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keepmeinthedark · 3 years

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To The Top || A Marauders Band AU

Chapter Three: This Side of Paradise

Read here on AO3

How did James and Lily go from disliking each other to falling in love?

They spent time together didn't they? That's how most people do it.

In past interviews, James had described his relationship with Lily Evans as "love at first sight."

That's because it was. Just because it started with love doesn't mean that they didn't have their problems in the middle.

Were any of the other boys in relationships at the time?

No, unless you count Frank who at the point was dating Alice, but they hadn't made it official at this point.

And according to Emmeline Vance herself, she was involved in the band during the early days. How did she meet them?

She lived with them. At Maxwells house. She shared a room with James.

Emmeline hated sharing a room with James.

He was messy, he was loud, and above all, he was a complete inconvenience whenever she wanted to bring someone home with her.

She always texted him, a quick and simple rabbit emoji, a quick way of saying "I'm about to bring someone into our room who I intend to have sex with. Please clear all of your shit to the side and go sleep on Sirius and Franks floor please."

But did he ever do it? Nope. Never. Not once.

One time he left a framed photo of himself with rose petals and candles on her bed.

Another time he had Sirius and Frank play the loudest least sexy music ever from their room once they had heard Emmeline and their date come in.

Another time James had replaced all of the photos of her friends and family with photos of the Backyardigans with James photoshopped into them. (They don't even know where he found the time for that one.)

And this time James hadn't even bothered to check his phone.

"Jesus Christ James what are you doing?" she asked the lump of blankets on his bed. She turned to her companion, a tall blonde girl with blue eyes, "Im so sorry, I told him to leave."

Her date just shrugged and started to gently kiss Emmeline's neck, "I don't mind so long as he's quiet," she said.

"Please don't," James squeaked from his bed.

Emmeline rolled her eyes. "Could you give us a second please?" She asked the blonde.

After the girl (she couldn't remember her name) left the room, Emmeline stormed over to where James lay. She pulled the sheets from on top of him and folded their arms. "What are you playing at?" she hissed.

James didn't answer, just mumbled a bit and waved his arms about.

"Are you drunk?"

"Nurr."

"Are you sure?"

"Nurr."

Emmeline uncrossed her arms, "What's this about, James?" she asked, their voice much softer than it was before.

James sat up, "It's nothing it's just... nothing. I'm sorry I didn't see your text I'll leave." He began to get out of bed.

"Hang on a sec. Wait up," Emmeline held their hand out and James sat back. "What's going on?"

James sighed and opened his mouth to answer when Sirius and Frank entered the room. "Why is there a lesbian in the hallway?" Sirius asked.

Emmeline gave him a look, "Nevermind about her, why is Potter depressed."

"I'm not depressed."

Emmeline's look was pleading.

Sirius sighed, "You remember that girl that he met at Christmas?"

"Dark red hair that reached her chest, emerald green eyes, plus size, has a smile that glows, exactly a head smaller, three piercings, a tattoo of a wolf behind her ear and wearing white Doc Martens?" She nodded. "Yeah, I remember."

"She was at the gig we played today and she rejected him."

"Well bloody hell is that all?" Emmeline sounded offended. "I thought someone had died or something but you're cockblocking me just because you couldn't get laid yourself. That is low Potter."

Emmeline could hear Frank trying to hold in his laughter and James looked up at her with a shocked expression.

"I didn't see your text!"

"I sent you fifteen rabbits! Fifteen! If that wasn't enough indication that the girl I was bringing back was important-"

"I DIDN'T SEE IT!"

"YOU KNOW BETTER THAN TO NOT CHECK!"

"Alright! Alright, inside voices both of you," Sirius got between them. He turned to Emmeline. "Emme. What's so important about the lesbian in the hallway?"

They shrugged, "First fuck of the year ain't it?"

Behind her, Frank started laughing. In front of her, James looked like he was about to kill them.

"All of this for some random lesbian you found off the street?" Frank wheezed.

Emmeline's face scrunched up in disgust. "Alright let's get some things straight," she said, wagging her figure at each of them. "Firstly, it's the first day of the year I need a good start. Secondly, she's bisexual, and thirdly I didn't find her on the street she was at a house party that I just came from."

"So all of this for some random bisexual that you found at a house party?"

"To start this new fucking year off right! Can't forget about that!" Sirius chimed in.

Emmeline had never wanted to hit them more.

"Are we done?" James asked. "I'm a bit over talking about this."

"Oh, I'm sorry your highness are we bothering your coming of age moment?" Frank asked sarcastically.

"Yes, you are ruining my coming of age moment." James hissed. "Now if you don't mind, I prefer to be depressed alone, not with you lot and a bisexual from a house party!" He pulled his covers back over himself.

"Aww come on mate don't be like that. So you don't reject for once in your life it happens to everyone. Doesn't it guys?" Frank said turning to Sirius and Emmeline for support.

"Yeah, the amount of times I've flirted with straight dudes is embarrassing," Sirius said the same time Emmeline said, "Ah not really I'm a catch."

This got a smile from James.

"Ay, there's a smile!" Frank beamed. "C'mon, well go to the pub. Turn that frown upside down."

James' smiled grew and he nodded, finally getting out of bed. Emmeline, Sirius, and Frank cheered.

"Wait!" Emmeline said, "What are we going to do about the bisexual?" she whispered as if she could hear them from the other side of the door.

Frank shrugged, "Bring her along!"

They cheered again and made their way out of the bedroom door. Only to find that the girl Emmeline had brought back was no longer there.

"Ahh fuck her," James said when he noticed Emmelines disappointed face. "She would've brought the mood down anyway."

The Leaky Caldron was the quietest any of them had seen it. It was past 1 am by the time they had gotten there and most of their company were about to do their last rounds.

Sirius preferred it like this. It was easier to get a drink, it was easier to hear your friends and it was easier to actually move around. He was never fond of really crowded places like that.

Emmeline had gotten them all the first round and James got the second, by the time they were on the third Sirius noticed three guys walk into the pub. He immediately recognized one of them as Lily Evans' friend.

He opened his mouth to tell the others but Frank jumped in before he could. "Hey, those guys were at the gig today," he said subtly pointing at them.

James went pale, "Yeah, and one of them was talking to Lily when I went up to talk to her," he muttered.

Emmeline hit Frank's arm, "See what you've done," she hissed. "Don't worry Potter, Ill go throw my drink over him. Now, which one was it?"

"Emme, we've talked about this you cant just throw drinks over anyone you like," Sirius told her and slapped her hand away from her drink.

Sirius expected them to make some snarky come back, but instead they just stared at him and raised an eyebrow. Sirius was about to ask her what the hell she was doing when she threw her arms up and gave him a disapproving look.

"Really Sirius?" she asked. "Out of all the people for you to fancy it has to be one of them?"

Sirius went bright red, "I haven't got a clue what you're talking about," he lied.

"Don't lie to me."

"Well, I can't help it can I?"

"Oh my god, Sirius. Right, which one is it? I'll throw my drink over him instead."

Sirius nearly jumped out of his seat, "Why do you have to throw your drink on anyone?"

Emmeline gave him a judging look. "You can't date the friend of the girl who broke your poor mate's heart, Sirius."

"Yeah Sirius," Frank said in a mocking tone. "You can't break girl code."

Emmeline side-eyed him but ignored his comment. "Let's say you two date, and you falling love and get married and James is your best man while whats her name-"

"Lily Evans"

"- Lily Evans, is his best woman. And those two have to help plan your wedding, but they can't agree on anything because James holds grudges and your wedding is ruined. Do you really want your wedding to be ruined?"

James raised his eyebrows. "That's why this is bad? Not because of my feelings or anything?"

"I was getting to that."

"No, you weren't!"

"It was implied!"

Sirius downed what remained of his drink. "Alright, alright," he intervened before they could get any more annoying. "I just won't date him, you don't have to throw your drink over someone every time we go drinking Emme. We'll just continue our lives and never see each other ever again." Although if Sirius was being honest, he didn't really like the idea of never seeing his mystery boy again. "It's not like we talked or he took any notice of me anyway."

"Emme, get your drink ready," Frank said suddenly. "One of thems coming over here."

Sirius" head shot into the direction where Frank was looking. Unfortunately, it was not the scarred boy but rather the oldest of the group. Sirius wouldn't be surprised if he was the other three boys' father, as it was obvious that they were all related somehow.

Meanwhile, James had to steal Emmeline's drink before she could get her hands on it.

The man noticed that he was being watched and gave the group a small smile. "So sorry to bother you," he said as he got closer, "But were you by any chance the band that played at the fate earlier today?"

Nobody answered for a moment, each one of them was waiting for someone else to take one for the team and talk, in the end, it was Frank.

"Yeah, we were," he told him. "Were you there?"

The man shook his head but smiled. "No, but my sons were," he said pointing to the table where the three boys sat. Upon realizing that the group was now looking at them, each boy quickly turned their head to make it look like they weren't watching. All of them seemed embarrassed. The man laughed.

"They seem to have this problem when they see someone they know and their first reaction is to hide rather than say hello."

The four of them laughed awkwardly as if they weren't the exact same.

"Anyways, I just wanted to come here to prove a point," he said with a friendly smile. He turned to leave but backtracked on himself and pulled a card from his pocket. "Actually, if you guys ever need somewhere to play there is this club that likes to play small bands. Give them a call if you like."

Emmeline immediately reached for the card and took it from him, before any of the boys could tell him that "they're not a small band."

"Thank you, much appreciated," she said with a smile and the four of them watched as the man walked away.

Frank took the card from Emmeline and read it over a few times, then he and Emmeline began talking about if it would be worth giving them a call. James stayed silent and finished his drink, only giving his thoughts every now and then. Sirius on the other hand hadn't taken his eyes off the scarred boy, who was now interrogating his dad, along with his brothers. For a split second his eyes shifted and locked with Sirius'. He gave him a smile - that one that you give to random people on the street - and looked down at his drink.

Shit, Sirius thought. There is no way that I'm never seeing him again.

#the marauders #the marauders fanfiction #jily #wolfstar #dorlene #James Potter #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #peter pettigrew #Lily Evans #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #mary macdonald #frank longbottom #emmeline vance

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itsclydebitches · 4 years

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Re the BTD recap: "the prose is still incredibly messy in places" "To be frank, it’s not that I think this is all particularly good… just not particularly bad either." If it's not too much trouble, can I get some concrete examples for why? I feel like I often don't notice this sort of thing, so I want to know what I'm missing. Might help me to be a better writer.

Challenging request, anon! :D I feel like I need a few disclaimers here:

The book is serviceable. It’s just not going to be winning any awards. Talking about how the prose and dialogue can be better isn’t meant to translate to, “This is the worst thing ever written.” Because it’s not.

This is very much a pot calling the kettle black situation. Anyone here has the capability of hopping onto AO3, finding a horribly written passage of my own, and shaking it in my virtual face. So this is likewise not intended to be me standing atop a pedestal going, “Anyone - myself included - could do better.” I often can’t do better because writing is hard.

I’m not a creative writing instructor, thus it’s often difficult for me to articulate why I think a piece of literature doesn’t read well. If you’ve ever, say, come out of a movie with a strong sense of it not being “good” but can’t easily explain why it failed? It’s similar to that. By consuming lots of media we get a sense of “quality” over “badly written” that then informs our reactions to new texts, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy to boil that response down to, “See here on page 3? They shouldn’t have done this. Fix that and it’s ‘good’ now.”

Nevertheless, let’s try. I’ll take a passage from the prologue where Sun is facing off against these “goons”

Two glowing clones of Sun flared into existence, one facing Pink and the second squaring off against Green. That left Brown—whom he figured was both the leader of the group and the most dangerous. Why? Because he was hiding the most.

Brown slashed a hand toward Sun. “Take him.”

“Which one?” Green asked.

“The real one,” Pink said. “These are just flashy illusions.”

Sun directed one of his clones to punch Pink in the face.

She blinked and looked more annoyed than hurt.

“That’s no illusion!” Green reached for clone Two.

Sun’s clones were physical manifestations of his Aura, every bit as capable of inflicting damage as he was. But it could be difficult to control them, especially while he was fighting. They were better suited to giving him the element of surprise, extra pairs of hands, or emergency backup when he needed it.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t sustain them long, and they couldn’t take much damage, as they drew Aura from Sun himself. If he kept them going too long, or tried to create too many clones, it usually weakened the Aura shield protecting him. But he’d improved a lot with training, and his Semblance was a lot stronger than it used to be.

Sun whipped out his gunchucks, Ruyi Bang and Jingu Bang, spinning them as he and Brown circled each other slowly. At the same time, Sun was fighting Pink and Green through his clones. Pink was some kind of boxer, dancing around and jabbing with her fists, which One was managing to block. Meanwhile, Green was trying to grab Two and wrestle him to the ground.

Brown had some kind of martial arts training similar to Sun’s—but he wasn’t nearly as good. Sun leaned back as Brown did a high roundhouse kick; he felt a breeze as his opponent’s booted foot swept past his nose with a lot of power behind it. Sun flicked his right gunchuck to loop it around Brown’s ankle and pulled him out of his stance, hitting him with the closed gunchuck in his left hand. The man took the full blow, but it didn’t even faze him.

Now let’s break down some of the reasons why this passage doesn’t work for me. I’ll work chronologically.

As mentioned in the recap, it’s rather awkward for a PoV character to ask and answer their own questions. Especially when they’re not presented as literal thoughts. The “Why? Because...” takes me right out of the story. It suddenly sounds like I’m attending a lecture or reading an article. Sun believes X. Why does he believe this? Because of Y evidence.

The dialogue is clunky. This problem is admittedly more obvious at other points, but there are a lot of moments where it doesn’t feel like this is a natural thing someone would think or say. Which again, is really hard to write. How people speak is quite different from how we think they speak and finding a balance between that (eliminating most pauses like “um” or “like” that would be too frustrating to read, giving characters more flowery language to serve the story’s goals even if it’s not realistic, etc.) is hard to nail. Here, Sun is often thinking things that don’t sound l like an actual thought in a panicked teen’s head.

Oh crap, Sun thought. I’m losing. How am I actually losing?

It just sounds like exposition. The reader needs to know that Sun is losing! So Sun will tell them that.

The villains, so far, are a bit too cartoony for me.

“You got lucky, monkeyboy,” Green said as he walked off, his companions following him through the cloud of foul vapor. “This time.”

Which is admittedly a matter of taste and does have some justification given RWBY’s early writing (think Roman). Still, it’s hard to take lines like this seriously, especially when we just had the group making fun of Velvet for cheesy quips. But the villain’s quips are supposed to read as daunting?

Connected to Sun’s thought above, there is a lot of telling rather than showing throughout. For example: “She blinked and looked more annoyed than hurt.” There are ways of showing the reader that Pink is annoyed (indeed, just leaving it at “She blinked” would have gotten the point across) rather than resorting to, “She looked ___”. Another good example would be “ Sun leaned back as Brown did a high roundhouse kick; he felt a breeze as his opponent’s booted foot swept past his nose with a lot of power behind it.” You don’t need to reassure the reader that there was “a lot of power behind it.” The action itself - feeling a breeze, his boot passing close to his nose - conveys that on its own.

To be clear, telling isn’t something you can’t ever do (break those writing rules!!) especially when sometimes you just want to be clear/convey something succinctly, but it is something to keep in mind. It’s another balancing act. Too much telling and the reader feels like they’re just being told a list of things to believe. Too much showing and it feels like the writer is trying too hard to make everything detailed, exciting, etc. Still, a good writer is going to be able to convey everything (Sun losing a fight, annoyance, a powerful kick) without feeling the need to remind the reader of things every few lines, “This is what’s happening. Don’t get confused!”

After the fight starts we immediately get a two paragraph info-dump about Sun’s semblance. How it works, what his limitations are, and what that means for this fight. Again, show that! We’ve just started an action sequence. The fight is underway. The reader doesn’t want to get pulled out of the action for another lecture. Rather than hitting pause on the fun stuff to explain things, create scenarios where these details become relevant and can be shown to the reader. Right now we don’t care what Sun’s limitations are unless those limitations become important.

We get another announcement in the form of “[Brown] wasn’t nearly as good [as Sun]” instead of (again) showing us that. Indeed, as I mention in the recap all the action that comes next contradicts this. So where did this assertion come from? If Sun knows that Brown uses a martial arts style similar to his then theoretically they’ve been fighting for at least a few seconds... but the reader doesn’t get to see that. Meyers was too busy telling us about Sun’s semblance.

Finally, there are pockets of Meyer’s writing that are all roughly the same. Meaning, sentences have little variety to them. This isn’t a consistent problem (and it’s certainly not the worst example I’ve seen of this) but on the whole he could use a more engaging flow to his work, both in terms of sentence length and balance among actions, dialogue, descriptions, and thoughts. Otherwise you get prose that reads, “This happened. Then this happened. This happened next. See the length? It’s all the same. Very little changes. And the reader gets bored.” Again, not a consistent problem, but one he should keep working on.

There are a number of other, smaller issues that are beginning to pop up. Such as the in parentheses pronunciation of the teams’ names, or the overuse of “he sent” whenever Fox communicates telepathically. In contrast, there are things about the writing that I’ve enjoyed. There are moments of dialogue - such as Fox’s joke in Chapter One, or how Sun’s instructions to “find Shade” literally refer to the school but also remind the reader that shade, in such a hot environment, is crucial - that I think are worth pointing to and going, “Yeah. That was a nice touch.” Overall though? It’s that, “I just came out of a bad movie” feeling. There’s too much clunkiness throughout. The writing often lacks variety or feels absurd. I’m taken out of the story more often than I fall into it. Is it the worst thing I’ve ever read? Far from it, but fans aren’t wrong when they say things like, “I’ve read better fic than this professional story.”

#rwby #rwde #mymetas #Anonymous

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bee-kathony · 6 years

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McTavish & Beauchamp | Ch. 29 “Just the Beginning”

a/n: This is the final chapter of this story. I feel so bittersweet -- this started out as a one shot, my first try at something canon related that I wished had gone a bit differently. It then evolved into my first multi-chapter fic. I wouldn’t have written more if you all didn’t ask for it, I didn’t expect people to like my writing or want to read anything of mine at all. This was all so new to me when I started. So thank you to everyone who has read this and encouraged me, it means so much! I will miss these Fraser’s, but I’m looking forward to even more stories to tell <3 and of course, thank you to @julesbeauchamp for calling this the ‘outlander we deserve’ and making me a couple of moodboards ;)

Masterlist Here

4 months later…

September 19th, 1747

“Just breathe, Sassenach,” Jamie said softly from beside me. I’d been in labor since yesterday afternoon and I remember hearing that with the third child, it was supposed to be easier… not this one.

“He’s stubborn thing,” I groaned. “Just like his father.”

“Or a stubborn lass…” Jamie smirked. “Like her mam.”

Narrowing my eyes at him, I let out a deep breath as another contraction came, this time much closer than the one before. Jenny and the midwife were helping me — wetting my forehead with a damp cloth, making sure I stayed hydrated. Jamie hadn’t left my side all night, he’d barely slept either.

I considered myself to be a patient person, but when matters of my body were concerned and an immense amount of pain… I wasn’t.

“Do ye wanna go for another walk, mo nighean? See if it helps,” Jamie asked.

“No,” I said through gritted teeth. “I do not want to go for another bloody walk, I want this baby out of me!”

Gripping Jamie’s hand tight, another contraction passed. The last time I had given birth to our son, William, it had been dangerous for the both of us. I was scared and I knew Jamie was too. In my own time, I would be in a hospital with clean linen’s and medicines to help with the pain — giving childbirth in the 18th century was exactly what I’d thought it would be.

“Is there anythin’ we can do, Jenny?” Jamie asked his sister who had just returned with freshly boiled cloths.

“If she doesna want to go for a walk, aye, there are a few things…” she smirked.

“Well what is it?” I tried to sit up. I knew of a few things all right… and I knew why she was smirking.

“Intercourse helps progress the labor quite well,” she said and I felt Jamie shift in the bed. He was so nervous to touch me near the end, afraid that the baby would some how feel an intruder. “Nipple stimulation, and of course wee walks.”

I looked over at Jamie who’s face was red, “Well?”

“I dinna want to hurt ye, Sassenach… or the bairn.”

“You won’t hurt us, Jamie. How many times do I have to tell you this,” I smiled, cupping his face. “If you’re too bloody afraid to have sex with your wife, then the least you can do is touch me.” I reached for his hand and laid it on my breast.

“I’ll come back later,” Jenny smirked and left the room, closing the door behind her.

“Ye think this will work, mo ghraidh?” Jamie moved closer, pulling my shift down from my shoulders until both breasts were exposed.

“Oh yes,” I nodded. “I’ve heard of many women’s labors being sped up this way and of course by having sex, but…” I gave him a look. “My husband won’t do that.”

“Och, ye ken I want to, Sassenach… I just—“ He said a bit shyly as he glanced down at my massive belly. “I dinna want to hurt ye and I dinna want to poke the poor fella.”

Jamie moved his fingers around my areola, pressing gently and then firmer as I touched his wrist. My nipples hardened at his touch. Sex was the last thing on my mind, having been sweating and feeling like I was about to explode for the last eighteen hours.

“Jamie, will you try?” I said.

He bent down to kiss me, his hands moving to my shoulders. “I’ll try for ye, Sassenach.”

It took a bit of effort, but I managed to move onto my hands and knees — there was no possible way Jamie could manage to curve himself around my stomach and I was too heavy to straddle him.

“If ye feel any pain at all, Claire…” he placed his hands on my hips. “Ye tell me to stop and I swear I will.”

“I won’t,” I urged, backing my hips against him, feeling how hard he was. It’d been months since we’d been together like this, I knew no matter how much he protested, he wanted me.

Slowly and carefully, Jamie pressed into me and a deep sigh left both of our lips. It did feel different, somehow fuller. My stomach was against the bed, and I raised myself best I could on my hands as he began to thrust into me. He was being so gentle, so tender.

“It feels good, Jamie,” I encouraged him and turned my head to see him looking down at the place of our joining. I could hear it then, the wetness as he pushed forward. “Oh!”

“I’m almost,” he grunted. “I canna last much longer, Sassenach.”

Both his hands pressed into my hips, holding me to him and I hung my head forward as he finished with three more thrusts. Every nerve in my body seemed to come alive and it took all the energy in me to roll onto my side, collapsed and spent.

Jamie laid behind me, his hands softly stroking my belly and then I arched against him as another contraction came.

“That was quick,” Jamie chuckled.

Within the next hour, I was pushing, leaning against him for support and squeezing the bloody hell out of his hand. Once I felt the need to push, it all happened rather quickly from that point and now I lay back in bed, holding our precious baby boy.

“I told ye it would help quicken things,” Jenny snorted from the end of the bed as she gathered the used cloths and bedsheets.

“Aye, ye did,” Jamie narrowed his eyes. “Now, will ye go and get the other wee bairns of ours?”

A moment later, Faith and William came running in, excited smiled on their faces. With Jamie’s help, they crawled up onto the bed, sitting around us.

“This is your new baby brother,” I smiled and turned him towards them. “His name is Brian… like your grandda.”

The eldest Brian Fraser stood in the doorway, his arms crossed and I thought I saw a few unshed tears in his eyes. I smiled at him and he at me, then turned back to my children. I never thought I would have a family of my own — a distant thought perhaps in the back of my mind, but never did I think I would be surrounded by my husband and three beautiful children, all with a mop of red hair.

Ever since Brian’s return, we had all gotten into a routine of sorts. Life was beginning to take shape again and after so many years of traveling and never feeling settled, Jamie and I found peace here at Lallybroch.

Brian had grown healthier day by day, returning once again to the man he once was. He didn’t want to be Laird of Lallybroch anymore, it was Jamie’s duty he said. I saw how Jamie took on that responsibility so seriously, always caring for his tenants and family. Caring for us.

I helped around the estate with Jenny, whether in the garden that I had helped cultivate or with daily tasks inside. And once a week, I went into the village and houses nearby and healed people with cuts and diseases, using my knowledge in any way that I could.

We were slowly outgrowing Lallybroch, with three children of our own as well as Jenny and Ian’s never ending offspring. Which is why Jamie had begun building a smaller house just on the edge of the property for us. He said that while he was Laird of Lallybroch, it didn’t mean we had to live in the house. I think he mostly wanted his privacy from all the coming and going of the bigger house.

I had to admit, it would be nice to get away from all the noise that a big house and all its servants and inhabitants brought along with it. Of course we still had three children of our own that made plenty of noises.

I was up at the smaller house now, it’d been a month since Brian was born and I wanted some fresh air. Jamie came out, his shirt covered in dirt and his face with it.

“My Sassenach,” he kissed me and then Brian. “My wee lad.”

“To what do I owe the honor?”

“Just wanted to get some fresh air and see how the house was coming along,” I smiled.

“I expect in the next couple weeks, it’ll be done and we can be in before the cold comes,” he said proudly and slid his arm around my waist.

“It’ll be beautiful, Jamie. I love it already,” I said and then passed Brian into his arms to give mine a break. “Did you ever think that when we first met, we would have all of this?”

“Och, nah.” Jamie smiled as he stroked Brian’s small cheek. “I was an outlaw when we first met, on the run. I never thought I would live to see the day I would return to Lallybroch, especially no as Laird.”

“And I never thought that I would marry that dirty highlander with a dislocated shoulder,” I smirked, crossing my arms.

“I’m glad ye did, Sassenach,” Jamie kissed me. “I remember that night like it twas yesterday, ye comin’ in wi’ Murtagh, dressed in yer shift wi’ yer wet curls drippin’ down.”

“You bloody scot!” I hit him on the arm, “You just wanted to see through my dress, even back then.”

“Aye, I did,” he laughed. “Ye were so bonny and the I’d never seen anyone as beautiful as ye, Sassenach. Can ye forgive me for wantin’ ye? Even then?”

I pressed my lips to his, then laid my head against his shoulder. “I forgive you. Only because I wanted you too, from the start.”

++++++

4 years ago….

The strange man I was with that had saved me from the English soldier — the same one that bared a striking resemblance to Frank — pushed open a door to a small cottage. Inside was a group of men, huddled around a fire.

They spoke a language I didn’t understand and I began to feel like I wasn’t entirely safe.

A man rose from the corner, pulling my arm aside to bring me closer to the fire, “Let’s have a look at ye, lass.”

“I trust you’re able to see me now,” I said, trying my best to hold myself together.

“What’s yer name?” he said with a thick Scottish accent.

I decided to keep using my maiden name. If they intended to ransom me, I didn’t want to lead them back to Frank. “Claire,” I said. “Claire Beauchamp.”

“Claire Beauchamp,” he said.

“That’s right! What the hell do y—“

“You said you found her?” He interrupted me, talking to the man who had brought me here.

“Aye,” the other man said. “She was havin’ words wi’ a certain Captain of Dragoons, wi’ whom we are acquainted.” He looked over at me, “There seemed to be some question as to whether the lady was or was not a whoor.”

“And what was the lady’s position in the discussion?”

“I am not!”

“We could put it to the test,” another man said from the corner.

“I don’t hold wi’ rape,” the man beside me said, but I found little comfort in his words. “We don’t have the time for it anyway.”

“Dougal,” the first man said, “I have no idea what she might be, but I’ll stake my best shot, she’s not a whoor.”

“We’ll puzzle that out later,” the man Dougal said and then went back to the fire behind me. “We’ve a good distance to go tonight, we must do somethin’ about Jamie first.”

Escape was my chief concern, but I had no idea where I was and trying to find the road back to Inverness in the gathering darkness felt like a fool’s errand.

All the men had crowded around a man with red hair.

“It’s the joint, poor bugger. Ye canna ride wi’ it like that can ye?”

“It hurts enough sittin’ still, I couldna manage a horse,” the injured man said.

“I don’t mean to be leavin’ him behind.”

“There’s no help for it then,” another man said, “I’ll have to force the joint back.”

The wisest course of action would have been to keep my head down, my mouth shut and wait for the search parties Frank must have sent out by now. But I couldn’t stand there and do nothing as I watched these grubby highland men surround the injured one, starting to pull on his arm while he choked down ale.

“Don’t you dare!” I rushed forward and the pulled their knives on me. “Stand aside at once, you’ll break his arm if you do it like that!”

They all just looked at me as if they’d never heard a woman speak before, “You have to get the bone of the upper arm in the correct position before it slips back into joint.” The man Dougal moved aside to let me attend to the injured man.

He was covered in blood and sweat and I laid my hands gently on his arm, he winced slightly.

“Hold him steady,” I said to the men behind him and then looked at the red haired man, nodding once to let him know I was about to do it. I moved his forearm, twisting it and he let out a groan, “This is the worst part.”

He nodded, breathing heavily as I then took his arm and pushed it back into place.

“Taing Dhia!” He said, looking up at me. “It doesna hurt anymore.”

“It will,” I said checking his arm. “It’ll be tender for about a week, you’ll need a sling.”

“You,” I nodded to a man nearby, “Fetch me a long piece of cloth or a belt!”

“Fetch me she says,” he mocked me. “Did ye hear that lads?”

“Give her yer belt…” Dougal said.

“Takin’ a guess ye’ve done this before?” the red haired man I heard referred to as Jamie, said.

I nodded, my arm still holding onto his, “I’m a nurse.” Sets of eyes drifted down to my breasts, “Not a wet nurse!”

I took the belt from the man, wrapping it around Jamie’s arm. “You mustn’t move the joint for two or three days. When you begin to use it again, go very slowly at first. Stop at once if it hurts. And use warm compresses on it daily.”

“Alright,” I hooked the belt, “How does that feel?”

“Better,” Jamie smiled. “Thank ye.”

“Can ye ride?” Dougal said, tossing him his jacket.

“Aye,” Jamie said, still looking up at me.

“Good, we’re leavin’.”

We all made out way outside, now dark and raining. Jamie followed behind me and I looked out at the dark night, “Where is it? Where is the city? It should be visible from here…”

“Inverness?” Jamie said, nodding forward. “Yer lookin’ straight at it.”

There were no electric lights as far as the eye could see, so as much as my rational mind rebelled against the idea — I knew in my heart, I was no longer in the 20th century.

“Get yerself up,” Dougal came behind me, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards Jamie’s horse that he was already seated upon. “You be sure to stay close to the rest of us and should ye try anythin’ else, I shall slit yer throat for ye. Do ye understand me?”

I nodded, scared out of my mind. “Give me yer foot,” he said and hoisted me up onto Jamie’s horse. I sat in front of him, feeling his warm solid chest behind me. He moved around me, pressing against me, “Careful. What are you trying to do?”

“Get my plaid to cover ye,” he said. “Yer shiverin’,” Jamie said softly as he pulled the plaid around both of us.

“Thank you, but I’m fine really.”

“Yer shakin’ so hard, it’s makin’ my teeth rattle,” he laughed. “The plaid will keep us both warm, but I canna do it one handed. Can ye reach?”

I reached behind me, helping Jamie to cover us. I was thankful for the plaid he had and for the heat his body was emanating — he was like a furnace and for the first time that day, I began to feel safe, sitting here in his arms.

“No need to freeze before sun up,” he said.

“Sun up? You mean we’ll be riding all night?”

“All night,” he confirmed. “And the next one too, I reckon.”

We set off, moving further and further away from Inverness — from Frank and from my once chance of returning to where I had come from. All through the night, I felt Jamie’s arms wrapped around me and had to admit to myself that it felt quite nice. He was big, much bigger than Frank and I felt protected.

I found myself in a strange time, still trying to figure out just when that was.

“Are ye alright, lass?” Jamie said some hours later.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” I said. “Just where are we going anyways?”

“Och, we’re goin’ to Castle Leoch, still a days ride away.”

“Castle Leoch?”

“Aye, ye know it?”

“Sort of,” I replied. I had been there with Frank only yesterday and it seemed odd to be going there again, only this time alone and perhaps in a different century.

As the night went on and the sun began to come up, I found that my companion was still holding me tight to him — not that there was anywhere else to go. Thoughts of Frank were slipping from my mind as the cold seeped into my bones. At one point, I thought I felt something hard against my lower back, but shook my head, it couldn’t be.

But if I was honest with myself, the man, Jamie was quite handsome and more than once I had drifted off to sleep in his arms, finding myself dreaming of him in ways I shouldn’t have.

No matter where I was, or what century I found myself in — all I knew was that I wanted Jamie, this strange highlander by my side at all times. For when I was with him, I felt safe and protected — as if he would let no harm come to me and my well being. I barely knew him and yet I trusted him completely.

The End. <3

#mctavish and beauchamp #outlander fanfic #im sad #but it needed to end #m&b #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire fraser #mistress beauchamp #jamie mctavish #outlander

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the-writerly-night-owl · 6 years

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Not Exactly an Arranged Marriage

Book: Desire and Decorum

Summary: What if the Earl of Edgewater wanted to see his daughter married before his passing? After Clara writes to him about being interested in Ernest, Vincent writes to Mr. Sinclaire about marrying his daughter as his illness gets worse.

Authors Note: Set sometime after the opera but before the Duke’s assault. And working on my Ellie x Beckett story next too :-) just thought to write this since it got stuck in my head for last day or two. There is a time skip at the end so hopefully this isn’t too confusing.

I hope that this letter finds you in good health. It appears that mine has been in the decline as I write this my fever has broken for the worst. Please excuse my frankness at this letter as I try to keep myself in good spirits. I am writing to you as my daughter has expressed an interest in you during this social season. Before my death I wanted to see her married and I was hoping you could be the person that could make her happy. Please write as soon as you can with an answer, I don’t know how much longer I have.

~Vincent I am sorry to hear about your illness and how it has been affecting you. I appreciate your forwardness in your letter and have thought about it. Your daughter has indeed made me happy in the brief time that I had known her. It seems as if we had reached some sort of understanding in our growing relationship. I would be honored to take her as a wife with your permission. ~

Ernest that is wonderful news I have written to Clara to come to Edgewater as soon as possible. I urge you to do the same to sort out all paperwork and the ceremony. I have arranged for a marriage by special license here in our home presided by Bishop Monroe. Clara should be prepared when she gets here, and I pray you will be there at the same time.

With that he was off as he wondered if Clara had left or not yet. That didn’t seem to matter as he had all his paperwork with him that was at his townhouse and would stop by at Ledford on the way. This was really happening he thought with a sharp intake of breath. He was marrying Clara tonight as a shiver ran down his spine. He glanced out the window as they were already on the outskirts of London as they would be there by nightfall.

He wondered if Henrietta and the rest of the family knew as he just read through his paperwork. Ernest would be there soon enough as the city disappeared behind him. If anything, leaving London was a saving grace.

He sighed as he thought of Clara already at Edgewater preparing to marry him. She wouldn’t have a new dress this late but that was all for naught of what would come tonight. He gazed out the window wondering if she would want to return for the rest of the season or willing to stay at Ledford to help care for her ailing father. Content, he sighed as he just watched the country side glide on by.

++++

“Father wants me to return to Edgewater,” said Clara as she read over the last part of the letter as she froze then made sure that they were alone. “And I’m getting married.”

“What!?” said Annabelle alarmed.

“He has a correspondence with an eligible suitor that had agreed to the union,” she said as she read the letter again. “I had written to father about my interest in Mr. Sinclaire, he had written to him about marriage, and Mr. Sinclaire had agreed. He had kept it quiet to get all the paperwork arranged and a proper time with Bishop Monroe. Father wants to keep this from Lady Grandmother and my step-family for right now before they could put a stop to it.”

That wasn’t going to be hard as she barely talked to countess Henrietta. If she knew she would put a stop to it for Mr. Marlcaster to inherit. And if Lady Grandmother knew she might have her married to the Duke faster than she could say yellow fever.

“This is good, you like Mr. Sinclaire and he obviously likes you,” said Annabelle.

“I guess I was expecting him to do it,” she said her eyes glued to the letter. “Maybe get down on one knee.”

“Maybe he would have done it at the end of the season,” said Annabelle. “This just accelerated his plans.”

Clara let out a sigh as she put on a determined face as she carefully removed the bottom half the letter. “No matter,” she said. “I’ll get a carriage prepared with my things. I’ll leave a letter for everyone saying that father’s illness has turned for the worse and I had left before them. I have to see father, I need to see him, he’s the only parent I have left.”

Annabelle rubbed her back as the front door opened as she saw Lady Grandmother enter.

“Clara what is wrong?” asked Dominique as she saw the tears drying on her face.

“It’s the earl,” said Annabelle.

“His sickness got worse,” said Clara as she showed her the top half of the letter.

“Vincent surely must be mistaken,” said Dominique as she read over the letter. “He wasn’t so sick when I had left.” Her mind whirled as she wondered what people would say if she just left the season. There was already enough talk caused by Henrietta and this would just fuel the flames.

“I’ll go,” said Clara. “And you can just stay here, and I’ll see how urgent it is. I’ll write if something happens with father.”

“Yes, yes,” she said as she sat down. “I don’t think I could make the trip.”

Clara nodded as she bit her bottom lip before going to the carriage as she couldn’t help but worry.

Once her stuff was packed she turned her attention to the road to Edgewater. Her mind whirling with the possibilities of what would happen next. Was her father going to die? How long did he have left? Fear filled her with dread as this was the only parent she had left. She couldn’t lose him and mama too, she thought, miserable with each growing question.

And Ernest, she thought as her mind spun, he agreed to marrying her. Was it out of respect for a dying man or did he really care? She thought he cared for her. He treated her with kindness and that night after the opera. They had nearly kissed as that made her smile. She was confident that he was marrying her for love. She watched as London grew smaller behind as one day she would be back.

++++++++++++++

They had arrived at the same time as Clara had given Ernest a small smile as the door opened. In the middle of it stood the countess with Bishop Monroe. So her father was prepared as Clara squared her shoulders as she and Ernest walked in together.

“You can go in first,” said Ernest, his voice just above a whisper, to her as there were several people outside the bedroom door. Including two men that she didn’t recognize that spoke with Ernest. She shrugged before softly opening the door to her father’s room.

He brightened up as he saw her as he sat up. “Clara,” wheezed Vincent as she sat next to him. He wiped hair from her face as he cupped her cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here before…”

“Father you’re not going to die, not here not now,” she said as she kept her voice strong.

“I must apologize though. I was hoping your wedding would be after the season, alas, I wanted to see you married before my passing. I know I should have waited, I understand if you are angry with me.”

Clara held her breath as she put a hand on his chest. “Father you should save your strength,” she said not exactly thrilled by the arrangement. She was hoping that he would propose himself and after the season was over. However, this was more important. “I understand why you did it and I’m not angry. I just want to make you happy.”

“Oh my dear girl you are making me happy,” said Vincent as he nodded toward the door.

Clara came over as she opened it to have the Bishop, Ernest, and then Henrietta with the other man. The ceremony had gone off without a hitch as she tried not to pay too much attention to Henrietta glancing at the door. Then she didn’t want to watch her father too long. It did warm her heart as her father was grinning at her and Ernest. She made him proud as she felt a small tear run down her cheek as Ernest brushed it away for her.

“My barrister wants a few words with you,” he whispered softly in her ear. “When you’re ready.”

She nodded as she wanted to bring something up with him anyway. Clara wanted to talk to her father and the barrister about possibly splitting Edgewater with Mr. Marlcaster.

“Of course,” she said as she glanced at the floor. “Ernest…” Her voice low so only he could hear her. “Thank you for agreeing. I don’t think I could imagine marrying anyone else... I’d imagine Lady Grandmother wanted to marry me to the Duke and I know that would have never made me happy.”

“I wouldn’t have let it,” he said as Clara kissed his cheek affectionately as he touched the spot where her lips were on his face.

Ernest just smiled as he too her hand and kissed it. His lips lingered on the inside of her wrist as he looked her up and down ready for the night. They would consummate their wedding as a chill ran down his spine. He could only imagine her saying his name in ecstasy. He couldn’t wait as Clara’s glare rested on the door leading to Vincent’s’ room.

She went into the room intending not to stay up late. It wasn’t until after dark did they reach their room at the same time. Tonight, was going to be one that they couldn’t forget.

~Time Skip~

“I have come to invite Lady Clara of Edgewater personally to my ball,” said the duke holding a letter in his hand. Everyone in the room shared a look as they had to tell him and the rest of society soon. He looked around the room as Dominique stood up.

“Of course, we will be there,” she said proudly not acknowledging her granddaughter. They couldn’t exactly answer for her anymore.

Duke Richards nodded as his eyes narrowed looking for Lady Clara herself. “Is she not here?” he inquired. Perhaps she had gone to the opera with Prince Hamid. That boy and Mr. Sinclaire were not going to get between him and what he wanted. His eyes on the prize of all of Edgewater at his fingertips and pretty little wife to go with it.

“You haven’t heard?” asked Miss Sutton as a puzzled look cross her face. She thought everyone would have heard. “The earl has gotten worse and she and Mr. Marlcaster left for Edgewater a few weeks ago. My dear fiancé will be returning soon however.”

A few weeks?!

“Well that is sad to hear,” he said, “I give you my condolences, I only wish that he gets better soon.” Even better the earl wasn’t going to be in his way and never know what happened.

They shared another collective look as Lady Grandmother stood up with her shoulders straight. She was going to have to tell people that Clara had married they were just waiting for the month to be up.

“She’s also not coming back for the rest of the season,” said Miss Sutton continuing her story, as the duke gaped at her. What on earth? She had to come back for the rest of the season the doctors could care for the earl in his time of need.

Dominique just hoped Miss Sutton could deliver the rest of the news or if she should do it herself.

“That is true and once we receive word we will be returning to Edgewater,” said Dominique. “Clara will not be returning for the rest of the season however. During her time assisting with her father she had married at his insistence, to Mr. Sinclaire.”

WHAT?! That wasn’t possible, they didn’t even have an engagement or anything. He felt himself start to grow angry but shouldn’t show it to either of the women in the room.

“I think it’s sweet,” said Miss Sutton as she smiled sweetly. “The earl wanted to see Clara married before he passed so they had it arranged. Oh I can’t wait to tell people. I hear she might even be with child.”

With that Duke Tristian Richards fainted back into the flower beds outside of the London townhouse. He was too late.

#desire and decorum #desire and decorum 2 #ernest sinclaire #mc x ernest sinclaire #mr sinclaire #mr. sinclair #mc x mr. sinclaire #mr. sinclaire #playchoices fanfiction #playchoices #choices you play #choices: stories you play #choices stories you play

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titleknown · 6 years

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Three Spooky Fictional Knockoff Toylines!

That’s right, as the big writing piece for this spooky time of year, it’s three spooky toylines ripping off bigger properties in a way that do not exist.

These are all public domain/CC0, free to use for whatever you see fit, though crediting me and linking to my Patreon or Ko-Fi would be nice.

Shoutout to @genustoys, @phelous and @therobotmonster for heavily inspiring these with their work!

Now, LET US BEGIN!

Monsterlords of the Nether Realms- This line is an odd duck in that it was a knockoff of a toyline that wasn't all that popular. Namely, Inhumanoids.

It was seemingly designed to be cross-compatible with the large monsters of that line, yet in all irony it stuck around seemingly far longer, likely due to the lower price points it was was able to get away with due to being a “non-branded” product and the cross-compatibility of play pattern with the larger figures.

And they were shockingly lavish for what was seemingly a “low rent” property, which has lead to suspicions of it and its related properties being a money-laundering scheme, or at least cover for something unsavory, though others say it could simply be good craftsmanship and the evidence in favor of and against such is perhaps a story for another day.

There were five of them that ended up bumping around store shelves, give or take a few “extras,” which we will cover as they come.

The first piece; likely intended as the “mascot” due to its prescence in promotional artwork is the one known as MOLINTHA, or “ANTHILL EVIL” on certain variants, a large figure encased in a roughly mountain shaped “shell” when curled in a specific position; with an ominous “maw” that turned into a torso when the figure was uncurled.

The mountain pieces themselves (Which were free-standing on their own) provided a large amount of play value with platforms seemingly shaped for various 3&¾-inch figures, but the body itself was a gorgeous design, with the “scaffolding” where the mountain clicked on turning into a series of platforms for figures to climb and clamber over,

The articulation was low, but the sculpting was pleasantly gnarly, resembling some dark ancient castle covered in mystic carving given humanoid form, without an articulated head but instead a snarling “maw” in which figures could be placed inside. Though, there has been some speculation that this head was ripped off a similar design from the front of the classic D&D Dungeon Master's Guide, and I would be lying if I did not see the resemblance.

As expected, it did not come with any figures, but did come with a large assortment of commonly-circulated plastic “bugs” molded in a clear rubbery plastic; along with a few of the notorous “Chinasaurs” that ended up as the basis for D&D monsters bizarrely enough.

The second known most commonly as “LEVIATHOIN” was a piece that had a similar yet wildly different gimmick. The main “body” was actually simply an inanimate idol, which one might say resembles a very specific image of Baphomet, but the smaller figures were of real interest.

Four five-inch ones, bearing an odd resemblance to a scaled-down Molhilintta minus the scaffolding and with a few odd tweaks, with a similar simple articulation scheme, but also a feature in which the arms and legs could “click” together tightly, which leads to the real draw of such.

Each figure attached to a socket in the main “idol” and functioned as a crude combiner., forming a huge “creature”. Each figure could function as n arm or a leg on either side, and the color variants (Including a few alledged remolds of these torsoes) could be their own article in and of themselves.

The third known as MECHA-SHAG was an extremely simple design and yet also one of the most bizarre of them all. It was a hairy “core” akin to the Masters of the Universe Grizzlor, but with a strange robotic face; limbs and at least a dozen missile launchers. They were Micronauts-styled “safety” missiles, but still fascinatingly odd all the same. There is evidence for the pieces origin as a possible Shogun Warriors/Jumbo Machinder knockoff, but again that is a detail for another day.

The fourth one was known as RUCIBEDO, and was unusual even for this line. It was a stylized kaiju-esque “pterodactyl” with a flapping action; its oddly “bio-mechanical” look seemingly giving credence to the idea that the enigmatic company behind the linwas making a Shogun Warriors knockoff-series before they decided to switch gears, but those are not the only notable parts.

The most blatant one is the fact that it is sculpted in a bright red; translucnet plastic, and not only that but had electric lights wired to the flapping mechanism in some bizarrely spacious “alcoves” in the back (Possibly for aborted missile-firing features), creating an immensely striking effect. Albeit one that had a tendency to break; though there are repair guides out there.

And the fifth PLUCHUN is an odd duck, because it should by all accounts be considered kind of a “ripoff” due to using far less material for the same price point as the others, but is often the most fondly remembered.

It is a small torso seemingly made of organic “pipes with a “hatch” on the head and a button slightly below. It also came with a small container of “slime” indicating its function. Namely, put it in the back of the head; press the button repeatedly; and the slime drips out of the holes in the creature, with a pumping rubber “heart” completing the effect. Weirdly; while the rubber on most of these has rotted off, there appears to be a fully sculpted (Albeit much cruder) “heart” that still moved in and out when the button was pressed.

The whole thing was capped off by immensely long rubbery bendy-limbs in the same style as the “main body's” pipes. These tended to be very fragile, and while memorable, this has the fewest surviving specimens out of them all.

As said before, there are other specimens that may be covered at a later date; such as the odd hand-puppet and the bizarrely remolded Imperial Dinosaurs linked to the line and the smaller-range figures, but this is running a bit long, so I'll leave it here for now.

Nightmare Gores- Relating to the preponderance of He-Man knockoff figure lines in the 80s, and the popularity of slasher films, it was only a matter of time that the two would be combined, in ways only possible without mass-fundie-protest at least) in small lines like this.

In striking red-and-black packaging with crude art of a horde of ghoulish monsters rseemingly ripping out of the card back, with the bizarrely memorable phrase of “WE WILL KILL YOU” coming out of a word balloon, there's relatively few things like it.

It used a standard barbarian body whose origins predated the line; but from where they predated was a matter of debate (Though it is known that it most certainly was original to that company and not a He-Man or Galaxy Hole bootleg(), all the same across the line with differing headsculpts.

The headsculpts did have consistent names, and one could tell their inspirations relatively well. Joe was obviously a Freddy Kreuger without the hat, the hockey-masked Rod was obviously Jason Voorhees, Mike was very obviously a riff on Michael Jackson's Thriller Werecat (Corroborated with the usual non-caucasian color of his body sculpt) and Gross was blatantly the Toxic Avenger. Mush was a generalized “melting” face, but could be said to be taken from Cropsey of The Burning; and Hexen's gas mask was likely inspired by My Bloody Valentine's main antagonist; albeit with bizarrely added devil horns.

Then there are the oddballs. Clash is a fan-favorite alongsid Hexen due to his pure black-plastic body and strange hood in striking red with a black void for a front and two piercing red pupils, but I like Frank a lot if only for being a big ridiculous Frankenstein head repurposed for this, as was what I would call the “Baltard” of this line Stall-9 with his slighly crossed eyes and almost comical grin negating whatever intimidation factory they might have. Redd caps off the line with the strange combination of bull and horse head designs obviously repurposed from the barbarian toyline this comes from in a way that still sorta works.

Their pack in accessories vary across production, but there are some commonalities. Mike; Rod; Hexen and Clash almost always came with cool red vinyl “jackets” and Tedd and Frank almost always came with bizzarrely realistic handguns molded in bright orange. And Stal-9; Mush and Clash came with a “chainsaw: very clearly remolded from a gun.

The rest were a mushmash of machetes and hammers, and knives; axes and clubs that were clearly re-utilized from the original line. There are other “relatives” like the Killer Beasts and the Murder Lady, but we'll leave it here for now.

ShineFriendz- One of the many Tamagochi-come-latelies in the 90s, this line tried valiantly to differentiate itself from the usual Tamagochi clones by giving itself a backlite, far more extensive interaction within the limits of its mono-colored pixel art and a link function for “playtimes,” All in a model approximately the size of a modern day smartphone, and to be supported with early web tie-ins in lieu of an expensive animated series.

Of course, the fact that it was its parent company's first venture into such things; a battery company to be exact (Hence why they felt so secure in being battery-eaters), there was very little oversight into the programming. And, due to a series of circumstances too stupid to mention, the devices had far more memory than they anticipated, and far more than they would need for the device's intended functions.

And, what happens when you have bored programmers and lots of time, you get easter eggs. Lots and lots of unsettling easter eggs. To the point where they took up approximately as much space as the “main” games.

So, they were immensely easy to run into during play, but they went unnoticed by corporate during the first three iterations of the pets. The most notorious of them was the possible evolution called only BREATHING which looked like an emaciated and decrepit eyeless version of the brand's canid mascot-species the Buroof that was continually doing what its name implied and had a legion of ominous quirks too long to list here.

Despite rumors, surprisingly none of the glitches involved causing death or injury to any of the pets. Though, that still didn't make them any less fucked up, with such examples as a “pet” known as BRILT that took the form of continual flame graphic that at times would flicker to the outline of another; random pet, to the weird “bird” known as CAUSE whose pleasure meter would go up if you hit the scold button,

There's a full list of “AnomalyFriendz” (the usual fan nickname0 that's too long to list here, but it wasn't limited to them, with such things as a “Game” that involved running from what looked like a crude pair of jaws to a “food” that looked like a wad with what was unmistakably eyes. And the web fiction didn't help, given how the actual text stories were dark , reading more like if Clive Barker wrote Watership Down with it just being barely within what was “appropriate” for kids, with increasingly less subtle allusions to the “AnomalyFriendz”

The minority of parental complaints weren't what got the execs notice however, it was actually the fans of the property, young girls who wrote in asking about those glitches. Not even in disapproving tones either, just asking whether they were intentional, or even asking if playground rumors (Or the rumors circulating across the website's own forums) were true.

This lead to them trying to integrate the macabre bits into the actual marketing for the toys, with the fourth iteration “FreakyFriendz,” with a cleverly altered shell with an ominously warped corner and more integration of the “anomalous” and “regular” Friends. And that is what sunk the line.

Because, parents actually noticed and; since this was the 90s; they bitched up a storm, leading to most of them being removed from shelves. Which is a shame, because enthusiasts say these were the best models yet.

The company left the business shortly thereafter, but there remains a small cult fandom to this day; complete with officially sanctioned web-iterations and even a few (sadly stillborn) attempts at full on revivals. But, maybe someday...

#action figures #toys #fictional toys #public domain #horror #things that need to exist #things that don't exist #macabre #weird #bootlegs #knockoffs

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convivialcamera · 7 years

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On Deadline: Get Reaction

Previously

Dougal and Jamie loomed before me on an unusually slow Wednesday morning, newspapers and notebooks in hand.

“Did you see this?” Dougal demanded, plonking yesterday’s local section down on my desk. A brief was circled in blue ballpoint: Leoch inmate found hanged in cell. I hadn’t seen it, but it was never a good idea to admit I wasn’t reading the paper cover-to-cover every day. “We’ve been following this case for a year and the kid just up and…” He made a futile gesture with his hands. “Go with Jamie and talk to MacGregor’s mother.”

I was reading the brief as he spoke. “It’s a suicide. Shouldn’t we be hounding the coroner, not his mom?” Jamie made a face at me that clearly stated, “That’s what I said!”

Dougal had already fended off this argument: “We’re doing both. Obviously we need to be sensitive to the family.” He said this offhandedly, as a matter of form. “But don’t come back until you get reaction and art.” And then he spun on his heel and stalked back to his office.

I was carefully considering my gear. Huge cameras and lenses tended to spook people in sensitive situations, so I reached for two pancake lenses, and then popped them into my smaller bag. I could tell Jamie was watching me as I gathered my things and slipped into my jacket.

“Can you drive?”

“I drove last time,” I said, but reached for my keys. “It’s your turn.”

“It’s not that I wouldn’t,” he said quickly, “but I can’t. I only have the one helmet and…”

“Oh! So, the motorcycle in the parking lot is yours?” He nodded, a bit sheepishly, but then smiled so radiently it was like the sun came out. “I’ll take you out on it sometime.”

It was tempting to smile back, but I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed towards the back door (I’d discovered a new shortcut to the parking lot). “You should take Laoghaire,” I said with more edge than I meant, and cringed to myself.

“Nah, but maybe your husband wants to try it out?”

I deserved that, I was sure.

Alexander MacGregor’s mother lived in Cranesmuir, one of Leoch’s shabbier neighborhoods. Run-down duplexes — some with pit bulls perched on the roof — lined the ill-maintained road, and as I pulled onto High Street I felt a stab of pity for the young man who had felt so much despair. “You should go in alone,” I said, quietly. “Two of us might be intimidating.”

Jamie thought about this a moment. “No, I think I need you in there. You’re way less intimidating than me.” He was a towering giant made of lean muscle, and if his mop of red curls was charming, the sharp bones of his face and slant of his eyes were those of a fierce ancient warrior. “Just hide your camera until she’s accustomed to us. And maybe do the introductions?”

Alice MacGregor was a slip of a woman, with thin brown hair and deep-sunk, grief-filled eyes. She answered the door after my soft knock, and eyed us with suspicion from behind the lock chain. “Who are you?”

I took a deep breath, steading myself. “I’m Claire, and this is Jamie. We’re with the Leoch Times and we’d like to speak with you about your son, Alexander.”

The woman’s whole body tensed, as if drawing herself up to do battle. “You people! He just died!” She inhaled, preparing for an onslaught. Alice’s grief and rage radiated so potently that it made me want to weep alongside her.

I looked her straight in the eye. “Please, we just want to know about Alex from the people who loved him.” Alice examined me speculatively, and read the truth on my face. She deflated, like a balloon pricked by a needle, and opened the door wide. Jamie patted my shoulder in approval and followed her inside the small, dark living room. She sat in a chair, and Jamie on the end of a worn couch. I sat gingerly on the other end, my bag at my feet.

Jamie, with a look of tender concern, explained the preliminaries: he was a reporter, and anything she said could end up in the newspaper. If she wanted to go off-the-record for any information they needed to agree beforehand. It was a fine bit of interview prep, and I warmed to how kindly he spoke with her. He had nice feelings.

“Tell me what your son was like in school,” Jamie began.

Alice’s face lit up in memory, and then almost crumbled. “He was funny, his teachers loved him. Not so good as some kids, you know, but good. For here.” It was obvious she meant Cranesmuir, which had a reputation for poor schools and even poorer students. “He was on the track team. He loved to run.”

“What did he do after high school?”

“He tried a few classes at Leoch Community, but it was tough. We couldn’t scrape together the money, and he had to work. The jobs weren’t enough, but he always helped me out when he could. Helped me keep this place.”

And on it went. Alex was smart, and had kept trying to get back into college, or get better jobs and work his way up, but nothing panned out. Sometimes it was a racist boss, or a car that just couldn’t get him to work on time. And so, like so many young men from the neighborhood, he floundered, and then…

“I couldn’t believe it when he was arrested,” Alice said emphatically. “Alex, my Alexander, had never been in trouble.”

At this, Jamie’s face revealed a small bit of skepticism. “Never?”

“Oh, it was kid’s stuff.” Alice waved her hand, dismissing. “He spray painted a brick wall and got caught when he was 16. He got community service, and I made him go; he did all of it. And I made him swear that he’d never do anything like it again. Alex didn’t lie.” She was on the verge of tears again.

“Did you visit him in jail?”

Alice’s face darkened. “That place is a dungeon. Everyone knows the police don’t treat people correctly.”

“What did he tell you?”

“He didn’t tell me anything. But he’d be roughed up. Bruises, cuts. One time I saw a circular burn on his upper arm.”

“You don��t think it was the other prisoners?”

“No.” She looked at him, hard in the eye. “Can I tell you something without it going in the paper?”

“Off the record?” Jamie asked. She nodded. “OK.”

“Captain Jack Randall. From the fort.”

“What about him?”

“He visited Alex in prison.”

“And?”

“I think he was beating up my boy.”

I watched Jamie’s brain whirl through a slew of possibilities, but then he closed off the line of questioning. “Can we go back on the record now?”

At the end, I pulled out my camera. “Alice, do you have any photos of Alex? I’d like to take your picture with one.” I knew it was a little cliché, but I also knew I could get some lovely morning light out of the lone front window. Alice produced an old school photo of her son, posed in front of the cloudy gray backdrop that was so common to picture day, and framed in a cheap black plastic frame. Alex had been gawky, but smiled with an extraordinary kindness that belied his end.

I pulled out my 50-millimeter lens and opened the aperture wide while speeding up my shutter in the hopes of capturing the ephemeral rays of light speckled with dust in my frame. I pulled the cheap armchair from the corner next to the window, so when I sat Alice down the light illuminated the side of her face, as well as the portrait of her son she held cradled in her arms.

Jamie watched me intently as I drove us away; I could almost feel his gaze cutting into me while he sat in the passenger seat. I kept my eyes resolutely on the road, silently willing my cheeks to stop blazing.

Finally, frustrated by my failure, I snapped: “What?”

“How is your husband not your husband?” Jamie asked.

“How are you ‘not exactly’ on the board?” I shot back, pulling one of my hands off the wheel to make sarcastic air quotes.

He chuckled. “Oh. I just observe at board meetings. I can’t talk. I can’t vote. I can just listen. It’s part of the agreement my uncles made with my dad when my mom died — she was their sister, you know?”

“Part of the family business?”

“Yep, Dougal’s girls and Colum’s son are all too young, and my sister isn’t interested at all, so I’m the one they’re training up to take over when the time comes.”

“Ah.” I said, noncommittally. Jamie fell silent, clearly waiting for me answer his own question.

I drew in a deep breath, trying to find the courage to talk about it. “I left him months ago, after an assignment went south.”

“You’re not divorced?”

“We’re not anything. It’s been over a long time.” Jamie huffed a bit at this, in disbelief. “The rest is just, you know, legalities,” I said defensively.

“Legalities?” He sounded incredulous.

“It’s all lawyers and stuff, OK? I left Frank after Libya, haven’t talked to him since, and now I’m here, and that’s that.”

“Sounds like you owe him an explanation.”

“Well, it also sounds like the future owner of the newspaper shouldn’t be making out with interns in bars, but what would I know?”

That shut him up.

The story ran on the local front, C1, with my portrait of Alice MacGregor and her grief-stricken eyes surrounded by shining rays of light at three-and-a-half columns. Jamie stood next to me at the morning meeting, the day’s section fronts tacked up on the wall, and nudged my shoulder.

“Alice might have been right about the captain,” he said softly to me, as we waited for everyone to gather.

“Oh?”

“Got a hold of the visitor logs. One Jonathan Randall visited MacGregor about ten or so times while he was in jail. And here’s the kicker: Randall’s the one Alex stole from.”

“What?” I said, louder than I intended. A few people turned to look at me strangely. Jamie smiled politely, and faces turned away.

“Right? There’s more to this story than what we’ve got.”

#On Deadline fic #outlander fanfic #jamie x claire

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samingtonwilson · 7 years

Text

Return - Part 8 - Jim Kirk

Part 7

Summary: series following the events of loot– takes place during events of star trek beyond. in this chapter, you’re reunited with a friend and it feels so good.

Warnings: language,

A/N: parts of this i love, parts of it i don’t. that’s life, though, i guess

It took more effort than you thought necessary to climb the extensive ladder in Jaylah’s “home” seeing as you were short a healthy arm and plagued with pre-existing exhaustion. But once you made it up to the dingy, dust-covered bridge that resembled models you’d seen in the San Francisco Starfleet Museum, you let yourself fall into a chair facing one of the many consoles.

You swiveled in your seat as Jim came aboard, Scotty walking ahead of him and gesturing to the ship exaggeratedly. You swung your legs over one of the armrests as your back rested against the other, you tipped your head back and shut your eyes.

“This is the USS Franklin, sir. Can you believe it? First Earth ship capable of warp four.”

You snorted to yourself, opening your eyes and mumbling under your breath, “Scotty would find that to be the most interesting factoid.”

“Went missing in the Gagarin Radiation Belt in the early 2160’s.”

Jim hummed, approaching the view screen and helmsmen chairs. “I remember that from the Academy. Captain Balthazar Edison, one of the first heroes of Starfleet. How the hell did his ship end up here?”

You looked at Jaylah as she stepped beside you, righting your head as the strain on your sore neck became too much. “So you live here?”

She glanced at you and nodded. Her arms were crossed over her chest, rumpling the grey shirt she wore. There wasn’t any malice in her eyes, just a general apathy— you found it amusing. “Yes.”

“It’s nice— I like what you've done with the place.”

“— but Jaylah has done a marvelous job of gettin’ the ship’s systems back online,” Scotty finished, gesturing to the tall woman beside you.

When Chekov managed to activate the bridge’s lights, you squinted at the sudden brightness, watching as Jaylah nodded once in appreciation and took the captain’s seat before Jim could plant himself down in it.

She ignored his “pardon me” seamlessly. “Thank you, Montgomery Scotty.”

Jim looked at you and tried not to smile at the amusement brightening your features, walking to you and pausing there.

“I think I’m in love with her,” you said, smiling up at him as he rolled his eyes.

“Mr. Chekov,” he called, still a hint of a smile pulling at his lips. “Plug in the coordinates. See if you can track the crew’s location from the ship’s sensors.”

Chekov took a seat at one of the larger consoles, nodding. “Aye, Captain.”

Jim nodded back. “Mr. Scott, tour.”

“Yes, the mess hall,” Scotty said, motioning towards the doorway behind you. “Jaylah, if you will.”

Jim nodded at you to follow, laughing silently as you groaned dramatically and rose from your seat. You walked beside him, pushing his shoulder when he stopped to pat the top of the captain’s chair.

“You’re such a child.”

He only laughed in response.

The corridors of the ship were dark. Each wall was a deep grey that didn’t seem to have the overhead lights the Enterprise was almost overly equipped with. The ceilings were lower and a faint damp smell tickled your nose as you followed Scotty and Jaylah, staggering a bit behind Jim to make sure he didn’t accidentally bump into your arm.

The mess hall was small— much, much smaller than that of the Enterprise— and was furnished with one large table surrounded by several chairs, a large black couch, and a few smaller tables covered in metallic tools on the other end.

Tucked into the side, though, only visible as you brushed past Jim, was an old-school motorcycle. It seemed out of place, but nicely so.

You smiled at it, looking around the rest of the room as Jim toyed with a fuzzy-screened console, pulling up a video showing the Franklin crew occupying the space in its hay-day.

“No clue what happened to the crew, huh?” he asked, still staring at the screen with a slight green tint.

Scotty made a noise from deep in his throat. “No, sir. They’d be dead a hundred years by now.”

Jim looked at you and you shrugged, his eyes leaving yours to spot the motorbike you were previously taken by. A sudden flash of recognition crossed his features and he smiled as he walked toward it. “Is that a— That’s a PX70.”

He chuckled, crouching down beside it. “Wow. My dad used to have one of these when he was a kid. My mom said he’d put her on the back of it, drive her nuts.”

Scotty cleared his throat when Jim reached up to touch the faded leather seat. “Sir?”

Jim nodded and stood up, wiped clean of his smile. He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “So you’re telling me this thing’s been here this whole time and no one’s ever noticed it?”

When Jaylah and Scotty exchanged a look and beckoned Jim to follow them, you stayed put on the couch. You shook your head when Jim motioned for you to follow.

You unzipped your jacket once the three of them left the dusty commissary and tossed it aside. You placed your injured wrist atop your healthy hand and turned it gently, staring down at the aching appendage with a scowl.

With a sigh, you pulled the sleeve of your dirty red uniform over the makeshift bandage and stood up, tucking your phaser into your boot.

Before you could vacate the mess hall, you stopped at the screen. Pressing the play button, you watched the cheerful crew members have indistinct conversations and laugh as they shared meals or played games.

Something pinched at the edge of your throat when you thought of their fate, of their intentions to explore the universe only to plummet down on some unknown planet.

Shaking your head at the thought, you walked through the corridor from which you entered, made a pit-stop in a room you found to be a bathroom to wash your face, and headed for the bridge.

You greeted Chekov as you stepped through the door. “Find anything?”

He was smiling brightly— the sight made you smile, too. “I think so. It’s a Starfleet frequency!”

You motioned towards the door with sweeping hand gestures. “Then go! Go tell Jim.”

He left you on the bridge for a few minutes, your hip leant against the console with one of your arms hugging your torso as the team of four walked through the entryway. You smiled at Chekov as he excitedly took the same seat as before, toying with the static-prone console.

“Can you lock onto the signal?” Jim asked, his arms resting on the console from the other end, his voice as tired as his posture.

“Yes, but how do we get to them?”

Scotty raised his hand from beside you. He looked uncertain. “I have an idea, sir. But I’m gonna need your permission.”

Jim’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you need my permission?”

“Because if I mess it up, I don’t want it to be just my fault.”

You frowned and nodded. It seemed reasonable to you.

Minutes later, as you watched Scotty tinker with the grimy and rusted transporter pad several decks below the bridge, you stood beside Jim and cleared your throat. “That was a cute story.”

He hummed in confusion, staring straight ahead at the engineer that would hiss after every pop of electricity.

You watched as said engineer jumped up with a scowl twisting his features, his hands covered in black soot. “About your mom and dad, and that bike.”

Jim glanced at you for a short moment and you felt his eyes run over your profile. He hummed again. “Frank got rid of it as soon as he could. Haven’t seen it since I was a kid. Just got a little excited, I guess.”

“There’s an old car lot on Shellmound Street in Emeryville,” you told him, running your fingers through your finally-combed hair. “It’s over the Bay Bridge and, like, five minutes out of San Francisco. I’ve seen plenty of bikes like that there before— red, black, blue, you name it.”

He stared at you then. Though he’d intended to only glance once more, something kept his eyes there, something prevented him from feigning nonchalance. “You think they’d still have ‘em?”

“Obviously I haven’t been on Earth for a while, but before I left for the artifact, the same ones stood there as from when I was in high school.”

You let yourself meet Jim’s gaze. You regretted it instantly when you saw the way he looked at you, you felt so undeserving of such a gaze, too small to be given so much. You had to clear your throat again. “It’s doubtful they would’ve gotten rid of them so soon.”

“And you just casually hung out at an old car lot in high school?”

“One of my aunt’s exes owns the place. He was one of the better ones— hid my every mistake from her, made sure I was out of sight when her temper acted up, really just protected me whenever he could. Bones reminds me of him sometimes— just, you know, somehow older.”

Jim laughed through his nose at that, still unable to shift his focus back to Scotty.

“After they ended, I still spent time with his sons and that meant being on the car lot often. It’s where I learned to drive stick.”

“You can drive stick?” he asked, raising his eyebrows with a frown of consideration. “You’ll have to teach me some time.”

“You can’t drive stick?”

“I can, I just think you’d be an awful teacher. Impatient, rude, overly concerned about the car.”

You elbowed his side and snorted. “I’ll have you know I’m a great teacher.”

“Yeah?”

You hummed. “You’d be lucky to learn from me.”

“I’ll pencil it in.” Jim’s smile was small as he finally looked away and gave you a chance to breathe. He cleared his throat. “So you can get me a discount? Since you know the owner.”

“You’re paid enough to not need a discount. And, I mean, I could just steal it for you as a birthday present,” you offered playfully, laughing when he looked at you incredulously. “What are you going to do with a bike on a starship anyway? Don’t you wreak havoc on that poor crew enough?”

He opened his mouth to tell you of his plans to stay on Yorktown, to ground himself indefinitely— but he’d gotten sleep last night.

He was able to sleep on the insect-infested, dirt-covered, twig and leafy ground— and he wasn’t tired. There was a renewed resolve in him, something that propelled him forward rather than keeping him on the carousel he’d likened the last two years to.

He thought it was funny that a good night’s sleep was all it took, but he reconsidered that notion the moment he glanced at you again to follow the slight curve of your smiling lips. It wasn’t the sleep.

“Wait,” he said after a few moments. “How’d you know my birthday’s coming up?”

“Bones,” you shrugged. “He said you aren’t looking forward to it.”

“He tell you why?”

You nodded. “He did, s’why I offered to steal the bike for you— give you a piece of your father before you move on to a chapter of your life he never got to experience in his.”

You looked over at Jim when he remained silent, nodding upwards with a small smile when you caught his gape. “What?”

There was a loud whirring as Scotty flipped a final switch and he made a noise of victory before planting himself in the seat behind the large, almost intimidating console. “We’re all set!”

Jim looked away and nodded. “Right, yes. Great.”

Scotty pressed a few more buttons that let out almost embarrassing beeps and, before you and Jim could react, a burst of white, silver, and blue static flashed about the pad and created the half-Vulcan you could never recall being so happy to see.

He staggered as he climbed off the pad, though. His skin was paler than usual and his uniform was stained.

Despite that, as he neared the three of you, Jim smiled at him. “Good to see you, Spock.”

Spock only nodded, placing his hand below his ribs.

“Commander, are you—”

You weren’t able to get another word out as another flash of static materialized a scowling Leonard in a defensive stance, fists raised before his nose.

He visibly jumped at the change in scenery, placing his hands against his stomach and widening his scowl to a confused one. He stared around him in horrified wonderment.

“Good to see you in one piece, Doctor,” Scotty said, now standing at the doorway.

“Oh, am I?” he asked, making you snort a laugh. He met Scotty’s amused eyes. “I feel like my innards have been to a barn dance.”

Scotty placed his hand atop Leonard’s shoulder. “Aye, well, these old transporters were only ever used for cargo, but a few modifications seemed to do the trick. I thought it was best to beam you one at a time, though. You know, in case you got spliced.”

Leonard spotted you and Jim, and relief washed over his features— it seemed to sober him up as he took steady steps. “Oh. I couldn’t imagine a worse scenario.”

“Not fooling anyone, Bones,” you sang as he pulled you into a tight hug.

He eyed you warily when you hissed at the contact between his body and your wrist. But, before he could ask you about it, Jim took his attention from you. “Good to have you back. You all right?”

The doctor waved his hand. “Yeah, I’m fine. He’s hurt— and, by the looks of it, so are you, sweetheart,” he looked at you once more.

You shook your head. “Commander Spock looks like a higher priority.”

“I am functioning adequately, Captain,” Spock said in a strained voice, his hand clutching Jim’s shoulder.

Leonard snorted. “In a pig’s eye you are.”

“Captain, we discovered that the stolen artifact appears to have come from this planet,” Spock added, grunting and teetering forward until the two men flanking him caught his shoulders and tried to hold him up.

“Damn it, Spock. Are there any medical supplies on this thing?”

Jaylah nodded and asked the trio to follow her as she rushed from the room down another dark corridor.

With a half nod, Leonard beckoned you to follow them and smirked a little at your protesting squeak and subsequent defeated sigh when he told you he could only sit in peace after checking you over.

When you entered the mess hall, Jim was speaking to Spock softly as the latter was laying on the couch and Leonard was handed a bag of medical supplies.

You traced the deep green blood stain darkening Spock’s blue uniform and chewed on your bottom lip as Leonard emptied the bag of supplies, toying with what looked like an ancient tricorder.

“Let’s get you patched up first, okay?” Jim told Spock, kneeling beside the couch and using as gentle of a tone as possible.

“No, Captain,” Spock pushed. “You must focus your efforts on helping the crew.”

“Well, that’s why I need you around, Spock.”

The glances Leonard and Spock exchanged didn’t go unnoticed by you.

Your eyebrows came together and you knelt beside Leonard, pretending to dig through the numerous supplies with him. “You want to tell me what that look was about?”

“What look?”

You clicked your tongue and Leonard sighed in resignation. “You let me deal with that arm you’re absolutely terrible at hidin’ and I’ll tell you anythin’ you want. Deal?”

You nodded and sat back against your heels. “Deal.”

Jim turned to look at the two of you questioningly and Leonard shrugged. “These things are from the Dark Ages.”

As he knelt beside Spock and revved up whatever tool he held, he sighed heavily. “I’m pretty sure this is a protoplaser. Should stop the internal hemorrhaging— ‘least that’s my hope.”

Spock, amidst his heavy breathing and grunts of pain, remarked, “‘The miserable have no other medicine but only hope.’”

As you snorted, Leonard replied dryly, “Death’s door and he’s quotin’ Shakespeare.”

The handheld machine whirred as Leonard ran it over Spock’s injury site, Spock’s torso not ceasing in its subtle writhing.

It was minutes before Leonard was satisfied with his work, bandaging Spock’s torso with what was available and sighing once more. He turned to Scotty. “You got any spare clothes? He’s bled right through these.”

Scotty nodded. “Aye, there are spare uniforms on board.”

“Jim, take him and help him— I don’t want him movin’ too much. I’ll see what I can do about (Y/N)’s arm.”

Jim nodded and assisted Spock off the couch, hobbling alongside him as they exited the mess hall with Scotty and Jaylah on their heels.

“Hop on, sugar.”

Complying easily, you sat on the couch and leant forward a bit to place your elbows atop your knees. You held your wrapped arm to Leonard and tried miserably to hide winces as he unbound the filthy yellow fabric. “Talk to me.”

“‘Bout what?”

“We had a deal and this—” you let out a loud hiss as your wrist shifted. “This hurts a lot. Distract me with gossip.”

“Spock’s thinkin’ about leavin’ Starfleet.”

You blinked, nearly choking on your breath. “I’m sorry, he’s what?”

Leonard looked up at you and snorted. “Yeah, s’why he and Uhura ended. He wants to help build and populate New Vulcan.”

“Populate.” You gasped a laugh. “Spock wants to get it in with a Vulcan?”

“Uhura’s frustrations make sense now, don’t they?” he asked, scowling at your wrist. “Darlin’, what the fuck happened?”

“You know the man I was deathly afraid of? The one I was supposed to steal the artifact for?” When Leonard nodded, you couldn’t help the rueful smile on your lips. “Yeah, he led the attack on the Enterprise and he might harbor some resentment.”

“Some?” he scoffed. “Speakin’ of that nuisance artifact, where’s it now?”

“Jim hid it on one of the shuttles.”

Leonard looked up at you to gauge your expression. When he determined that you were serious, he sighed. “So we’re fucked, ain't we?”

PART 9

tagging (tell me if you’d like to be added or removed): @outside-the-government@daughterofthebrowncoats @multifandom-slytherin @buckyy3s @cinema212 @caaptain @dani-fae @wonders-of-the-enterprise @imaginesofdreams @the-witching-hours12-3 @kaitymccoy123 @anyakinamidala @vevsee @afluffykiwi @curiositywillbethedeathofme @arielsimaginess @captain-what-is-going-on@micheladakenzo @avengers-earths-mightiest-heroes @eufeme @buriedinfandomsandfeels@ididntmeantobutiaccidentally @avoidthoseeyes @emmkolenn @heartofdixie14 @thnk-you-fr-th-venom @captainveromendes @wickedsingularity @vadersdaycare @samaxraph99

#WE'RE FUCKED AIN'T WE #YES WE R HONEY WE REALLY ARE #im listening to dua lipa as i make this post n i love her so much how talented can one person be #anyways i hope yall liked this part!#jim #jim kirk #jim kirk imagine #kirk imagine #jim kirk x reader #kirk x reader #star trek #star trek beyond #star trek imagine #star trek beyond imagine #captain kirk imagine #captain kirk x reader #imagine kirk #imagine jim kirk #imagine this part actually not sucking

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typhonheroes · 7 years

Text

Journal de Witte

It was Daniel’s idea, through and through. To keep a journal. It felt like a necessity, like if he didn’t do it then no one else would, and frankly no one else would. He wasn’t an important person, not a king or a prince, not even a noble. He couldn’t consider himself a war hero in the slightest, a brave man perhaps but not one who all the world deserved to know about. He was, frankly, just a man, and that made him none too important. So if he wanted anyone to keep track of his life, then he’d need to be the one to do it. That’s why after signing on with Kazu for this little adventure, he’d gone to the local merchant and purchased a leather bound book, pages blank and fresh for the picking. He’d also gone and nabbed an ink well and a feather, for the sake of keeping things consistent.

Then, the night before they were due to leave town and head off on some adventure, Daniel wrote his very first entry.

Year 1140, Month 4, Day 23 Expedition date 0, entry 1

Today is the day of my first journal entry, and perhaps the day of a new way of living. I will be frank. I’d never considered keeping a journal before. When I was younger and life was fast, the prospect of sitting down every night and writing down my thoughts seemed frivolous. Things were too exciting to stop for such pointless tasks, and at a time when I hardly knew how to read it seemed even more foolish to waste my time with a task so frustrating as writing was. The struggle that I endured to learn to read and write in common was eventually all worth it, as being able to sign my own name seemed to big the biggest reward one could have ever given me, aside from the blessing of a hand. Still, even as I grew older I had never thought of keeping a journal. At least not until Akkadia fell. When I saw the hall burn with my own eyes I knew... I knew it was over. The dream was dead. I needed to move on.

This seems like the best way to move on.

I met a boy named Kazu the other day. He’s a sage apparently, serves some goddess name Venna. He’s nice enough, if a bit naive. He already almost got played by a couple of thugs. I stepped in though, because it seems that old habits die hard and I still like playing the hero. Anyway, he offered to pay me to watch his back. It’s easy money, I can’t imagine we’ll get into too much trouble. So that’s where I’m going next. I’m going to be with him, keeping a little log in this journal of mine. Who knows, maybe if I die something else’ll find it and put it to good use. Maybe it’ll serve as an omen, who knows. Whatever happens with it, whatever they do with it, I just hope it does some good.

Year 1140, Month 4, Day 25 Expedition date 1, entry 2

Today we left, Kazu and I. We have spent the last few moons preparing ourselves, buying the necessary supplies and such. We’ve found ourselves with a tent big enough to fit the both of us, a fair amount of rations to manage us for a week or two of hard travel, and a few other necessities that I deemed important (namely a whetstone, a bag of bait, some rope, and a couple other things). This morning I finally checked Indigo out of the stables. He’s been my trusty steed all throughout the years, from when I was a vigilant to now, so it seems fitting that we continue on for as long as my old stallion can bare me. When his time comes I’ll respectfully put him to rest, but until then we are in this all together.

I was a bit worried that Kazu would be intimidated by Indigo. He is a big horse after all, bigger than most. His size and stature has always been a necessity in my line of work. But the sage is already small, a fair bit smaller than me, so I was worried that he’d be overwhelmed. He wasn’t, though. In fact he immediately seemed to adore Indigo. He loves animals it seems, they do treat him far better than people ever have from the looks of it.

Before the sun was high we had packed our things and rode out of the city on Indigo. I was more than happy to leave. That damned place had only been my home begrudgingly. Had it not been for my imprisonment and potential execution then I would have never been there, and yet if it wasn’t for the mages then I would have died just across the border in the homeland of Lotherian scum. I will say that I was at least lucky to have been in that tavern the night I met Kazu. I would have easily died otherwise. Still, Anduvar has never treated me well, and I never intend to stay long enough to give that place a second chance.

So we left. It was as simple as that. The first day’s travel brought hardly anything interesting. We’re still too close to the main roads to hit much action. Even the beasts known better than to wander near the home of the mages, as it only takes one good mage to wipe out a whole army, so what can a monster do? Nothing, and the beasts have realized that well enough.

Kazu is very talkative. At first he had come off as nothing more than timid and too curious for his own good (of which he is still very much both of those things), but I’ve started to realize that all this naivety seems to just stem from a life of seclusion. Although I don’t know too much, I know that sages spend much of their early lives as hermits, locked away in temples, forever worshiping and studying as if their life depends on it. It’s easily a life of devotion, as a servant of Adar one could say I did similarly, although it seems that Venna likes to keep her servants locked away while Adar prefers to have his risk their lives for the betterment of humanity. Not that I’m trying to be all high-ho about it, if Kazu has come out to help the world then Venna must have had some good in mind.

We’ve set up for the night. Things are quiet. It looks like a slow start to the adventure. As much as I’d hate to say it, it’s for the best. I don’t think Kazu could survive long otherwise.

Year 1140, Month 5, Day 2 Expedition date 8, entry 3

It has been about a week since we left the city. Anduvar seems to fade the farther into the wilderness you travel. In fact, most human qualms seem to disappear as nature takes over. You forget about the war, the chaos, the bullshit. Politics don’t mean anything out here. You can’t lie your way past an owlbear out here. It’ll eat you alive before you can spew anymore bullshit.

That doesn’t mean that the humans aren’t a problem anymore though, not entirely. There’s a war going on in the background, you have to remember. Every so often you’ll see signs of it too. An abandoned shield. A forgotten sword. Sometimes you’ll find a bloody tunic, in worse times you’ll find a body. Shallow mass graves seem to be a hot topic. Kazu can hardly stand to look at them. He wants to help everyone, but it hasn’t crossed him yet that you can’t help everyone. Not in a war.

We came across a kid today. Poor guy. He couldn’t be any older than nineteen, maybe twenty. He was shocked out of his wits. Covered in all sorts of blood, we had stopped to assess him, more-so at Kazu’s request than my own. He wouldn’t talk to us much, just said he’d killed someone. Then Kazu walked off to go grab something from Indigo and the boy finally told me. He looked me dead in the eyes and said he’d beheaded his best friend. I asked him why, he said they fought on opposite sides of the war. Poor kid was Lotherian through and through, so when things kicked off the Mageocracy had all the rugged nordic kids sent back home. This poor sap was unlucky enough to get recruited into the war and then what happens next? He meets his childhood buddy from back when they both lived under the same flag. Poor kid’s friend’s a POW. The kid tells me next that his general ordered all the prisoners to be executed. He thought it was a bit excessive but the generals don’t give a damn. “Mage scum is mage scum” they say. So the kid had to kill his best friend, right then and there. He went through with it, because insubordination meant death. But right after the kid deserted. Threw down his colors and ran. Couldn’t take it anymore apparently. Now he’s wandering around, trying to find a way out. But he couldn’t admit that in front of a priest, not in front of Kazu, so the second Kazu comes back the kid shuts up again. Won’t mention a word of it.

We gave him some rations, some directions, and a saying of good luck. I don’t know if we’ll ever see him again. I hope he finds a way out.

Year 1140, Month 5, Day 10 Expedition date 16, entry 4

More human problems. It seems that this war attracts the worst of people. What this time? A bunch of deserters trying to hold up a bridge. Kazu and I come up on Indigo, minding our own business, but from a mile away I could tell something shady was going on. There were about five men all clad in Lotherian garb, helmets and all, but there was no military outpost nearby. No camps, no generals. I could tell already that they were either bandits who’d gone and looted the dead or some Lotherian soldiers who decided war was too much for them and instead chose to take advantage of the weak and vulnerable. Real men, huh. It’s just what you’d expect of Lotherians.

We come up to the bridge and the leader of this little gang decides to step up to me. He yells “halt” like he’s got authority and starts demanding money, saying it’s for a guaranteed safe passage as the area is apparently under the control of the Lotherians.

I know damn well that’s not true, but I don’t want to burst his bubble just yet, so I let him babble on for a while. I can tell Kazu’s curious, poking his head over to see what’s going on, but I can also tell that he notices something fishy’s going on, because his hand on my shoulder tightens a bit when he sees the men. The leader talks for a while and then puts his hand out like he’s expecting me to just hand over all our money. Unfortunately for him I’m not about to fall into his scheme, so instead I pull my horse to the side and get down, telling Kazu to stay put.

I walk over to these guys and decide to be frank. I say, “I know you’re bullshitting, so just let us through and I won’t cause any problems.” But the leader doesn’t want to hear it, he thinks he can pull this off if he just keeps yelling at me, so he does. He starts demanding some respect because apparently he’s big in the army, real big. It was only my dignity that kept me from spitting in his face. I tell him again, “We’re going to go on through and if you try to stop us I will not hesitate to kill you.” He doesn’t take that very kindly, draws his sword on me, his goons do the same thing, so there’s five armed men surrounding me. I glance over at Kazu and he looks as nervous as all nine hells but I’ve already told him a dozen times before that if I get killed then he just needs to take Indigo and go, and I can see that his hand’s are on the reigns, so I know he’s got that in mind even if he doesn’t want to leave me alone to die.

The leader tells me one more time to pay up, as if it’s going to make a difference, and I just look him in the eyes and tell him “You’ll have to kill me first.” And that’s the last straw, the guy swings dead for my head and I duck. The rest is much of a blur but by the end of it I’ve got a long slash down my shoulder, and five dead men in front of me.

I turn around expecting to see Indigo gone, somewhere far away and safe with Kazu, but no, the stupid kid decided to stick around and watch the whole thing. The second the last man is dead on the end of my sword Kazu’s off the horse and scrambling over to me, tending to me like a sick kitten. I ward him off, tell him I’m fine, that the wound is superficial and that there’s nothing to worry about, but that doesn’t stop him. He sits me down, makes me take off my armor, and then deals with my wound. He mends it with that magic of his and wraps it as an extra precaution. It seems so over the top and ridiculous but damn it can you hate a guy for caring? It seems like there aren’t enough people like him nowadays.

After that we get back on the horse and ride on, pretending that I didn’t just kill five men. We settle for the night a bit off the main road. Patrols are too much of an issue to just ignore. The last thing we want to do is draw attention to ourselves, especially after today.

Kazu’s been babying me all night. I’m trying my best not to snap at him but it’s getting hard. Kid doesn’t know when to quit.

Year 1140, Month 5, Day 21 Expedition date 27, entry 5

It’s been a while since I’ve killed anything. Probably for the best. We’ve been traveling around a lot. Kazu loves it all. Nature, he’s just totally enthralled by nature. You’d think he’s never seen a flower in his life before, maybe he hasn’t, I don’t know. But he loves everything. We’ll be riding through and pass a deer, and he’ll say “hi” to the deer as if the deer understands what he’s saying. It’s kind of cute all things considered, kind of weird too, though. I guess that’s what happens when you’re raised different than everyone else.

We came across a shrine today. It’d been desecrated by someone, who knows, soldiers probably. It was a shrine to the goddess Lenina, the goddess of nature. Usually her shrine’s are put up to ward off evils in the woods. But this one was knocked over, chipped at the ends, and covered in moss.

Kazu didn’t really seem to know who it was. I guess Venna doesn’t teach her servants about other gods. I know enough though to recognize Lenina’s figure, with her iconic harp, so we pull over to fix the shrine. I’ve had plenty of experience with shrines to know it’s bad business to leave them knocked on their side like that. It’s the first step to bad luck, and I’m not risking it. But while I’m lifting up this wooden shrine all on my own, wiping off the extra growths and patching it up a bit, I’m telling Kazu all about Lenina, because when he wants to know something he gets all doe-eyed about it and will ask you about it constantly until you start talking. He might’ve been a good interrogator once upon a time.

There’s not much of a tale to tell though, not much more than a name and a purpose. Lenina. Goddess of nature, protector of all that is kind and sweet in her domain, the domain of uncivilized land. It’s said that praying to her will reward you in the future, should you find yourself cornered by beasts. It’s said that a man who helps Lenina might find the wolves at his doorstep suddenly pacified, the claws against his throat suddenly removed. It’s believed that pleasing Lenina will bring you safer passage through the thicket of her domain, and so it diesn’t seem like a bad idea to give her a hand.

Kazu is ever interested of course, and ever adamant that I fix the shrine ASAP. But by then I’ve already propped the statue of Lenina back up on her pedestal. I’ve laid flowers at her feet and even upturned a nearly burnt-out candle, lighting it once more in respect. I ask Lenina a prayer, for safe travel, and Kazu does the same. Then we’re back on Indigo and we’re off. Kazu spent much of the rest of the day asking me about Lenina again, as if she was ever an important goddess. As if there was more of her story to tell. There was bound to be of course, but it’s a story I do not know. You wish to know of Adar? You wish to know of his struggles, his bouts of anger and defeat, his humanity? I can tell you of that. But Lenina? I’m not nearly in versed in the goddess of nature.

We have had safe travels. I can only presume that Lenina bid us well.

Year 1140, Month 6, Day 16 Expedition date 52, Entry 6

I must say that I’m surprised we have gotten this far. I never expected Kazu to survive two months, but he has, and admittedly I am grateful. Although at first I found it hard to bare his talkative nature, eventually I learned to appreciate it. It has been awfully long since I met someone so nice to be around. Of course, by now we’ve gotten to known each other a bit better. One of the more surprising revelations that I’ve had is that Kazu is actually older than me.

Just by looking at the two of us it would be hard to say. I’ve mustered the rugged years of a man who has seen the best and the worst of humanity, while Kazu seems to have lived the life in seemingly unbearable solitude. Based on appearance alone most would figure I was older, mostly because Kazu was awfully baby-faced and awfully naive for his age. But when the numbers come down to it Kazu is actually a few years my elder, which means I can’t quite call him a “kid” or a “boy” anymore.

There’s more than just that though. I’ve also learned that he has had just as much of an uneventful life as I expected. He’s learned much yes, but primarily of his own goddess, Venna. His life was indefinitely in a place of solitude at a monastery not far off from where we met, and although he had the company of other priests and sages there was not much more than that. In fact you’d think I was the first man he’d ever met, all things considered.

But of course once the questions about Kazu’s life passed on the questions of my own came along. I’m not ready to tell him everything, not yet. But I suppose that, fifty-two days later, I might as well tell him something. So I told him about the Vigilants of Adar, about the hall of Akkadia and about the rise and fall of my clan. I did not get into the nastiest details, skimmed over the fact that I was turned in because I am a runaway slave, and really just summed up the end as “things went poorly, the hall was burned down by Lotherians, and now I’m here.” Kazu, obviously, had more questions, but I refuse to sate his hunt for knowledge much further. He will just have to wait for his answer.

Year 1140, Month 6, Day 20 Expedition date 56, Entry 7

We came across a battlefield today. Lotherian and Anduvarian soldiers scattered about an open, dirt field. It was a cluttered mess. Swords, shields, axes, maces, lances, spears. Helmets, tunics, chest plates, arm guards. Heads, arms, legs, feet. It was a massacre.

Kazu didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want him to see it either. I was just going to steer us away but then we heard someone groaning, moaning. Immediately Kazu was up and off the horse, running to find the person, calling out for them, begging them to speak up. I thought he’d gone mad. I left Indigo and then went off after him, trying to pull him back. That battlefield was riddled with all sorts of things, and I didn’t want him getting hurt. But he was adamant. He searched until he found the man, a wounded soldier. I don’t think Kazu even bothered to look at his colors. I don’t think he thought twice. He just saw the man and he immediately started helping him, healing him. He told me to get food and water so I went and got food and water.

We patched the man up, helped him out. Dragged him out of that hellhole and over to the grassy part of the field. He laid there for a moment, breathless, exhausted. When he had the strength to eat and drink on his own he thanked us, asked the gods to bless up, told us his name was “Kirby” and said that, thanks to us, he’d be able to return to his wife and his daughter again. Kazu gave him some food, I told him which direction to walk in, and when the man had enough strength to do so he was off.

He was Lotherian too.

I don’t know if Kazu understands the conflict at hand here. I don’t know if he understands that the Lotherians hate mages, that this whole war started because they want to eradicate magic, that they want to dispel these “demonic” natures to purge the land, to free the souls of the damned, to cleanse the soil of which we stand on. I don’t think he understands that any other Lotherian man would have spat in his face, stomped on his boots, and maybe even made an attempt on his life.

But I think maybe Kazu knows, and just doesn’t care.

Year 1140, Month 6, Day 31 Expedition date 67, Entry 8

We came upon a village today. The first we’ve seen in months, it’s a miracle we’ve done as well as we have. Some days I think we won’t have any food, some days I think we might have to eat Indigo. I never would, of course, but I wonder. It’s on those days that I bare my teeth and go hunt with that crossbow of mine, the stupid thing that only wants to work half the time. But I go out and do it anyway, because I know if we don’t then Kazu and I will starve and I just can’t let that happen.

So seeing a village was a blessing. It would give us the opportunity to replenish our supplies and brace for another hard trip into the wilderness.

When we arrived, the village bore an unfamiliar flag. Particularly, it was Dorelian. Which means at some point we must’ve crossed the border over. It’s a comforting thought. Doreli isn’t all too involved in the war, they don’t hold much of the sentiments of either side and don’t intend to get involved. They prefer to keep to themselves, and I can respect that. Plus, it makes things much easier for Kazu and I. We don’t need to worry about being jumped for whatever reason, be it he’s a mage or I’m a slave.

The village is small, modest. The villagers look to us curiously but otherwise do not give us a second glance. They are busy, the fall is nearing, winter will come soon, and there’s lots of harvesting to be done and crops to be dealt with. Two wandering faces arriving out of nowhere doesn’t seem to interested them all too much.

There’s an inn atop a tavern and a small warehouse where they store all the wheat. We make our way to the inn after I drop Indigo off in the stables. We head in and there’s a barkeep hunched over at the counter. He straightens up the instant he sees us -- I guess he doesn’t get many new faces out here -- and immediately he’s talking us up, offering us drinks. I gave Kazu a handful of coins that I’d had left over and tell him to get some food. Then I take the rest of our money and get a room for the night. Next comes the hard part, because I knew things wouldn’t be easy forever, and I needed to start making us money eventually. I walk up to the innkeep, who’s on the other end of the room, and ask him if there’s any contracts out.

The innkeep tells me that the local lord has a bounty on a nearby group of bandits. Anyone who can bring him their leader’s head will get a fair amount of coin. I ask how much, and he tells me enough to pique my interest. It sounds like a job, not the easiest one in the world, but a doable one. I’ve killed enough men to take on a handful, and the money will get us through the next two months.

I get the room key, head up and drop our things off. Then I give the key to Kazu, telling him explicitly to keep it on hand because it’s the only one around and I don’t intend to ever bust down our inn room door unless it’s an absolute emergency (and I can only pray that such an emergency will never arise). He looked to me, confused, and I tell him I have to disappear for a day. His confusion turned to concern and he started asking me a bunch of questions. I quell his fears, assure him I’m just heading out on a job, that I’m doing with vigilants do, and then I handed him the rest of my coin before heading off. I don’t know what his expression is like when I leave and frankly I don’t want to know. It would’ve just hurt more to see him like that than to not see him at all.

I don’t know the last time I’ve ever cared about someone so much. It’s stupid, I know, Kazu’s just a sage who I’ve hardly been in the acquaintance of for more than two months. And he does stupid little things all the time that get on my nerves, like asking too many questions, or throwing himself into danger when it isn’t necessary. But he does other things too, endearing things, that keep me around even when it doesn’t seem worth it anymore. He isn’t paying me much at all, in fact I’m sure he’s coming down to his last coins very soon. And this isn’t like a usual vigilant job, it isn’t like I’m going to be making hundreds off of a kill. I’m just taking Kazu around the world, and letting him experience it for the first time. And honestly... it’s nice. It feels better than a vigilant job. I just don’t know why.

Year 1140, Month 7, Day 2 Expedition date 69, Entry 9

Kazu will be happy to know that I am not dead. I had gone this morning and tracked down the bandits. I went and I slaughtered them all. They hardly stood a chance against me, and I think they started to realize that midway through, but by then it was too late. I killed them all, except for a few stragglers who managed to slip away. It didn’t matter though, the bunch had been dispersed and their leader lay dead, so that would satisfy the local lord.

I looted the place, beheaded the leader, and then rode on Indigo to the lord’s keep, where I presented the head and was given my sum of my reward. I’m glad Kazu didn’t come, he didn’t have to see me like that.

While in town I looked around a bit. The keep didn’t have too much to offer, but there was a merchant there selling a few things. I bought a book -- Kazu said he could read, so I figured he’d appreciate something to keep him entertained -- some rations and fresh water, and a new whetstone for my sword. I also dropped by the blacksmith, and had made enough gold from the job that I was able to get my entire set of armor repaired, sword included. It was nice, refreshing even, to have newly restored attire. It also gave me a little more comfort knowing that anything short of a lucky sword slit or stab wouldn’t manage to kill me.

Tonight I will head back to Kazu. I can only hope that he is still in one piece. The village life can be so cruel, especially to one so unacquainted.

Year 1140, Month 7, Day 3 Expedition date 70, Entry 10

I returned today to opened arms. It’s been a while since I’ve had such an honor. When I arrived at the inn Kazu was at the bar, talking to the barkeep. From what I understand that’s where he’s spent most of his time since arriving. Apparently the bar keep has plenty of stories, and he has just as many from our recent endeavors. But when I walk in, as rugged as I usually am, Kazu practically jumps out of his seat. He runs over to me and hugs me and I almost fall right over.

He starts babbling and I just muster a pat on the back as he talks about all that he’s done since I’ve been gone and about how much he was worried. I manage to quiet him by shoving the book in his arms. He looks down at it -- it’s a thick read -- and scans the cover. I tell him that I’d bought it while out on the job and thought he’d like it.

Immediately he’s back to hugging me, and although he makes some passing remark about how sages don’t believe in materialistic ideals I think overall he appreciated it. And after I show him the gold I think even he could be happy about a job well done, because the money meant we’d have not just food and water, but more time to go off and explore the world. Right now that seems like the one thing he wants to do most, so who am I to say no? I could always leave, of course, but it’s not like I have anywhere else to go. I might as well stay and enjoy myself

We’ll stay a few more nights then head off once we’re tired of sitting around. Besides, it’s not like us to stay in one place long.

Year 1140, Month 7, Day 8 Expedition date 75, Entry 11

We’ve left the village, but the few days we’ve spent there have been a time of reflection for me. There are many things that I’ve thought about, and many more things that I’ve considered, and honestly it’s hard to compose them all in one entry but I’ll try my best.

First, the matter of exploration. I think I’d already thought about this in the past, namely when I was stuck in that tavern trying futility to get drunk and wasting my money away. But now I’m sure of it, as these past few days in the village have been particularly dull. I’ve spent most of them in Kazu’s company in the inn, and while it’s nice to have a soft bed and warm food it’s hardly worth staying in one place for so long. I’m simply restless. I cannot begin to comprehend spending my life in one place for such an extended period of time, as a mere five days was more than unbearable to me.

It was different when I was a vigilant. Yes, I always returned to Akkadia, but otherwise I was traveling, heading from place to place to take contracts, slay beasts, turn in contracts, then move onto the next. It was an active life, and I easily became accustomed to such a life. Which makes settling down seem impossible, for me at least. I cannot see the benefit of sitting around and talking to Kazu when I could very well do the same but on the road, in the wilderness, off in nature where we can explore and enjoy ourselves in the natural world. Kazu seems happier that way, and I am too.

Then there’s the topic of Kazu.

I don’t even know where to begin with writing my feelings down on this. They’re weird, confusing. At first I thought they were a mere protective nature that I’d developed as his bodyguard, a general protectiveness that anyone should wish to have when in a position such as my own. It makes you better at your job, at least I’d like to think, and it leaves you with a happier employer. But... I don’t think that’s what’s happening in my case. I’ve never really looked to Kazu as an employer, not in the same way I look at a lord when he offers me coin in exchange for the head of a cockatrice or a nymph. Kazu just never gave off that demeanor. He was more of a friend if anything, someone to trust and cherish, but protect all the same.

Then again, I never really thought of him as much of a friend either. I was in a sort of limbo for a while. I never considered him close enough to deem a friend, but not distant enough to merely look at as an employee. I felt differently about him, but my vocabulary never managed to do it justice, and now things have changed. I feel different about him.

I think I’ve taken a liking to Kazu, and not in the friendly way either. I know I’ve always been interested in men, there’d been Brandon back in the academy, when I first started my training as a vigilant, but that hadn’t lasted and afterwards he was transferred elsewhere, so frankly it was never meant to last. After that I’d mostly been with women, but after Melissa broke my heart I’d left the dating game for a while. Things were quiet in that regard, a good bit thanks to the fact that things were starting to heat up in the war and the Burning of Akkadia was not too far away. I hadn’t thought about getting into a relationship for a while.

But then I met Kazu, and although at first I didn’t feel particularly interested in him, I think that’s changed. Being around him all the time might’ve had something to do with that.

I realized this just last night in fact. We were in our room, resting up one more time before heading out for travel. He was in a chair, reading that book I’d gotten him, and I was lingering by the window, watching the moon rise with the stars. Then it struck me suddenly that, at some point, my gaze had shifted from the stars to Kazu. Suddenly I had started admiring his eyes and his brow, and his lips. And the second I realized it I snapped myself out of it. Shameful! I thought. But then it struck me that this wasn’t the first time I’d caught myself staring. A few times I’d done the very same thing, mostly after we’d set up camp and he would linger about before going to sleep. I would stare at him, observe him, and while at first I’d dubbed myself a creep and tried to divert my attention, I quickly realized that my actions were not without cause. That perhaps I was doing such things but I was... attracted to him?

Now mind you that I didn’t conclude this until last night and by then I was so tired that I figured myself in a fit of sleeplessness and shortly went to bed. But I awoke this morning and realized that my feelings still remained, that perhaps my protectiveness hadn’t been simply a manner of professionalism, but the fact that I had found someone whom interested me, and my mind was subconsciously telling me so. It would seem that my head knew before the rest of my body did.

I’m not sure what to make of this revelation. I’m nervous, admittedly. I don’t want this to get between Kazu and I. But I feel that it’s necessary that I tell him eventually. It would be for the best. Perhaps I will do so when we’re sitting comfortably in a large city, to the point where I could give him enough money for another bodyguard should he decide to terminate my contract. I will hold onto the hope that he will not get rid of me, but I cannot be so sure. The world is a cruel place. It’s hard to say if he’ll ever except me for who I am. But there’s only one way to find out.

Year 1140, Month 7, Day 28 Expedition date 95, Entry 12

We had a close call. Too close. We were going through the woods and knew well enough that there were wolves prowling about, but I figured they’d stay away if we yelled at them enough to keep off. It worked the first couple of times but eventually those fuckers got sneaky. We’d stopped for a break and then just like that they came out of nowhere. One of them snatched my heel and when I reached to grab my sword another one lunged up at me. I only managed to just barely protect my throat, but I nearly lost my finger in the process.

Indigo panicked and ran away. Kazu was trapped between a tree and a few very angry wolves. I quickly realized that if I didn’t do something soon then we were as good as dead. I had to fight through the pain to grab my sword but I wasn’t going to let these stupid mutts eat Kazu alive, so with blood coating my grip I started stabbing away at the wolves. The one on my heel backed off after a good kick to the nose, and the one going for my throat backed away after I stabbed it in the leg. Another jumped up on me but I swatted it away. It became apparent at that point that we were surrounded but I wasn’t backing down. I couldn’t.

I knew well enough that by taking out the big dog the rest would run off, so I immediately started looking for the alpha. It took a moment before I found him -- he was sizing up Kazu around the time I got to him. I went to stab at it but at that point the blood coated my hand so severely that keeping a grip on my sword was impossible, so instead I went for plan B. I tackled the wolf to the ground and slammed its head into the dirt. I felt a few more bites along my back but I ignored them as I wrestled the biggest wolf of the bunch. The alpha wouldn’t back off until I shoved my hand down its throat, and at that point it realized it was out matched. Retreating with an awful gag, the wolf ran off and with it went the rest of the pack, save the two that I’d already butchered.

At that point my back was bit up, my heel was blooded, and it was hard to tell if I still had all my fingers. Kazu, after snapping out of his initial shock, immediately tended to me, both scared out of his wits and thankful to be alive. I was just as thankful, and after he patched me up we went to go track down Indigo.

It was at that point that I decided I needed to tell him.

I’d spent the last twenty days debating it. Of course my initial plan had been to get somewhere where we could go our separate ways with ease but with the realization of my infatuation came an even more intense interest. It was plaguing my life to be frank, as every time I looked at him I was reminded of my attraction. My heart would skip, my breath would hitch. I would pray that he didn’t notice and move on. But now, in the instance that I nearly died, I decided it had to be done. Even if he rejected me, even if it was all pointless, I needed to tell him before I lost the chance to ever do so. Those wolves actually opened my eyes.

While we searched for Indigo I had quietly picked a handful of flowers. There were a fair amount of white and purple lilies scattered about, so I went and picked them into a nice little bouquet. When I had quite enough in my hand I kept them hidden behind my back until we’d found the horse. I think Kazu might have noticed at some point, but he never questioned me, so I presumed that I had the element of surprise. And so, when we finally found my trusty stead not too far away, I pulled out the flowers and told him.

I poured my heart out to him, more or less. My whole speech is hard to recall word-for-word, but I can at least say that I told him how I felt. I told him that I’d started to notice how absolutely beautiful he was, and how much I’d learned to love his voice. I told him about how much I adored his company, about how I cherished every single day we had together. I told him about how every time I looked to the stars I was reminded of his eyes, and how every time I heard the melody of a harp I was reminded of his laugh, in the same way one would be reminded of the songs of the gods. I told him that I had kicked myself for waiting so long to tell him, that I felt foolish for ever hesitating, for ever doubting. I told him that I would love to take his hand, and if not then I would at least appreciate the fact that I ever got to tell him in the first place.

I told him all these things breathlessly. I told him them as if I’d only have seconds to do so, and to be honest the entire time my heart was pounding. One might have thought that I was fighting a great monstrosity with how fast my heart was pounding, but no. I was just thinking about him.

And then when my speech was said and done and I held out the flowers, my eyes fell to the floor. I felt shame. It was as if it had all come crashing down on my head suddenly, as if the realization had hit that I just admitted I loved another man, as if it all became strikingly apparent that I was a freak by society’s standard. I could only imagine what that meant to a sage, to Kazu, someone who was so pure and so innocent being vilified by a creature so despicable. For a second I honestly felt like a monster. Then... he started laughing.

I thought he was laughing at me but I quickly realized that it wasn’t laughing so much as it was giggling, and his face was a hot pink. It’s then that he told me that my ears were lit up a fiery red, and upon telling me my own blush only grew worse. He took the flowers happily and hugged me, and I don’t know I guess somewhere along the lines he had realized he felt the same? The whole thing is a blur, if I’m being honest it felt like a dream. My heart was pounding a mile a minute, and at one point it seemed as if I’d gone deaf. But... I hadn’t.

I’m just in love.

Year 1140, Month 8, Day 13 Expedition date 110, Entry 13

It’s been about two weeks since I told Kazu how I felt about him. Things have only gotten better it seems. We started slow, more-so for Kazu’s sake than my own, but once we started getting comfortable we tried being a bit more... intimate. I enjoy kissing him most of all, even just occasionally. Sometimes when we wake up I will lean over and kiss him, and he’ll laugh and kiss me back. Sometimes after a long day of travel I’ll want nothing more than to pull him into a hug and kiss him all over. I control myself of course, but sometimes it can be hard. I want to cherish him more than anything, especially since it’s been so long since I’ve been given such an opportunity.

My favorite time is whenever Kazu goes out of his way to kiss me himself. He’ll run up and plant a peck on my cheeks or sometimes my lips. It’s always adorable, because he’ll try to pull me down to keep me close, and of course I’ll let him.

I’m glad that things are working out so well between us. It seems that my previous concerns were all for naught. His interest in me was just as intense as my interest in him. I can hope for nothing more than our continued relationship, and it seems that the outdoors benefits us with such an opportunity. We do not need to fear being walked-in on while out in the woods, and even if we did who would believe such a sight? We are on our own entirely, and it’s a benefit of nature that we could have never foreseen. I love it, wholeheartedly, just as I love him.

Year 1140, Month 9, Day 1 Expedition Date 127, Entry 14

We arrived at a city today for the first time in a while. It’s been another month and it seemed foolish to pass up dropping by and resupplying, so we made our way over. From the looks of it we’re still in Doreli, so things are still safe. After we took Indigo to a stable, Kazu and I ventured the city. We found a nice inn, much nicer than the first (and more expensive) to stay a few nights in. There’s also another job but I’ll wait until tomorrow to worry about that. I need to make sure Kazu’s settled in first and foremost.

Since we arrived at the city so early in the day we decided to walk around a bit. I met a blacksmith who agreed to repair my gear and re-shoe Indigo, and after that I walked Kazu down to the marketplace where there were an array of goods to choose from. It was by far the most extravagant of the marketplaces we’ve had the opportunity to see thus far, and that seemed apparent in Kazu’s blatant awe. There were so many things to look at, so many things to choose from, it seemed pointless to only pick a few, but they only had so much money to barter.

It became clear, though, what we were getting the second it walked up to us. A little pseudodragon seemed absolutely drawn to Kazu. It came up to him on its own in fact, and right away you could tell that it had won Kazu’s heart over, because his eyes simply glowed. A moment later we found out that the creature belonged to a merchant, and that for a fair sum we could have it (although I soon learned it was actually a her). Kazu begged me, although that wasn’t particularly necessary, as he could have simply asked and I would have never had the mind to say no.

So we bought the little dragon and Kazu promptly named her Chamomile. I never would have considered such a name, but I love it nonetheless. I can only hope that this little dragon won’t prove too troublesome on our endeavors.

As a slight side note, we ran down to the stables to introduce Chamomile to Indigo. It seems the two get along enough, as at the very least they don’t hate each other. That’s a better sign than none.

Also I very quickly learned that little Chamomile loves to do one thing in particular, and that’s puff balls of fire. Adorable maybe, but also painful. I’ve already been damned quite a few times by that thing simply because it loves to scorch my skin. Thankfully, Kazu is kind enough to mend my wounds whenever it is necessary. It is necessary a lot, evidently.

Year 1140, Month 9, Day 17 Expedition Date 143, Entry 15

We finally left the city today. As I’ve already said it’s hard for me to stay in one place for very long, and although we stayed here longer than I had hoped it was at least slightly more bearable with Kazu as company. I took up two contracts while here, one to wipe out a nest of corpse eaters and another to slay a werewolf. Both weren’t particularly easy, or bearable, but I did it for the sake of Kazu and I. The coin was good and so it keeps us afloat.

The last few days were nice. I became well acquainted with the blacksmith in town, who work on my armor a few times, namely when I arrived and after both of my contracts. He was a kind man, I appreciated his company well enough. He was one of the few people I spoke with aside from Kazu while in town.

We spent a bit of time in the marketplace, perhaps more than was necessary, but after finding Chamomile Kazu was adamant on looking for any other little creatures we keep. We found none, but we did learn that Chamomile loves to push over random objects. She pushed over a vase on a merchant’ stand and we ended up paying for its broken bits. Lesson learned for sure, I’ll need to make sure it doesn’t happen again (me specifically, because Kazu didn’t seem bothered about it in the slightest. Something about materialistic ideals being false and all that. I don’t care what he thinks, as long as it doesn’t end up being too expensive).

But now we’re on the road again, regardless. I’m not sure where the path will take us now, but I hope it will take us the right way, wherever that may be.

It’s me, Kazu, Indigo and Chamomile now. And life’s never been better.

#drabble;

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