, but it still makes him so unbelievably happy...

A yip draws his attention away from Ivy in his lap and to Zorua, who’s finally given up on digging holes and causing mischief to wild pokemon. Kisa originally received him from a Plasma grunt (one that still followed and believed in N), but- on N’s request- returned him to his original trainer. Now the little pest was much akin to a son to them both...along with the other Zoroark and Zorua Kira caught during their shenanigans after N had left Unova. (A short few months before they left Unova to find him.)

V is dozing off in Kira’s lap, Ivy’s taken up N’s, and with Pride nearby... Zorua abandons begging his trainer for affection, crawling into Kira’s lap and flopping over V, instead. The two have become friends since they’ve met, practically, so when V peers down and black and red fur, they do nothing but wiggle into a more comfortable spot, and get back to falling asleep.

“...He’s so cute,” Kira crooned softly, scratching the fur of Zorua’s cheek. The pokemon made a soft noise, but did nothing else. Was he falling asleep already? Ah, N could be envious of that...

“I don’t think he’s quite as cute as you, though.”

“.........oh.” N glanced at their face, a smile brightening up his own at the pink on their cheeks and the shy look in their eyes. Every once and awhile, he’d give lines like that a shot- a try at confidence- and every time it worked, he felt bolder. More proud of himself and how far he’s come... How far they’ve come, to be together like this.

“It’s true,” he murmurs, voice low as his hand moves from resting on Ivy’s back and to Kira’s hand, tangling their fingers together. “You’re so cute, darling. So lovely. My heart races when I look at you. You mean the world to me, you do. When you’re happy, I’m happy. When you’re sad or upset, I would like you to keep telling me, so I can be there for you...just as you have always been there for me.” A kiss to their cheek first, then nuzzling down until they tilted their head up just enough for him to kiss them. “...I love you, Kira.”

They gave a shaky sigh, flustered tears in their eyes and face burning red. He knew they were a bit of the “crybaby” type; too many strong emotions make them weepy, but he still needed to ask... “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah...” A sniffle, a nod, and then they continued, “You’re just...so sweet. I worried so much about so many things and now... Now you’re here. We’re together now and... Ah. I love you too, N. So, so much. It makes my heart hurt.”

“In a good way, I’d hope.”

“A good way,” they murmured, then laughed softly. “Always a good way... Everything is better when I’m with you, Natural.” Now it was his turn to laugh, eyes brightening at the rare use of his full name. Not all too proud of it- thus why he was still called “N” over it- but it...was nice to hear from Kira, every now and then.

....Maybe longer...

“Hey, Kira? Have you thought...on traveling together?”

“Hmm?” They looked up at him and it took him all his focus to make his eyes meet theirs, swallowing hard. Oh boy...

“You mentioned visiting Johto...and how you’re incredibly fond of Ecruteak City. I thought we could visit it together sometime.” They stared at him- expressionless- a moment longer before those dark green eyes widened, straightening up a little.

“...Really?”

“Yes.” A pause, then them eagerly nodding their head, eyes bright. “Ah, I’m glad! I’ve been making plans, but it would’ve been a shame if you didn’t want to go...”

“Plans?!”

“Shhh!” They both glanced down at their napping pokemon and, seeing that nobody had woken up, N continued. “Yes, but they’re secret plans. You can’t know until we go...and I won’t tell you there either, okay? You’ll only know as we go from place to place.” He smiled, proud of himself and his notebook of plans, hidden back at his apartment. A whole week for them...and something else, too. How scary! How exciting; thrilling, even!! Something new for both their lives...

“Ugh, fine...but I’m definitely all in. Let’s figure out when we should, yeah?”

“Most definitely.”

#robotarmjokes #Aki answers #self insert #self ship #self insert community #self ship community #Aki Stories #AAAAAAAA HERE WE GO #I'm dying I'm MUSH and I'm SCWEAM #hhhhh skdsjlkdlsdsfkjdkfd #thanks for requesting this D....!!#I need to make a ship tag for N bigtime

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itsjulesharper · 6 years ago

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When we left our intrepid characters, Philippe had stupidly and against all sense, charged off on his own, in the night, without guards (yeah, this would never happen) to the Bastille to find out who this mysterious Duc de Sullun is. And promptly got hit on the nopper. Louis meanwhile, thinks he is hot shit because of all the awesome lights and running water he’s given to his people. JUST LOVE MEEEEEE.

So somehow, Philippe has made it back home to bed, and Liselotte is leaning over him while he is disorientated and half-awake. He looks awful. Bontemps is heard saying, “nothing to worry about, your Highness.” (WRONG form of address – should be ‘your royal Highness’. And so it starts.) Did Bontemps clonk Philippe? Of course, he was acting all forms of suspicious last ep, so he was most obvs. there to swoop in and bring Philippe back. Can’t have a royal prince of France just getting all KILLED without a guard or backup or anything, can we?? Anyways, the doctor says he has a mild concussion and Bontemps adds, “caused no doubt, by the fall.” WHAT FALL. So this is the narrative being spun by suspect Bontemps, eh? “I didn’t fall, ” mumbles Philippe. “I was hit.” There is blood on the pillow and the camera focus goes from clear to fuzzy then back again and everyone is concerned and I am concerned that they keep calling him YOUR HIGHNESS FFS. Philippe wants to talk to his brother but Liselotte says he’s not going anywhere. Philippe mumbles stuff about ‘the mask’ and Bontemps looks quite a bit shitty while Liselotte is all confused and Philippe goes on: “his eyes… one of the prisoners… was wearing a mask.” Bontemps tells the doctor to ensure he gets the rest he needs, Philippe finally falls asleep and we are into the intro.

In the gardens, and Louis and Leopold are in a frantic battle of swords, with lots of clanging and thrusting and grunting and moving about. Leopold finally elbows Louis in the face and draws blood, and Louis looks quite shocked. Bontemps makes a step forward but Marchal puts a hand on his shoulder. Not yet. Louis gives Leopold a look, wipes his nose and turns away… but Leopold advances and Louis whirls, blocking the thrust and they continue to clash. Louis lands a blow on the other man’s kidneys and he advances again before a breath can be caught. They grapple and struggle and in the struggle, Leopold manages to disarm Louis, taking both swords. Louis is shocked and angry (as you would be) and we hear the tiniest sound of a blade being drawn, then see Marchal step forward as he slides his dagger from his belt *heart eyes*. Leopold takes a breath then lowers both swords, his point proven. Bontemps says loftily, “It is customary for the king’s adversary to bow after the fight.” Leopold, looking sweaty and spent, answers: “In Austria it is customary for the loser to bow.” Bontemps ain’t havin’ any of that: “This is not Austria, your Majesty. This is Versailles.” (Not YOUR MAJESTY, UGGGGH). There’s a bit of a Mexican standoff and we see shitty Bontemps, mouth breathing Louis, Leopold looking from every face and gauging the mood and how much he can get away with. Finally he inclines his head (not at ALL like a proper bow) And offers Louis’ sword back. Louis takes it in silence.

And next scene we are walking back into Versailles. Louis says, “a clever ploy. A vicious attack hidden behind a show of weakness.” Leopold replies, “History remembers the winner, not the manner of his victory.” Ah, so now we are on the subject of winners, and Louis says it is time to enter negotiations. Leopold received word from Rome and they ‘look favourably on your guardianship of Strasbourg and Luxembourg.’ Louis is pleased and now wants to discuss Spain. Sure, your Majesty go right ahead, because I am taken by the lovely staircase and marble everywhere. Ahhhh, now they are talking about their ‘deal’ – on King Charles of Spain’s death, they split the spoils. Louis replies that much has changed since that deal. Leopold is all ‘such as?’ and Louis leans in and says tightly, “I won the war.” Before Leopold can reply, the queen floats down the stairs, asking who won. Of course she is talking about the duel, and Leopold says “His Majesty was kind enough to allow me victory.” The queen is concerned for Louis’ bloody nose, but he’s ‘meh, it’s nothing’ about it. Her gaze darts from Leopold to Louis, then back again and Louis picks up on the weirdness, saying that she seems…. “tired.” Huh. Not what I would’ve gone with, but there you go. Nothing that can’t be remedied by a walk in the gardens, it seems. And just look at Leopold – a ‘yeah, I shagged you last night and it was goooood’ expression if ever I saw one.

how you doin’?

The queen looks flustered, bobs a curtsey and hurries down the steps, and Louis does not see her or her lady’s smiles as they float off. Leopold turns to Louis: “how much of Spain do you want?” Louis answers tightly, “All of it,” then continues up the stairs. Leopold sighs, glances back down to the queen in the distance then goes on his way.

*historical note: Louis did indeed demand Spain as part of his wife’s dowry because at the time, he knew Spain could not pay the monies he wanted and so, the ‘we give you money in exchange for the ‘not challenging the throne of Spain” agreement was forfeit. It was also expected that King Charles of Spain (the queen’s brother and also in possession of the mighty Hapsburg jaw) wouldn’t live very long. He surprised them all by living until he was nearly thirty-nine. He was born in 1661, a year after his sister Marie-Therese was married to Louis and so was living in France. She was 22.

that art on the wall – lulz.

so pretteh….

We are back with Philippe, and he is finally on his feet, shuffling along and holding his head but still in a daze. He goes into one of Louis’ private salons and Louis and Bontemps are there, Louis telling him he really should be in bed. Dazed and confused, he sits, and Bontemps butts in with his prepared standard line – that Philippe had ‘an unfortunate accident.’ But nuh-uh Philippe is not here for that mansplaining shit. But Bontemps is really invested in this, even going so far as to say that he spoke with the governor who assured him that Philippe SLIPPED AND FELL. Nup. Philippe calls bullshit on that, saying he went to the Bastille to see the prisoner, then was struck, and that the prisoner wore a mask of iron. And I must say, Louis is rather calm after hearing a prince of France not only went to the Bastille ALONE and without guards, but was hit. He says he was told that the prisoner’s real name was Macquart. Philippe is confused and now we hear the lie Bontemps has settled on – the prisoner is a petty criminal and of unsound mind, believing himself to be an actual duke, so the guards gave him the title of le duc de Sullun to appease him. But why that name? Apparently, ‘Sullun’ is latin – the reverse of ‘nullus’, meaning ‘no one’. And the man in the iron mask does not exist, Louis explains, and it is all in Philippe’s head. Bontemps watches them both in silence but his expression is not quite right but I am suddenly distracted by what Louis is wearing. Look at it! Louis tells Philippe to go back to bed and the scene becomes blurry.

We are back in the gardens and Leopold is striding around, obvs looking for the queen to remind her of teh sexytimes they both had. How indiscreet of him. He finds her nervously undercover of some trees and does his best alpha male impression by silently going over to her, cupping her face and going in for a neck snog. The queen doth protest, overcome by some late shyness/modesty/guilt/loyalty I suppose. Why not? Leopold asks. “You will soon be gone,” she softly replies. Oh, okay. “It will only increase the pain of your departure,” she adds when he wants to just snog it out and enjoy each other. He looks frustrated, asks if he can trust her, that he needs her help. “Your husband is trying to destroy the dynasty that our ancestors have spent six hundred years creating. He will claim all of Spain on your brother’s death. The Hapsburgs will soon be extinct.” The queen is concerned and wants to know what he intends to do about it. “I will stop him.” But how? Oh, apparently his niece Eleanor will marry the queen’s brother, Charles. Plus he wants the queen to write a letter to her brother recommending the union. The queen asks why she should help him, so he plays the “you are a Hapsburg” card, plus the ‘your husband just wanted you for political stuffs, not you as a woman’ guilt trip. Wheeee. He rubs it right in: “He abandoned you the day he married you. Since then, his only gifts have been solitude and infidelity.” The scene cuts to the queen with parchment and quill, thinking what to write, then goes back to them in the garden where they finally kiss WHERE ANYONE CAN SEE THIS, and we have three close-ups of the queen’s ruby ring and THIS IS SIGNIFICANT so take note of it. The queen’s voiceover is then heard: “My dear brother Charles. I am writing to you concerning marriage…”

*Historical note: they mess up the real time lines so much it makes my head spin. Charles of Spain married in 1679 at the age of eighteen to …..SPOILER!!!! Philippe’s favourite daughter, Marie-Louise. She was 17. Can you see how confused I am – are we in 1679? Or 1674 because baby Philippe was born then? Or 1667, when the street lights were first on? Or…. …..SPOILER!!!! 1683 when the queen dies? UGH. FRUSTRATED. 😫

Now back in the salons and we hear the Chevalier holding court, saying “they say that at Villarceaux she spent her nights on her back in bliss, and her days on her knees in penance.” Chortle, chortle. “If you want my opinion – and I’m sure you do-” He suddenly is cut short by the appearance of Maintenon in the doorway, Delphine beside her, and he skilfully changes with subject with “the question is… what colour for the forthcoming season? Blue or green?” The two women blithely stroll and mingle while everyone gossips (CHAIRS WITH ARMS NOOOOO 😡😡) and I’m loving the look of that dark-haired noble behind Liselotte. So very mysterious. We follow Maintenon, and suddenly we see Louis’ last bedmate gossiping with the other demoiselles, saying “behind that air of prudishness, she’s quite the slut. And the next time I see the king, I’ve a good mind to tell him about it.” Silly chit. We know how this is gonna end, don’t we? (but also – look at those gowns!!) And look at this screen cap, which I loooove. Look at the demoiselle’s expression over her shoulder. And the two messieurs behind Delphine, just waiting for a scene.

Delphine is at a loss as to who everyone is talking about, and is shocked when Maintenon confirms she is the subject of all the gossip. Of course there’s no truth to the rumours, she assures Delphine, then excuses herself. She glides, head held high, out the doors and then leans against the stone wall, taking unsteady breaths. The camera pans around and Bontemps appears. “her ladyship seems upset.” (WAT LULZ. Not the correct way to address a marquise, ffs……) “Tell me, Bontemps,” she starts a little out of breath. “Do you consider it the mark of nobility to destroy a lady’s reputation with sordid gossip and lies?” errr…. no. Bontemps looks a bit out of his depth. She nods. “Neither do I.” And she floats off. So now Bontemps is all het up and goes into the salon, all curious-like. He looks a bit shitty as he sees the gossip girl laughing with her gossip friends and then the scene cuts back to Maintenon, who appears to be stomping about and looking for someone. Ahhh. Madame de Montespan. Montespan greets her politely but Maintenon gets right into it, accusing her of being behind the rumours. Montespan claims her innocence – “Why would I do such a thing?” – and Maintenon comes back with the old and favourite ‘you’re just jealous’. Montespan finds that amusing, says it is the other way around, that she was ready to risk everything, while Maintenon is not. And then… ahahahhhhhaaaaaa! She says, “is it true you put other women in his bed?” And I LAUGH AND LAUGH because as I mentioned in Ep1, this is what the real Montespan did, and the real Maintenon tried her earnest to keep women OUT of Louis’ bed because of all the sinning and stuffs. Well, apparently the king has needs that must be satisfied and these women mean nothing to him, says Maintenon with much conviction. Yeah, but nup. Montespan has her number, can see the other woman is scared. Of what? “Of your own passion. You are scared that if you give in to it, you will lose control. You take refuge in piety and denial but behind the mask you’re just screaming with pain.”

Next scene – Leopold is studying paperwork in his rooms with his Austrian Bontemps, niece Eleanor reading a book in the corner, and he is told King Charles is expecting their imminent arrival. How is Leopold going to approach the negotiations, his Austemps asks. The same as Louis – “Lie, haggle, concede, coerce, protest…. and smile.” When his man reminds Leopold the king is dangerous and starts to offer advice, Leopold gets a bit shitty. He does not need advice: “This is a game of cards. The prize is Spain and I have the trump card.” DISMISSED, AUSTEMPS.

Right, so Louis enters the small prayer room where Maintenon has perched her carcass. Again. She turns. Louis is shitty. “There is talk in the salon.” Oh, I’ll bet there is. He wants to know if there is any truth in it. “No, Sire. It is scurrilous gossip designed to destroy my reputation.” DEAR LORD, MAINTENON. You could’ve come clean. He was offering you the prime opportunity to tell him all about it. And so you LIE, knowing how he feels about liars. *headdesk* Louis is annoyed because it also damages his reputation. Maintenon kisses ass: “The king must know he has my total trust. I only pray I have his.” Right-o, sowing the seeds for when she finally does tell the truth, then. He gives her a look then says, “come with me.”

Back in Leopold’s rooms and Eleanor wants to go to the salons. “No, you will stay here and practice your embroidery.” (Lulz) “Embroidery is for spinsters.”😆 He gives her a champion side eye – she needs to show a little more humility and respect… oh, and befriend the queen. Eleanor isn’t impressed – the queen seems dull to her. She’s a Habsburg, dammit. And you will talk to her about Spain. Ugh. Srsly. How boring. Eleanor seems lovely and bouncy like a teenager often is, looking for fun and excitement. But Leopold doesn’t care for that: “You are only here because I have a use for you.” Eleanor looks shitty, as would I. “Yes, Uncle.”

Bontemps doing his now-standard shitty look.

Right-o, so Louis enters the salon after Bontemps announces him, and everyone stops gossiping and playing cards and does the usual stand/bow/curtsey. He looks shitty, and Maintenon behind him looks apprehensive, and then he announces “To lie is a sin. To slander is a sin. To seek to destroy someone through unfounded gossip is a sin. A woman close to me who does great honour to this court has seen her reputation stained by the poison of gossip. In harming her, you harm your king. This will stop. Now.” The camera pans to Maintenon, then to the Gossip Girl as Louis turns to look at her and – we learn her name is Mademoiselle de Vasseur – tells her she is no longer welcome at Versailles. The camera pans to a few faces: the shocked and controlled-panicky Vasseur, Maintenon who follows Louis as he leaves, Liselotte with a tight expression, Montespan as Vasseur rushes from the room while whispers start. Liselotte approaches Montespan, says the girl is innocent. Montespan: Nobody here is innocent. Liselotte: You started those rumours. Montespan: They’re not rumours, they’re true. She deserves to be punished for her past, just as I was.

Liselotte leaves while Bontemps gives Montespan the most shittiest look eva.

The music swells (LOOOOOVE the music!) and we are outside, in the coeur d’honneur following a hooded female figure all the way up to the guards who cross their weapons and TAH-DA it is the return of Sophie! “I think you’d probably better arrest me.”

Scene cut to Marchal walking through to his office dungeon, and he gives a sigh, turns and sees Sophie standing there. Then a conversation is had about where she’s been (Holland) and why she was there (Thomas told her) and what she is doing now (being a double agent, apparently. Working for William of Orange as a spy but telling Marchal all about it). Marchal looks rather intimidating, circling her and meeting her eyes and getting very close, but Sophie looks very cool and calm. Now they are both before Louis and he is all “A spy. Here at Versailles.” She spins her story, saying she refused to spy, that she was not suited, that she then escaped by seducing the guard then taking refuge in convents and taverns on the way home. Huh. A likely story. Louis is a bit shitty at the thought of her wanting to reclaim her title and fortune (Cassel’s fortune), and Sophie is all “I place myself at your mercy, sire.” Louis is not fooled. “Lock her up.” Sophie plays her trump card, blurting out that William of Orange’s army is on the march, 10,000 men headed to Austria to support Emperor Leopold. Louis’ WTF face is so funny 😄 Interesting that Sophie gives up some info to ‘prove’ her innocence, yet that info can’t immediately be confirmed or denied. Of course, Marchal is gonna make enquiries to confirm it and meanwhile she remains locked up.

We are back with Philippe, who is fully dressed on the bed, contemplating…. something. He slowly sits up and with a determined look, heads to see Louis. Bontemps looks surprised to see him, says the doctor was most insistent. “He is no longer my doctor. And I know what I saw.” Bontemps looks worried as Philippe continues on, and Bontemps strides off to see a guard, instructing him to go to the stables and prepare a horse and messenger to leave immediately for Rome.

The queen is teaching Eleanor Spanish in the queen’s rooms as they play cards, the younger girl asking questions about “the king, your brother” saying she must miss him and I am UGH NO HE WAS BORN IN 1661, A YEAR AFTER SHE LEFT SPAIN TO MARRY LOUIS. The queen is coolly “yes, I miss him terribly,” (reminder: MARRIED) and she has his portrait to remind her of him (the original was painted by Claudio Coello). Eleanor is holding back the ewwww when the queen says “it’s not his fault he was born that way. As you can imagine, he suffers, but he has a noble heart.” Eleanor is so not impressed.

*historical note: Charles of Spain was the last of the Hapsburgs and had a shit load of physical and mental challenges, due to a history of consanguineous unions (uncles marrying nieces, cousins to cousins. Louis and the queen were actually first cousins, as their parents were brother and sister) . If you are interested in reading more about the doomed Hapsburg dynasty there was a fascinating study done in 2009 in science journal PLOS One on the role of inbreeding in the European royal dynasty here.

Leopold does not like what Louis proposes for their negotiations. “If you claim all of Spain and its territories you will trigger a war with every country in Europe!” Louis is not deterred, because yo, he has won one war and his army is well-prepared for another. Leopold is mucho angry: it would be a war without end. “I want what is mine,” Louis replies. “You think everything is yours,” is Leopold’s reply. Louis is all casual-like: “What will you do if the Turks advance on Vienna? Hope it rains? Or are you counting on the rabble that is William of Orange’s army?” Leopold’s expression is ‘uh-oh’ as Louis delivers his persuasive argument – “the only person who can protect you is me.” But Leopold says that the pope will never approve of giving Spain to Louis. More negotiations – Louis says he’ll only take 80%, Leopold says ‘nup, nuh-uh.’ Better start Turkish lessons, then.

Next scene…. Philippe riding ALONE through the woods and minus any guard or escort. I am wondering if this horrid oversight of what it actually means to be a prince of France is deliberately ignored in order to show the viewer that he is very bad-ass and fiery and will do whatever TF he wants. But it backfires on this viewer. It is stupid. We see a nice shot of the Bastille and then we are inside, where Philippe is talking to the head guard and we learn that the dude in the room that Philippe said contained the Iron Mask Man has cut his wrists. We see this dude – Macquart – obvs dead, face down on the desk and with blood on the floor. Philippe lifts up the dead man’s head, and he knows it is not the one who was originally there. We cut to the jailer, who is looking just a wee bit nervous, then Philippe asks “Who struck me?” but the jailer is still going with the ‘slipped and fell’ defence and Philippe is not happy about that. He also says the dead man wore a mask of iron….aaaaand the jailer is all confused and “Your Highness, there is no prisoner wearing such a thing,” which we all know is total bullshit because we have seen it all with our own eyes. The body is removed, the jailer bows and Philippe is left standing in the room looking a bit frustrated and sighing mightily. Then he spots the words “KILL ME” carved in the stone wall. He turns and walks out, past a ranty and smelly-looking poor sod in a cage outside. Philippe pauses with a brief sad smile, does the whole “Do you know who I am?” to which the ranty dude says “I know you better than you know yourself.” then it sounds like he says “Philippe of Gutter and Arsewipe and Good Dung.” My French subs say “of gutter and dung” which is about right. Philippe is amused, asks if he knew of the (now dead) man in the cell. “Everybody knows him, nobody knows him, if you know what I am saying. Don’t look him in the eyes, he’ll eat you up.” Is he still alive? Philippe wants to know. Dude gets a bit angry: “he’s undead! You can’t kill him!” But Philippe is also angry and all “did he wear a mask?!!” Ranty Man sticks to his story: “He will kill you with his eyes!” and then we hear other noises and Philippe has had enough, striding out as Ranty Man finishes with “Cain, brother of Abel. Two brothers drenched in blood and cursed forever!” which is pretty much a dead giveaway to what is to come.

Right, so back in the gardens of Versailles and…. okay, the Chevalier is strolling arm-in-arm with Liselotte, while two servants walk behind with the baby, looking all cosy as a couple. Also WEIRD AF because historically those two hated each other at this stage, only calling a truce much later in life when everyone was older and (I guess) tired of fighting about shit. Maintenon bows her head at Liselotte’s greeting and she asks to admire the petit prince and everyone smiles and looks on adoringly. Then Maintenon looks all concerned and serious and I know some shit is gonna go down because she is Maintenon the cow and knows Liselotte was part of the rumour spreading. “If I may. I don’t mean to seem impertinent, but I think you are making a grave mistake by keeping him here.”

baby Philippe ahhhhh!

WAT.

The Chevalier gives Liselotte a look, and Liselotte is all calm and “is that so?” Maintenon replies: “Well, it is not the right environment for a child.” (and I laugh and laugh because LOUIS HAS ALL HIS KIDS THERE, and for fucksake, if it is good enough for HIS HEIRS then it is good enough for everyone else!) Liselotte, comes back with a polite fuckyou:

Kindly shut the fuck up.

Liselotte: May I ask what gives you the right to tell me how to look after my child? Maintenon: I was a governess. Liselotte: Yet never a mother. Maintenon: (expression a bit tight) Alas, no. Liselotte: You’d think one of your many lovers would solve that problem. Maintenon: (after a pause) It would seem your reputation for honesty and integrity is ill-deserved.

Then Maintenon flies off on her broom glides away while the Chevalier smacks his lips and says “well, that went well,” and Liselotte is much disturbed by what just transpired. (Narrator: As well she should. Much wtfuckery is about to explode. EXPLODE, I TELL YOU! 😡)

We are back with Louis and his ministers, and Colbert is flicking annoyedly through the pages of a ledger, saying that their monies to finance their expansion into the Americas and to fortify their borders will add another two million to the deficit. UUUUGH. More pesky money talk and Louis can’t quite believe that he doesn’t have an endless pit of money to allow him to run the country as he sees fit. (Sames, Louis, sames) He demands that his people respect the law i.e. pay the taxes they simply cannot afford. So begins the rise of Tyrant Louis in all his splendour, setting the stage for an obvious revolt later on. Colbert is annoyed and frustrated. Then Bontemps enters and says he’s discovered the source of the Maintenon rumours. Louis knows without Bontemps confirming: “bring her to me.”

We are back in Paris, with Guillaume and Jeanne in their eh-by-gum Yorkshire workshop where they are stressing about taxes. G thinks his workers are just being slackers, and demands to know who hasn’t paid their taxes because his is an upstanding, law abiding citizen. Some workers say they haven’t – they don’t like the hike: “the king’s gone too far.” Thus ensues a resigned exchange: “if you want us to pay more taxes, give us more money.” “If I pay you more money, the business will fold.” “Whether we work or not, most of us are gonna die in rags and poverty.”

Back at Versailles and we have a stunning-looking Montespan going before Louis. His back is turned, Bontemps says “there is a piece of paper on the table. You will read it aloud then sign it.” So with great trepidation she reads: “I, the Marquise de Montespan, do hereby renounce and relinquish my place at the court of Versailles. I pledge to sever all contact with anyone I may know at the palace and will take no further part in court life. I shall devote the rest of my days to prayer and charitable work. I have sinned and I accept my penance.” She signs as Bontemps tells her her affairs are in order, and a carriage will take her to the convent of Sainte Ursule, never return to court. Montespan is clearly shaken, says, “a condemned normally has a right to a last word before being led away.” Louis does not turn around as she begins: “where I once saw the warm face of a man, I now see the stone face of a tyrant. You treat those around you like slaves and you place yourself beyond mortal sway. But remember the story of Icarus – fly to close to the sun and you will fall and drown.”

Bontemps always seems to be in a state of shitty side-eyes

There is a pause: Louis looks so very shitty, like a petulant child suffering a parental scolding. Finally he says (still not turning around), “the dance is over. Go.” And so Montespan leaves. Louis says to Bontemps, “In time I will forgive her. But I will never forget.” And there we have it. The end of Montespan’s reign. We see her in slo-mo through the corridors, music swelling as she makes her final walk past the courtiers, her face a mask of tight control. Maintenon watches her go then turns on her heel, slo-mo walking towards the camera that smug, nasty little witch.

*Historical note: Montespan did indeed leave Versailles for a convent but it happened over time. First she was moved to a less favourable apartment in 1685, then in 1687 Louis changed his visiting times. She was consoled from this fall from favour by seeing her children married off well, then in 1691 she finally left court to the convent Saint-Joseph in Paris’ Rue de Saint-Dominique, where Louis allocated her an allowance of 500,000 francs. You can read more about her here.

The scene cuts to Maintenon in her rooms, now lounging nekkid in the bath, and Louis the creeper is watching her through the gap in the door. She stands, wraps herself in a sheet and is surprised to see Louis in the shadows. She wants to know how long he’s been there, and he acts like a teenager, kind of stuttering and getting her robe. Right. They stand before a glorious mirror, and she thanks him for what he said in the salons, in defence of her honour. (what honour UUUUGH) and then he goes in for a snog and she is more than willing to let him, even as she whispers “Please don’t. I can’t.” More snogging, a bit of va-jay-jay grabbing, which seems to snap her out of it, breaking away and hissing, “Enough. His majesty takes advantage of his station.” ?????? WTF. Louis is angry: “sometimes I don’t know what my station is with you.” And Maintenon is all “I would ask you to leave.” He does in a mighty huff but she stops him with an offering: “The Marquise de Quincy awaits his majesty in his room.” Nice pimpin’ there, Maintenon. Louis turns and storms off, while Maintenon sits and looks a bit stressed but most def. does not cry as you would expect one would when you send the man you love INTO ANOTHER WOMAN’S BED.

And there Louis is, entering his room as a pretty marquise obediently sits on his bed and removes her robe. Louis’ expression is all ‘ugh’ and quite a bit shitty but hey, lets not allow feelings and stuffs to get in the way of a tumble in the sheets, eh?

Meanwhile, Leopold is in his room, quaffing from that FABULOUS GLASSWARE, and his door slowly opens to reveal the queen. And so they engage in some shagging after she tells him she wrote the letter.

Louis stands and stares melancholic from his window as Bontemps enters, and he bids his servant to come join him a moment. He is in a mood: “Everyone looks at a king and says ‘I would give anything to be in his place. All he wants is his.’ But they see only the surface. They see nothing of the shadows below.” Bontemps: “No one has all he wants, sire. Not even a king.” Louis replies cryptically, “From the darkest shadow springs the brightest light.”

A shot of the fountain now and is it daybreak or sunset? We follow Marchal walking a dingy corridor with keys, leading us to Sophie in a cell. Has he come to torture her? “My men have checked every detail of your journey from Holland. It seems you are telling the truth.” And so, the king has given permission for her release. “You are once again, the duchesse de Cassel.” Yeah, but nah. Marchal still does not trust her and I am on his side with that. Something just seems off with it all. “You may be free,” Marchal drawls, “but whatever you do, whoever you talk to, wherever you go, I’ll be watching you.” Sophie casually walks past him, looking a little flirty. “Even when I return to my chambers?” Marchal watches her go with a suspicious eye and I am all OKAY THEN.

We are in the chambers of Liselotte, where she is cooing over baby Philippe’s cot. Look at her face! What a lovely domestic motherly scene. PITY IF SOMETHING WERE TO HAPPEN TO IT. Liselotte is all heart eyes “Philippe, he smiled! Come and look!” Meanwhile, Philippe is moping on the bed, while she breathlessly says “look at those blue eyes! Aren’t they beautiful!” And still Philippe looks mega-shitty and now I AM SO ANNOYED because Real Philippe absolutely adored his children and it physically pains me to see him portrayed as a spoilt, moody asshole. But wait, ‘blue eyes’ hits a chord with him and we can practically see his brain starting to click and turn. BLUE EYES. And he storms off without a word. UGH.

Philippe stomps into Marchal’s dungeon (WITHOUT GUARDS yet again), asks if the name Marcquart means anything to him, then relates what he knows – a thief in the Bastille, face hidden behind an iron mask, then a dead body is removed. The first man had blue eyes, the dead man, brown. Philippe needs Marchal’s help to get to the bottom of it, but bummer, Marchal only serves the king. “Don’t see this as work. See this more of… say…. leisure activity.” LULZ the look on Marchal’s face.

Murder investigation for fun? I AM SO THERE.

your people? errr…. they love you.

We are back in Louis’ rooms and Guillaume is measuring him for shoes, Jeanne taking notes. “Tell me about the mood of the people in Paris,” Louis suddenly says. G is all ‘wtf now?’ before he says “they are happy, sire. To be ruled by so generous a monarch.” But hey, aren’t they unhappy with paying their taxes? “nothing that isn’t cured by hard work, sire.” Louis continues to fish, saying that surely there are some who despise their king. AS IF Guillaume would go “oh, yeah. Let me give you their names.” ? Instead he placates, says there will always be those who don’t think of the glory of France, who think only of themselves…. while Jeanne’s expression is quite a bit ‘ugh.’ She finally says, “they are hungry.” and Bontemps butts in with “mind your tongue” and I am really, REALLY starting to dislike Bontemps this season. Louis wants to hear, however, and goes on a bit of a condescending monologue, like they are both children: “You must understand that a king is only there to serve his people and his country, to defend the land, to develop trade and commerce. To pay for construction. All these things require money. (MANSPLAINING a king’s duties) And the only way to raise money is through taxation. Is that so wrong?” Jeanne: It is. If it bleeds the people dry. Louis: SHOCKED FACE. Jeanne: The people his majesty claims to serve believe he serves only personal ambition.

Let me mansplain being a king to you.

The music becomes ominous as Guillaume tries to backtrack, but Jeanne will have none of it. She means what she says. Louis steps to her, gives her a death stare and says, “But you are wrong. I do not seek glory for myself but for France.” (But you are France, Louis. Srsly). Jeanne: Your people care little for the glory of France, sire. They are grateful for clean water and lighting, but neither will fill their stomachs. Louis steps away, looks thoughtful, then thanks them for their honesty. And as they leave, Guillaume is furious. “Have you lost your mind?” Jeanne retorts: “have you lost your origins?” They have a hushed argument about being ungrateful for the king’s favour, how she told Louis the truth, would he have her lie? YES! says G. Why? Because he’s the king! And interestingly, here we see the seeds of motivation for Jeanne. This makes sense. Her character makes sense. We see her in her Ordinary World, we see her struggles and her conflict, dealing with the people around her, and so as time goes on, we understand her motivation for all she does. Unlike Agathe in Season 2, who was just ‘down with the tyrant king!’ without any real reason WHY.

Now we are in a salon with Marchal, and he approaches Philippe. He has news – his agents in Paris say Marcquart was a harmless petty thief, just trying to feed his family. “So what was he doing in the Bastille?” Philippe asks. Marchal: “He was not in the Bastille.”

Duh-DUH. Orchestra, play something dramatic.

We’re walking with Leopold and his Bontemps now, and Leo confirms the pope will look favourably upon the match… and right now I am most concerned with the huge and disturbing absence of PEOPLE. There is a distinct lack of people in Versailles and it is hugely distracting to me. Servants, courtiers, guards, ministers… where ARE THEY??? no one was hardly ever alone in Versailles, there were bodies E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E. But these corridors and halls are empty and there only seems to ever be a handful of people in the salons or strolling about the gardens.

Gonna leave you tomorrow. So sad.

Anyways, Leo enters Louis’ rooms – he has good news and bad. Good news – he’s decided he is gonna give 80% of Spain to Louis upon Charles’ death. He says he’s had enough of war, he wants peace and stability. And the bad news? Leo is leaving. They hug, they smile and tonight they will celebrate the signing of their agreement.

BUT WAIT…. FORGET THAT. One of the most GTFO scenes is just about to happen. STRAP IN.

Liselotte is in her rooms, cooing over baby Philippe when we hear the doors open. Bontemps, two guards and mega-cow Maintenon walk in. ARE YOU READY FOR THIS?????? Liselotte’s expression drops. “No. Please. Don’t take him away. Let me talk to the king.” Bontemps: It is the law of the palace, your Highness. I am sorry (WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK NO IT IS NOT) A guard steps forward and Liselotte pushes him away and WAT. Another guard grabs her and holds her back and I AM IN A FUCKING RAGE BECAUSE SHE IS A PRINCESS OF FUCKING FRANCE WHAT THE FUCK. Liselotte screams, the baby cries (A PRINCE OF FRANCE FOR FUCKSAKE!) “Take him away and you take away my heart,” Liselotte sobs, Bontemps says “this is no place for children” (WHAT A FUCKING CROCK – there were children everywhere in Versailles, including LOUIS’ OWN FUCKING CHILDREN) and Maintenon, that utter fucking hypocritical snake, murmurs “it is for the best,” and the doors close as Liselotte sobs.

And here – HERE – is where I lost all hope for this season. Seriously. This is so much fucking bullshit that I can smell it clear on the other side of the world. THIS IS WRONG. I do not mind historical fiction. I enjoy historical fiction. But when the historical facts are totally and utterly distorted, just for the sake of some dramatic twist – which, having watched the entire season, serves NO ACTUAL PURPOSE – this is a fucking insult. Let us break this down. The baby is a prince of France. A royal mistress, no matter how high in affection, cannot just REMOVE a prince of France. Liselotte is a princess. The hierarchy, while complicated by Princes of the blood and other titles and orders, goes like this: King first, then Queen, then the dauphin and dauphin’s kids, then Philippe (as brother of the king), then Liselotte (as wife to brother of the king), then children of Philippe. Maintenon, ranked as a marquise, is much lower on the totem pole – the Chevalier de Lorraine is a foreign prince, Delphine a duchesse, and BOTH rank higher than Maintenon. Versailles was all about RANK and PROTOCOL and to have an uppity marquise even approach a member of the royal family, much less REMOVE ONE, is so fucking beyond ridiculous that I have to use a telescope to find even a fucking glimmer of where it is. Louis would have gone absolutely ballistic.

GET IN THE FUCKING SEA. 😡 😡 😡 😡 😡

From the ridiculous to the streets of Paris. Colbert is on his soapbox, telling everyone that he is here to remind them of the shared vision that “binds us all together. And of the wonder of our king, Louis.” Cue unpressed looks from the peasant crowd. “You have chosen to question his authority. Our great king has only one purpose. To further the glory of France. But we all must make sacrifices just as he does. We must believe as he does. Dream as he does. Suffer as he does!” Murmurs from the crowd… they are not buying it. “We must trust in him as he trusts in us.” Bastien pipes up: “Why should we trust him? What, so he can steal our money more easily?” The crowd laughs but Colbert valiantly continues: “The king steals from no one! He raises taxes which he then returns to his people. Look at his gifts! Education. Roads. Clean water. Streets like glory!” “And poverty,” Bastien adds. Another peasant heckles, “Glory my arse!” And someone grabs an egg from a cart and hurls it at Colbert and suddenly there is a barrage of food while Colbert tries for calm. Food being thrown despite their complaints of being hungry in the streets… And the guards hustle Colbert away as the crowd turns nasty.

Back in Versailles with Louis telling Bossuet of Leopold’s offering of 80% of Spain, telling the priest he must go to Rome to ensure the support of the Vatican. Bossuet is kinda not really happy, but Louis tells him to remind the Pope where his loyalties should lie, and that the bastion of the Catholic church is France. Bossuet does not see how he can influence his Holiness, and Louis calmly says if he has any doubts, then Bossuet can remain at Versailles and draw up a list of replacements for his position. Lulz. Cue a weird look from Bontemps. Much ringing of hands from Bossuet. Meanwhile Marchal and Philippe are walking through the enfilades, Marchal wanting to tell Louis what they know but Philippe is all ‘nup, he will order you to stop because he thinks I’m just making this all up.’ They agree to wait a few days before telling.

won’t anyone rid me of this chattering wench?

Leopold is getting dressed and his niece Eleanor is chattering about Spanish words and the look on Leo’s face is ….😆 Eleanor now wants to go to Spain. Leo says they are going there, and she is all ‘yay! As long as I don’t meet the king – his portrait is atrocious’ And Leo is all ‘tough. You will meet him. Because you gonna marry him. SURPRISE’ Dear Lord, the look on Eleanor’s face. Her mother is on her way there, and they will leave tomorrow. “I refuse,” Eleanor says bravely, looking devastated. Leo slaps her, then gently says, “you will be Queen of Spain* (*Spoiler: she won’t). You should be grateful.”

Back with Louis walking through the salons, and Louvois reports a bunch of Austrian nobles have been spotted making their way to Spain. Why? A family gathering, perhaps? And why do families gather? Louis muses. Louvois – “for funerals.” Louis: “And weddings.”

Sophie returns to the salons, all clean and pretty again, and people are whispering, watching her circulate. She smiles and greets Liselotte, who is alone and sad and attached to a wall.

*historical note: again, what is it with the absence of people? Liselotte, as princess, has an entourage, ladies-in-waiting, plus courtiers hanging about wanting her favour and attention. She would not be clinging to a wall like a Nigel No-Friends.

Liselotte is pleased to see Sophie, who says she has been in a convent. Sophie asks what has happened since she last saw the pregnant Liselotte, and Liselotte says she had a son…. taken from her. “On whose orders?” Sophie asks. Liselotte just stares across the room, right at Maintenon, who is chatting happily to Delphine, the Chevalier in the background. “THE KING!” Bontemps announces, and Louis walks in with the queen, heading straight for a table where the historical signing is to be conducted. Leopold bows (wtf is that “Louis” as he addresses the king of France?? Wrong.) They sit and prepare to sign, and Louis casually mentions Leo’s niece. “I would like her to stay here. We shall show her all the wonders of Versailles.” Ahhhhh, sneaky Louis. Leo is all “it’s a kind offer, but-” but Louis will have none of it. “My wife has conceived an affection for the princess. She would enjoy her company for a few months.” He looks at Eleanor – “-would that please you?” Damn right, it would. And now Leopold cannot refuse. Louis says she will be well looked after then sticks the knife right in: “who knows? We may even find her a husband.” So the camera pans the crowd, they sign the documents, Louis rises and gives a speech about being former enemies now friends, blood replaced by wine, now allies blah blah. Everyone claps as the music swells.

Festivities begin and the Chevalier is being some kind of circus ringleader, demanding a volunteer as he waves about a cane and some silk, the centre of attention. Has a joke about Philippe being missing, then Louvois’ belly, then Louis stands and volunteers. “A brave proposition from the king,” the Chevalier declares as Louis ties on the blindfold. “Olé” (lolwat) he then announces and Louis smiles and starts to blindly grope about the room as courtiers laugh and scatter. I see Maintenon deliberately putting herself in the way, but the Chevalier good-naturedly prods the king with his cane. The queen is watching, playing cards as Leopold hovers behind her, asking her for courage and then whispering something in her ear. As the king laughs and enjoys the game, the queen’s face is looking more panicky as Leo keeps whispering and Jebus, I bet my front teeth he is suggesting something along the lines of regicide… Even that is too much. Meanwhile Louis gropes about, still laughing and the doors behind him open and everyone stills, their faces dropping in shock and horror. Louis senses the mood, quickly removes the blindfold and we see Colbert, battered and bloody and with a smashed-in face. “My God.” Louis gasps. “Who did this to you?” Colbert swallows, then shakily gets out, “the people of France, sire.” Louis looks horrified.

The music swells and that is the end of Episode 2. UGH. What is in store for the next ep?

Like my content? You can like it even more by throwing small amounts of cash at me!

Versailles S3, Ep2 – The one with Sophie’s return When we left our intrepid characters, Philippe had stupidly and against all sense, charged off on his own, in the night, without guards (yeah, this would never happen) to the Bastille to find out who this mysterious Duc de Sullun is.

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eddiekasp · 7 years ago

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Must Be a Better Word- Ch11

Love. There must be A better word. -Adam Gillon My loves @stanleyuriis and @eddiesbadbreak helped me come up with some HCs about Richie and his home life so... its about to get angsty :^) Also on ao3!

Eddie sat in his bed, his two blankets covering his legs up to his belly button and his back leaning on the headboard. The adjustable lamp that sat on the nightstand on the right side of his bed illuminated a small circle of his white sheets, set to the lowest brightness as he told his mother he would be going to sleep nearly 40 minutes ago already. He felt warm; the room was shadowy and dark save for the small golden ring coming from the side. He was wearing to sleep a shirt that was far too long to be his own-- a shirt Richie had left at his house accidentally four days prior.

On his lap on top of the blanket sat the notebook Eddie had found in Richie’s closet, abandoned and nearly lost forever. Eddie felt like it had to have been more than a coincidence that he asked to clean Richie’s room that day. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have the notebook. Richie even let him keep it, happy to see how happy it made Eddie. Eddie just felt lucky.

He had read it so many times through now that he was convinced he could recite it. Eddie had gotten pretty good at memorizing lines of text. Richie starred in many roles in school productions (just last month he played Lumiere in Beauty and the Beast; Beverly did costumes and makeup and Eddie came every night of the show. Richie had pressed the flowers Eddie brought him into a book) and it was always Eddie’s job to help him practice his lines. They’d sit on Richie’s floor, Eddie reading the lines monotonously, making Richie laugh, while Richie reenacted the scene in front of him, gesturing extravagantly and pretending to hit himself on the head with a frying pan like in a cartoon (sounds effects included) when he forgot a line.

Now, the lines in front of him would not be able to bring forth any feeling of monotony. A lot of the pages, some about him and others which were Richie’s writing or doodles, made Eddie wanna spin around in his room or jump up and down or something silly like that, but instead he held the back of his hand up to his mouth, concealing the smile that bloomed on his face from himself.

Others, though, really… worried Eddie. He thought about asking Richie about them-- jokes about his mother and her problem with drinking, or how his father knows anything about him or WANTS to, how he feels like his family totally doesn't give a shit about him-- 8 or so pages like these written as rants or masquerading as funny jokes. But he didn’t know if it was his place. Although Richie had given him the book, Eddie wondered if he remembered those entries were written amongst the many pages of lighter fare. Plus, this was years ago… did Richie still feel this way?

He figured he must have, since Richie had Eddie over at all hours of the night and his parents said nothing. Not to mention the fact that Richie almost never brought up his parents, and if he did it was only to Eddie in a very quick and biting comment. And he knew Richie didn’t drink.

But then he began wondering, and this wondering didn’t stop until he did something about it. If Richie feels ignored and not cared about, Eddie had to do something about it. The thought of him ever feeling that way made warm tears prick in the corner of his eyes if he thought about it for too long.

So Eddie pulled the covers off of his bed, duelly reminded of how much he wanted to talk to his boyfriend after getting a small remembrance of his cologne that stuck like old stickers onto the shirt he was wearing. His heart felt warm, how it felt when he hugged Richie, and he tiptoed quietly into the hallway where the phone was.

The floor under him felt cold on his adjusting toes. He cursed (as he had at least 5 times a week) that his mother did not trust him enough to put a phone in his room. He had mastered the art of closing his door lightly as not to alarm his mother of him running away, and thanked fuck that their old curly-wired home phone in the upstairs hallway had retired from use two years ago, forcing her to get a cordless home phone. He’d sneak into the hallway quickly, the pads of his small feet barely hitting the floor beneath him, snatch the phone up and run back to his room.

He would talk to Richie with his window open, leaning out in that direction because that was the most likely way his mother wouldn’t hear him. Now, though, it was past midnight on the first week of March. Eddie already had Richie’s gift wrapped and hidden in his clothing drawer. Eddie loved March, loved how happy Richie got when they’d surprise him with cake and gifts on his birthday, loved how cold it was besides the 4 layers of shirts his mother made him wear, but now he worried he’d catch a cold leaning out the window in nothing but a thin t-shirt and his underwear.

Eddie bounced slightly up and down, convincing himself he was creating some body heat, and hoped that he wouldn’t be waking Richie up from sleeping. It was a school night, and he supposed the conversation could wait until third period when Richie had class and he didn’t and they could sit in the empty auditorium and do whatever. But Eddie felt like he had to talk to him now.

On school nights, Richie was usually doing one of two things: sleeping, as he had been the second he walked into the house and taken his red converse off, or saving sleep for that beautiful three-hour period between 4 and 7 am so he could finish up procrastinated homework and could be found at 12:43 at his window as Eddie was now, maybe smoking a cigarette or maybe just feeling the cool air on his warm cheeks.

Although Eddie hated when Richie didn’t get enough sleep, he’d feel even worse if he would be interrupting him if he’d already passed out. Richie and Eddie talked on the phone late at night at least every other night, but it was almost always planned and usually not this late. It was rare for Eddie to stay up past 11.

He typed the memorized number onto the plastic-y buttons of the handset, the familiar song of the buttons in that exact order echoing in his ears as he put the receiver to them. After two rings, not Richie’s voice but his father's.

“Who’s calling this late?” a deeper voice said, not angry but definitely stern.

“O-oh, hi Mr. Tozier. It’s Eddie… Richie’s friend. I’m sorry for calling so late it’s just-- is Richie asleep?”

“Not sure.” Went pulled the phone away from his face and Eddie heard a vague calling of “Richard! Pick up the phone,” and then a click as he exited the only conversation he had ever had or probably would have with Eddie Kaspbrak.

Eddie heard a breath flow into the speaker of his phone before hearing the familiar, “Hey, Eds!” Eddie could tell he was wide awake, he just noted that his father hadn’t bothered to say it was too late to be talking on the phone. “Why ya calling so late? Did you miss meeeeee?” Richie said gleefully, making kissy noises into the phone.

Eddie felt any stiffness in his back that kept him sitting up straight start to melt as it always did when Richie talked to him. He could just relax.

“Of course not, you nerd. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Isn’t that kinda like the same thing?” Eddie could hear Richie’s upturned smile weaving its way into his words through the phone. Eddie could always hear Richie’s smile just as much as he could see it. It made him smile, too.

Eddie laughed at his question. “It might be.”

Richie laughed too. “Well, you know I always mish you when we’re apart, shweetheart.” His Humphrey Bogart impression had gotten a bit better since he was 12; his voice getting deeper helped a bit. “I really did though! In fact, you should come over. I don’t feel like doing homework anyways.”

“Rich, we have school tomorrow,” Eddie sighed into the phone. Honestly, he wish he could have gone over.

“Yeah, but so what? We can sleep in through first period, and you know I can forge a pretty good late pass.”

“If my mom sees that I’m gone on a school night she’ll really think I ran away this time. She’s already flipping out on me that I’m never home anymore.” Eddie contemplated how he felt on what was happening between him and his mother. “I mean, of course it’s probably better for me this way. I feel bad for hurting her though, yknow?”

“I get it, but you know she’s the worst Eddie. Like, honestly you shouldn’t have to feel bad. The only thing you should be worried about in regards to her is making sure she takes her Plan B after I leave in the morning.” Richie whooped into the phone and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Very funny, dumb ass.”

“But I’m being serious. She treats you like shit and she’s a huge bitch to you. I know I shouldn’t say that about my future mother-in-law, but you of all people should know she’s… kinda the worst, dude. Honestly, I don’t think you’re obligated to treat her well at all. She makes you feel bad, which means she’s a bad person. So don’t feel guilty.”

Eddie felt that same hot redness flush across his skin. “Mother-in-law?” he chimed, passing in a sly comment to cover up his heart beating in his throat. He smiled. “What makes you think I’d marry you, huh?”

“If you said no to a proposal from the Richie Tozier, you’d be the biggest idiot alive.”

“I guess it takes one to know one.”

They laughed at the same time, Richie unabashedly booming through his room while Eddie had to remind himself what time it was and cover his giggles into the palm of his hand. There was a silence, comfortable and warm, broken by a cough coming from Richie.

“Are you smoking out your window right now?” Eddie said, picturing the boy leaning his elbow on the window sill, phone trapped between his ear and shoulder as he flicked ashes onto the grass below his window. A position his brain had memorized.

“You know me so well! Yeah, I… I’m actually on my second pack in the last two days,” Richie said guiltily. He knew Eddie didn’t mind him smoking, (as long as it wasn’t near him; it sometimes made his asthma bad) he just worried it'd hurt Richie's lungs. Eddie knew how much it sucked to have problems breathing. Eddie had actually been doing a decent job on persuading him to try and smoke only 1 cigarette a day and Richie even found himself skipping days altogether when he had been feeling really happy. Eddie wondered what had happened.

“Is… something wrong, Richie?” Eddie furrowed his brows, starting to worry.

“Well, uh.” Richie paused, taking in another breath and clearing his throat. Unknown to Eddie, Richie had put his cigarette out and took the back of that hand to wipe his eyes quickly. He didn’t continue speaking.

“Richie, is it… your parents?” Eddie’s heart sped up, but for the wrong reasons.

Richie nodded his head before remembering Eddie couldn’t see him. “Uh, sorta. Yeah.”

Eddie checked the clock again. Almost 1. Richie had been right, though. Why should Eddie give a shit what his mom thinks?

“Do you think I’d get murdered if I took my bike to your place?” Sonia’s window was overlooking where Eddie’s car was normally parked. She’d see the lights for sure, and wake up in a panic.

“I can come with my car. I'll stay at the stop sign down the street.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon then. Get here safe.”

“I will... Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

#i really hope you guys are enjoying this!!!#richie #eddie #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stan uris #beverly marsh #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #it #it stephen king #it2017 #fanfic #must be a better word #chapter 11 #mine

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tellywoodtrash · 7 years ago

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ishqbaaz 06.09.17 lb

how is this “shivaay’s” gang? it’s literally chubby and a buncha other prepubescent little dudes. (literally. look at them. mooch bhi theek se nahi ugiii hai inki.) 😕😕😕

does shivaay have ANY friends????? i don’t thinkkkkkk so. ek toh aisi personality. upar se nkk ki tadi. ek daksh tha, woh toh psycho nikla. ek advay hai, but he’s too busy trying to set his wife on fire to come over for guys’ night. i’m telling you, this man has no friends. 🙄🙄🙄

who watches cricket match like this, as if it’s a horror movie? 😟😟😟

harneet’s love-lust-double-kasht for dhoni is showing clearly in the dialogue. 🙃🙃🙃

... that MIGHT be your heart problem, shivaay. have you taken your meds today? 😐😐😐

yeah. i was right. this has to do with a bachelor party, i think. 😬😬😬

lol girls watching film awards like it’s the pre-internet days and they don’t know who wins already. 🙄🙄🙄

pft. meta reference to how anika only likes kanji aankhon waale overacting waale fellows. 😆😆😆

lmaooooooo, billllllu so awkward at the party. #me 😂😂😂

“i’m kinda old for this, man.”

good that he’s aware.

oh god i have never found shivaay more relatable. but seriously, who over the age of 25 has the energy for parties like this? i salute your zest for life. i have literally never had it, and was using this “too old for this” line about shit like this since i was 17. 😣😣😣

arre, uncle toh bura maan gaye! 🤣🤣🤣

pfffffffffft. idiot. he’s pulling out his saturday night fever moves and literally proving how old he is. 😆😆😆

billu’s gonna get in hella trouble for his budhaape mein jawaani. 😋😋😋

lol, rudra is singing saathiyaaaaa. 😂😂😂

haaaaaaaaaaaaaate nakuul’s drunk acting. 😒😒😒

ok how long is it taking the girls to walk like 200 m? 😑😑😑

blue dress toh full on chance maar rahi hai. behen, na kar. ek toh yeh bada pakau aadmi hai. aur dusra, iski biwi entry maarne waali hai apne chandni chappal ke saath. 😬😬😬

oh boy, the chandni is about to come off. 😶😶😶

ok what right does bhavya have to look so devastated? 🙄🙄🙄

lol billu’s faaaaaaaaaaaaaace. 😂😂😂

girls be like DANCE WITH US IDIOTS. #plotTwist

waaah, wardrobe change for girls, magically! 😐😐😐

what a lovestruck billu. 😻😻😻

literally not interested in the ruvya nonsense, so can you stop ghusaoing them in between??? 😒😒😒

ANIKA TAKING INITIATIVE! ANIKA TAKING INITIATIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😍😍😍

was that a dream sequence? how have their clothes changed back? 🤔🤔🤔

ok lame dancing. fwdingggggggg. call me when there’s all-up-on-you grinding from shivika. 😏😏😏

WHY DO THE GIRLS’ OUTFITS KEEP SWITCHING BACK AND FORTHHHHHHHHHHH IT’S ANNOYING MEEEEEE 😤😤😤😤

wait what? and the scene is over? ugh what the helllll?!?! GIVE ME SEXY DANCINGGGGGGGGGG 😫😫😫

god billu, you a hot mess. grow up, man. 🙄🙄🙄

bhavya knows rudra super well and knows some fuck-up had to have happened. 😗😗😗

anika has too much faith in her stupidass pati tho. 🙄🙄🙄

nakuul’s hungover acting is even worse than his drunk acting. 😬😬😬

lmao MERE NAAM PE KYUN BILL PHAAD RAHE HO?!?!?! 🤣🤣🤣

why can’t you go check on them??? it’s literally the next room? 🤔🤔🤔

rikara nahi hai toh anika maiyya has to do matchmaking for next available couple to get her jollies. 🙄🙄🙄

lol cutie. 😚😚😚

bhavyaaaaa you’re so cute. why you agonising over this fucking idiot though? ugh, i really wish they weren’t trying to force this. 😣😣😣

nakuul’s added a new actor to his repertoire of mimicry: saif ali khan 😑😑😑

natasha seems to have met her maker. RIP natasha. ☠☠☠

bhavya, i have zero sympathy for your issues. you’re into a immature fuckboy; either acknowledge the attraction or get over it and find yourself an age appropriate man. awaiiii ka naatak. 😑😑😑

natasha’s make up has held up remarkably, even in death. 😯😯😯

rudra is missing. with the body. 😶😶😶

idiots.

bhavya’s acp spidey senses are tingling. 😌😌😌

khooooooooooon! the woman is a bloodhound. literally. 😧😧😧

natasha’s looking very animated for someone who’s dead. 🙄🙄🙄

dude her make up has held up so well. i am so fucking impressed. also she looks a little bit like a desi chrissy teigen no? 🙃🙃🙃

dadi is so progressive about natasha’s drinking. she’s like “dhyaan rakh puttar, utni piyo jis se nuksaan na ho.” +100 to dadi today! 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

what khaane ke liye neecho aao, anika and bhavya just said they returned from breakfast. 🤔🤔🤔

these two fucking idiots.

lol the girls’ faces though. 😂😂😂

ok tej, it’s obvious that’s svetlana. honestly. 😒😒😒

whatever. i don’t care. gimme rikara. 😐😐😐

ouff back to rudra and his bs. 😑😑😑

lmao chubby thinks rudra was overpaid. i love how chubby is always giving rudra the truth. he’s a true friend. 😊😊😊

ouff, this lottery idea is hella lame. fwding. WHERE ARE RIKARA?????? 😤😤😤

mindlessly watching this jhanLana scene for svetlana’s flawless face. i love her so much. *kisses the screen* 😍😍😍😍

“jo kaam bataaye nahi jaa sakte woh aksar shady hote hai!”

satyavachan by bhavya pratap rathore. i really like this girl now. just... ouff, the unnecessary romance. 😣😣😣

oh she kept the money all sambhaal ke in a special box and all and looks hurt. oh bb. 😥😥😥

eeeee rikara. 😍😍😍

lol he’s the one limping and he’s telling HER “aaraam se”. 😆😆😆

ouff tauji and balram are back. yet i don’t see the murti. where is the damn murtiiiiiiiiiiiiiii? 😠😠😠

CAN BALRAM DECIDE ONCE AND FOR ALL WHAT TO CALL MR. PINK PAGDI? HE WAS CALLING HIM TAUJI, NOW HE’S CALLING HIM BAPU. NEITHER OF THOSE ARE WHAT YOU CALL YOUR GRANDFATHER??????? 😣😣😣😣😣

waah tauji is suddenly on team rikara.

balram is closer to omkara’s face than gauri has ever been. haven’t seen such homoerotic sexual tension since the days ranveer used to keep getting all up in om’s face and stare at him soullllfullly. 😚😚😚

GIVE US THE DAMN MURRRRRRRRRRRRTIIIIIIIII

fucking finally. 😒😒😒

uncleji toh humari tarah rikara shipper nikle. 😌😌😌

sanskaari bachche pair choo-ing and all. waah.

‘how to get this hottie to myself, away from the cute and fighty wife?’

lol zero sympathy for tej. fuck him up, queen! 😈😈😈

omfg she’s doing what literally EVERY south indian parent threatens to do when kids are being annoyinggggg - burn you with the metal dosa flipper. lmao amazingggggggggg. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

i now accept svetlana into our fold as an honorary south indian. 😊😊😊😎😎😎

WHAT NEW BIGGEST RAAZ OF SVETLANA IS HIDDEN IN OBEROI MANSION??????????????? 😧😧😧

ouff these two idiots. 😣😣😣

these two are obviously gonna lose on the laaaast number. 🙄🙄🙄

yupppppppppppppp. 😐😐😐

LMAO 50 RS KA PRIZE MILA. 450 KA GHAATA.

“mujheee barbaaad karke tu gym jaa raha haiiiiii???” snorttttttt. 🤣🤣🤣

ok how many layers is om wearing. i’m feeeling stuffy looking at him. 😓😓😓

that light blue shirt reallllllllly suits him though. *makes kissy faces at him* 😍😍😍😘😘😘😚😚😚💖💖💖💖

“saara samaaan le liyaaa naa?” so husbandlyyyy. so kiss-worthyyyy. i love when he makes that squinty face. idk why i find it hella attractive.

there’s a new softnesssss in the way he looks at her nowww. kunaaaaaal. what even are your eyessss. 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

“pyaar aisa hona chahiye. hai na?” “woh pehelwaan bhi aisa hi kuch keh raha tha. HUMAARE BAARE MEIN.”

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee omkara breaching the topic! yes! yes!!!! 😭😭😭😭

apni chiraiyya bhi confident. direct mooh pe sawaal about what he thinks about love. i love it. god, give me 2% of her confidence. 😇😇😇

shuru ho gaya is bakre ka “main main”. ouff. 😒😒😒

OMKARA YOU LIAR YOU THINK ABOUT LOVE ALL THE TIME YOU WRITE POETRY ABOUT IT YOU’RE SO HAPPY FOR YOUR BROTHER THAT HE FINALLY FOUND IT PFFFFFFFT 😤😤😤

awww, bulbul’s face falling. my girl. *hugs her tightly* 😔😔😔

“ek baat hai... humari jodi sahi hai.”

pfffffffffft. tell her you want to kiss her and write poetry about her eyes, you idiot. 😒😒😒

gauri like WHY GOD HAVE YOU STUCK ME WITH THIS TACTLESS FOOL 😫😫😫😪😪😪

proof that shivaay and omki are definitely brothers. they make the same faces when they have no answers and are fumbling fools who are fucking up. 😊😊😊

oh boy, om’s bleeeeeeeeeding. 😬😬😬

bhavya serving up some realness about how rudra is incapable of hard work and earning money the right way. preach girl. 🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽

#ishqbaaz #ishqbaaaz #ib episode liveblogs #episode liveblogs #060917 ib lb

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moonprincess92 · 7 years ago

Text

A family can be 2 traumatised soldiers and their 30 kids (3)

1, 2

Read on AO3

Part 3

It seemed that most of Echo One was in awe of Sergeant Jyn Erso.

The youth class had gone from something soldiers were practically scared of, a place you were banished to, or something almost akin to punishment … to the most requested group of recruits to work with out of the entire base. It was hard not to feel proud after having watched them grow and learn over the past several months.

She tried to get the class out of their room as much as possible. Once, she sent them on a scavenger hunt throughout the entire base, just for a lack of something to do. Sometimes, they piled on jackets and went out into the freezing snow and acted out mock battles. The pilots seemed to love it when she would take them to look at the x- and y-wings, so she often took them through the hangar.

“Right, kids! Who can remember all the different parts?” Luke Skywalker would ask enthusiastically every single time.

It … it wasn’t the life Jyn had ever thought she would have. But she felt like it was still good. Her pages of notes were endless now, the walls almost unable to be seen, and she felt proud even at her kids’ tiniest achievements. Like when Vance had finally managed to win a sparring match, or when Lyle was thoughtful enough to comfort Dan when he had sprained his ankle, or Warrin when he had read an entire sentence without getting side-tracked once.

She felt for these children almost like they were her own. She was kind of ok with that.

“Jyn,” she felt little Arlo tugging on her shirt. “I gotta poo.”

Only the words ‘the Empire has found us’ could induce more immediate action. Jyn quickly crouched down to Arlo’s level, “Ok, then go to the toilet.”

“But I want you to come with meeeeee …”

“Arlo, we’ve been through this,” Jyn sighed, her head dropping. “The refresher’s just down the hall–”

“I’M POOING NOW.”

“ARLO,” Jyn stood hastily, grabbing the boy’s hand. “Ok, ok, fine I’ll come with you!”

Thankfully, they made it to the refresher in time. Arlo sang to himself as he sat in the cubicle, Jyn leaning against the open doorframe to the refresher, attempting to at least keep an ear out for the rest of the kids back in the classroom. She really needed to come up with some kind of buddy system for Arlo so that she wouldn’t have to come with him every goddamn time. Calling out an encouragement to the boy, she checked her commlink as something to do, only to find that there was a missed message. It made her pause.

If she wasn’t mistaken, it was from General Draven.

Why in the hell he would want anything to do with her was utterly beyond Jyn. He quite famously didn’t like her and it would absolutely be in her best interests to just ignore it … however, her curiosity eventually won out. She called back, and he answered gruffly and very impatiently.

“Finally! Sergeant Erso, I’ve been waiting for an answer all damn day.”

“Sorry, I’ve been a bit busy making sure these kids don’t shit themselves,” Jyn said, dryly.

“WHAT DOES SHIT MEAN?” Arlo yelled at her.

Jyn chose to ignore that as Draven clearly was unimpressed down his end. Without any kind of preamble, he said furiously, “I’ve been trying to contact Captain Andor all day – is he with you? Because if so, tell him to get his ass back here immediately–”

“Captain Andor sure as hell isn’t with me,” Jyn frowned. “He hasn’t even left the sickbay yet–”

“He was discharged this morning,” Draven cut in with an air of I don’t have kriffing time for this, Erso.

But she stayed silent. She’d understood that Cassian was due to be discharged today, but they’d already agreed days ago to wait until she’d finished class for the day so that she could be there. Why … why would he leave without her? It didn’t sit right. Jyn stuck her head back into the refresher, ensuring that Arlo was finishing up now, before quickly snapping back at Draven,

“Look, I don’t know where he is, so your time would be better spent harassing someone else. If you’ll excuse me, I have a class to teach.”

“Jyn?”

She glanced down to see Arlo watching her curiously. Jyn immediately put on a brighter look and held out her hand for him to take. “You’re all finished?” she asked.

“I did poos!” Arlo grinned.

“Good. Let’s go back to class.”

She shouldn’t worry.

Cassian was stubborn, but not stupid. He had been itching to get out of the sickbay ever since he’d been put there, and honestly his blow to the head really hadn’t been that serious compared to other injuries he’d had in the past. Technically no, Jyn probably didn’t need to be there at all, and she was sure that there had to be a good reason for him to leave without telling her … it still just rankled slightly. Threw her off, made her uneasy. She forced herself to not let it show on her face all day until finally, she was dropping the kids back off at their barracks. She immediately turned around and stormed for their bedroom.

He wasn’t there. He also wasn’t in the mess hall, war room or Intelligence HQ. By the time she did finally find him, hiding somewhere in a corner of the hangar, she was cold, tired, and more than slightly pissed off.

“Cassian! Is this where you’ve been all damn day?” she called out, spotting him half-hidden behind a stack stolen weapons that had been recently smuggled in. He looked up from his datapad, eyes wide as she stormed towards him. “Draven’s pissed as hell looking for you, why did you leave the sickbay without–?”

“I’m sorry Draven got mad at you,” he said.

Jyn watched him in bewilderment. “But not sorry that you left the sickbay?”

He just shrugged, apparently unable to look at her. She knew that his head injury had been a bit of a shock to the system, but his face was unnaturally pale as she watched him sit there, knuckles tense as hell around the datapad. She took a tentative step forward, but he quickly clambered off the crate he was sitting on. “I’m ok, Jyn,” he insisted, before suddenly brushing around her and walking away.

Jyn stared after him, anxiety churning in her stomach.

I didn’t ask if you were ok.

Belatedly, Jyn realised that the sound she had heard was the door opening.

She was somewhere between awake and asleep and should have felt glad. Cassian was back. He was on base with her and he was coming to bed, but all she could feel was something blocking her throat, closing it over. She struggled to get her heart back under control, facing the wall and ignoring the temptation to move. There was no point in moving, besides.

She listened to the pull of fabric, the movements lethargic, clumsy. Slowly, footsteps made their way to the bunk, his body sinking into the mattress behind her. It wasn’t like they usually slept wrapped around each other. Sometimes it was nice when the nightmares called for it, but most often she would have been content with just blindly stretching a hand back, squeezing his hip or thigh or whatever body part she could reach. Letting him know that she was there, waiting for the responding caress of his hand on hers before retreating.

But she didn’t.

She wanted to roll over. Wrap an arm around his torso, press her face into his shoulder blades, maybe kiss the skin there a little. She wanted to hold him. She needed something to hold onto …

But she didn’t.

This was supposed to be their second chance. The Force had allowed them to live (or so she sometimes believed) and she would never forget that moment on the beach. She wouldn’t forget the regret and the remorse over a lifetime that wasn’t to be theirs, clinging to his body as if that might make it all better. Perhaps in another universe they had died, but somehow in this one here they were and all they could do was the best they could. Healing took time, and they had been getting somewhere together. They’d been getting better. This was supposed to be their time.

But ever since returning from that mission, she had only been able to watch helplessly as he descended into something that he apparently couldn’t escape from.

Something had clearly gone terribly wrong that day. Cassian was retreating into himself, something she’d never seen him do before now. He stopped volunteering to help out with the youth class and made excuses every time Jyn tried. Eventually, she stopped asking. If they happened to come across each other in the corridors, he would somehow find something that required his full attention. He never showed up in the crowded mess hall anymore for dinner. The only times she ever really saw him was at night, always when he was finally slinking in at an hour that she should definitely already be asleep by. She couldn’t even be comforted by those moments when they were side by side again. She was always left waiting in the dark.

Had she been less aware, Jyn might have thought this behaviour was exclusive to just her. But she knew him. She knew Cassian Andor, his passion for the rebellion and the ability to power through shit like a machine. She had to know Cassian by now and whatever the hell this was … it wasn’t normal.

He wasn’t ok.

“How to help people,” Jyn announced. The children sat in a large circle with her around the edge of the mat as Jyn spread out the large sheet of paper and wrote ‘how to help’ in large block letters across the top. “Sometimes, it’s hard. Sometimes, people don’t want you to help them. We have to think very hard about what to do sometimes, so that’s our lesson for this morning. Has anyone ever helped someone else before?”

Several voices called out at once before Jyn could hastily remind them to put up their hands if they wanted to say anything. She called on Carina, who announced, “I helped Kady with her aim yesterday!”

“Good – Kady’s aim is getting better every day,” Jyn praised, and luckily the other girl could now understand her words. “Anyone else?”

The answers came thick and fast – I helped Ava finish eating her dinner, I helped Lyle put on his coat, I helped a soldier by telling him the best way to get to the gym – but when she posed her next question, the children had to think for several moments. “How do we help?”

Many seemed to want to just name more examples, but Jyn needed to get down to the very basics of what ‘helping’ meant. Luckily it was Aden who said, “We help by listening.”

Jyn smiled and handed over the marker in her hands. “Good start. Write it down. What does Aden mean by ‘we help by listening’? Trina–?”

“We have to listen to the person we’re helping?” she asked. “Because then we know what they need us to do?”

“Great point – you can write that down once Aden’s finished,” Jyn told her. “Anyone else know how we help people?”

“We need to understand them,” Rivi was the next to answer, surprisingly articulate for the girl who was usually very much all about herself. “’cause like, everyone’s different and some people might want you to help by talking to them and some don’t. I’ll always remember this one time when the Queen of Provi once–”

“Shut uuuuup, you’ve never even met the Queen of Provi,” Vance rolled his eyes next to her.

“FINE,” Rivi sighed.

“Vance just demonstrated that really well, guys,” Jyn pointed out. “Rivi sometimes needs help remembering not to lie, and Vance knew to do it by just telling her. He understands her really well.”

The two now 14-year-olds exchanged slightly embarrassed looks.

Throughout the lesson, Jyn noticed that there was one who never spoke. Not speaking up was fairly normal for a number of the children whose first languages were not basic, but Talek she knew understood her perfectly.

She had struggled to get to know the boy who she could still remember first being brought to the rebellion. It was like he’d never quite recovered from whatever it was that had resulted in him being here. Like Ann, he stayed in the background, but the similarities ended there. Ann was quiet, but loved her older siblings very much, and would still smile and chat to Jyn about her day. Talek, on the other hand, Jyn didn’t think she’d ever heard more than five words from.

His eyes were always sullen underneath his wild dark hair and in a way, he reminded her a little of Cassian. Stubborn, and unwilling to let on how much he was actually hurting. Jyn had been silently observing the 12 – hell, maybe 13-year-old by this point, she’d never exactly managed to get much else out of him – ever since she had taken over this class, and only recently had she finally thought that she might know enough to actually help him.

“Hello, Talek,” she said quietly.

She sat down next to him, their backs to the wall. The helping poster was currently in the process of being newly added to the walls, Jessa yelling at Arlo and some of the other little ones for almost ripping it. So far, Jyn had always left Talek alone, in fear of forcing the boy to talk when he didn’t want to, but the tactic was clearly not working. She still didn’t understand him, didn’t know how his mind worked, but if she wanted to help … she needed to know.

“I have a friend,” she kept her voice low. Calm. She kept space between them and kept her eyes on the rest of the children. “You know him, Captain Andor. I think I might need some advice, Talek, because Captain Andor is very upset about something that happened on his latest mission and I don’t know what to do.”

From the corner of her eye, Jyn noticed Talek glance at her a little. It was the most acknowledgement she would usually ever get from the boy. “Captain Andor isn’t very good at talking about what’s bothering him,” she simply carried on. “I’m not either, really. It’s easy to keep things inside, but Captain Andor isn’t getting better. Do you know what I should do to help him?”

No answer, but Jyn expected that. She used the silence as an opportunity to call out to Reno, warn him that his card would change colour unless he stopped pushing the younger children out of his way. Lyle dashed up to her at one point to excitedly ramble about the scribble writing he had added to the helping poster. Talek watched all the interactions with his usual blank face until quite suddenly, he spoke.

“Talk to him.”

It took all of Jyn’s self-control to not cry on the spot.

“Ok. I should … talk to Captain Andor,” she instead struggled to keep her voice calm (Talek is taking to me, Talek is talking to me, the Force must be with us).

“Yes.”

Talek didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t need to. He might not interact with any of the other children, but Jyn knew that the boy was a hell of a listener. He would watch and take things in and she knew that he was still inside there somewhere. It was going to be a long process, but Jyn was certain that he would eventually make it through whatever it was that had happened to him.

That night, when Cassian crawled into bed, Jyn reached out.

She had been treating him like Talek. Aware that he was clearly dealing with something and not wanting to interrupt that internal process, only it wasn’t the kind of help he needed. She rolled over quietly, watching the back of his head next to her. She had attempted this several times only to have him flinch away from her, but she wouldn't let it get brushed aside anymore. Jyn curled her arm around him from behind and squeezed tight. She felt him jump, felt the muscles tense underneath the skin. Though while she half-expected him to yank himself out of bed just to get away from her, he instead stayed stock still.

“Cassian,” she whispered into his hair. “I’m here.”

He stayed frozen for so long that she almost fell asleep. Drifting almost into unconsciousness, she was brought back when suddenly, he rolled over to face her. His arms wrapped around her and Jyn barely held it together when he answered quietly,

“I know.”

“I’m glad we’re both here,” Jyn kept her voice even as they trudged through the snow. Nothing was perfect of course, because how could it possibly be expected that a year after Scarif everything was just magically better again?

The anniversary was today. A full standard year after the death and the trauma, and they were still bearing their own scars.

But Jyn had Cassian at her side, and that was what mattered most to her right that moment. She was coming to think of the youth class as her second bedroom – the kids were growing up, and a few new children had arrived within the last few weeks – but she did admittedly need space away from them every night to recuperate. She had tentatively asked Cassian to walk with her, and he had thankfully said yes.

They huffed up the small hill, not far from the north entrance to Echo One. The ice was softer up here thanks to recent snowfall, which made it nicer to sit down though it was bulky in their water-proof gear. It was that uncomfortable state of being hot from the climb, but freezing in her nose and toes. She watched as Cassian dropped next to her, their backs to the base and facing out into the endless tundra in front of them.

His beard may be unkempt and his hair unwashed, but he was still so beautiful her heart raced.

“Do you ever think about them?” he asked, quietly.

She didn’t have to ask who ‘them’ was. “I do,” she answered.

“How often?”

“It’s getting less and less,” Jyn admitted. “Though when I knew the anniversary was going to hit soon, I didn’t – I didn’t sleep so well – but you know that.”

“I do,” He knew all about how she had woken screaming or sobbing every night the last entire week. None of this had been easy. “I think about … I don’t know. A lot of things.”

“Cassian,” she hesitantly leaned in, pressing her side up against his a little. “What … what happened on that mission?”

He sighed. Scarif was plaguing both their minds, but it was the mission that was still hanging over them both, and Jyn still didn’t understand entirely what had gone wrong. He had finally admitted that he wasn't ok and she had deduced somewhere between the lines that someone had died, but every team member had come back to base, so she was somewhere at a loss. She had just spent the last couple weeks employing the tactic she was using with Talek: stay by their side, let them know she was listening until they were ready to speak.

Apparently, Cassian was ready.

“You … you know that we’d technically already completed the main mission,” he began, bending his knees and resting his arms on them. “But the Head Director at the Imperial warehouse we were watching announced unexpectedly that he was leaving the base to attend an event across town. We were kept on to take advantage of it. There was coding Intel that the Alliance wanted. They’d apparently been about to forget about it because of the logistics of getting at it, but with the director gone, a huge obstacle was out of the way. It was the opportunity we needed.”

Jyn held her breath, waiting for the punchline. Cassian spoke to the snow. “I was on the perimeter. We had timed it all, but half the team were still inside when suddenly, the director came back out of nowhere. It was complete chaos, Jyn. Alarms went off, Imperial workers started pouring out of the building … our instructions, should we fail to get the intel, was to take out the director and his direct subordinates, but that’s when I got hit in the head. I was dizzy, there were hundreds of people running and screaming and … I shot a civilian.”

Jyn let out a breath, leaning so far into him now that her head rested on his shoulder. She gripped his arm tightly. “It was an accident.”

“You don’t understand, I shot him,” Cassian’s voice was shaking. She had never heard him sound quite like it before. “It was a risk already and had the plan gone like it should have, I never would’ve attempted the shot. There’s no way I would have risked someone’s safety like that, but I did and I missed and I murdered him, Jyn – I had to go after the target – I had to leave him in the street – I don’t even know who he was–”

“It was an accident,” Jyn suddenly cut in. She turned her face into his shoulder, suddenly wishing that they were inside, that there weren’t several bulky jacket layers between them so that he could feel her there with him. “Cassian, you are not a murderer.”

He scoffed, bitterly. “You don’t know how many people I’ve killed for this war–”

“Fine, yes, this is different,” Jyn cut back in. “Yes, you should feel remorse. Yes, you’re allowed to grieve for him, and should carry on fighting for him, but Cassian, you can’t let him consume you. You hold onto guilt too well.”

He pressed his spare hand to his face a moment, roughly swiping at it. “You don’t–”

“Understand? The first time I killed someone, I was twelve,” Jyn retorted. “It was self-defence, I’d gotten into a little more than I could handle and had to fight for my life, but I still blasted his brains out. He would have killed me, but I still cried for weeks after.”

He seemed to sober a little at the sudden delve into Jyn’s past. She hadn’t thought of the memory in a long time, but it was one she still remembered with vivid clarity. Twelve was still so impressionably young, she couldn’t ever imagine Talek or any one of the other kids having to go through such a thing at their age. The fact that she was still here today was incredible.

“That wasn’t the last time, either,” Jyn added. “I’ve killed for a lot of reasons. Mostly to protect myself or others, but I stabbed someone once just because they were an Empire-sympathising bigot and they had annoyed me. Cassian … you aren’t alone.”

She hoped more than anything that he believed that. He would never be alone. He turned his head and suddenly, they were eye-to-eye. She needed to get through to the man, and she told him the same words that he had once told her long ago:

“Cassian, you are worth something.”

He leaned down and his lips collided with hers.

She was startled by the movement. His hands were on her, his kiss suddenly doing things that she had only let herself imagine until now. He pressed hard, fast, but before she could even wrap her head around it, he was even more abruptly pulling away.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, rubbing a hand roughly over his face. “I’m so sorry, Jyn – that was – I shouldn’t have–”

“It’s ok,” she said.

But really, it was.

Every birthday in the youth class was something different. With so many cultures, Jyn had found herself baking cakes, looking up the lyrics to a variety of birthday songs, learning birthday dances and chants and even had to try and figure out how to create a birthday braid once.

“Jyn, I am certain my hair’s not long enough for this–” Cassian had complained as she consulted the datapad.

“Shut up, this is how they do it in Azha’s culture, now let me practice!” She had yanked on his hair once more.

Malia’s 18th birthday was thankfully just a cake with 18 candles, but this was a special birthday. That night, she was officially enlisting in the Rebel Alliance, and though the cake probably had something to do with it, the children were screaming and bouncing off the walls with excitement.

“Malia’s gonna kill Imperials!” Reno cried.

“KILL IMPERIALS!” Caylen shrieked.

Jyn would have tried to contain the chaos, but the kids rarely got this excited about anything. She had downloaded several playlists of whatever music was currently most popular on Coruscant, and it was currently blasting throughout the small classroom. The younger kids jumped up and down, holding hands and shrieking, while the slightly older ones giggled and hung around the edges of the room. Jyn noticed Rivi trying not to look at Vance and Vance similarly pretending that he wasn’t currently edging towards her. Even Talek said thank you quietly when she had handed him his slice of cake.

Jyn watched Malia as she held now four-year-old Arlo in her arms, spinning him around delightfully to the music. She couldn’t have been prouder of the young woman. Jyn knew that Malia wanted to fight more than anything and that she had taught her well. Malia was more than capable, she was kind yet deadly, and she would make a fine soldier with the rebellion …

But with pride also came a fierce need to protect.

“She’ll be ok.”

Jyn turned and noticed Aden, who was munching on cake next to her. At 17, he and Tavisha were now the eldest of the youth class and Jyn knew he was good friends with Malia. “Girl is wicked!” Aden added, since Jyn was giving him the ‘keep talking’ look (only one of many looks Jyn had perfected over the last year or so). “Honestly, don’t worry, Jyn.”

“I’m not worried,” she said at once.

“Mmmkay. Sure,” Aden grinned. “Oh hey, how’s the Cap’n doin’?”

She narrowed her eyes at the boy. Aden she could count on to be charming and funny, but never stupid. He could lift an entire mood with one well-timed joke, but he was a lot smarter than he came off as. He always knew what was up. The wider he grinned, the more her suspicions suddenly racked up.

“… what do you know?”

“You wound me! I know nothing.”

“You little – I’ll change your card colour!”

“Over nothing?” Aden smirked. “Seems over the top, even for you.”

She could strangle him. “Your red card is no blaster training for a week.”

His smirk dropped a little. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me. You’re on yellow.”

“FINE,” he shoved the last of the cake in his mouth. “I saw you sucking face with him out in the snow the other day.”

She felt her stomach drop out. Oh, that. Just the kiss that they had swept aside, that they didn’t really talk about? The kiss that Jyn knew had just been a result of his screaming head and tumultuous emotions, that kiss.

“How … in the kriffing hell?” she said, blankly.

“WHOA, you’re not denying it!” Aden seemed amazed, almost choking on his frosting. “Tavisha totally owes me!”

“I repeat how in the kriffing hell?”

Clearly, the teenager knew her better than she’d thought. He caught the you're dead if you don't explain yourself right now look and he started talking immediately. “We saw you guys heading out somewhere, I swear it was Tavi’s idea to follow ya!” Aden swore on his heart. “You were a bit too far away for us to really tell, and the marshals at the hangar entrance wouldn’t let us go out without supervision, BUUUT I could’ve sworn I saw him kiss you at one point and I was right! GO ME!”

She was quite literally rendered speechless.

Jyn loved these kids. She did, she really did, but her face was burning and she had always been so determined to retain a poised and professional image around them. They needed to see her as a leader. Someone they could talk to, someone they could love, someone they could look up to and aspire to be. It was a hell of a mammoth task and most days, Jyn was certain Mothma had absolutely no idea how difficult this assignment actually was. After everything she'd had to deal with – being teased, being scratched and bitten, being vomited and shat on – she’d honestly thought that she was beyond embarrassment, but apparently not. She opened her mouth to take it all back at once, deny everything, except …

She glanced at Talek across the room. Since he didn’t talk or voluntarily interact with anyone, she often worried that the other children would exclude him. However, she watched as several of the young teenagers called out to him, asking him if he wanted to join. Slowly, he crossed the room. He silently stood amongst the group, not smiling, but surely listening intently. Jyn could only hope that she’d had some influence in teaching that kind of acceptance to these kids. They deserved to have a role model who wasn’t just calm in the face of disaster, but someone who showed them that it was ok to feel, and it was ok to express it.

Damn it, these kids would be soldiers someday, and to be a soldier meant clear-cut ethics, to be able to put aside feelings and emotions. It meant being forced to look at a Stormtrooper and think ‘it’s not a human being, it’s just another target’. It meant having to leave comrades behind, staying silent under torture, and being able to put aside trauma to just carry on. She refused to let these kids grow up into her and Cassian, certifiably fucked up almost beyond repair, because of the things they’d seen and done.

These kids needed to know how to care. They needed to know that emotions were ok and that having them made you human. That even though this war would try and drive it out of them, under no circumstances were they allowed to forget that they could cry if they needed to.

Sometimes, she really hated being a role model.

“Fine,” she huffed. “I neither confirm nor deny what may or may not have happened out in the snow, but … I like Captain Andor a lot. That’s not a secret.”

“Yeah, but how muuuuch?” Aden warbled.

“Everything you’re imagining and more,” she rolled her eyes. “Now stop harassing me and get back to eating cake with your insane friends, ok?”

Aden just laughed and hugged her.

Cassian healed slowly, over time.

Used to him regularly being on and off-base and lately, avoiding her completely, she was slightly thrown at him suddenly always being around. He always tried to make himself look busy, but she knew that he hadn’t taken another mission at all since the last time. Quite honestly, he seemed a little lost. It was almost like he was floundering when all he wanted was just something to hold onto. So when a mission landed with eight more new children – apparently survivors of a school being bombed and having nowhere else to go – Jyn immediately asked Cassian to help her.

“You want me to … help teach your class?”

“I’m getting more kids faster than the older ones are growing out of it,” Jyn nodded. “There’s over thirty of them now, I could use the help.”

So he came. The kids always screamed and cheered whenever he walked in, especially if he let the younger ones hold his blaster, so she knew they’d be receptive to him being there more regularly. Honestly, it was perfect for everyone involved.

However, even though she had suggested it, she would admit that she still felt a little irrationally possessive of the class. They were her kids. She understood them, she knew what they needed, and a part of her wanted to hold onto them and not let in anyone else. But she was being run haggard and she knew it. The young ones needed a lot of attention, and she was constantly worried that the elder would be neglected because of it. With Cassian, the work could be divided, actually be manageable.

And he soon proved himself to be quite remarkable.

One afternoon, after bringing back the older teens from their physical training, it was to find Cassian sat on the floor, surrounded by tiny children. Arlo was no longer the youngest now, a small two-year-old having been brought to them a couple of weeks ago, and she was currently curled up in Cassian’s lap, eyes drooping. Cassian was apparently attempting to read a story to the children, but he kept getting distracted by a few of them rolling around on the floor, or Lyle hanging over his back and talking loudly in Festian. Jyn almost laughed.

“How’s it going?” she called over.

She was imagining a look of blind panic, but to her utter surprise, Cassian seemed content as he glanced up. “It’s good,” he said. “I think Bree is going to need naps, though, she hasn’t been able to keep her eyes open since lunch.”

Her heart lurched a little.

Jyn didn’t bother coercing Mothma this time. She and Cassian just went ahead and knocked down a part of the classroom wall. The room next to theirs was apparently nothing but storage and was barely being used anyway, so they turned it into more space for the youth class. Jyn watched over the next couple of weeks as Cassian slowly took to the younger children. They all helped re-model the new classroom next door, throwing out broken furniture and playing with the gear that was being stored there, dressing up in the jackets and helmets and running around, pretending to shoot each other. Cassian would catch her look every time.

(“Half of them probably won’t even survive past 18.”

“It’s ok.”

“It’s not, it’s not–”)

With two groups, their day was suddenly much more manageable. Jyn stayed in the original classroom with the older children, while Cassian took the younger next door. At age 12 they decided it would be appropriate to transition them from one room to another. Jyn was able to concentrate on the teens who needed her support and dedication, able to watch them and interact with them more closely and teach them the physical skills that they would need to join the war.

“Because this IS a war,” she said as they all sat in a circle. “I know everything can be nice and safe in here, but out there it’s a battle zone, and I need you to all understand how this is going to play out someday.”

She led daily conversations with the teens and this was the one she usually came back to, but never had she explicitly talked about her own experiences in a battle zone before. Scarif had been so long ago now and she still remembered every detail, but she hadn’t wanted to put the image in their heads. She was unprepared when Lahrin, a fifteen-year-old with a tendency to steal things, asked her snidely,

“Yeah, but like you can talk. Have you ever even fought before?”

Her heart slammed as she looked around the circle of impressionable faces. She couldn’t lie, not today. She turned directly to Lahrin and said,

“Have you heard of Scarif?”

She seemed a little thrown and shook her head. A couple of the kids who’d been with her since the start – Jessa, Dan, Aden – immediately started explaining excitedly over the enthusiasm from the others. She heard phrases like ‘Death Star’ and ‘plans’ and ‘exploded!’ until eventually she cut in.

“Hey! Listening, thank you,” They settled quickly. Jyn was struggling to remain calm, but she carried on, “For those who don’t know, Scarif was a planet in Imperial territory up until about 1 and a bit years ago now. The Death Star was a battle station that the Empire was building. It had the ability to destroy worlds and it was naturally a major threat to the rebellion. The Rebel Alliance learned there were schematic plans of the Death Star that revealed a way to destroy it in the archives on Scarif. They organised a mission to steal the plans.”

It was a simple way of putting it and it painted the rebellion in a nice light (they organised it her ass) but this wasn’t the time and place for that story. This was about her. This was her story.

“Captain Andor and I were the ones who led that mission.”

“Oh my god, seriously?” Vance was wide-eyed. “I didn’t know that!”

Lahrin seemed a little chagrined from her earlier comments. She was looking at Jyn in awe. “So you fought to get the plans?”

“Yes,” Jyn had to lock her fingers together, they were shaking so bad. “I need you all to understand … I haven’t spoken about this out loud to anyone other than Captain Andor since it happened. I’m going to tell you what played out with as little censoring as possible, but I need you to understand that if I stop talking at any point, or simply can’t keep doing it, I’m sorry.”

They listened in sobered silence. Jyn told them everything. She explained how she, Cassian and K-2SO had infiltrated the tower to find the plans. She spoke of Bodhi, their pilot who had remained resilient and brave every step of the way, even though she was sure he must have been terrified. She spoke of the annoying, sarcastic droid, who gave its life to buy them more time. She told them of Baze and Chirrut, the guardians who had followed her into battle despite everything. She told them of the hundreds of soldiers who had died that day, about the explosions she had run through, the men she had faced down, the injuries she’d gotten and her fear when she’d thought Cassian was dead as well.

It had to be the first time she had honestly ever let herself think of them. The first anniversary of the battle had come and gone, and Jyn had solely focused on Cassian the entire time. She’d been doing so well as she focused on teaching the youth class that she'd just ignored the sleep troubles, but the truth was that there was always going to be a point where she needed to just get it all out. She had started crying somewhere around explaining how Bodhi had died and the tears remained until she was finally finished. It was only then when she glanced down and realised that the two teens who were the closest to her – Rivi on one side, and a newcomer, Geron, on the other – had apparently taken her hands at some point.

She didn’t say anything else. There was nothing more to be said.

General Draven didn’t exactly take to the idea of Cassian assigning himself to the youth class.

“You weren’t given permission to discharge yourself, Captain Andor!” he said, hotly.

“What, exactly, have I discharged from?” Cassian argued back. “Have I defected? Have I betrayed the rebellion, do I no longer work for the Rebel Alliance? No. I won’t do field work anymore, and Jyn needs the help, so–”

“You don’t get to decide!”

“The hell I don’t,” Cassian said, furiously. “I’ve given enough of my life to this rebellion, I can do whatever I damn well please, otherwise I may just defect after all.”

“I don’t think Draven liked the threat very much …” Jyn pointed out as she ran after him storming away from Intelligence HQ.

Cassian muttered something in Festian which Jyn was certain wasn’t very positive towards General Draven. She almost laughed, running to catch up.

“You seriously don’t mind permanently taking over the little kids?”

“They need me,” Cassian told her. “Jyn, I was serious when I said nothing more in the field. I can’t … I wouldn’t be able to take much more. I’ve done my part, now it’s time to step back, let others take over.”

The kids would be thrilled. A lot of them she supposed would have already assumed that Cassian was there to stay, and this announcement would be exciting to many. They coordinated together a lot, but Jyn also had plenty of opportunities to just watch Cassian from the adjoining door as he taught the younger kids. It wasn’t easy; like every person in the galaxy, they had baggage. Six-year-old Haley struggled with concentration, four-year-old Charlee kept pushing people see what kind of reaction she’d get, and tiny Bree suffered from the worst separation anxiety she’d ever seen (dropping the kids back off in their shared barracks at the end of every afternoon was a nightmare). But Cassian understood a lot of where these children came from, more than she had realised. He listened when he needed to. He could handle Ava when she was being clingy and wanted hugs every five seconds. He was firm whenever Trina screamed, and he would always dutifully play dress up or draw with anyone who asked.

He was a natural with them.

“I think …” Jyn shook her head a little, trying to clear the fog that he had caused there. Don’t kiss him, don’t you dare kiss him, you aren’t doing that here in a crowded corridor. “I think we need to run emergency drills again, we’ve had so many new children recently.”

Cassian took her topic change without question. There were a number of drills to practice – fire, earthquake, Imperial attack, base-wide power outage, emergency evacuation, etc. – that in those moments Jyn sometimes forgot that it was children she was trying to teach. She needed them to understand that the drills weren’t a game, that they were serious and could happen any time, so she often got cranky whenever they didn’t go so well (like Arlo crying hysterically the entire fire drill that one time). Maybe Cassian would help remind her that these were children.

They caught everyone unaware with their Imperial attack drill.

“BAM!” Jyn suddenly screamed, cutting herself off in the middle of a group discussion. “I just got the message that the Empire has breached atmo! Siren hasn’t gone off yet, WHAT DO YOU DO?!”

On her side of the classroom at least, her teens leapt into chaotic action. Aden and Tavisha immediately sprinted for the blaster racks along the side of the room, keying in the code (a code because Reno had once stolen one back when she’d been teaching this class all but a week). They started tossing the weapons to the others. Thirteen-year-old Neera was running around like a headless tauntaun, but Vance was yelling at everyone to get in formation. Jyn called to Aden, who immediately threw her a blaster. She ran to the front of the 12 now heavily-armed teens, taking her place as point. She aimed at the main door. If anything came through it, she would shoot in a heartbeat.

“AAAND … TIME!” Tavisha yelled, skidding into place just behind her.

Jyn hit the commlink. “At ease,” she called, turning to face the assembled teenagers. “Well done losers, that was almost two minutes! Empire’s already killed us all, great job.”

“Aw, Jynnnn …” Lahrin complained as the others all laughed.

Jyn just shoved the kid on the shoulder. “Get these back on the racks. You guys did good. We can do better, but … good.”

As the teens worked about resetting the classroom, Jyn went and slammed on the joining door to Cassian’s room. “I’M THE BIG BAD EMPIRE!” she roared through the barricade that the younger kids would have set up. “I shall blast your puny brains to smithereens!”

“Screw you, Vader!” a small tinny voice echoed through the barricade. Jyn grinned at the image of 11-year-old Reno crouched there on the other side, armed with a blaster and ready to kick ass. Now there was her little, slightly psychotic, delinquent.

“Captain Andor!” she called. “How’re you doing?”

“We are all safely hiding under tables!” Cassian yelled back. “Myself and the older kids are ready to fight if need be, but we will hide until the attack is over or an evacuation is called!”

“At ease!” Jyn called back, and she could hear the sudden excited chatter of the kids as they clambered out from under the tables and got to dismantling the barricades.

“It’s weird …” Jyn mentioned quietly, later that night. After the chaos of running emergency drills, the quiet of their room was staggering. She had already climbed into bed while Cassian was in the shower, and she spoke as he dried off and dressed. She let her voice carry through to the partially open door of the refresher and tried not to imagine him in there. “Today … you know, when we were running the Imperial attack drill … I realised I’d die for these kids.”

Cassian apparently thought for a moment.

“I mean, they’re a bunch of feral lunatics, but they’re my feral lunatics.”

He still didn’t say anything. Jyn wondered whether maybe she had scared him a little. She was certainly scaring herself. She hadn’t intended on caring so much about these kids, but it was kind of impossible not to. She knew their strengths and weaknesses, she knew their horror stories and nightmares, she knew their personalities and the things that made them them.

And they were amazing.

Eventually, he stuck his head out the refresher door. His expression was a little shaken, but he smiled at her.

“I’d die for them, too.”

#rebelcaptain #rebelcaptain fanfic #ro fanfic #rogue one fanfic #rogue one fanfiction #ro #rogue one #my fanfiction #a family can be #I HOPE U LIKE IT PLS REBLOG MY FIC XOXOXO #this is for everyone who has ever heard the phrase i gotta poo when there's no toilet within miles

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thejokersenigma · 8 years ago

Text

Joker x Reader Deadly Voice Part 32

Hey guys,

Here’s the next bit - I’ll apologise for any poor writing as I wrote most of this at 2am last night.

Again, its another long one - I just get a bit carried away with details etc. Sorry it’s not really a ‘fanfic’ as such anymore - more like a novel - I hope that’s alright - I know some people don’t like that thing on here and they want it more brief.

Maybe I’ll try to do that again on my next story.

Let me know what you think!

Hope you enjoy! :)

Masterlist

I froze when I heard his voice, my stomach dropping to my feet and I felt myself sobering up almost immediately.

Well that answered the question if he was alive or not.

“It’s odd.” The Joker sneered behind me and I twisted in my seat to look at him, “I don’t remember drinking that much.” He was exactly as I remembered him stood there. But this was more of him then I’d ever seen. He was wearing some low-riding sweatpants and that was it. His feet were bare and so was his entire torso apart from the tattoos littered across his skin. I swallowed thickly as admired his bleached skin and defined muscles, completely ignoring his words.

“You don’t usually sing for me either.” He contemplated to himself, “Must be a different type of drink tonight.”

Wait. What was he on about? Was he raving? I didn’t say anything too confused about what he was rambling on about and too paralysed by the fear – a deer caught in the headlights. Where was Frost?!

“Come on my little bird, sing for meeeeee!” he sneered before a demonic smile split his face and he let out a high, harsh cackle. I couldn’t move, his eyes and laughter pinning me in my half twisted position. I could feel my muscles aching and screaming for release from the prolonged uncomfortable position but I was petrified in place by him and was too scared of how he might react if I moved. Where was Frost?!

“PLLLLEEEEAAASSSSEEE!” He screeched at me, his teeth gritted together and his grin spreading even wider as he bowed forward at his waist, trying to invade as much of my personal space as possible without moving from he stood. He then abruptly swung himself backwards as he erupted into humourless chuckles.

I flinched at his sudden movements and loud roar of laughter. Was he drunk? Or was this what he was like now?! Oh God what had I done? Why hadn’t I been paying attention to what was going on around me? Frost said I would have been able to hear him, and then I could have hidden! I silently cursed myself - why had I drunk so much?! At the time the alcohol had truly seemed to help – it definitely calmed me – but it had worked too well and I had stopped caring about anything – including how much bloody noise a piano made!

Wait. The piano. The decanter was still on it.

Whilst the Joker was in his manic hysterics I slowly reached my left arm blindly behind me – attempting to not move the rest of my body in the process - until I came into contact with the top of the piano. I ran my hand cautiously along the rim of the instrument - all the time trying not to draw attention to myself with any excess movement that might snap the inebriated Joker out of his laughing fit.

Eventually my hand knocked against the glass body of the decanter and I slid my hand up and around the neck before carefully lifting it up moving it to my side so it was hidden behind my body. When I had it held securely to my side – and without taking my eyes off the Joker - I stood up as smoothly and confidently as I could. I didn’t want him to see that he was getting to me. I didn’t want to show him weakness. He would feed off of it.

He abruptly stopped laughing at my movement and pulled himself back up straight, facing me head on, “Whatcha got there doll?” he asked tilting his head and widening his eyes slightly at my hand that grasped the ornate bottle just out of sight behind my body. I didn’t say anything, only clutching the decanter tighter to my body as if it was my only lifeline – which it might be. Where was Frost?!

“Come on.” He urged patronisingly, holding out his hand to me like I was a cat he was trying to encourage closer. “Come on, come on, come on, come on…” he persisted, squinting his eyes as he grinned wide and menacing at me.

I could move, couldn’t speak. I wasn’t sure what my plan was anymore. How should I react, what should I do? Where was Frost?! “…come on, come ON doll!” He growled in frustration, his temper snapping slightly as he tried to restrain himself. “You’re usually so good…” he purred. When had I ever been ‘good’ around him? “Awww Doll... You’re breaking my heart” he whined, pouting his lips and pulling his outstretched hand back, placing it over his chest.

“You never use to know where that was.” I suddenly snapped, surprising myself at the outburst but trying not to show it as I glared at him.

Why on Earth did I say that?! What was wrong with me – did I somehow think it was smart to rile up the insane clown in front of me? Oh God, where was Frost?!

“Oooooo….” He leered, widening his eyes and pulling his head back in mocking shock, “Kitten’s got her claws back!” He cried in glee, giggling, “I missed this side of you doll – you’ve been too nice lately.” What was he talking about? When was I ever nice around him? Where was Frost?!

“But Doll, as much as I like you feisty...” he drawled, “I’m gonna have to asked you one more time – what do you have there?”

“A weapon if needs be.” I stated fiercely, not being fooled by his ‘sweet talk’.

“Now what would you need one of those for my dear?” He questioned innocently, taking a step toward me.

“Where’s Frost?” I asked impulsively, unnerved by his gentleness but standing my ground as he moved closer, refusing to yield no matter how much of my personal space he invaded.

“Now, now.” He tut-tutted, shaking his finger in front of my face, “That’s not the answer to my question is it?”

I didn’t say anything but stared at him stonily. “You are rather wilful tonight aren’t you kitten?” he asked, watching me with interest as though I intrigued him.

“Where’s Frost?” I bit out again determinedly, clutching the decanter even tighter in my hand – I wasn’t afraid to use it as a weapon if I needed to.

“There you go again!” He exclaimed gesturing wildly with one arm as he spun on his heel and strode back away from me, “Why does he suddenly mean so much to you, hmm doll? You’ve never bothered to mention him before!”

I furrowed my brow at him, confused what he was going on about. “You know doll,” he paused, his back still to me, now tilting his head so he looked diagonally upwards, “I’m starting to get bored of this now.” He mused at the ceiling, “I think I preferred you the way you were last night...” He suddenly spun back around so he faced me once more, “Silent.” He declared, the rictus back on his face and – somehow - a blade in his hand.

I recoiled, eying the knife in his hand in panic, no longer sure what I should be watching – him or the blade. I raised my own ‘weapon’ slightly, ready to smash it when needed.

“Not to worry doll,” he comforted, “Like I keep telling you every night – you’re only a dream. It won’t hurt.” He purred, stepping ever closer to me, tossing the knife in his hand.

Did he think I was a dream? A hallucination?

“I’m not a dream!” I cried desperately, with no hope that it would be enough to convince him and so raising the decanter further as a warning. “Where’s Frost?!” I demanded - he was the only one that was going to help me now.

“You and the snowman got a thing or something?” Joker sneered, tilting his head to the side once more as he advanced back towards me with predatory steps, “Now that’s a reason to hurt you even more…” he rumbled in pleasure.

He now stopped very close to me, barely a foot away and I was very aware that he could easily bring the knife forward into my abdomen at any moment. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to use the one defence I had, instead it hung uselessly in my hand.

He seemed to read my thoughts - or maybe he noticed a twitch in my hand holding the decanter - because he suddenly pitched forward and I flinched, screwing my eye tightly shut as I waited to feel the pain hit me.

When I felt nothing I slowly peeled my eyes open, afraid of what I might see. We were now nose to nose and my entire vision was filled with his face, his bright eyes drawing my own. I noticed his brow crinkle with his grin and then I heard a clinking noise to my left. Without moving my head I glanced quickly out of the corner of my eye to see him tapping the decanter in my hand with the edge of his blade. I quickly returned my eyes to his and his gaze hadn’t left my face.

“Although…” He muttered to himself, staring so intently into my eyes that I could feel my cheeks becoming red and I had the overwhelming need to pull back or look away from his burning glare. He growled a warning as if he knew what I was thinking and I so I didn’t dare to try to look away. “Although…” he repeated, now bringing the knife to my face and resting the edge lightly on my cheek, “I could always show you what you’re missing…” He purred, caressing my skin with the metal. He was so close to me I could almost feel him vibrating with the noise and his warm breath blew across my face. I shivered at the sensation.

Then his lips were on mine.

It was a shocking contrast to the cold metal on my cheek, his lips hot and firm against mine and I closed my eyes at the bliss that washed over me. Any thoughts I had only lasted a few seconds before the kiss became more intense and my mind was wiped completely clear. I barely noticed him take the decanter out of my hand and I vaguely acknowledged my hands drop limply to my sides - too caught up in his mouth and his other hand which ran up my neck to the back of my head, tangling in my hair and forcing me harder against him.

He bit at my lower lip and I couldn’t help but gasp at this, and he soon made the most of the opportunity, deepening the kiss and I was happy to copy..

I soon forgot how to breathe and it didn’t take long for me to become light headed, but I didn’t want it to end. I missed this. Whatever it was. I brought my hands to his waist, just above the band of his sweatpants, gripping his hips and holding him tightly. I didn’t want to lose him again - contrary to the fact there was a weapon pressed into my face – it was the safest I had felt in a very long time.

I didn’t want to be the one to break it off.

I don’t know how long we stood there, lost in each other. In the back of my mind I vaguely heard a noise, but was too dissociated to really acknowledge it. However it seemed to bring the Joker to his senses and he abruptly pulled back, cold air suddenly hitting my lips, my hands now empty and limp by my side. I opened my eyes in surprise at the sudden loss of contact only to I was stood alone in the room.

I wished he’d stop doing that. He was giving me whiplash.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood there numbly - lightly out of breath and my head still hazy – before I heard someone calling my name from the stairs and then the entrance hall, before Frost finally burst through the doorway. “[Y/N]?!” He called, rushing over to me, breathless. I snapped out of my stupor when I saw him, blinking rapidly as he looked me up and down, taking in my dishevelled hair, redden lips and shell-shocked appearance.

Frost, however, looked much worse for wear. The sleeves and shoulders were torn on his suit jacket and it hung open to reveal his white shirt which was now creased, ripped and stained with blood. Then I noticed the source of the blood – a long gash on his neck.

“My God…” I breathed, my eyes widening at the large wound, “Frost, what happened to you?!” I cried, suddenly breaking out of whatever had held me and rushing towards him, barely acknowledging my stumbling or heavy legs from shock and the lingering alcohol.

Before I knew it I was basically pressed up against him, “Let me look.” I said with concerned, grabbed the side of his neck which was not seeping blood and pulling him down to my height so I could inspect the wound. He visibly winced at my careless manipulation and grimaced in apology, “Sorry.” I muttered gently, lightening my touch on his skin as I turned his neck further around so the wound was in now more in my line of sight.

I inspected the wound with my ignorant eyes - not entirely sure what I was doing. I could tell it wasn’t too deep and it was a relatively clean cut, though it had bled quite a lot and still appeared to be oozing sluggishly. “Maybe you ought to lie down.” I suggested, stepping back a bit, now acutely aware how inappropriately close I had been to him. He made to nod at my suggestion but soon regretted it, his eyes screwed shut in pain as he tried to straighten his neck once more. I bit my lip and made a sympathetic face at his pain.

He stood still until his pain subsided enough that he could relax his contorted expression, and then made his way to couch that sat under the other, smaller window on the wall opposite the door. I watched his back as he moved and I noticed how the blood had soaked his collar and left a darker stain on his already black suit. Oddly though, I noted, his hair seemed to have clumped on the back of his head. Why was their blood that high up? “Uh, Frost...” I started and he paused, turning his whole body to face me to limit the movement in his neck. I moved towards him, reaching once more for his head, “Why is there blood in your hair?”

“Well, when I woke up I was on the floor.” He exclaimed, his teeth clenched in pain, “Maybe it just pooled there.” I didn’t ask about why he had woken up on the floor, too intrigued by the blood in his hair. I moved behind him, examining the bloodied mat amongst the rest of his messy hair. It was soaked in blood and I stood on my tiptoes as I moved the hair to the side, feeling a small pool of liquid beneath my fingertips. When I had parted his hair enough to see his scalp I was saw yet another wound - this one slightly deeper – between my fingertips. I inhaled sharply at the sight and he flinched under the pressure of my touch - probably immediately regretted it as he inhaled sharply from the pain in his neck. “What is it?!” He demanded, impatient and probably annoyed he couldn’t use his neck to turn to me.

“You have quite a nasty gash on the back of your head too.” I told him, moving back round so I was in front of him once more. “I really think you need to lie down.” I insisted, digging through my head for any first aid I knew, “You must have lost a heck of a lot of blood.” He grimaced at this thought and continued to move to the couch, lying down gingerly. He held his breath as his neck and head made contact with the sofa, scrunching his eyes at the stinging before his face relaxed, though he kept his eyes closed.

I glanced around the room, desperately thinking of what to do. I needed to stop the bleeding somehow. I needed a bandage. Did this house have a first aid kit? It might do, but I didn’t want to leave the room in case the Joker was lurking around still. He was the last person I wanted to bump into at the moment. I have enough to cope with right now what with Frost bleeding out in front of me.

I was just going to have to be resourceful.

I searched the room for a throw or something to use before my eyes landed on the lavish curtains that hung behind the piano. Bingo.

I moved over to them and picked the heavy material up. How the hell was this going to work? I needed to cut it into pieces somehow. I pulled hopelessly at it, but it was way too thick for me to tear. I returned my eyes to the room once more in search for something - anything - that might help me.

Then I noticed it, slightly hidden beneath the piano. It was the Joker’s switchblade. He must have thrown it to the side when he left. I knelt down and grabbed it before rushing back over to the window. I worked the blade against the fabric, making no indent initially, but eventually the fabric began to fray and I finally began to make progress. After I felt like I had cut deep enough I gather either side in my fists and pulled tightly, creating tension and grinning to myself in triumph as the drapes tore with a satisfy rip.

I used the knife to cut the last resistant edge before I successfully held up my provisional bandage. I hurried back to Frost, pausing when I noticed his eyes were still closed. Was he asleep? Had he passed out? “Uh… Frost?” I asked quietly, “Frost?” I asked a bit louder. He opened his eye, obviously not trying to move anything else. “Um, I have this,” I said, holding up my ribbon of curtain, “Thought it might work as a temporary bandage.” I explained. He looked surprised at the material in my hand but tentatively worked his way back up to a sitting position. He took the piece of curtain from me and raised his arms up to his neck but ended up stopping halfway, hissing at the pain that the movement caused as his muscles contracted. I grimaced in sympathy, trying to think how to help, “Uh, do you want me to do it?” I asked awkwardly, holding my hands out. He looked at me for a moment, seeming to consider his options before he reluctantly handed me back the fabric. I gave him a small forced smile and stepped closer once more, taking a deep breath to try to steady my shaking hands. I really didn’t want to hurt him. I carefully laid it against the wound, glad to see the blood seemed to have thickened and begun to clot. He didn’t move at the pressure but I noticed him tense and his jaw clench against the pain. I swallowed my nerves before gradually wrapping the rest of the material around his neck. I didn’t want to pull it too tight – I didn’t want to hurt him too much, plus I still wanted him to breathe - “Is that alright?” I asked warily.

“Yeah.” Gasped out Frost, and – though I knew he was in pain – I also knew he would endure it without complaint if he thought it would help. I grudgingly accept that I had to cause him the pain and arranged the material so it held. I didn’t know how long it was going to stay like that, but it would have to do for now.

“There we go.” I declared, stepping back from my handiwork. “You lie back down and I’ll see what I can do about the head wound.” He did what I instructed without argument and I had to wonder if the blood loss was finally hitting him.

I headed back to the curtains and cut another strip with the knife before flicking the blade shut and stuffing it into my trouser pocket – just in case I needed it again.

I returned to Frost who was watching me this time. I held up my second piece of fabric, “I don’t think this is really going to work as a bandage, judging by the position of the wound…” I explained, thinking through alternatives. “I think if I just fold it up you could lie back on it and that might be just as I effective.” I suggested, doubling the material over. I moved closer to the couch, “Just try to roll over a bit.” I directed. He did as I said, his face contorting against the stinging. I noticed there was already a bloody patch on the cushion and I placed my folded square over the mark. “Ok.” I signalled and he rolled back. “Perfect.” I muttered to myself, stepping back. That was the best I could do for now. “Uh… Maybe wait here till you’re feeling better? Then we can try to move you to the car? Then I’ll get you to a hospital.” I proposed. He didn’t say anything, just closed his eyes, so I took this as a yes.

I turned around, searching the room with my eyes again as I tried to figure out what to do next. I wasn’t sure what else I could do at the moment so I grabbed one of the wingback chairs and spun it slightly so I could sit and face Frost. I perched on the edge of the seat, my nerves making it difficult for me to sit still, adrenaline still pacing though my body.

Now I had done what I could for Frost the whole situation seemed to hit me. I was in the Jokers house. He was alive. He had been here. He had threatened me with a knife. Then he had kissed me. Now he was gone.

Was he still in the house? Why had he left so abruptly? I stared blankly into space as I thought things threw.

“What happened to you?” Frost croaked, jerking me out of my contemplations. I glanced back over to him and saw his darks eyes now open and watching me.

“Huh? Oh-uh.” I tried to think the best way to explain and felt my cheeks turn red. “I uh – I was a bit stupid.” Frost didn’t say anything to this but kept his eyes on me, waiting for me to continue. So I explained what had happened, how I had got drunk – strongly defending that it was to calm myself – before explaining my interaction with the Joker.

“That’s why your cheek’s bleeding?” He asked, not mentioning my idiotic actions – which I was grateful for. I frowned at him in confusion. Was I bleeding? I brought my hand to my cheek and - sure enough - I could feel a pronounced line running down my left cheek and dry blood under my fingers.

“Uh – yeah I guess.” I said, “What about you? What happened?” I asked, gesturing to his condition as he led on the sofa.

“He jumped me upstairs.” Frost said stiffly, talking through the pain, “Didn’t see him coming.” He admitted, “Came at me with a knife. Then eventually threw me into a wall.” He bit out through clenched teeth, “When I opened my eyes he was gone. So I came looking for you.”

I nodded in understanding and then we fell into silence. I let Frost rest for a few minutes whilst my mind wandered once more. I couldn’t relax whilst we were still in this house and I knew the Joker could enter at any moment. Finally I broke the peace that had fallen over us, “Frost – do you think you’d be ok to move now?” His eyes shot open at his name “Only I’m not sure how safe we are here.” I admitted. He seemed to consider this for a moment.

“Just leave me here, I can sort myself out.”

“No” I snapped defiantly. “You can’t ‘sort yourself out’” I quoted back at him, annoyed, “You need a hospital.” He slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position and my eyes fell on the square of curtain-bandage that remained on the sofa - noting that it had quickly become sodden in blood.

“Do you really think I can just walk into a hospital?” He asked, clearly slightly amused at the idea. “I’m sort of a criminal.” He stated.

“Fine. But I’m not leaving you here like this!” I exclaimed, quickly trying to think of a better option, “You must have a place you can go. Just tell me where to take you.”

He looked at me, annoyed by my stubbornness, but didn’t bother to fight with me – clearly just wanting to get whatever it was over and done with. “Alright.” He conceded, “Just get me back to Marv’s, he knows what to do.”

I nodded at this, throwing myself onto my feet - glad I had a job once more. “Ok, how are we going to do this?” I asked stood awkwardly before him, not sure what the best thing to do was. Frost slowly pushed himself to his feet and I was worried about how much blood loss he had sustained. He also seemed concerned and took a few hesitant steps, clearly happy with how they went and seemed confident to proceed.

I dodged past him and grabbed the blood-soaked rag that had been my makeshift head bandage, “For in the car.” I explained when he looked at me confused. He rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed at my mothering.

He made his way out of the room, careful with his movements so as not to move his head too much, but I noticed he reached into his jacket and pulled out his gun as he had earlier. I followed suit and dug into my trouser pocket, pulling out the Joker’s blade that I had stashed there. I flicked it out and held it out in front of me as I followed behind Frost.

There was no need for the weapons however as there was no sign of the Joker in small part of the house we passed through. Once we were out the front door we swiftly moved across the pristine lawn to the SUV still waiting for us on the road. The keys were already in Frost’s hand and he unlocked the it, making for the driver’s side. “Oooooh no!” I called at him, “There is nooo way I am letting you drive!”

“What?” He asked in surprise at my sudden outburst.

I frowned at him in annoyance, “You. Are. Not. Driving!” I snapped, loudly emphasising each word. When he still didn’t hand over the keys I stormed up to him with steely eyes, “You, “ I pointed at him, “are currently suffering from large blood loss, you’re unbalanced, dizzy and probably have a concussion!” I cried in frustration at his stubbornness before sticking my hand out to him, palm up, waiting.

He huffed loudly in annoyance, rolling his eyes once more and reluctantly dropped the keys into my out-stretched hand. I gave him a forced sweet smile, “Thanks!” I sang, abruptly turning and climbing into the driver’s seat. I heard him mumble something before he marched around to the other side of the car. I smirked at my victory as I adjusted the seat and mirrors. He slid in next to me, eyeing me with concern. “I can drive you know.” I told him in an attempt to reassure him.

“We’ll see.” He muttered before turning away from me and positioning himself so he looked out the passenger side window. I frowned at him in annoyance at his lack of trust in any of my abilities.

“It’ll be fiiiiiine!” I drawled, rolling my eyes away from him and onto the wheel in front of me, and starting the engine.

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