#Gil would sooner die

[softquietsteadylove]

Declaration of War

For @oldtvserieslover 's birthday, after asking about something for the Gladiator AU!

"My name is Eros," the newcomer smiled in a way that made both the queen and her daughter bristle. "And you, Princess, are as beautiful as the legends say."

His statement was accompanied by an up-and-down of her with his hungry eyes.

"Prince Eros," Ajak addressed him directly, and rather kindly, given the way he was looking at her daughter. "We welcome you to the tournament of Champions. You have come to challenge?"

"Indeed I have," the Prince grinned at them, bowing his mane of hair slightly to them. "I believe my selected champions will stand a great chance of beating you this time around, my Lady."

"Hm," Thena vocalised, mostly to herself. Her eyes drifted from the challenger in title to the actual fighters accompanying him.

They were lined up, facing their own gladiators. There was one who was clearly their first pick to win. He stood like a beast, massive in height and still heavily muscled. His face hardly even seemed human.

He was staring down Gilgamesh.

"We shall see," Ajak offered diplomatically, offering a polite sort of smile to the visiting Prince. "We have yet to be bested in the past years."

"Actually, I was hoping to propose," the Prince stepped back into proximity with the ladies, "higher stakes."

"Such as," Ajak frowned, backing up a step, incidentally pushing Thena further back as well.

"Such as a proposal," he tipped his chin up, his eyes shifting to Thena as if Ajak had disappeared from his line of sight. "I propose that my prize is the hand of the Lady herself."

"What?" Gilgamesh spoke up from his end of the line, although no one but Thena even looked at him as he spoke.

"That is hardly-" Ajak blinked as the Prince swooped down in a deep bow.

"I ask that if my chosen gladiators win, that I win the hand of the princess," he spoke downward, expressing a humility that he completely lacked just a moment ago. "The treasury I'm offering as a bet on my warriors is triple that of our other competitors."

Indeed, the funds offered by the brazen prince would provide for their coffers very nicely.

"And if we win?" Thena challenged, although something about the Prince's sly gaze and the presence of that beast of a man made her skin crawl.

Eros cocked his head at her with a grin that she could only imagine would have his concubines melting. "Why, you may ask anything you like, my darling bride. Since I intend to win no matter the challenge posed."

"We haven't even fought yet."

At last, the other royals present looked at Gilgamesh, still speaking up with no regard for if it was considered insolent of him - a mere fighter for the crown - or not. He met their critical glares without fear, shrugging his wide shoulders. "You could at least let her set her own conditions."

Thena shook her head ever so faintly, urging him to stay silent on the matter. She had come to enjoy speaking with him, and her mother - having become aware of this rapport between them - tolerated it. But most who were part of royalty did not welcome interruptions by civilians.

Eros chuckled, giving Gilgamesh a different kind of smile. It was still a smile, and still meant to appear affable. But this one was sharper edged and colder--the tilt of his head was so...demeaning. "Did you say something, brute?"

"Yeah, I did," Gil continued, undeterred by Eros' obvious disgust with him. His fists clenched, "it's pretty ballsy of you to come in here and demand to marry the princess. The least you could do is accept the conditions if you lose."

"Well, I don't intend to lose, so by all means," the prince bared his teeth at Gil now, like a predator toying with prey it knew it could outrun. "Set any conditions you like."

"Gil," Thena whispered, but he stepped up to Eros (and in front of her).

Gil got right in the Prince's face, who happily let him, meeting his challenge with a manic delight. "Speak up, pleb."

"If I win," Gil started without even considering the other gladiators selected alongside him. It was always just him by the final rounds of the tournament anyway. "Thena gets to marry anyone she chooses."

"The Lady may select her own groom," Eros postulated, emphasising the proper title for her, in contrast to Gil's overly familiar use of her given name. "What a peculiar thought."

Gil stood firm on the spot, even with the beast of a challenger moving forward and breathing like a bull ready to charge. "She gets to make her own choice. And no one gets to say a damn thing about it--not you, or anyone else."

"Hm," Eros raised his brows at Gil's adamant proposal. He looked amused by the resolve he showed and stepped away from the shorter but significantly more strongly built man. "Fine, I accept your little wager."

Thena glared at him again. Her life and freedom was a 'little wager', apparently.

"But know this, Gilgamesh," Eros turned his eyes on him again, voice sharp and eyes cold. "I do not intend to leave this place empty handed."

"I don't care what you intend," Gil snarled at him, finally backing up but not moving away from Thena behind him as Eros walked off and beckoned for his chosen fighters to follow. "You're not coming anywhere near her."

Ajak let out a breath as the prince and his entourage descended the steps to their mezzanine. She looked at the guards, who were hovering with their weapons, waiting for the word to be given about how the lowly gladiator was standing inappropriately close to the princess. Ajak shook her head, "relax, all of you."

The guards stood back against the walls, although Gil was still glaring at where Eros and his gladiators had vanished. He huffed, crossing his arms, "the nerve of that guy."

"Gil," Thena cut in, glaring at him (and forgetting that she too was addressing him far too casually).

"What?" he shrank back at her obvious ire. "D-Did I do something wrong?"

"Y-You-!" Thena pinched her full lips together, pressing her fingers together before she could make a real fist with them. "That thing with him will be out for your blood, after that altercation!"

"Well," he shrugged at her as if he were talking with anyone else and not the crown princess herself. "He was going to be anyway, right?"

"That's not the point!"

"Thena," Ajak scolded, watching her daughter squabble with one of their own fighters.

"I'm sorry," Gilgamesh conceded, bowing his head to his monarchs. "To both of you, my Lady. But I couldn't just...I couldn't let him think-"

"You have issued a very serious challenge, Gilgamesh," Ajak addressed him firmly but not unkindly. "This cannot be taken lightly."

"It won't be," he assured his queen before turning to his princess. "I'll win."

Thena bit down on the inside of her lip, "you can't know that will happen."

"I can, I'll make it happen," he affirmed, stating it as boldly as he would state any fact about the ocean being deep or the sun being bright. He held her eyes, not letting her fear sway him at all. "I'll win, Thena."

Ajak cleared her throat. That was quite enough use of given names for now. She would have to address it later. "Come--you must prepare for the first round of fights."

"Yes," Gil bowed, stepping back into the line, where his fellow competitors were staring slack jawed at him for yet again speaking with the princess audaciously.

"And you," Ajak turned to Thena, whose face betrayed her nervousness for just a second. "Come with me."

"Yes, mother," Thena murmured, indeed following Ajak up the stairs to the shaded platform for their respective thrones. She looked behind her.

Gil offered a faint smile and a little wave, same as he did every time he saw her, no matter the distance between them.

Thena's eyes were drawn and her frown was heavy, but she still managed to wave back at him as they drifted apart.

[la-cinephile]

Review and thoughts about TROP 02x08

After watching episode 8 twice (and after crying a lot), here is my review of the last episode of the season 2 of The Rings of Power with a lot of spoilers.

A visual masterpiece

It's not the first episode to be really good on that point but there are definitely some epic scenes that make this season finale almost perfect visually. It begins with the first sequence at Khazad-Dûm with the Balrog. Huge shoutout to the VFX crew who creates this creature and for their work throughout the show because visual effects look great 99% of the time (the 1% left is for the warg in season 1).

King Durin facing the Balrog - Shadow and Flame (02x08)

Through the episode we also have a lot of stunning shots as the ones below :

Pelargir - Shadow and Flame (02x08)

Númenor - Shadow and Flame (02x08)

Rivendell - Shadow and Flame (02x08)

An emotional episode

Even though the series was good in season 1 and also in the beginning of season 2, I didn't feel so emotional than in the last two episodes and especially in episode 8.

Father and son (of father / daughter) relationships are always moving to me so the scene between Prince Durin IV and his father at the beginning and THAT scene with Adar and his children had a big impact on me.

The betrayal scene is the saddest and one of the most brutal thing that happened in the show. It's well done and echoes perfectly what happened in the 02x01 in the flashback but it was hard to watch. I mean, Adar trusted his children and them, they didn't understand that he was making sacrifices not really by choice but because it was necessary to assure peace for their kind. It was a heavy price for him, it was painful but he knew it was the only way to win but no, Glûg thought it was better to make an alliance with Evil.

As I said in a previous post, there is something very similar to the Assassination of Julius Caesar in this scene with the Lord-Father being betrayed by several of his children, especially Glûg who was one of his closest "child", not to mention that Adar calls him "son" (yeah I'm sobbing again writing this).

Adar being betrayed by Glûg - Shadow and Flame (02x08)

I hate Glûg for what he did but he clearly didn't deserve to die like that (poor Mrs Glûg and Glûg Jr) but it's the only way for the other orcs to realize that they made a mistake and be like : "oh no, daddy was right, we were so wrong not to trust him"

Of course as an Adar fan it's hard to watch this scene but his narrative arc makes sense and we all knew he would die sooner or later. He was there during two seasons and that's already a long for an OC and even if he had survived, what next? If his children had been taken by Sauron anyway, would he have lived with that ? With the fact that he lost his children? I don't think so.

Anyway, Adar is undoubtedly one of the best character in the whole series and I will really missed him in the next seasons.

Let me be delulu for a moment : in the beginning of season 3 we will see that the betrayal scene was just a vision of Adar when he put on the ring and by doing so he sees what will happen and so he will prevent it and everything will be fine

I also must talk about the scene between Celebrimbor and Sauron and once again, what a scene! Charles Edwards and Charlie Vickers' performances are so great. This duo is one of the higlights of this second season, and both characters have a very good evolution. I feel so bad for Celebrimbor and I hate Sauron so much for what he has done to him.

But the episode also have less serious moments and sometimes even got some "fun" like when Gil-galad reacts to the sound of the dwarves coming to help the elves by just saying "Dwarves" with a knowing glance to Elrond. This quote doesn't have to be so funny but it made me smile (and I needed it).

Talking about Gil-galad, seeing him on the battlefield make me like him more. I mean I didn't really like him before because he had this elvish attitude I really don't like and I clearly prefer him as a warrior king.

I will just add a few words on Galadriel : Morfydd Clark was once again so badass. Her quote "the door is shut" and the kick just after, I mean it's so good to have a strong woman in a fiction like this, no matter what haters think, there is girl power in TROP and I love that!

An amazing soundtrack

Bear McCreary has created so many masterpieces throughout the whole series and there are definitely great musical themes added in season 2 like the music for Rhûn or this awesome metal song (The Last Ballad of Damrod) in episode 7.

Soundtrack is an important part of a tv series or a movie and so in TROP, the scenes are not just great, they become epic and truly as powerful as some scenes in the LOTR trilogy. It really gave me chills through all episode 8, mostly at the end at the future Rivendell which is a so beautiful scene.

Near perfection

The episode wasn't perfect and not as good as episode 7 in my opinion and I think the main reason is the pacing.

There is something wrong with it, it happens also in other episodes but here it's obvious, I mean some time has passed since the end of episode 7 and even if it's only a matter of a couple hours, I think it would have been better if episode 8 have been longer and could explain how Arondir was healed for example.

Let me be clear : I'm glad he is alive because he is a good character but how the hell did he survives adar's attack?! He was stabbed with an arrow and with a sword and he appears in episode 8 as if nothing bad happened to him, just a scratch or something like that. He looks just fine and it would have been better to have an explanation. Yes, you will say it's Gil-galad who must have healed him but when? And why aren't they together when they are taking hostages by the orcs before the dwarfs are coming to rescue?

With more time, we could also have known why Adar took the crown in the middle of the forest or how Glûg convinced other orcs to betray Adar because the last time we saw him in episode 7, he seems to be the only one to stay at the camp and not following Adar to the city and I would have be more kind on his "conspiracy" if we had a shot where some Uruks gathered around Glûg (you'll say we saw that earlier in episode 7 during the dialogue between Glûg and Adar but I keep thinking that a shot with several orcs staying with Glûg while Adar is marching to the city would have be more significant.)

Okay, it's my way to say I want an extended cut, no matter how long it is but please Amazon give us the extended cut!

Also, I know there is no need to explain everything (even though it's one of my flaw either as a spectator and as a writer because I always want to know every details or make sure that everything is clear) but how did Galadriel survived a fall like that?

About the Gandalf's reveal well it's not a bad thing if you considered only the movies and if you haven't read the books but I hope it's not only for fan service. I'm not mad at it but with all the hints, it's not such a big reveal in the end.

Conclusion

It was a good episode and I prefer this second season to the first one. The end is perfect as it concludes some narrative arcs and opens on others like the creation of The One Ring, Númenóreans going on war or the establishment of Rivendell. Yes some characters will be missed in the next seasons but if the show really goes on for 5 seasons, it's already good for some characters to have been able to stay alive that long, moreover for Adar who was supposed to be killed off earlier according to the showrunners. I can't wait for the next season because great things are coming and it will probably be at least as good as this second season.

Thanks for reading this long review 😊

[umbralsound-xiv]

Prompt #22 - Fulsome

Character: Bexy The Black Shroud, Present Day

She had taken to lounging on her favoured tree that hung across the road, keeping just out of sight enough not to catch the attention of passers by. That wasn't her goal, this sun. This sun, Bexy saught solitude.

A rolanberry is brought to her lips, stained with paint and the vibrancy of the fruit, quietly lost in her thoughts.

'You have far too large a heart...'

She could hear Mattisaux's words in her head. He'd said this to her more than once, but only recently had she actually allowed the words to sink in and take root. But no sooner does she entertain them, heard perfectly in her thoughts with his voice and tone, does she dismiss them.

...At least, for a moment.

He was wrong, surely. How much had she done now? How far from grace had she fallen? Redemption seemed a now impossible task. Swallowing the pang of guilt with the sweetness of the rolanberry hadn't made it any easier.

...She had no regrets. Had she acted any differently, only the worst would have happened, she was sure. Wait any longer, and Eir may well have perished, condemning Sayuri to her misery. Be any more careful, any more sparing, and the horrors she may have had to endure would only have worsened. No. Bexy did what she had to, and if that meant scores of people would die to ensure they lived, she'd do it thrice over to keep it that way. She had no regrets, not one.

...Perhaps one.

A certain woman she had paid a visit at some strange bell; not for the reason many others would seek her, but for her information.

...And when she would not readily give it, even with her offered coin, she opted to take it.

Gods, Bexy thought. How far would i have gone, if she didn't speak?

...She knew her answer; another number added to the rest of them, most likely. White had only demanded a few things in the altercation, though she was in no position to bargain, wounded and completely at the little mercy Bexy was so famous for having.

Coin. Lots of coin. Bexy had acquired much of it, both in her time as the Coeurl and through her work for the company, though scarcely spent much of it. The occasional new outfit, or shiny new baubles, or sweets and boxes of rolanberries.

...She owed her that much, didn't she? She had given her information, and nothing else was given in turn save for a souvenir in the form of a dagger that would surely melt, and a probable scar where she'd given it to her.

Another rolanberry is plucked up, sunk into by her teeth. The sweetness of them wouldn't wash away the bitterness, no.

Better to stay on White's good side, she thought. She already knew far too much, and save for killing her, she had hoped coin would buy her silence for a time. It was a lot of coin, and a rare financial outgoing Bexy would actually feel, but... Was was it, in the end?

A circle of shiny metal, used to purchase. Useful enough, but Bexy had seen both a life with so many of them and so few, and knew the value of better things.

Time. Loyalty. Love.

A long, sharp sigh huffs through her nose, the next berry to pass her lips having an audiable crunch as her ice saught to take it against her will. She'd bring the gil to White.

The somnus she could get with her own prying fingers.

[darksaiyangoku]

My wishlist for a Fate Route remake

I love what ufotable have done with the Fate/Stay Night Saga. They have given us incredbile adaptations of the Unlimited Blade Works and Heaven's Feel Routes, as well as blessing with beautiful tragedy that is Fate/Zero. However, if there's one criticism I have for it, it's that it's incomplete. 17 years later and we're still missing the one that started it all; the Fate Route.

Despite being the face of the franchise, Saber/Artoria hasn't managed to have her moment to shine properly since Fate/Zero and even then, it's very bittersweet. The Fate Route also gave us the lovely Shirou x Artoria romance, which many consider as the definitive ship of the saga. I do think we are way overdue for a Fate Route remake and I think it's best if it happens sooner rather than later. Not only will it give Artoria her much needed spotlight again, but it's also a good jumping on point for newcomers to get into the series. However, what I want isn't a simple retelling of the VN or the 2006 anime with better animation, I want a full remake that actually changes and fixes the issues of both. These include:

Expanding Saber's character more- with the remake, Saber's character development should be a major focus here and that includes her past as King Artoria. One way that can help flesh her out is to add in flashbacks that adapt Garden of Avalon. Not only that, but it would also give some much needed expansion on the knights too.

Expanding on Shirou and Saber's romance- we all know why Shirou loves Artoria so much, but we need to see why she loves him so much. Just like how UBW showed Rin falling for him and HF showed Sakura falling for him, Fate needs to do the same. More scenes should be shown where Artoria starts to question if her relationahip to Shirou is simply Master/Servant or if she truly likes him. A few more date scenes should be added too.

Changing Shirou's characterisation- UBW and HF really did a lot with Shirou's character and they're his best depiction, imo. The Fate Route, however, doesn't really do that. There are times when he comes across as kind of an idiot and he doesn't have as much of proactive role as he did in the later routes. Give those moments to Fate-Shirou, show him getting better at fighting and show his arc about him becoming that great hero he aspired to be.

More Archer moments- I know Archer essentially had his time to shine in UBW, but I think he was severely underused in Fate. Even HF, where he did still die early, had him more of a presence. Maybe we can even see a rematch between him and Saber right before the battle with Berserker.

Caster fight- for all its flaws, Deen's Fate/Stay Night did give a very good fight scene with Caster. This should be implemented in the remake as well and it gives both Caster and Kuzuki a proper send off.

Shirou vs Gilgamesh- since Shirou isn't fully realised yet, he can't have the exact same battle with Gil as he did in UBW. But they should still fight at least once, maybe have Gil overwhelm him before Artoria takes over.

Shirou vs Kieri- have this one be a similar fight to the one from Fate/Zero between Kirei and Kiritsugu. Have him utilise his martial arts skills more and Shirou makes use of his improved projection magic.

A new ending- the Fate true ending is something that fans do want and I think it would be a beautiful way to wrap up the saga. But honestly? I want a happily ever after ending instead and to have Artoria become a human and marry Shirou. I know it's controversial but after everything Artoria had been through, she deserves a happy ending and a chance to finally be selfish for once.

And that's my wishlist for the Fate Route remake.

[unkajosh]

The time I was mistaken for a visiting minster

So I was in the hospital today, and a patient said something to me, and we talked. (I stayed in the entryway to her room, not going in.) She told me about her conflicts with one of the nurses, and the guilt that she felt over having to call the techs in so often for help with pain management, and to adjust how she was sitting in her bed (she was a fall risk and wasn't allowed to move around on her own) and how her daughter had been in to see her, up from a small town nearby, and her daughter was very happy that she'd been eating-- chicken broth and Jell-O, but this was a big improvement from what she had been eating. She explained how she'd fallen at her house, and when she falls, she can't get up on her own, and she called for help, and here it was, four days later and she was still in the hospital, to her frustration. She mentioned her arthritis. And also how the doctors had told her that she had pneumonia. She showed me all the bruises on her arms, and told me how they'd had to bring in a special machine to find the veins in her arms so they could get an IV in her. And she told me about how scared she was that she would never be able to just swing her legs over the side of the bed again and get out of it. I told her that she needed to make sure that she kept eating; I wasn't sure what would happen, but she'd never heal if she didn't eat. And some time in there, it came up that she'd mistaken me for a visitation minister. I told her that I was there for another reason, but I was going to be back tomorrow, and I'd say hi. She was clearly uncomfortable, and a bit scared (if not wanting to show it), and wanted someone to talk to. And sometime in there, I had to explain that no, my wife and I were in the hospital visiting the room next to hers. The one my mother is in. I was in the hallway while my wife was talking to mom; she has a bacterial infection, and may be septic, so she's only allowed one visitor at a time, and there are rules that we have to follow to go in at all. So I was waiting outside her room. And maybe talking to a stranger turned out to be easier than worrying. My mother has autoimmune diseases. Not an autoimmune disease, not something as simple and well-known as lupus, but flocks of them-- the rheumatoid arthritis that crippled her older sister, and Sjogren's Syndrome, and obscure ones that only doctors in the Mayo Clinic have even heard of. She's had congestive heart failure, gastric MALT (a form of lymphoma in the stomach), and just had to have all of her teeth removed. She now has a bacterial infection; there could be sepsis. Her memory isn't great, and her husband is a wreck, dealing with this. And I'm keeping it together as best as best I can, somehow. She knows it's medically inadvisable, but that would not stop her from grabbing my hand. She craves touch. She needs contact with people, but feels isolated, now that she can't get around without a walker or a wheelchair. Her hands are so swollen with arthritis, I wonder how much it hurts her to use them. This is the thing about getting older. Everyone else does, too, with all the things that that entails. I guess it's something we all go through, if we're lucky. If we made it this far. If our parents did. If our friends did. But the great truth of life is that it doesn't last forever, and the longer we live, the more we see death around us. The more the people we love die. We're all scared of that. We use indirect language -- James Lacy passed on. The late Doug Atkinson. The fondly remembered Gil Pettigrew. The dearly departed Bonnie Kaufmann. But it's death, and it awaits us all. And it scares me. But we're all going to have to deal with that, sooner or later. I don't know. I'm rambling. But this is the story of how I was mistaken for a visiting minster, anyway. Maybe I should look into that line. I hear it's really rough work, but people need it.

[fairlybeloved]

"Can't believe we survived that. I mean, what are the chances?" Still didn't really understand what happened, but hey, he wasn't going to complain about circumstances that temporarily staved off the threat on their heels!

ShinRa was real good about not giving a flying rats ass about their troopers caught up in the middle of the onslaught. Those unfortunate bastards who were tracking them through the old mine shaft were goners, dead, flattened, burnt to a crisp or left to die of starvation if they couldn't find a route out. It was only going to further their narrative against him, but whatever.

"Can't believe how far they're taking this." Maybe he should believe it. It was playing out in front of his eyes, yet there was still some part of him that felt like he was trapped in some sort of nightmare. Shit, it wasn't even ShinRa senior, it was junior and the bullshit saga continued.

People like that, people in power, they were always trying to displace the blame unto another, a scapegoat that would suffer the consequences for the mistakes they themselves made [mistakes... right, more like willful calculations, fanciful performances that were meant for a specific goal]. The sooner they found a scapegoat, the better it would be for them to deter attention away from their own negligence in any situation.

They truly had no conscience, thinking nothing of ruining the life of anyone who got in their way to preserve their own bottom line.

"Hm? Oh!" Zack cracked open an eye, lifting his head up just enough to gaze toward his companion. In one graceful motion, he shifted up onto his knees, leaning down over her. "You're awake! I'd ask how you were feeling, but I imagine, it's not great." He looked back toward the eerie glow of the mako fountain, beautiful and slightly disturbing in its own way.

"We had a little change of scenery. I uhhhh, forgot to grab your bag." His brows furrowed. ".... do you want me to go back for it?" He would if she needed it. Unless...? It was something that could easily be replaced? In which case, well, she was still sort of shit outta luck. Not like he had a gil to his name any longer.

"Can't stay here though. As nice as the rest is, they know the general vicinity we're in now. And we don't want to be here if they converge right outside the front door." It would be a TAD harder to escalate themselves past a threat like THAT. He knew he was probably over stimulating her brain capacity after only just waking, but their situation didn't call for much in the way of sensitivity for such things.

"I can carry you on my back if you're not up for a stroll."

The little origami crane was thankful when Zack proved able to flee faster than the rocks could tumble down and the cave collapse, racing to try to keep up with his pace. Dust and smaller debris flourished behind him with rumbles resonating throughout the floor of the once stable structure. It wouldn't be too long before it was calm again though. A deeper darkness at his back, contrasting the more vibrant colors of the mako spring they'd come upon.

Tiny wings carried the crane towards the edge of the mako. It shook itself clear of any lingering dust, and stared in quiet fascination at the subtle reflection of the surface. Head cocked to one side before gently pressing the very tip of its beak into the substance.

Of course it had no effect on it. But the way it did it was almost as if it were trying to drink it -- Or maybe just clean off the tiny bit of blood that had been there. The one ingredient it had needed Zack to use to initiate the explosions prior to their arrival.

Jez seemed undisturbed as she was carefully lay down along the floor of their new discovery. Soft greens and richly colored flowers cushioned her, accentuating the dark hair framing her features, and the thin scar that just barely made itself more obvious along her right cheek. For once - she actually looked peaceful. Completely detached from the woes of the world around them, and the horrors she had to face every breath of every day of her life.

That wouldn't last, however. Moments pass in this serene atmosphere before obscure signs began to show from Jez. A twitch of a finger. The subtle shift of her head. Slow to rouse, but showing hints of doing just that. Lips began parting slightly; dry and hungering for water. Another small movement, and she was slowly trying to push herself up. Her whole body aching; a side effect of the potent sedative the mysterious trio had used.

She half expected to wake in a cold, dark room devoid of light or comfort. However as her eyes slowly crept open, and began to focus, what she would find would be the complete opposite. Confusion greeted her new surroundings more than just from expectation. How had she gotten here to begin with? A hand risen to collect against her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment as if in an effort to chase away whatever dream-like state she might have been lost in.

When they opened again, her head had turned and her eyes quickly discovered something else she hadn't expected. Why was he here? Lingering helpless on the man who had seemingly saved her. But -- where had he taken her? Did he have some ulterior motive? Nothing was said for the moment. She just stared in foggy bewilderment.

[eternalowl]

Incorrect Eternals quotes part 3

Ikaris gets d e s t r o y e d in this because it’s funny

Thena, while entering a store: Why do they have door sensors outside of the exit door if you’re not even supposed to enter through there?

Gilgamesh: Probably because there’s the occasional idiot that walks through the wrong door.

Thena, dead fucking serious: Then just take the sensor away and let them run into the damn door.

Kingo: *is recording Druig struggling to husk a corn cob*

Druig: I swear I will throw this fuckin corn at your face if you don’t put your damn phone away.

Thena and Ikaris: *are about to beat the living shit out of each other in the kitchen*

Druig, running into the kitchen like a damn track star: WAIT!

Thena and Ikaris: *pause*

Druig: *quickly makes a bowl of popcorn and heads over to the couch to watch*

Druig: Okay, you may continue.

Ikaris: Today, two families will become one.

Druig, in an ominous voice: Two families enter, one leaves.

Sprite: Accurate yet terrifying.

Ajak: …The Wedding Games…

Sersi: May the bouquet toss be ever in your favor.

Phastos: I hate all of you!

Thena: Please don’t turn Gil and I’s wedding into the Hunger Games.

Ajak: BEAT HIS ASS RAINBOW DASH!

Kingo: I can’t believe you just said that…

Phastos: I don’t even want to know.

Sersi:, texting the others: There’s just this bird…

Sersi: In the Chicago airport…

Sersi: I’m going to name it Ravioli.

Thena: Is it on fire? No? Can it be solved with a fire? Also no? Does it have anything to do with cooking? Yes? Then leave me alone, I’ll just make it worse.

Gilgamesh: Hey, I’m heading to Australia-

Druig: Get me a kangaroo.

Gilgamesh: Why?

Druig: B e c a u s e.

Gilgamesh: No get your own damn kangaroo.

Kingo, running away from Ikaris for who knows why: Lemme tell you something, lemme tell you something-

Ikaris: *grabs a frying pan*

Kingo, screaming: Let mE TELL YOU SOMETHING-

Phastos: So, T, what’s your New Year’s resolution-

Thena: To start a revolution.

Sprite: Don’t you dare kill me! I have a family!

Murderer: And you think I care?

Sprite: That wasn’t a plea for mercy, that was a warning.

*sounds of cosmic energy, several explosions, screams of agony, and car alarms are heard in the distance*

Sprite: And it sounds like they’re almost here.

Thena: What happens if you press the gas and the break down at the same time?

Gilgamesh: The car takes a screenshot.

Phastos, who was just about to leave the Walmart parking lot: Get out of my car. Both of you.

Phastos: Please, Thena, don’t do anything overly violent.

Thena: You could sooner divert a river from its course than deny me my nature.

Sersi, deeply inhaling: Okay, let’s try this again. Mary had a little lamb-

Druig: Its heart as black as coal.

Thena: It crept into her room one night-

Druig: -and ate her fuckin soul.

Sersi: …

Kingo: Roses are red…

Kingo: Violets are blue…

Thena, threateningly holding a paint brush: Interrupt my painting again and I’ll fucking bite you.

Sersi: I stay in bed, I am warm. I get in the shower, I am warm. The distance between the bed and shower? No. That is not warm.

Kingo: So, if you die, how do you think it would happen?

Thena: Eh, probably old age.

Kingo: But- We don’t even age?

Thena: That’s my point.

Druig: *laughing manically after Ikaris makes a stupid mistake*

Druig: It’s funny how dumb you are.

Makkari: I always wear red to funerals. It’s my way of saying, “Hello, Death. Kiss my ass.”

Random person in an elevator: Your purse looks delicious.

Ajak: …

Ajak, ready to wack them with her purse: WHY DON’T YOU JUST EAT IT THEN???

Druig: Hey, wait-

Kingo: Sorry dude, there’s no space left in here.

Thena: We could throw Ikaris onto the roof.

Ikaris: How about we throw you on the damn roof.

Druig: I agree with Thena, now get onto the roof.

Ikaris: How about we put Gil on the roof?

Thena: *throws Ikaris out of the car and pulls Druig in*

Ajak: *closes the elevator*

Kingo, Sprite, Phastos, Druig, and Makkari: *waiting outside the elevator since they won’t fit*

Kingo, as soon as the door closes: *opens it and waves*

Ajak: *shuts the door again because she just wants to leave*

Kingo: *opens the door again and waves*

Ajak: *closes the door again*

Kingo: *opens the door AGAIN* You shall not leave.

Ajak:: *closes the door AGAIN*

Kingo: *proceeds to open it yet again*

Ikaris: Just let us fuckin leave!

Ajak: *closes the door, starting to get agitated*

Kingo: *opeNS THE FUCKING DOOR AGAIN*

Ajak, Ikaris, Sersi, Thena, and Gilgamesh: LET THE FUCKING DOOR CLOSE!

Ajak: *closes the door, ready to beat the shit out of Kingo*

Kingo: *finally lets them go*

Thena: I am fluent in many ways of kicking your ass.

Ikaris: GIVE ME BACK MY FUCKIN TWINKIES!

Druig: NO!

Phastos, to Sersi: Are they drunk-

Ikaris and Druig: SHUT THE FUCK YOUR MOUTH!

Kingo, watching a potato that’s attached to his ceiling fan: A potato flew around my room before you came-

Kingo, Ikaris, Sersi, Sprite, Druig, Phastos, Gilgamesh, Thena, Makkari, and Ajak, less than ten minutes later: *chaotic, bloody murder, unholy screeching*

Kingo: If you’ve knocked on a door, you’ve technically punched a house before.

Phastos: No-

Kingo: honk :D

Druig: WHAT

Kingo: HONK >:(

Druig: WHAT THE FUCK DOES HONK MEAN THIS TIME YOU WHIMSICAL PIECE OF SHIT???

Makkari, pointing to a strange creature: WHAT IS THAT???

Phastos: I don’t know! I remember reading something about it, but I forgot the name!

Makkari: NEVERMIND. I DON’T CARE WHAT IT IS, JUST HIT IT!

Sersi: IKARIS, GET THAT THING OUT OF THE HOUSE!

Ikaris: What? You’ve told me about how much you’ve been wanting a cat, then I found this guy! It’s fate, Sersi, FATE!

Sersi: IKARIS.

Sersi: THAT IS A RACCOON.

Sersi: Words ending in 'ie' just sound so adorable. Like cutie, sweetie, cookie-

Kingo: Eyy, homie!

Makkari: But then there's cootie...

Thena: Die.

Ajak: You fuckers don’t know about my knife stick. It’s a knife taped to a stick and it’s the ultimate weapon.

Thena: Spear.

Ajak: BLOCKED.

Ajak: I CHOOSE TO CALL IT MY KNIFE STICK.

Druig: I woke up today smiling because I saw Makkari and then I remembered that I’m still better than Ikaris.

Druig: Ajak, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly.

Ikaris, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

Makkari: Vegetable oil is made from vegetables, coconut oil is made from coconuts, so BABY OIL-

Phastos: CAN’T WE JUST HAVE A NICE FAMILY DINNER FOR ONCE???

Thena: *shatters a window and climbs through it*

Thena: *turns around and helps Sprite through it* Breaking and entering is wrong, Sprite.

Sprite: Okay.

Ajak: Is he stupid?

Thena, Druig, and Phastos, in unison: Yes, but he prefers to be called Ikaris.

Makkari: No thanks.

Makkari: I'm god.

Sersi, tearing up nearly every room in the Domo: WHERE ARE THEY???

Sersi, opening every cupboard after interrogating Druig: WHO MOVED THEM? WHO MOVED MY CHILDREN???

Sersi: SOMEONE MOVED MY M&Ms AND NOW I’M GOING TO START KILLING.

Ikaris, during the Emergence: What has this planet done for you? Why would you want to save it?

Sersi, Phastos, Makkari, Druig, and Thena, in unison: BECAUSE I’M ONE OF THE IDIOTS THAT LIVES ON IT!

Druig: Where are you going?

Ajak: To either get ice cream or commit a felony. I'll decide on the way.

Thena, looking at a dead phone: How do we bring this thing back to life? Magic? Live sacrifice? I know a guy in town-

Eros: What happened to Ajak?

Thena: She died.

Eros: She what?

Thena: She died, but she’s okay now.

Eros: …Can you please clarify?

Ajak the Almighty: Clarification is for the weak.

Druig, working at McDonald's: Sorry sir, we don't serve a McFuck here, so either you throw that one slice of pickle out or we're gonna have a McProblem.

Druig: Why are you burning our marriage certificate?

Makkari: Good luck returning me without the receipt.

Phastos: Ikaris, I don't like you.

Ikaris: What did you say?

Phastos: You heard me!

Ikaris, internally: And it turns out I actually didn't hear what the fuck you just said.

Ajak: Are you really planning to shoot the demon?

Makkari: Don't worry, it's a holy gun.

Ajak: How so?

Makkari: It makes holes.

Ikaris: I feel so burnt out.

Thena: Don’t worry, it'll be over soon.

Ikaris: Are you gonna... assassinate me?

Thena: Well not if you’re expecting it.

Ajak, about to jump over a canyon with the others in the back: Total lack of drivers training DON’T FAIL ME NOW!

Gilgamesh: I love you.

Thena: I love you too. I've waited so long to hear you say that.

*Gilgamesh and Thena kiss passionately*

Phastos, to Kingo: You owe me 20 dollars.

Ajak: What? I'm not aggressive!

Druig: Last Tuesday, you wacked me with a pair of sandals and stole my chocolate chips?

Ajak: Survival of the fittest, bitch!

Gilgamesh: Wow, Thena, you want to hold my hand before marriage? How awfully lewd of you.

Thena: We literally slept together yesterday and we’ve managed to convince everyone else that we’ve been married for the past few thousand years.

Gilgamesh: That's NOTHING compared to the lewdness of holding hands.

Kingo, after being buried in sand: I am the sand guardian, Guardian of the Sand.

Sprite, who is the one who buried him: POSEIDON QUIVERS BEFORE HIM!

Kingo, a few minutes later, screaming at a wave: FUCK OFF!

[fandom-go-round]

How about some little snippets with what ever fate characters you think would be into a partner crying when they feel so much pleasure during sexy times? Thank you!!

I didn’t put Gil in here because he’s going to be in another request but he would totally count here too!

Warnings: Overstimulation, Reader Crying, Crying During Sex, Implied Power Difference (Dom/Sub but not necessarily called that),

Oyzmandias:

“Are you finished already?” The pharaoh’s voice is amused, smirking above you. You choke back a sob, trying to stop the tears from streaming down your face. You try to shake your head but all that comes out is another moan, your body shuddering from pleasure turned pain.

You know that he’s teasing you on purpose. Ozy hums, rolling his hips and pushing himself as deep as he’ll go. You whimper loudly, arching your back and pushing your hips closer, even as your arms are held high above you. He laughs, half mocking and half fond as his hands go to play with your nipples.

“Are you sure you can handle me? You’re already a mess.” You huff at him and roll your hips again, eyes still misty. He leans down and kisses you hard, hips beginning to set a bruising pace. This is the third time he’s stopped and started, and you think you might just die.

You cum so hard that it hurts, more tears streaming down your face. Ozy groans loudly, eyes locked on your face. You think he says something about how good you look but you’re not paying attention because he’s cumming and you’re following again. You know that you’re a mess but it’s worth it to have your pharaoh all to yourself.

Leonardo Da Vinci (Caster):

You feel like your whole body shaking, clenching around the vibrator inside of you. You can feel the vibrations in your throat, moaning around the cock in your mouth. Da Vinci moans above you, nails dragging over your chest to rub against you.

“Oh that feels so good.” Her voice is a low purr, eyes locked on your face and gently rolls her hips. You feel so full and it’s intoxicating, especially when you gag against her and the vibrator buzzes faster. The remote is in her hands and she’s been less than merciful. You wail as she turns it down again, one of her hands tangling into your hair.

“Now now, don’t cry.” You hadn’t even realized you were crying until she pointed it out, face going hot in embarrassment. Da Vinci meets your eyes and laughs a little, giving your head a tug. “Once you get me off I’ll let you cum, ok?” You don’t want to believe her; she’s said that already but you want to cum so bad.

She grins as you begin to move, hips bucking and face tilting back to take her in deeper. She groans and turns the vibrator up, deciding to let you cum for real this time. As long as you keep those tears in your eyes, she’s going to get there sooner than later.

Arjuna (Archer):

You want to say that he doesn’t know what he’s doing but you know better than that. Arjuna’s head is between your legs, fingers kneading and pinching your thighs as he brings you to the edge over and over again. You can’t tell if he’s mad or just so focused on you that he’s losing sense of time.

“A-Arjuna.” Your voice is broken now, fingers tugging on his hair but it doesn’t feel coordinated. You feel like a puppet with jerky strings and it’s hard to focus on anything other than his mouth. He hums, pulling away just enough to meet your eyes. You see his face change as he takes you in, face covered in tears and eyes blown.

He doesn’t say anything as he comes up to kiss you, mouth wet and hot against your own. You moan, half in relief and half in protest as your body is left throbbing and sore. Arjuna’s mouth is harsh, not stopping until you’re whimpering and shaking against him. He holds your legs open wide, pushing them towards your shoulders.

“I want you all to myself.” His voice is low in your ear, your mouth falling open as he slowly pushes into you. More tears run down your cheeks and he groans, kissing the streaks. “I never want to let you go.”

You don’t get a chance to respond before he’s pounding into you, teeth sinking into your neck and pinning you to the bed. Your noises fill the room and it only seems to spur him on, Arjuna moaning and groaning lowly into your skin. You know for a fact that you’re going to get more than a little relief tonight and you don’t know if that’s a comfort or not.

[paper-cuts-and-fresh-bruises]

So I held off posting anything because I really needed to compile my thoughts first and what I’ve concluded is um......AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH LOOK AT IT, LOOK AT THEM, IT’S HAPPENING, MY HEART, I SQUEALED WHEN I FIRST SAW IT, I’M SO GIDDY

This was literally me when I saw it:

Okay but for real, we love this. And with the twist at the end of 2x17, everything has been written immaculately and honestly I’m just so impressed with this show that they went that deep, they’ve really taken due care with the creation of the show in each and every detail. Just when I thought it couldn’t get better it did, and I’ll be honest I was getting worried when in regards to the Nace content slowing down but now I realise that not only was it deliberate but they were saving up for this (at least that’s how I see it).

Now one of the biggest questions on our minds as Nace shippers has obviously been as to whether or not this moment is going to be, as I’ll say, “real” but I’m gonna say that we shouldn’t worry either way as to whether this will be in Nancy’s mind or a real moment between her and Ace. Now, putting aside all complications for now in relation to Amanda and the as ever annoying Gil, as far as I see it it’s real either way; if this happens in Nancy’s mind then it means she’s finally all in on how she feels and it will be a real moment for herself, accepting what it is she feels for Ace, and if this is for real outside of her mind (which btw I would absolutely die of joy) then they’re both finally on the same page and they both take on the responsibility of navigating what they’ve been dancing around and what they feel goddammit. 

I’ve got so many theories of what might lead up to this scene that we’re gonna get, because make no mistake they will kiss and it will be epic, but that’s for me to obsess over, besides words can’t do it justice right now. As far as what I’d like to see for them when they enter a proper relationship together, and yes I say when because there are no if’s at this point, and not to mention they’re definitely endgame; like how they’ve been slow burn, I want things to be subtle, little moments, very gradual, maintaining they’re investigative duo thing, maybe even not really telling anybody they’re together, having little nods with them holding hands and other stuff like that, and if you thought personal space was a thing of the past before then you won’t even remember it when they’re a thing. Oh Oh and maybe even having reminiscing moments where they remember times from past sleuthing’s to investigate or something, looking at each other with an affectionate gaze in their eyes even just for a split second, maybe even a “that’s when I knew I liked you” moment, or Nancy actually cuts her hand this time and Ace fixes her up, little touches that linger. Oh dear, see just like that I’m spiralling but anyways, yeah you get the gist, the list goes on. Small ones before big ones, and maybe the the odd big moment between the little ones at times of importance, yada yada.

Also, don’t think for one moment that in 2x18 it’s going to be without scenes of Ace being in fear of Nancy’s life, as this image below shows:

And if we look closer:

See me with them hands, because there’s no way he’s holding her like that if he’s not a) scared as hell for her or b) got feelings for her. That’s not just a supportive set of hand placements, that’s a “don’t you dare take her” and “I can’t lose her” kind of set of hands placements, specifically full on affectionate hand holding and hand on arm placement. You could say I’m reaching but I’m really not, this pic could easily have had everyone holding her or close in some way, but they chose just to have Ace doing this? that’s PLANNED. Which means that whilst Nancy’s coming to terms with what Ace means to her, Ace is definitely doing the same. Ace will definitely have his moments, looking at Nancy and most likely coming to some serious terms about what he feels. Even though they’re not necessarily, and most likely not, going to be boyfriend and girlfriend at the start of season 3, it’s end up like that at least, I’m sure.

Also on a quick note I was looking at this promo pic:

Nancy’s wrist is straight up cut wide open, and from the lack of blood the Wraith must really be doing a number on her at this point if it weren’t already apparent from the otherwise zombie-fied appearance she’s got going on.

Also this:

I bet they’re looking at Nancy, and from what I can tell the room matches up with the one in the previous pic, I’m guessing whatever contraption that box with the vials and stuff on it is has something to do with it or something.

Anyways, to say I’m excited would be an understatement. As much as I don’t want the season to be over yet, we’re definitely getting a feast, and with season 3 being a given I think we can handle it. Aside from the rising of Nace, Nancy Drew has and continues to be the one to raise the bar with every aspect, certainly I will remain intrigued with how they’ll progress everything going forward with everyone. Also, it’s most likely that season 3 will come sooner rather than later, at the earliest from what I’ve read it’ll likely be towards the latter end of this year that it’ll premier and at the latest is early next year. I mean any wait is torturous, but under the circumstances I think we’ll manage. Also, Nancy Drew is being moved to Fridays for next season so put that in your diaries, we are not letting this show go.

That’s my 2 cents anyways, anything any of you guys wanna add please do. What I’ll say for now is I am LIVING for this show, can’t wait to see what’s next. Keep up the good work! (oh and to all the haters of Nace in particular, keep it coming because in case you hadn’t noticed we’re winning and it just makes sense, I don’t need to explain to you why they’re perfect together, anything I say that’s for me and the rest of us to enjoy, I’m not doing it for you)

[mimisempai]

The evidences of our love are everywhere

Summary:

Thor is worried about his little brother's happiness and spies on Loki and Mobius in a more or less subtle way.

Tumblr request : Thor spying on Loki and Mobius.

As usual I got carried away and added most of my favorite tropes :p

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33254275

1643 words - Rating G

"I know it, that you are watching us Thor."

Thor wanted to protest at first, but even though he hadn't known Mobius long, he knew the man was perceptive and there was no point in trying to lie to him.

He sighed, "I admit it."

"I suspect you have no malicious intent," Mobius said kindly, "but I would like to know why."

Thor thought about what he would say in response.

He could see that his little brother was happy. That he had changed, or rather that he had become the best version of himself.

And this was partly thanks to Mobius, but he needed to see it with his own eyes. In their daily lives. So he had been watching for every moment he could spy on them during their stay in Asgard.

**********

One evening, he had overheard a scene he never thought he would see.

Mobius with a brush in his hand was sitting behind Loki and asked him softly, "Should I start brushing your hair?"

Loki nodded and closed his eyes, as if he already knew he was going to like it. Like it had become something familiar.

Mobius started at the bottom, taking care not to pull, then slowly worked his way up. After a while, Mobius' fingers replaced the brush and it was clear that Loki was enjoying it. He did not startle or protest. He turned his back to someone and let them touch him. This showed how much he trusted Mobius.

Not so long ago, such contact would have been unimaginable. If it was anyone else but Mobius, Thor thought, Loki would never have allowed it.

Thor could hardly tear himself away from the scene since he was so fascinated.

Mobius stopped and his hands slid over Loki's shoulders and Loki held his head back with a gentle smile on his face. Mobius leaned over and kissed him gently.

Thor thought it was time for him to retire.

**********

" Tell me candidly, is there anything in me, except my ugliness, which displeases you? Do you object to my birth, my temper, my manners?”

“No, truly,” replied the princess; “I like everything in you, except”—and she hesitated courteously—”except your appearance.”

Thor had just entered the living room of Loki and Mobius' suite and stopped in front of the incredible scene he had before his eyes.

Loki was lying on the couch, his head on Mobius' lap, Mobius had one hand in his hair and in the other hand a book that he was reading aloud.

Thor held his breath, because the two men had neither seen nor heard him.

Mobius continued reading.

“Then, madam, I need not lose my happiness; for if I have the gift of making clever whosoever I love best, you also are able to make the person you prefer as handsome as ever you please. Could you love me enough to do that?”

“I think I could,” said the princess, and her heart being greatly softened towards him, she wished that he might become the handsomest prince in all the world. No sooner had she done so than Riquet with the Tuft appeared in her eyes the most elegant young man she had ever seen.

Loki sneered, "Of course, to be happy, they both have to be beautiful and smart. I know it's a fairy tale and doesn't fit reality, but frankly, I'd never read that to my kids."

"Sweetheart," Mobius said softly while stroking Loki's hair soothingly before continuing, "Listen to the end, I think you'll enjoy it more."

Loki harrumphed, but remained silent as Mobius continued, " Some people have said that this was no fairy-gift, but that love created the change. They declare that the princess, when she thought over her lover’s perseverance, patience, good-humour, and discretion, and counted his numerous fine qualities of mind and disposition, saw no longer the deformity of his body or the plainness of his features. However this may be, it is certain that the princess married him; that either she retained her good sense, or he never felt the want of it; and he never again became ugly—or, at least, not in his wife’s eyes, so they both lived very happy until they died. Morality, all is beautiful in those whom we love, and those whom we love are witty and intelligent"

Loki turned on his back and looked at Mobius.

Thor stepped back into the doorway, he was no longer able to see but he heard Loki, "Mobius, it's kind of like the two of us in the end," he chuckled before continuing, "except that we're both princes. But what I mean is that you have seen beyond what I have shown the world."

Thor heard Mobius nod before answering, "And you, Loki, have opened my mind.  So there is nothing to stop us from living very happy until we die."

The only thing Thor heard again before walking away was his little brother's undoubtedly happy laughter.

**********

Thor had not often had the opportunity to see Loki in his Jotun form. He knew that even after all this time it was still an extremely sensitive subject for his brother, so he was surprised to see him like this, sitting on the balcony railing of their suite, looking at the sky.

He was about to join him, when Mobius appeared next to him bringing what appeared to be some refreshments.

When Loki was aware of Mobius' presence, he began to revert to his Aesir form. But Mobius protested, "Loki, you know you don't have to hide from me, Sweetheart. If you want to take on that appearance, I have no problem with it."

And as Loki returned to his Jotun appearance, Mobius put down the tray and approached him, gently touching his face, as if he was used to doing it, knowing that if he lingered too long, the cold sensation would be too much.

Loki said in a voice Thor didn't know, "Do you really not mind touching me while I'm like this?"

Mobius shook his head and replied, "No, the only downside is that I can't touch you or kiss you like I want to, but otherwise I have no problem with this shape. I told you before, I love you, I love everything about you and it's part of you so I love this form too."

Then Mobius sat Loki down on a small bench that was on the balcony, put a pillow on Loki's lap, and lay down next to him resting his head on the pillow then said softly, "And you see, even when you are in this form, it is possible for us to be close."

As he walked away, Thor thought to himself that he would not soon forget his brother's amazed expression.

**********

The next time, Thor had first heard just laughter, as he went to knock on the door of Mobius and Loki's suite.

"No, Mobius! Stop it! You're scratching! I don't want you to kiss me if it scratches like that!"Then Thor heard Mobius reply in a sulky voice, which was quite rare, "Loki..."

"No, no, no your itchy skin will not come in contact with my delicate skin!"

He heard Mobius cough before he replied, "Then would you please shave me?"

Then the two men seemed to be gone, and Thor couldn't help but be curious and slowly opened the door. The living room was empty, but Thor heard voices that seemed to come from a small adjoining room. He knew he shouldn't, but he peeked through the half-open door anyway.

Mobius was sitting with a towel over his shoulders, shaving cream on his cheeks and chin. Loki had rolled up his sleeves, and was holding a razor. He leaned over to Mobius, and with a serious look on his face asked, "Do you trust me?"

Mobius answered firmly, looking him straight in the eye, "Intimately." before stretching his chin forward and closing his eyes.

Thor once again baffled, discreetly turned back and left their suite.

**********

"I'm sorry Mobius. Of course I had no malicious intent. I guess I just wanted to make sure that Loki was happy. It was something I didn't expect to see. I think I wanted to see it for myself, I'm sorry I was kind of a stalker, I-"

Mobius stopped him by putting a hand on his forearm, "It's okay Thor, you don't have to justify yourself. I know Loki's life, his whole life, so I understand perfectly well the need to reassure you, but I can promise you one thing, that I will always do everything to make him happy. That will always be my priority. Loki is the only family I have so I will always take care of him."

Thor nodded visibly moved as a voice echoed behind him, "You see, brother you don't have to worry. My happiness is truly real."

As if to prove what he had just said was true, Loki approached Mobius and put his arm around his waist before kissing him on the cheek.

"This man Thor, is the person who allowed me to change what I thought was my destiny, he saw the good in me, and in doing so I finally believed that I was capable of doing good."

Thor answered softly, "I always knew you were capable of doing good, little brother, but I'm glad you believe it now too."

Then he stepped forward and took the two men in a strong embrace before stepping back and adding, "Mobius, there was only one thing that was wrong with everything you told me before."

Mobius and Loki looked at him in surprise.

Thor added with a gentle smile, "You said Loki was your only family, but that's not true, it's not true anymore. Welcome to the family. We are your family and you are ours now."

_________

Series of Oneshot : Together, for all time, always

Fairy Tale used : Riquet and the tuft, oft underrated or shallowly interpreted. Shaving scene, inspired by Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle shaving scene in CSI

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless🥰

[softquietsteadylove]

I have a Thenamesh AU request if it’s alright?:)

Let’s say they got Gil back and his memories too. But Thena has a hard time to accept him since she saw him die and can’t really believe that’s him. She keeps a distant to him and avoids him as good as she can on the domo. So what if Gil does something that really proofs that he is real and he really came back? Where Thena finally believes it?

Would be a very emotional request and a bit soft in the end :)

"Dinner is served!" He turned to them with a bright smile, "get it while it's hot!"

The rest of the Eternals clambered to get some of the delicious and lovingly made food for themselves. Especially those who had been held captive in the World Forge, adapted to human life and missing the small comforts.

He eyed the doorway, "there's more than enough-"

Thena left.

Gilgamesh sighed, looking down at his pot of stew. She hadn't spoken a single word to him since his return. It was so dire that even looking at him was an improvement in her acknowledgement of his presence.

"Hey," Kingo said gently as he came up for his serving. "Don't let it get to you. She's...well, you know."

He did know; he knew better than anyone, in this life or the next. He nodded, giving Kingo a smile. Once everyone had a helping, including a very different looking Sprite, he dished out two bowls and walked out with them.

She didn't make a sound, she didn't leave any trace. But he would always be able to feel that pull to her.

The door swished open for him, sensing its users presence. Perhaps it was kind of her to not lock him out of his old room. "Feeling nostalgic?"

"These are my quarters."

He smiled, walking in cautiously and placing down the two stew bowls. No matter her reluctance to be with him now, it still warmed his heart that his room had brought her more comfort than her own. She always did sleep better in here with him.

Or maybe all she had done was come in here and mourn him.

Gilgamesh frowned at her, sitting rigid and folded around herself on his bed. Her legs were crossed, her arms folded, just staring at the far wall. "Thena."

"What do you want?"

"I want to talk?"

"Anything else?"

He supposed he should be grateful to get this much out of her. If his Thena truly didn't want to talk, not a force in the universe could pry those perfect lips open.

Thena looked up at him as he pushed the bowl of stew into her line of sight. Unstoppable force met immovable object, and finally, she accepted it from it.

Gilgamesh sat down beside her, giving her enough space not to feel imposed upon. They took slow bites, listening to their breathing, their chewing, the clink of the spoons in the bowls.

Thena stirred hers around, taking it in as she swallowed.

He looked at her. "Is it how you remember?"

She didn't bother answering him.

Maybe questions about her memory weren't the best ice breaker. He shifted on the bed and cleared his throat. "It is a little different from our recipe at home."

At home; the words made her flinch, as if he'd lashed out and cut her.

He was slow and gentle, though, like the first times he'd had to lure her out of her room after an episode. "Can you tell what's different?"

She looked at him, finally, if only to express her annoyance. But she looked at her bowl again, her lips pursing faintly as she moved her tongue around in her mouth. "It's missing...something."

He was honestly impressed she could tell that much. "What have you been eating?--while I've...been away?"

That was a risky question to ask, but it would have to be asked sooner or later. Thena took her time answering, which was just fine with him. "Druig would make food."

But had she eaten it, was the question. It wasn't as if she could starve, and all she would need was a bite here or there to keep herself going. But it always made him sad to think of her letting herself go without the simple comforts of food for that long.

Gil set his half empty bowl aside, angling himself more toward her. "I'll give you a hint. It's-"

"Mushroom."

"Okay," Gil nodded as Thena stopped his little game dead in its tracks. She took another bite, though. "You've gotten better at that."

"You don't have bay leaf here on the ship so you used mushroom to make it more savoury," Thena murmured as if on autopilot. Another bite.

"I guess you would know if it was any different."

"It's his recipe."

"It's my recipe."

Her eyes shot to him, smooth and swift and lethal, just like the rest of her. He didn't startle from it, letting her eye him with annoyance and disdain and poorly veiled hope. Those eyes always told him everything he needed to know, whether she liked it or not.

"It's my recipe," he repeated softly. She let him pull the bowl away from her, his hands lingering against hers. If she didn't want him to, she could push him away. She could snap even his bones if she really wanted to.

He had never used his Cosmic Energy against her outside of an attack, and he never, ever would.

"Everything else was the same," he began, her hands - slim and light and delicate - resting in his.

"Beef, onion, carrot, flour, broth," Thena listed off, her eyes horrifically distant as she watched the process of it being made in her memory.

Gilgamesh chuckled, moving their hands slowly. She watched him do it, letting him slide their fingers together until his palm could meet hers. "What's the first ingredient?"

Her eyes hardened. She was fighting so hard to protect herself.

Just this once, he wouldn't let her. "What's the first ingredient of everything I make for you?"

"Love."

Gil reached forward, brushing away the deluge of tears suddenly flowing from those stunning eyes. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart. I've been gone for too long."

Any time would be too long apart from her.

"It's you," she whispered, every fibre of her being fighting not to come unwoven permanently.

"It's me," he promised, understanding of what she needed from him. He brought her palm up to his cheek. "I'm here."

She shook from head to toe, looking at him as if they were in that forest again--as if he had a hole in his neck and was breathing his last breaths. "I see this sometimes. And it's not real."

How cruel. How wretched and unfair Arishem was to make his beautiful Thena endure that. He turned his head to kiss the palm of her hand, "I'm real."

She shook her head again, even as she both pulled him closer and moved closer herself. "No."

"I'm real," he whispered as she climbed into his arms, the way she would at home. The way she would in Australia, wounds on both of them, her dress tattered and trailing behind her. She would settle herself into the safety of his arms and find there as much rest as she could.

"How do I know?" Whatever she had been through in his absence had shaken her to her core. He could ask her about it later, slowly, a little bit at a time. Or never, if she truly didn't want to tell him.

He tightened his hold on her, resting his cheek against her hair. "You'll just have to trust me."

She had nothing to say to that, at least not yet. But she remained in his embrace. She pressed her face into the side of his neck, feeling the pulse of his blood in his veins. "Gil?"

How he had longed to hear that. That one little sound, from her soft little voice. Just for him. "Hm?"

The rumble of his chest against her helped her unwind a little. His hand pressed flat over her back, offering warmth and the promise of his support. It helped her anchor herself to him.

In Australia, if she woke in the night, she would call to him like that. To check if he was there, if he was awake, if he was safe--if he was real. Any number of things. And he liked to believe that even in the depths of sleep, he would respond that same way.

Thena buried her face in his chest, undoing his vest and slipping her hands around him. The closer her hands could be the more sure she could be that he was within her reach.

He would combine the rest of their bowls later, make sure she got enough food in her. But for now, she needed this. He did too, to a degree. He would always need his Thena, and she needed time with just him like she needed air in her lungs.

"The others?"

"Who cares," he chuckled, lying back on the bed with her in his arms. The little pearls in her ears touched her cheeks, and her cardigan was soft to the touch. But this was undeniably what he had been missing in that state of suspended animation from which they had woken him.

[loadedmemory]

Prompt#4: Baleful

Part III: The Beast and the Harlot

They called it Little Ul’dah.

Down deep beneath the duplicitous appearance of an ordinary tavern, the illicit gathered to trade, barter, drink, and cavort with other sinners.  Every sort of pleasure awaited those who had too much gil weighing down their purses. All the known criminals were present, from rogue poachers to drug traffickers, to just the poor souls all too often targeted by Wood Wailers.  Duskwights and Moonkeepers and Ala Mhigans who couldn’t catch a break no matter where they fled.  

Despite it being a den of thieves and cutpurses, Little Ul’dah had laws. Laws you didn’t dare break, lest you lose a few fingers or the tip of your ears to make an example of you for others.  One did not rob customers.  One did not start brawls. One did not murder.  It was expected that violence be left at the door, to be revisited at another time, in another local if one so pleased.  

So the liquor flowed, coins passed from one palm to another in trade for anything from an escort’s arm to somnus pipes to be smoked with other addicts, and shady backrooms were filled with card players, the air indolent with tobacco smoke.  

Tomaistre preferred the company of the dancers, quite content to sit with one at each side, arms over their shoulders.  They leaned in and kissed his neck and whispered the sort of things that made a man’s pants a bit too tight.  Soon enough he’d pick one of the lucky ladies to walk him back to more private chambers.  He always paid a good gil, after all.  

Something fluttered, glittering enough to get his attention.  A card flicked carelessly across the room.  Rimmed with gold foil, it glinted as it tumbled onto the ground in front of him.  One of the girls leaned over to pick it up and hand it to him.  

“Well what’s this, loves? Someone a sore loser at cards?” he laughed.  They laughed with him.

Flicking it over, he studied the picture curiously.  A man dressed in royal robes, carrying a sphere containing a five pointed star.  He chuckled, one of the girls leaned her head against his shoulder.  “It’s upside down.”

“So it is,” he said, turning it over in his hand.  But no sooner had he done so, the card blurred, and returned to the original position, a king standing upside down.  His brow furrowed, somnus addled brain unsure how to take this.  Was it the drug? 

The girl to his left laughed again, the fur of her ear flicking against his temple. “That is so neat.  Do it again!”

He did so, and the image blurred yet again to return to its original, upside down frame.  Perhaps some trick of aether.  Or maybe it really was the drug.

The man appeared out of no where.  One moment it was just the three of them staring at the card in rapt fascination, and suddenly he was standing in the doorway.  Dressed in all black, except for the wood wailer mask that hid the entirety of his face except for his eyes.

“What the swive are you supposed to be?” Tomaistre heard himself asking.  He barely registered the women withdrawing from his embrace.  They had keen senses, and something told both of them it was time to flee.

The door closed behind them with a air of finality.  This definitely had to be the somnus.  A bad trip.  A little sleep and he’d wake up and think this was so sort of nightmare.  

He reached for his spear. Could you stab a nightmare?

“Do you remember me?” the figure asked, his voice deep and bass. 

Something about it did stir a memory in his addled brain.  Warm earth, cool rain, and blood.  So much of it.  “You know they said no violence in here, but that don’t include defending yourself.”

The figure glanced down at the card still in Tomaistre’s hand.  “So what does your fortune tell you?”

“That you’re leaving here in a wheelbarrow, friend.”

He leaped from the couch, spear whirling and singing in the air.  Maybe it was the somnus, maybe it was just hubris on his part, but he didn’t foresee that a man in a wood wailer’s mask would probably also be armed.  

He hit the ground, the spear clattering nearby.  Eyes wide, he stared at the bloodied stump of what used to be his hand.  A quick glance was all he needed for confirmation, his hand still attached to the haft of his weapon.  Another back up to realize the stranger held a scythe, the blade’s edge gleaming bright with his blood.

“You... you cut off my hand...”  

The stranger crouched down next to him, grasping his chin to force him to look up.  “Do you remember me?”

Finally it all fell into place.  It was the eyes that did it.  Blue like polished cobalt.  He’d seen them before, staring up at him shortly before they cut his throat open. His lips parted, trembled.

“Oh... seven hells, I warned him.  Told him.”

The man nodded solemnly.  “But you didn’t stop him.”

He felt the stranger's hand slide around to the back of his neck, fingers closing around his throat.   “I don’t want to die... Please...”

“Neither did the man you killed.”

He wouldn’t have time to ask about that.  Not as the fingers tightened around his throat and twisted fast and hard enough to snap his neck like a dry twig.

[sunflowersupremes]

The Trade

All is not well in Gil-Galad’s war camp.

Characters: Elrond, Eönwë’

Background Eönwë/Maglor because I love them.

Read on AO3

They’d been traded.

He knew - he truly knew - deep down that it hadn’t been a fair trade. Maglor had given his sons away in return for being left alone by Gil-Galad, which Gil-Galad was already doing. It was a trade on paper, and nothing else.

If the Feanorians had also been given a few wagons of supplies, it was mostly because their camp was starving (that had been added to the agreement only after Cirdan - Gil-Galad’s messenger - had seen the condition of the Feanorians and their followers).

No, in truth it had been the easiest way to ensure everyone stayed alive. The longer the war raged the fewer supplies the Feanorians were able to find. Crops would not grow and game was scarce.

Maglor had given them up because he would not let them go hungry, and he had cut his own rations to feed them until Maedhros had ordered him to stop.

That didn’t make it sting less.

He was glad to be in the army, to be making a stand against Morgoth, but every time Eönwë - the leader of the Valar’s forces - would compliment him, Elrond would have to bite his lip. He was forbidden from asking why the Valar had not come to their aid sooner (he had done it once, in front of the entire court, and Eönwë had been spared having to answer by Gil-Galad swooping in to drag his herald off).

Even his position as Herald - which again, he did enjoy to an extent - was given to him to keep him under the king’s eye, because they did not seem to trust him.

Elros was spending more and more time with the Edain, who seemed to have elected him as some sort of leader. No one was watching him to see what he would do (probably because he had not yet stirred trouble by asking King Finarfin if he thought it was fair that Beren was returned and not Andreth. He hadn’t meant to upset the king, he just thought it was a fair question).

At least that incident had finally gotten a reaction out of Gil-Galad. He was tired of being simply sent away like an errant child, with nothing more than a plea to behave himself next time or to think before he spoke.

He did think before he spoke.

That was why he spoke.

But after he’d nearly reduced the king of Tirion to tears, prompting Finrod to shoo Elrond away, Gil-Galad had finally shouted at him, telling him to stop acting like a child and sending him to help reinforce the walls around their camp.

Eönwë stopped by to see him again, studying him with large, owlish eyes that mirrored the night sky behind him. Then he pointed to the bag on Elrond’s hip, where the Peredhel had taken to hoarding food, instinct telling him that the next meal might not come. “You will not go hungry here, half-elven,” the Maia said gently. “We have supplies aplenty.”

He gripped the leather strap more tightly, narrowing his eyes. “Then why can you not share with the others outside your camp? The Sindar, the Dwarves, the Feanorians, the Mortals of the south? Are they nothing to the Valar?”

Eönwë had, once again, been spared needing to reply by Gil-Galad. The king had come from no where to grab Elrond’s arm, sinking nails through his cotton shirt, and promised that Elrond would not trouble him anymore. As soon as Eönwë was out of sight, the scolding had begun.

It had devolved into a screaming match fairly quickly. Elrond accused Gil-Galad of trading in slaves; Gil-Galad had said he was no more a slave to him than he had been to the Feanorians.

The half-elf had said that the king didn’t understand; the king had accused Maglor of abusing the twins.

Elrond had threatened to join Elros and the Edain; Gil-Galad had replied that Elrond wasn’t forced to remain.

At that, Elrond had snapped that he was going to find his family. Gil-Galad had shouted that he was more than welcome to, in fact, he was ordering Elrond to do that.

Of course, Gil-Galad thought he meant Elros, but it wasn’t his fault the king was an idiot.

Elrond practically gloated as he packed and slipped away, heading not for the Edain’s camp, but into the woods. He’d gathered up as much food as he could fit in his saddle bags, and simply walked out of camp, heading to the east where he had last seen the Feanorians.

Back in camp, all hell had broken loose. It was Finrod who had realized he wasn’t with the Edain, when he had gone to visit them. A few people had suggested leaving Elrond to die on his own, but Elros had threatened to disband the Edain army if his brother wasn’t found (no one was certain if he had the authority to do that, but they really didn’t want to find out).

Finally a blue jay had swooped into the camp and chirped at Manwë’s herald. Eönwë had announced that Elrond was merely following the king’s order to return to his family, and Gil-Galad had shouted that Elrond had known exactly what he meant and that he was going to find the half-elf himself and tan his hide (Manwë’s herald had seemed strangely amused by the fight).

No one thought it was a great idea to send the king out on his own, so Cirdan had simply said that he would go and set off before he could be stopped.

But it wasn’t Cirdan that found him.

He felt the Maia before he heard him, but he kept going, his eyes glued stubbornly on the path in front of him. He’d filled his horse’s back with supplies, so he walked instead, leading the horse by her reins.

After a few moments, a voice echoed from around him, asking, “Where are you going, half-elf?”

“Should you not be leading an army, my lord Eönwë?”

The Maia materialized beside him, falling in step easily. “You will not find them where you are going.”

“Then I will keep looking.”

“Their camp has been disbanded. Their followers have joined the Edain army.”

Elrond tightened his grip on the horse’s reins. “Where are they?”

“I know not. Something to the southeast, I believe.”

Elrond turned his feet southeast. Eönwë followed him. “Your king is distressed.”

“My king ordered me to go to my family.”

“You knew what he meant, did you not? Your brother is to the west, by the sea, and yet you travel southeast.”

“My family is there,” Elrond replied.

“They are not your family.”

“They raised me.” He swallowed. “I love them.”

Eönwë seemed to consider. “They would not want you to do this, I should think. They sent you away for your own-“

“Why do you care!?” Elrond turned sharply, narrowing his eyes at the bird-like Maiar.

Tilting his head, Eönwë raised a feathered eyebrow. “Why should I not?”

Elrond snapped his head back to the path in front of them. “I’m not allowed to ask you why no one protected us from Morgoth sooner, if you care so much.”

Eönwë chirped, almost sounding amused. “It was not my decision, young lord Peredhel.”

He snorted. Then - with a bit more caution than he usually spoke with - he looked sideways and asked, “What if it had been your decision?”

“It was my Lord Manwë-“

“But what if it wasn’t?”

Eönwë blinked at him. A cloud drifted by in his large blue eyes. “I do not enjoy war.”

“Neither do we,” Elrond pointed out, breaking their eye contact.

For a while, they traveled in silence. Birds called out to them from the trees, and occasionally Eönwë would twitter back at them.

Finally, Elrond broke the silence, “Ever since the Nirnaeth, there’s been no food,” Elrond said quietly. “Kanafinwë said it wasn’t so bad at first, but as the years passed everyone began to see the damage.”

He blinked, feeling tears in his eyes but refusing to let the Maia see him cry. “Kana would go hungry to make sure we ate.”

“The land is poisoned.”

“Why?” Elrond stopped, turning to look up at Eönwë. “I know the Exiles brought the Doom upon themselves, but it was not just the Exiles who suffered.”

Eönwë sighed, expelling enough air to send up little clouds of dust at their feet. “I cannot give you an answer you will find satisfactory, Elrond.”

He looked off into the woods, at the gnarled and twisted trees, dead leaves drifting by even though it ought to have been the height of summer. “I can tell you that the Valar are much bereaved, that they find no joy in the suffering of anyone, even those who have forsaken them, and that Melkor has long been on their minds.”

Elrond sighed. “Am I going to find them?” he asked quietly.

“I do not think so,” said Eönwë. “And even if you did, I imagine you would be sent back.”

He swallowed and nodded slowly. His feet had begun to ache, and he had no idea how long it had been since he had last slept. It certainly felt as though he’d been traveling for hours, perhaps all night, but under the twisted trees of Beleriand it was difficult to tell the time.

“How far back to camp?” he asked wearily.

Eönwë’s eyes glittered with stars, his lips almost quirking up in a smile. “No so far as you might think. I have been leading us in circles.” He looked remarkably pleased with himself.

Elrond glared at him.

The Maia whistled loudly - Elrond winced and covered his ears - and a large hawk swooped down to land on a branch above them. “Leave the bags,” said Eönwë quietly. “He will take them to your family. I can… make an exception for this, I think.”

Elrond didn’t ask what he meant by exception. It wasn’t hard to understand he wouldn’t be able to help his family again.

They made quick work of removing the bags from the horse’s back, and the hawk simply gathered them up in his talons and took off with a powerful flap of his wings, throwing up a blinding cloud of dirt.

Elrond was practically shaking from exhaustion by the time the bird was out of sight, and he barely noticed Eönwë grabbing him and lifting him onto the horse’s back. He let the Maia take the horse’s reins and leading them back the way they had come.

Elrond was nearly asleep before he heard the Maia quietly say, “Kanafinwë was a friend of mine. If you have need of an ear, mine will always be open.”

He nodded, leaning forward against the horse’s neck with his eyes closed. “He only allowed the trade because he heard you were leading the army,” Elrond confessed. He yawned. “Maitimo nearly called it off when he heard about you.”

Eönwë laughed and the Maia’s hand came up to rest on Elrond’s shoulder. “Rest little Peredhel,” he cooed. “I shall handle your king.”

How many dads does Elrond have at this point? Because somehow Elrond’s dad is, all at once, a star, two mass murderers, a shipwright, a king, and one (1) bird boy.

Also Eönwë totally thinks he can teach Elrond to fly (since Elrond is part Maia AND the son of Elwing) and there’s a 50% chance that someone (probably Gandalf) had to convince him that “throwing Elrond off a cliff to see if he sprouts wings” is a really bad idea.

1

Okay but AU where Elrond befriends Eönwë and after the War of the Wraith Eönwë is like “you know who should guard the Silmarils? Elrond. Because Elrond would absolutely not hand them over to the Feanorians when they come looking for them, because that would be against the will of the Valar and he should be very careful not to accidentally fall asleep on account of his mortal blood. No. Elrond would never do those things. Elrond is a good child, very reliable, and his brother is the king so even if some accident happens he would have diplomatic immunity.

Manwë strikes me as the type of guy that you could absolutely lie to his face and he would believe you just because he wants to think the best of everyone. So if Eönwë was like “oh no, I don’t think Elrond meant for the Feanorians to just… walk out with the jewels… thereby avoiding any more bloodshed… and fulfilling their oath…” Manwë would probably believe him. (also by the end of the War of the Wraith Manwë is just 100% done and even if he did figure out the lie he’d be like ‘FUCK IT. FINE. PROBABLY BEST THAT NO ONE HAS THOSE DAMN ROCKS ANYWAY.’

2

Another great idea is imagining Eönwë just periodically showing up in Middle Earth to check on an increasingly exasperated Elrond who just wants to live his own life, but Eönwë keeps patting him on the head and calling him “little Peredhel” and offering certified ‘Terrible Advice’ because Eönwë doesn’t understand anything about how people actually work.

Eönwë couldn’t be one of the Istari because Manwë knew if they sent him he would just move into Rivendell and possibly never leave and also drive Elrond insane. (Okay, that might be AU #3 because its cracking me up)

Look, I’m not saying that the Counsel of Elrond had to be held outside because Eönwë was sitting in a tree, watching, but I’m totally saying it.

[the-evil-pizza]

ok an actual house seems to be  A little Much for the gils I have so I may just go for an apartment honestly. I didn’t go for that sooner because it would get delated if you don’t log in for 3 months but like, let’s be real I have problems and I would die if I don’t play critically acclaimed mmorpg ffxiv for more than a week

[naancypants]

maybe this is perfect

Alright here is my finalized repost of the fic I accidentally published yesterday, LOL. If you enjoy, I'd love some support on Ao3 (work link is below)! I wrote this after 2x12 (+ updated to reflect news about 2x13 & 2x15, hehe) as a sort of speculative, "personal ideal" confession scene for the finale episode.

Ao3 | 2,051 words

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

"Hey," Nancy says from behind, twisting both hands around the strap of her messenger bag. "Can we talk?"

At the sound of her voice, Ace straightens from in front of his locker. He lets out a close-mouthed sigh as the question sinks into his stomach, and when he turns towards her, the discomfort she's feeling becomes evident in her body language.

"Yeah."

A beat passes where neither makes a move.

Nancy, however, is the first to take a step, drawing in a shuddering breath. "You've been avoiding me... for a while now. Ever since the whole life-and-death thing with Daniel West. And I'm sorry that I was willing to let people die to save you. I thought you would understand, that you would've done the same thing-"

"It's not about the list," Ace cuts in with a shake of his head, "That was a long time ago."

In reality it had only been a few weeks since Nancy and Grant traded a hit list to a professional killer to spare Ace's life, but time seems to move inordinately slow in Horseshoe Bay.

"I know. But that was also the same time I called in for a favor with Celia Hudson..." she allows her sentence to drift off there, urging Ace to connect the unspoken dots.

He hadn't tried to hide his feelings on the whole Celia situation, especially whenever he and Nancy talked one-on-one; yet still, her ability to pinpoint the root of behaviors she already notices in him never fails to surprise.

"I just... wish you would have consulted me before you made a deal with the devil."

Nancy recalls a talk during which she was alone with Ace, where he'd briefly confessed his dismay at her recent dealings with the Hudson matriarch.

A string of monotone words all run together as she attempts to explain, "We already went over this, Ace. I-I-I had to figure out how to save you, there was no time to consider my options."

"Maybe it wasn't worth it."

Within a second, revulsion twists every feature on Nancy's face.

"I'm sorry, what?" she demands.

Ace doesn't elaborate. Instead he lifts his raincoat from its hook and shuts the door to his locker, staring down at the garment in his hands with a shamed expression. It isn't long before Nancy has his elbow in a firm grip.

"Hey," she convinces him to whirl around and face her. "You're worth it to me."

You're always worth it to me. You're worth everything to me. A thousand times over, she wants to say. But she doesn't.

"I guess that's my problem."

"Your problem is that I care about you?"

"I don't want to be the reason you sell your soul to the Hudsons."

Nancy blinks, her ferocity weakening as she pulls away. "Aren't I allowed to make my own choices?"

"Of course. But... that doesn't mean I have to like them."

The way he says it is so casual, so lacking in venom that it makes her stomach wrench. He doesn't realize that the only approval Nancy craves is his; she is willing to stand up against even the closest of people in her life - Nick, George, her own father - but not Ace. His opinion of her serves as a compass whenever Nancy is too tired or worn down to trust her own judgment. His opinion is the one that matters most.

"Then what do you want from me? Tell me what I can do to make it better."

It's the most fragile, the most desperate she thinks she's heard herself. Nancy Drew is independent and decisive and strong. So whose voice is it that wobbles in fear, laying down her pride in the hands of another?

If there's anything Nancy can't stand, it's being clouded over with emotion, but the tightness in her throat only warns of an oncoming flood.

"Honestly, Nancy, I don't know right now. Maybe just... help me understand why before you make these kinds of decisions. I don't want you to get hurt."

Their eyes linger for what feels like an eternity, distanced by walls that neither of them know how to tear down.

When Ace moves, he turns decisively away.

Panic beginning to swell in her chest, Nancy pushes past all the other emotions running through her mind - fear, guilt, uncertainty - and takes one last step into the room before he has the chance to get away.

"I did it because I love you."

If anything could stop him cold in his tracks, it's that particular confession. His eyes meet the floor in front of him, speechless and calculating, each second ticking by in tense silence. He turns to face her once more.

There in the center of the room she stands, the bold and courageous girl detective herself, looking smaller than ever. Her voice is barely above a whisper now, eyes in danger of spilling over, "Ace... I think I might be in love with you."

Ace stands motionless in awe, save for a swallow and quick shift of his weight.

When Nancy gets nervous she often rambles to relieve some of her tension. "I didn't know how to say it before, and I- have never actually been in love so maybe I didn't even know what I was feeling until recently, but, you were with Amanda Bobbsey and not in love with me and it's all... very confusing..."

Breath leaves her lungs as quickly as words leave her tongue, anxiety shaking her down to the core. She blinks when the self-awareness sets in; lowers her gaze to the floor for a length of awkward silence.

"Nancy."

Eventually she looks back up to find him just a few feet away now, having crossed the room sometime after she finished prattling on about nothing. His raincoat hits the bench.

"There are.. a lot of reasons why I can't do this right now." He indicates himself with a curved hand to his chest.

Though her heart sinks, Nancy's eyelids still flutter. "But you- you would? Hypothetically?"

His mouth flattens into something that's not quite a smile, eyes as earnest as ever. "It's just that... y'know, Amanda's only been gone for a week. And I don't want to lose what we have - what all of us have."

"You won't," Nancy states with a furrowed brow, "Why do you think you would lose us?"

He bobs his head a bit. "Things could get complicated between us. Especially considering... things."

"What do you mean? What kind of things?"

"Well, I'm not trying to point fingers, but... there is your track record. With relationships."

It doesn't escape her attention that he refuses to make eye contact when he says the last part. She tenses up and repeats, "My track record?"

Ace opens his mouth to soften the words, but the look on his face is enough to suffice as an apology. Nancy retreats on her own as three particular guys - Ned Nickerson, Owen Marvin and Gil Bobbsey - flash through her mind's eye. Guys she had used as a distraction, a rebound, and a means of sexual gratification, all of which Ace witnessed firsthand from the sidelines.

"Yeah I deserve that, don't I," she says quietly.

"No, you don't. That part's fine. It's about everything else."

"Everything else being the Hudsons, Amanda, and losing what we have."

He offers only a nod. Draws in a breath. "Nancy, I want to love you too. And I'm not saying that I don't, but..." his voice breaks, just a bit, but enough for Nancy to notice.

"...It's not the right time," she finishes for him with a resigned nod; "yeah," under her breath.

This time it's Nancy who won't meet Ace's eyes. She darts them all across the room in avoidance, lips pursing together. "I'm- I'm sorry. This is.. not really who I am and I probably shouldn't have said anything to begin with, but-"

"No - no, don't apologize," Ace says with the usual gentle firmness and a slight tilt of his head. "I'm glad you said something. Really glad. In fact, um, if you're not opposed... there is something I wouldn't mind trying before you go off to Columbia."

"Ha. Who says I'm getting into Columbia?" she asks sardonically, crossing her arms.

Ace gives a subtle grin of support. "You'll get into Columbia."

She stops to consider his words, but then emits a soft chuckle, smiling gratefully at her best friend as though there were no mistakes, no confession of feelings, no heartbreak to contend with.

Time drags on as his vague statement from before remains unaccounted for, though almost as if pulled by gravity, there's a mutual instinct that draws them closer together.

Along with instinct, however, is hesitation - a slowness in the way they line themselves up, a caution in the way they read each others' eyes. Gradually his hands find their way to her jawline and before she knows it, in stark contrast to their prior pace, her back is up against metal with the most satisfying warmth she's ever known on her lips.

Nancy's entire body lights on fire, so much that it takes a dazed moment before she is able to react. Her eyebrows lift as she takes full advantage of the moment, kissing him back with the fervor of months worth of pent-up feelings all finally coming to surface; hands crawl upwards from his arms, to his shoulders, and eventually land on either side of his neck.

For a few rapturous seconds, they allow themselves to melt entirely into each other with the realization that things won't be like this again for a while; not until they're able to overcome the doubts, the obstacles, the emotional walls that they both know would cause more harm than good if they were to pursue this now.

Maybe this is perfect. Maybe one kiss - one blissful, ravenous taste of just what it is they're missing out on is enough to satiate their appetites for the time being and prepare them for what's to come.

With one last surge forward, hands sliding down his chest, Nancy realizes that kissing Ace never felt this good in her dreams.

Then, sooner rather than later, it's over.

Though their lips disconnect, everything else remains. A breathless minute comes and goes before either have any words to speak.

"Are you- are you sure you don't want to change your mind?" Nancy finally asks through her teeth, eyes drifting down to his mouth more than once.

A smirk tugs at his face as he steps back, hands remaining on Nancy's forearms for perhaps a touch longer than necessary. "Few more of those and I might."

Nancy gives a wistful giggle, using her shoulders to launch herself away from the lockers right when her phone buzzes.

Ace watches with curiosity as she opens her latest text notification, but waits silently to be filled in.

"It's George. She says they're waiting for us at their place," Nancy murmurs with her brow lowered, looking at Ace for a potential answer to her confusion.

Rarely one to disappoint, Ace nods in recognition. "Oh yeah, they took it upon themselves to reschedule game night. I was supposed to tell you."

Nancy raises her eyebrows in good spirit. "Ah. Well, I'm sure glad you told me in plenty of time."

"Come to think of it, Bess pretty much insisted I be the one to tell you. The whole thing must've been a ruse."

Nancy shrugs. "Eh, you know what they say. What's done is done." she waits a beat before thumbing towards the back door over her shoulder. "Join me?"

"Yeah," Ace agrees as he grabs his raincoat and the pair start walking out. "Yeah but I have to warn you, none of what just transpired is going to have any affect on how badly I demolish you in Absurd Code Word."

"Wow, Ace, I think you're underestimating my game night abilities. Have you ever seen me in Absurd Code Word?"

"Don't need to."

"I see. Is it because I'm a girl?"

"C'mon, Nancy. You know me better than that."

The ease with which they're able to shift gears serves as a delicate reminder of how intrinsically they are connected; of the level of comfort and stability within their potential when the time is right.

Whenever that may be.

[coping-via-clint-eastwood]

They Don't Even Deserve to Celebrate - Gil Grissom Self-therapy fic

(A/N:  I've been writing this since father's day, but haven't had the spoons to finish til now...  The parts are just, broken, short {like me}, because I didn't really want to dwell on it.  I wanted to get it out of my system as quickly as possible. For those of you who are 18 years old and elder, there is a comfort sex version of this fic

Remember - only read it if you're 18 or older.

Warnings for this fic - child abuse and violence, and self-loathing.  Also mention of sex, no description.

To clarify, I did not actually get hit, but I was threatened, and feared that my abuser would go through with the threats.)

"Do you want to come with me for Mother's Day?"  Gil asked me as we were lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling.  We had skipped a night shift, and then worked a morning and afternoon shift to make up for it, so we could sleep through that night and wake up on Mother's Day.

Gil asked me this same question every year, always giving me the option of a way out of spending time with my parents in favour of doing something that would be actually pleasant for me.  But, like every year, my response was the same.  I put my arm over my eyes and groaned, "Ugh, you know my parents will drag me to be with them."

And I knew he understood.  He nuzzled my cheek to comfort me.  "I wish you all the best.  You can talk to me when you get home okay?  You can text or call when you need to.  Or even come to my mother's house if you need an early escape."  I nodded, taking in all these reminders for my survival.  Needing his comfort and reassurance to last on me for the duration of my ordeal, I kissed him and hid myself in him; he happily obliged and encased me in his arms protectively.

We got ready to go and waited for each other to get out the front door at the same time.  With one last parting kiss while holding hands, and a reminder from Gil to blast music I loved during my drive, we said our goodbyes and went to our cars.  I connected my phone to my car's Bluetooth and put the Linkin Park Complete Playlist on shuffle, starting with Given Up because boy did I have to scream.  When I got to my parents' house, I sat in the car and let the last song finish playing.  I sighed shakily as I turned off my music, dreading what was to come in the immediate future.  But, the quicker I started it, the sooner it would end, so I went to the front door and rang the bell.  When my mother opened it, she greeted me with the love she thought she felt for me; I did not even bother to fake a smile.  Our embrace was cold, stiff, as every bit as hateful I remembered it to be because I felt the love die out of it a long time ago.

I was not in a good mood and not really watching what I was saying.  Nor was I keeping track of what my parents were thinking and feeling because I could not be bothered, so it was a great shock to me when my father yelled out with all the rage and venom he felt towards me and brought his arm across my face.  "Fuck," I hissed, holding where it hurt.  I did not know whether my tears were from how I felt or because he had hit my glasses and forced them into my face.  Not hesitating a second longer, I shot up out of my seat and ran away, yanking the front door open and running to my car.  I was used to driving in the dark; I could drive with obscured vision in the middle of the day.  It was only when my tears were filling up the space between my glasses and my face that I even remembered to pull them off so that they were not pressed so tight.  But I gave them a quick pass over my shirt to dry them before putting them on again, then harshly scrubbed the back of my hand over my eyes to dry my tears, not caring that it hurt because I did not care about myself.

Or, perhaps that was not true.  Not entirely at least.  For I was not driving aimlessly nor recklessly.  I was driving to the place where I knew I was guaranteed safety and comfort and love - a home away from home.  I had barely pulled up at Betty's house when Gil opened the door and ran towards me (Betty waited in the doorway).  I opened the door and slid myself out - fuck, had I forgotten to put on my seatbelt? - and gingerly put my weight on the ground.  "Hey (y/n)- what did that bastard do to you?"  The change of his tone from concern to quiet anger was immediate.  How did he know what happened?  He answered my unasked question when he carefully touched his hand to my face, and I winced and flinched away; for fuck's sake, I had gotten a bruise where his elbow had hit my temple.  Yet, despite his anger, Gil remained gentle.  Always.  He put his arm around me and guided me into the house, closing the car door and taking the key from me to lock it.  He also took my glasses off and hung them on the collar of his shirt.

When Betty saw my condition, her eyes and jaw widened slightly in shock.  "What happened?"

I signed back, "My father hit me."

"Don't call him your father," she said before ushering us to the sitting room.

"Yeah well...what else am I supposed to call him," I murmured for Gil to hear, who laughed through his nose and kissed my head, avoiding where I had gotten hit.  He sat me down on a couch and put my glasses on the coffee table.  Then, he held me so I felt safe, kissing me periodically, while we waited for his mother to come back.  I kept inhaling his scent, for it was the only thing sustaining me, and the only medicine to my pain.

Betty returned with a handkerchief wrapped around some ice.  She held it to my left eye where the bruising was the most severe and Gil took over from her.  She picked up my glasses and took them with her, presumably to clean them.  "I'm sorry this happened to you," Gilbert said quietly.

I sighed and shook my head, my eyes closing in sadness.  "It's not your fault Gil."

"I mean, I'm sorry you have to deal with this.  No child should be hurt by the ones supposed to care for them..."

"Yeah well, my father believes that people deserve to be hurt if it means that'll discipline 'em," I said forlornly.  I heard Gil let out a displeased, angry sound.

"I'm sorry," he said again.  "I wish I could have helped you much earlier on in life, or even prevented everything that happened from...happening."  We both knew that was unrealistic, but I understood he wanted to express that he wished he could have always protected me and been there for me, and I was touched by that.

I put a hand on his chest and said, "It's impossible; you know that well as I do.  What matters is that you're here now, and I couldn't be more grateful."  He responded silently by tenderly kissing my forehead.

We heard Betty's footsteps and turned to see her with my glasses as well as a mug.  She set both items down on the table, then explained, "Warm water.  Drinking it helps with the headache."

"Thanks," I signed.

"You are most welcome."  She left again.

Gil reached for the mug and put it to my lips.  Even though I tried to take it into my hands, he insisted on holding it for me (precious angel).  I carefully drank a sip and found it was temperate, so I drank more.  Betty came back again with two plates of food.  There was a fresh one and what was probably Gil's half-eaten one, which means that they had been in the kitchen and knew I was coming because Betty had felt my car on the road.  "Eat.  You must be hungry," she invited.

"Thank you."  I would keep saying it.  Gil and I released each other so we could bring food into our mouths.  Betty went to bring her own lunch so she could join us.  We could not converse, but the silent, pleasant company was welcome.  However, I did ask Gil, "Who made this?"

His smile was cheeky.  "My cooking is so similar to my mother's that you can't tell who made it.  It was me."  He put his spoon down on his plate to sign with one hand to tell Betty and she laughed.  He then asked me, "What about you?  How was brunch fixed at your parents' ?"

"My dad got takeout from some place my mom likes."  He hummed in acknowledgement.  I added in a soft voice, "I like it too, but..."  Gilbert faced me.  He leant his head down and we closed our eyes, leaning our foreheads on each other's to show solidarity.

Both mother and son graciously let me eat as much as I wanted to, and boy did I have to stress eat.  Of course they indulged themselves as well.  Between the three of us, the food was finished quickly, and Gil did the washing up; it was a chore I tried not to handle because of my eczema, and Gil was happy to do it so I would not have to as much as possible.  When he was done, he joined me on the couch again and we cuddled.  He had one arm around me while his other hand held both of mine, and he periodically kissed my head.  Because of the odd hours we had been keeping the past few days, we felt drowsy; I soon fell asleep on Gil while he rested his chin on my head and fought to keep his eyes open.  Betty noticed, and she went to get a blanket, wrapping it around us.  When her hands were free, she said, "You're welcome to sleep until you have to go to work.  But it's better if you lie down."

Gil nodded, gently as he could.  "Thanks mom," he mouthed.  She affectionately ran her finger across his cheek and went away.  Gil fastened his arms around me and moved us so that I was lying face down on top of him with my arms dangling on his sides.  He grabbed hold of one of the pillows on the couch and put it under his head.  Finally, he fell asleep.

When we woke several hours later, we found ourselves in a completely dark room, because the sun had gone down completely and Betty had not turned on any lights so as to not disturb our sleep.  She let us freshen up in her bathrooms.

After that, she made her excellent hot chocolate with marshmallows added in, and we enjoyed ourselves partaking in it with some chocolate biscuits out the tin, taking more marshmallows if we felt like it.  That was our breakfast, or dinner; who even knew at that point?

When we wanted to leave for work, Betty saw us off at the door.  She and Gil hugged and kissed affectionately.  I hated that it made my heart sore, and I was crying.  They must have felt me staring, because they turned to look at me, and in tandem, I jerked my head away, face burning with shame.  To my shock, I felt Betty clutching me in her arms and pulling me towards her body; I gasped as my tears fell uncontrollably.  Gil wiped my tears, making sure I felt how tender he wanted to be with me, and Betty let me sniffle and shake and gasp, obligating, unjudging...fully truly loving.  She pushed me back only because she wanted to say something to me.  "Even if your own parents don't love you, I do.  Even if they hurt you, I won't.  You are safe here."

I cleared my nose with one last sniffle as I smiled and ran a finger over the side of my eye.  "Thanks mom."  I could say that guiltlessly now.  At that, she smiled brightly and held my cheeks, bringing my face down to kiss my forehead.  When we could see each other again, I signed, "Happy Mother's Day."  I turned to look at Gil because I could feel him staring heavily; I saw his achingly affectionate smile.  He put an arm around me and walked me to his car, the both of us turning to wave at Betty one last time.

That was that for Mother's Day.  Far too quickly for my liking, Father's Day rolled around.  "Ugh..."  I groaned into my pillow, for I was face down on our bed.  "Ugh..."

Gil chuckled and petted my back, finding my fitting childish expression of reluctance amusing (and I was lucky that he always found me adorable anyway).  "Come on.  It's just for lunch.  Then you can come home."  This time, we were going out to a restaurant, so since we were in public, my parents were more likely to behave themselves...and my father was a lot less likely to hit me.  I never wanted to Gil to come along with me to these things.  Because...my parents already tried to force themselves into every other aspect of my life, and take control, and ruin me in that area.  The thing I protected the most viciously was my work, including my job, and my family, which included Gil.  My job and my people were sacred.  I wanted them to be forever untouched by my parents, untainted so I could enjoy them without having the reminder of my parents' influence haunting me.  Anyhow, with Gil's encouragement, I found the strength to go and get it over with, his warm hug, sweet kisses and smile and kind words lasted as protection on me, like a blessing from an angel.

I managed a stiff smile and wave as I neared my parents' table at the restaurant.  "Hi guys."  GOD that sounded forced.

"Hi (y/n)!  Glad you could make it!"  I internally shuddered at the excessive sugar-coating.  Fortunately, I was not asked for a hug since they were already seated, and they bade me to sit too.  We let my father order what he wanted, since this event was for him after all.  Our conversation after that was awkward on my end; they conversed between themselves just fine, but when it came to me, I had to force myself to speak civilly to them.  It was difficult, considering that there was the lingering fear that my father would repeat what he had done only a couple of weeks prior.  Miraculously, I made it through the ordeal without any scathing, and I quickly hurried home to flop down in bed again.

Gilbert, the working bug that he was, had gone to partake in a little bit of the afternoon shift to occupy himself while I was with my parents; thus it was that he came home later than me and found me in the same position he had gotten me up from earlier.  He laughed, and it was as if a soft blanket had been placed over me, individual parts of my body relaxing as his voice seemed to touch them, until I was relaxed completely.  He came up to me and brought his hand down on my back.  "You survived!"  I let out an 'oof' and flinched, because my muscles had tensed up due to the stress, and Gil dropping his hand on my back made them hurt.  "Oh I'm sorry."  He sat on the edge of the bed and began to massage my aching back, shoulders and neck.  I sighed in relief.  He was so careful and gentle and thorough, rubbing and loosening my muscle wherever it was stiff.  Soon he helped me take off my shirt so it was easier, carefully kneading.  Given that my bare skin was exposed to him, he kissed and rubbed his beard on it; I blushed profusely and clutched the pillow to my face.  He giggled and murmured flirtatiously against my back, "You like it when I do this."  After that he kissed that spot and made his beard tickle me again.  That combined with his attentive hands massaging me felt amazing. 

Eventually, I was completely better. "There, all done," he said with a pet to my ass, making me shudder.

"Thanks..."

He picked up on something in my voice and raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

I turned to look at him. "Look, what am I supposed to do? You know I love your hands, and you were massaging me so...I don't have the word, but mixed in with your kisses, and your beard on my skin, and touching my ass like that..."

His eyebrow still raised, he gave me a smirk, then motioned his head in the direction of the bathroom. "How about we go take a shower and we'll see about that?" He offered his hand to me and I shyly took it. We took off our clothes and threw them in the laundry basket and went into the bathroom. I could not stop staring at his naked, sexy body, and playing with his chest hair; he had been touching me earlier, and now it was my turn. We made love in the shower, but even that was not enough, for when we got out and collapsed onto the bed, we felt the desire to go again, giggling and holding each other as we took our pleasure in each other once again.