#His priest buddy probably knows - she was probably the one who told him not to just Announce that he's an angel to everyone lol

[sysig]

That’s not- y’know what, that’s probably an easier explanation actually (Patreon)

[ok555ficideas]

chapter 4 of "We made these memories for ourselves" is now out. Here's the beginning of it

Eddie didn’t remember the last time he was this nervous. He was usually good at starting new things. He had trouble with that as a child, but as he grew up, he learnt to live with it. He knew he had to get over himself and stop making things difficult for everyone involved. So he decided to be confident. He decided to play a part and stick to it until it became natural. 

Eddie liked that no one ever really noticed that about him. It was a norm to act a certain way and Eddie always felt proud of himself when he managed to achieve a norm. Something that made him less visible, less of a spectacle. He got really good at it too. He became so nonchalant that no one ever batted an eye when he joined a new environment. 

No one, until Buck. Because the thing was that Eddie went a little overboard when he first joined the 118. He might have tried a little bit harder to appear cool and confident. He didn’t try to hide, quite the opposite, actually. He wanted to show off because he wanted attention. He saw this big, goofy guy who was sulking like a kicked puppy and felt something deep inside himself the moment their eyes first met. He wanted Buck to look at him and the only way he could think of was to make himself seen. 

He avoided being seen for so long but something about Buck made him crave it. Buck was a brat, like a dog peeing everywhere to mark his territory, but Eddie knew it was all a facade. He spent too much time pretending he was someone he wasn’t for him to not clock it immediately. He let Buck play his game and patiently waited for him to break. He had no idea that one compliment would be all it took but after getting to know Buck, it made so much sense. 

Looking back, Eddie should have guessed that there was something there. He should have known that they were both searching for each other’s attention a little too much for it to be platonic. But back then, they both thought they were straight. Eddie still had no idea who he was. He tried to think about his girlfriends and felt nothing. But that was nothing new. He thought about Shanon and guilt settled deep inside his stomach. 

He loved her, he had to. She was his best friend, she was the mother of his child, she was the love of his- 

No, that wasn’t true. He thought she was. He wanted to believe that, but knowing now how he felt about Buck, he couldn’t lie to himself any longer. He loved her, he would always love her, but it wasn’t the kind of love he had always interpreted it as. It wasn’t the kind he was expected to feel for his wife. 

He tried to think about other men. His best friend from high school, one of his army buddies, even the priest that flirted with him, but he came up empty. It was like once Buck entered his heart no one else could occupy it ever again. But he couldn’t let himself think about Buck either. Not now, and probably not ever. 

He had to focus on his son. The same one who told him he was boring and had to find a hobby. Which brought him to his current situation, which was shitting his pants while on the way to the dance studio. 

He had no idea why it made him anxious. Maybe because it was a while since he did something for himself, especially with other people present. This wasn’t essential to his survival. It wasn't something that was expected of him. This was something that he volunteered for and if it sucked he would be the only one to blame. He used to dream of doing something that would bring him and only him joy. He had it tucked away in the back of his head as a last resort. 

He could do all the things he didn’t want to do and survive the moments he thought he wouldn’t, and at the end of the tunnel there would be a reward. Something just for him. Actually doing it was mortifying though. It would almost certainly not live up to the expectation he built for it in his head. For years, he thought of it as his absolution and it would be unfair to think that it would live up to that. 

He walked into the studio praying that the years of hiding his emotions would pay off and no one would notice how terrified he was. There were smiles around him and casual greetings. If you asked him later, he wouldn't be able to recall a single name. 

The class began and Eddie was already regretting all of it. He was stiff and everyone around him seemed so free and way more talented. There was a woman at the front who was doing everything but what the teacher was showing and she looked the happiest of them all. Eddie couldn’t take it. He was too in his head. He thought about all the eyes on him, pointing at him, laughing. 

He couldn’t do this. He looked ridiculous but not in the same way he did when he was dancing in his underwear at home. That spectacle no one was a witness of. He could let himself go without anyone judging him. 

“I sound like an idiot.” His son’s voice echoed in his brain. 

The music was still playing, but it wasn’t reaching his ears. He was overtaken by a memory. 

Chris was sitting on the couch with Buck. They were facing each other and Chris had the biggest pout on his face. 

“I sound like an idiot.” There was something laying on the coffee table in front of them, but Eddie couldn't see it from his place against the wall. 

“You don’t sound like an idiot,” Buck replied while patting Chris on the arm. 

“I don’t know what I’m talking about.” Chris' voice was more of a whine as he slumped against the back of the couch. 

“Of course you don’t know what you’re talking about, Chris! You’re learning.” 

“Well, learning sucks then.” 

Eddie wanted to scold Chirstopher for the language but he wanted to see how the scene before him would unfold. 

“You don’t really think so,” Buck leaned back against the couch as well to be more on the boy’s level. “Remember when we went to that museum last weekend? You learned a lot of stuff then and it didn't suck.” 

“Yeah, but that was just us. You and dad are lame anyway, so I don’t feel like an idiot when I do something stupid around you.” 

“You know what?” Buck sat back up and looked at the thing laying before him. “You did sound a little bit like an idiot.” Eddie couldn’t see his son’s face, but he couldn’t imagine it was a pleased one. He had no idea where Buck was going with this, but decided to trust him anyway. “But that doesn't matter. This is new for you, you’re learning. The goal isn’t to not sound like an idiot, the goal is to not be afraid to be one. Once you do that, you’ll be able to learn anything and the not being an idiot part will follow without you even noticing. So be an idiot, Chris. Let yourself learn.” 

The memory faded away and Eddie could hear the music again. The song changed and everyone around him was in the zone. The lady at the front was still dancing to whatever music her heart was drumming. Eddie closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

Be an idiot. 

He could do that. He could look stupid. No one here was even paying attention to him. They were all focused on their own thing. But even if they were, it didn't matter. He opened his eyes and looked at the teacher. He started to copy her moves as accurately as he could, now with the previous stress brought down to a minimum. 

He wasn’t perfect, far from it. He was learning and he was having fun. Everything else was pointless to waste his thoughts on. 

[zeroducks-2]

Let’s talk Helena Wayne bc like it’s criminal that we barely get anything about her and that they completely changed her origin and family (the bertinelli mafia family) to add her into the main comic book line.

im torn bc I love both versions of her :(

But I wanted Dick to share some older siblings trauma with her and for Damian to have that “blood” sibling bc I think that would have completely rocked early Damian’s shit. All his life, he was told to be the true heir of Bruce Wayne, but it turns out he has an OLDER SISTER BRUCE HID FROM TALIA AND RA. Idk I just think that would have crushed his lil murder ego and made for some interesting sibling moments and an interesting dynamic.

Lastly, can we talk about how the Batfam fandom completely stole all of Helena (Bertinelli)’s character traits and gave them to Jason??? Im sorry but when in the material source has Jason ever been super devout and catholic? Helena is the religious one, why am I reading about Jason’s apparent Catholicism in fics and HC dumps? Also Jason (besides his Robin days) has never been this savour and protector of the woman and children of Gotham, that’s very very veryyyyyy clearly a trait from Helena and strongly ties into her backstory as a child who suffered coming from a rich bloodline of syndicate crime. And don’t think this is me bashing on Jason, bc it’s not!! I love Jason Todd - but for who he is. Not for this weird fandom version of him who is either still suffering from the craze the lazarus pit puts you through, or this Joan of Arc of Gotham character either.

I'm gonna be honest with you, this character confuses me a bit. I know that Bruce and Selina got married and had a daughter in their Earth-Two incarnations, and this daughter is Helena Wayne, who's Dick best buddy and a vigilante in her own right called Huntress.

Then I know Helena Bertinelli, daughter of a mafia lord who was introduced in the late 80s in the preboot comic continuity, and was a quite murdery vigilante called Huntress who Bruce didn't accept because she "reminded him of Barbara" (you gotta love DC's excuses for sexism and ableism lol it's not like Barbara was dead just paralyzed. Also it did not look like Bruce gave a shit about it at the end of TKJ that Joker had crippled her - "she reminds him or Barbara". LMAO Bruce).

Then post reboot the title Huntress was given back to Helena Wayne, however Helena Bertinelli is ALSO there and she's ALSO called Huntress? She appears in the Grayson run where Dick is an agent of Spyral, and she seems to be Italian-American but I don't think her origin is the same as in preboot? Also I have no idea about Helena Wayne's continuity post reboot - when she was conceived, who raised her, how did she become a vigilante, neither I have any idea where to find this info.

I agree that if she had been raised by Bruce it could have made for an interesting dynamic amongst the bats and birds. It did in Earth 2 even if only Dick is just there - they're not siblings but they also aren't not siblings? The dynamic is murky and I love murky. Pretty sure it would have changed everything for Damian as well, especially the fact that she would have most likely been the first object of Damian's need to prove himself worthy, instead of Tim.

That being said, not much of what you mentioned is fanon about Jason.

Jason had an arc in which he's a priest. Pretty normal that fans HC him as devout or anyway catholic.

Father Todd in Flashpoint: The World of Flashpoint Vol. 1 - this is an AU in which Jason was never taken in by Bruce and was never Robin.

As for the whole "protector of women and children" thing, you probably know that Jason was born in extreme poverty, his father was in and out of prison and his mother died of overdose. He is very much a child who suffered because of a broken system, and given how harshly he reacts when women and children are the recipient of violence "in his Robin days", is it really that strange that fans assume he carried these traits in adulthood?

We see him being sweet and protective to kids many times, or anyway losing his mcfucking shit when children are being harmed (like in Brothers in Blood). Imo that of Jason caring about vulnerable people is barely a headcanon, and I don't see how this would make him the Joan of Arc of Gotham either - if I'm being honest ALL vigilantes should care about minorities and vulnerable people, it's the other way around that is weird as fuck (like that arc in which Dick almost dies to prevent this guy from shutting down Bludhaven's casinos, like what the hell was Tim Seeley thinking exactly).

That being said, I understand your frustration if the character you like doesn't have recognition. Trust me I do! There's a lot of them for me too, especially female and/or non white characters who had maybe 1 run ages ago and then got forgotten by DC, and I would REALLY LIKE to see them more, and to see them acknowledged more by the fans (from the top of my mind, Jenni Ognats or Patricia Trayce).

But this isn't fandom's fault. As I mentioned before, Helena Bertinelli as a fleshed out character was a thing between 20 and 30 years ago, and most of tumblr's userbase was either very young or not born yet. DC forgot about her, stripped Huntress from her to give it to Helena Wayne, then brought her back but as an agent of Spyral and it really doesn't look like they care. Fans can't be held accountable for the fact that she's simply not there. They didn't "steal" Helena's traits to give them to Jason; this implies a willful and malicious intent from people who saw this character and decided her features fit another character better, and it's obviously not what happened - people barely know Helena Bertinelli exists if at all.

Also - I said this about Jason already and I will repeat it a million times: Jason wasn't picked at random from the sea of DC characters to be people's blorbo, he resonates with fans for a reason. Under the Red Hood is a deeply emotional and relatable arc for many people because it's the story of how a child was failed by every single person who was supposed to protect and guide him, and then was failed again as an adult victim who demanded to be seen and heard and acknowledged, and instead was silenced again. It's heartbreaking to see how many people see this and say "this is me, this is what happened to me", but it is what it is, and most of all there is no taking this away from Jason's fans. DC tried to villainize him, to make him look and sound like a madman, to make him unhinged and deranged and they had Tim suggest that "maybe it's the Lazarus Pit that drove him mad", but it didn't work and fans still love him and still consider him a symbol of how "bad victims" are treated worse than their abusers, and keep being retraumatized by a society that prefers turning a blind eye to violence than deal with the issue at its root.

And lastly, bitching won't get you anywhere. I am the living proof that the right way to make people interested in something is to be passionate about that something. You want more folks to pay attention to Helena Bertinelli, then since DC won't do anything with her, the most effective thing you can do is post about her - write essays, draw her, write fics with her, create webweavings and moodboards, commission this stuff if you don't have the skills. Complaining that she should be the recipient of fandom love won't make anyone more interested in her.

[dweetwise]

[Riconti] Ashes to Ashes

Once in a blue moon, I apparently have to write pure angst. For those not familiar with archives lore, Wallace is from Ace's tome "Go for Broke". Rated T | ❗ Major character death ❗ | 3.7k words | ao3 link

It’s a cold spring day.

The sky is gray and the ground is damp, covered in leaves that have rotted from orange to brown over the winter. A few ravens perched in a nearby tree and a car horn sounding somewhere far away are the only signs of life.

The casket next to the empty grave only radiates death.

Wallace swallows thickly and straightens the shirt he didn’t have time to iron this morning. The graveyard is windy and he’s already freezing, but if there’s anything he owes the bastard it’s to be there for him this one last time.

Like he wasn’t on the night he died.

Cold stings in Wallace’s suddenly wet eyes and he blinks the feeling away. He looks at the priest to try to figure out what they’re waiting for, but she just stands there and silently watches the only guest apart from Wallace who bothered to show up.

Wallace has never seen him before today. He’s tall and blond and dressed in a full black tux, the color so dark it makes his already pale skin appear a sickly white. A black dress shirt with a black tux is probably against some kind of dress code but apparently this guy really wants to pretend to be mourning.

Wallace doesn’t even own a tux. He’s wearing a simple green jacket and patterned yellow shirt with denim blue jeans.

Because Ace loved color. Red was his favorite color but Wallace couldn’t do red, not after the gunshots and sirens and running up to the motel room only to see the slumped body and splatters along the wall and red, red, red—

Wallace clenches his trembling fists until his nails dig into his palms. He fucking told Ace that those people were bad business but Ace didn’t care, laughing it off with a flippant, “I’ve cheated death more times than you can count, buddy. Have you forgotten how lucky I am?”

Now Wallace won’t even get the chance to say, “I told you so”. He doesn’t understand why Ace was so reckless, how he’d somehow gotten the idea that he was immortal.

Wallace relaxes his fists and looks back at the other man. It’s just the two of them: Wallace tried to get a hold of Ace’s remaining relatives in Argentina but couldn't find any. He always suspected that neither Ace nor Visconti were his real names, but that’s what Wallace knew him as and he refused to dig further. Ace would have told him if he wanted him to know.

But fake names or not, their friendship was real. Wallace didn’t always think so, but then Ace showed up one day from god-knows-where, after seven years of complete radio silence, laughing and slapping Wallace’s back and asking, “Miss me?” with that stupid, cocky smirk of his.

Wallace’s chest felt full then, like something he didn’t even know was missing was slotting back into place. He didn’t care that the bastard disappeared without a word or that he took even dumber and more careless risks than before. He was just glad to have him back.

Ace claimed he’d been in Europe working a con all those years. He was just as shady as usual, not saying much because Wallace didn’t ask. But based on the spring in his step and the grin he got whenever his phone buzzed, Wallace knew he’d found something more than just a quick buck in Europe. That chick had to be real special for Ace to stick around that long and even attempt long-distance after he returned to the States.

Or that’s what Wallace thought, but there's no mystery lady standing by his grave now. She clearly didn’t give a shit about Ace: she was probably the one who put those reckless thoughts in his head in the first place, demanding he earn more money to fund a life of luxury for her. Wallace doesn't know anything about her but he still hates her.

He looks at the blond again. He’s standing ramrod straight with his chin up like rich folks so often do. He has to be a lawyer or something, because Wallace was told there was someone to arrange the funeral and take care of Ace’s assets. Or the lack thereof.

The lawyer’s face is stone cold and without any emotion. Another asshole who’s probably happy Ace died just so he could get money out of it; Wallace knows the sort. At least this one had the decency to show up to the funeral.

“What’re we waitin’ for?” Wallace asks.

“The others,” the man says in an accent Wallace can’t place. It catches him off guard: not your typical west coast lawyer, then.

“There��s no one else comin’,” Wallace says through gritted teeth, because he doesn’t want to spell out that Ace didn’t have friends.

The man finally turns to face him for the first time since they got here. His expression is just as neutral as before, but his eyes are…wrong, somehow. His gaze flirts all over the place and he almost looks lost, completely at odds with the rest of his carefully presented persona. Like a crack in the facade.

“Just a few more minutes,” the man says.

“Alright,” Wallace agrees.

The stranger turns back to stare unblinking at the casket and, not having anything else to do, Wallace keeps looking at him to try to figure him out. The tux is tailored to a T and his watch looks expensive, making Wallace’s mind immediately jump to how much he could pawn it for. Bad habit.

Wallace frowns as he notices the man’s hands are scarred and blemished. He looks so perfectly put-together otherwise but his hands are in piss-poor shape, with bitten nails and picked cuticles and scabs that have barely healed. Wallace spots gloves peeking out from his pocket and realizes he probably usually covers them. But not for this, for some reason.

The guy must be cold in nothing but the tux, but he still insists on waiting. For what?

Wallace opens his mouth to ask again, when he hears it.

Car doors slamming and the gradually growing sound of voices and footsteps on gravel. And not just those of one or two people.

Wallace turns to look. Through the nearest cemetery gates, what has to be a group of nearly thirty people are making their way over. Young and old, men and women and boys and girls, chatting, laughing and some already wiping away tears. They’re dressed in both formal and casual clothes mostly in black, but also in earth tones and pastels and neons. Most of them are carrying flowers—more flowers than Wallace has ever seen at once.

Wallace blinks. Are they here for Ace? All of them?

A few of them push their way to the front of the group. A black woman in an evening gown and a blond girl in jeans and a sweater hurry past Wallace and to the other man.

The woman puts her hand on his shoulder. “Felix,” she says, voice gentler than her fancy exterior would suggest.

The girl comes to stand in front of the man—Felix—and looks up at him. “Are you okay?”

Wallace expects him to nod or at most mumble an unenthusiastic, “I’m fine.” Instead, the rich, obnoxious dick who Wallace hated nearly on sight simply…breaks.

Wallace watches as his face twists in agony and he hunches in on himself, his body wracked with ugly sobs that sound so unfitting for a man of his caliber. The women pull him tight and he clings to them desperately. It doesn’t even seem like he’s faking the tears. Maybe his arrogance was just an act.

The girl is crying now too, her hands trembling where she’s holding onto him. Her eyeliner is already running down her cheeks and ruining her makeup. The other woman doesn’t cry, but she squeezes the man’s shoulder and murmurs quiet reassurance.

More of the group hurry over to flock around the grieving trio, all worried faces and silent tears and, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” while the blond guy just keeps crying. Wallace can barely see him through the crowd; it’s like they’re shielding him from the world and Wallace’s prying eyes alike. Wallace doesn’t think a man like him needs protecting, but he still looks away out of politeness.

The rest of the group gather around the casket. They murmur and whisper amongst each other, some offering comforting words and touches to the ones who start sniffling.

Who the hell are these people, appearing out of nowhere to cry by Ace’s grave?

“Hey, you must be Wallace,” comes a voice from behind him.

Wallace turns to find a nerdy white guy standing in front of him. He looks young and has old-fashioned glasses and an ill-fitting suit, but he stands straight and looks Wallace right in the eye, with an air of quiet confidence that catches Wallace off guard.

“Y-yeah,” Wallace stutters. Clearly, he could use some of that same confidence.

The man gives a little smile and holds out his hand. “Dwight Fairfield. It’s good to finally meet you.”

Wallace accepts the handshake and asks, “You’ve heard about me?”

Dwight huffs, like something is funny. “More than you can imagine.”

—

With all of them there, the priest starts the ceremony. It’s short and simple and Wallace is thankful, because the only deity Ace ever believed in was lady Fortuna.

Dwight gives a eulogy. Wallace doesn’t understand most of it and by the looks of it neither does the priest, but he doesn’t need to know what trials mean or why some campfire is important to get the gist of it. This is the seven years of Ace’s life Wallace knows nothing about: these are the people he met and the life he led. So many people from all over the world—France, China, Brazil, Japan—and they all came here for Ace.

Wallace is glad Felix made him wait for them.

A black girl in a floral dress arranges the flowers on the casket. There’s so many different kinds and she quietly explains what they all mean, and Wallace chokes on a sob when she tells Ace’s casket, “And Snowdrops for good luck, because I want you to have that even when yours ran out.”

A redhead with glasses places incense by the gravestone. Wallace only then notices it says Ace Visconti, and he doesn’t know what strings someone had to pull to engrave it with Ace’s chosen name and not his legal one, but he’s grateful for it.

The incense smells like warmth and fire, comforting and so different from the cold and wet around them.

Felix wordlessly slides down to his knees beside the casket and nobody seems surprised by this other than Wallace. The expensive tux will probably be ruined by mud but Felix doesn’t appear to care: like he’s happy to lower himself to Ace’s level even if it means everyone else is now looking down on them. He places his hand—scars and calluses and all—on the smooth wooden surface of the casket and sits there for several minutes, murmuring words in a language Wallace doesn’t understand.

When Felix rises, Dwight asks Wallace if he wants to say something. Wallace shakes his head: he’s not good at speeches and he didn’t bring anything fancy to leave on Ace’s grave. 

The alligator tooth he won all those years ago presses into his chest under his shirt, but Ace would be pissed if he left it on the grave. He’d say something like, “I’m already dead, what the hell do you think I’m gonna do with a gator tooth necklace? Win a ghost beauty pageant?”

Or maybe Wallace just wants something of Ace’s to hold onto.

At the priest’s encouragement, some of the men in the group help lower the casket into the grave. Wallace assumed they’d have to let the church staff do it since it was just him and Felix, but now there’s also a big bearded man and a guy with face tattoos and a loud Brit and a quiet Hispanic man who help them put Ace into the ground.

A blonde woman plays guitar and sings. The song is melancholy and her voice sounds familiar, accompanied by sniffles from several people in the group. The priest gives a few parting words after to close the ceremony.

And then they shovel.

Silence hangs heavy in the air. Just as Wallace hopes this will be quick so he can go drown his sorrows in booze, the Brit points his shovel down at the casket and says, “Just layin’ there while we do all the work, eh? Lazy wanker.”

Several people laugh, and then others join in to tell stories and share memories of Ace and Wallace does too, even if he still doesn’t know what a trial is. He tells them about his and Ace’s big win in Seattle and one of the girls, the redhead with braids, snorts and asks, “Was that the time Ace stole a uniform and pretended to be a dealer so you guys could scam the casino?”

Wallace stutters and they all look at him expectantly. Some of the kids are grinning and even Felix is smiling, though his eyes are still red from crying.

Wallace finds himself chuckling and giving them the unfiltered version of the story, now knowing they can handle the not-so-legal parts of it. His audience listens raptly and some even chime in with details Wallace didn’t know about that day—or just typical exaggerations Ace would have added to the story. He doesn’t bother correcting them.

The priest shortly leaves—probably not thrilled about them bonding over gambling and stealing—but the whole group stays to wait for them to finish shoveling. 

Even after they’re done, nobody makes a move to leave; on the contrary, they all settle into a big circle on the ground, carelessly dirtying their nice dresses and suits. Felix takes a seat next to the grave and the black woman sits down on his other side, with the rest already having fallen into place like it’s a practiced effort. Like everyone has their own place.

Wallace hesitates. He thought they were done here, but the others urge him to join them, pointing at the other side of the filled grave. Wallace does as told and realizes the grave acts like an empty spot, like Ace is still part of the group.

Before Wallace can get too sentimental, a man with a prosthetic arm thumps a big cooler in the middle of the circle and beers and sodas begin exchanging hands. An Indian woman starts dealing playing cards and several bets are made among the group before the game even starts. The singer whips out her guitar again and starts strumming an upbeat melody.

“Is this allowed?” Wallace asks even as his chest warms. “It’s a graveyard. Isn’t this against the rules or somethin’?” 

An older black man shrugs. “Loitering isn’t grounds for arrest and I think Felix is more than capable of paying a fine if someone calls the police.”

Wallace only then notices a badge peeking out from his shirt pocket. He’s a cop: Ace somehow befriended a cop, and now he’s here, honoring Ace’s memory with an illegal party like the rest of them.

“Here,” Dwight says, handing Wallace a beer.

Wallace doesn’t ask if they should be drinking and celebrating at a time like this. He just uncaps his beer and raises it along with the others once they toast and the Brit booms, “To Ace!”

Because a party is exactly what Ace would have wanted.

—

They stay there for hours; laughing, playing, drinking and telling stories. Wallace actually makes an effort to get to know this strange group, though he still doesn’t catch all of their names.

Once the sun starts setting, the Korean woman complains about the cold even though she’s wearing a fur jacket. Jane fishes out a pair of keys from her pantsuit and says they have more blankets and snacks in the car, prompting the Brazilian siblings to jump up and volunteer to retrieve them.

On the other side of the circle, the boy with dark bags under his eyes has nodded off against Cheryl’s shoulder. Meg and Jake argue over whether to start a fire now that it’s getting dark, with Meg saying it’s not the same without a real campfire and Jake claiming they’ll end up burning down the whole graveyard. Adam manages to resolve the argument by retrieving a large lantern from the car, lighting up the area with a warm yellow.

Despite everyone’s best efforts to celebrate life and not mourn death, Wallace feels the heavy shroud of grief hanging over all of them. There’s a moment of hesitation whenever a card game ends and someone has to deal the players in again, strange gaps in conversation like they all expect Ace to fill the silence, and bright eyes glazing over in sadness whenever someone looks at his grave.

But there’s also joy and camaraderie. The wind is cold and the ground they’re sitting on is dull and brown, but Wallace can finally see a few flower buds sprouting through the rotten leaves. The group has lost one of their own but they choose to remember the good and not the bad; it’s probably a kindness Ace doesn’t deserve, but Wallace’s throat still feels tight with emotion from the respect being shown.

When the next card game ends, the Chinese girl starts cursing vividly, glaring at the grave and accusing Ace of cheating. Wallace laughs, because if Ace could, he would. Even from beyond the grave.

Some of the guys gather around newly appeared bottles of vodka for a drinking contest and the Japanese woman promptly gets up to join them. Her name must be Yui, because that’s what nearly everyone starts chanting.

Yui wins, drinking the much larger men under the table with what seems like barely any effort. There’s cheers and whoops from around the circle before the singer—Kate—encourages everyone to sing a campfire song together.

Wallace doesn’t know the song so he looks around, only to notice Felix quietly fiddling with something in his hands. It’s a ring: a particularly worn and gray and ugly ring, probably made of simple steel and not even silver. Why would someone like him even have a cheap knock-off like that?

Felix’s bitten nails trail over the inside of the ring and catch on an engraving and Wallace nearly swallows his tongue. He realizes he’s seen that ring many times before: Ace throwing it in the air and catching it; Ace fiddling with it in his pocket when he was impatient; Ace wearing it on his ring finger whenever a con needed him to pretend to be married; Ace having it engraved with some corny Latin phrase because it was supposedly another of his good luck charms.

When Ace returned from Europe, he claimed to have lost the ring, and Wallace should have smelled his bullshit right then and there. Ace wasn’t sentimental about a lot of things but his lucky charms were always the exception. Wallace had helped Ace throw a motel room upside down in search of a rabbit’s foot, listened to years’ worth of complaints after he won the gator tooth from him in a bet, and painstakingly superglued an old poker chip back together after it got run over by a car and Ace just sat on the sidewalk cradling the broken pieces like he was holding an injured animal.

Wallace should have known better than to think Ace would have just lost the ring.

Felix abruptly stills and Wallace realizes he’s been caught staring. Their eyes meet and Felix curls his hand around the ring, holding it tightly against his chest.

A lot of things suddenly make sense and Wallace feels stupid for not realizing it before. Felix isn’t even wearing the ring, but he doesn't have to: marriage isn’t meant for people like Ace and Wallace, and just Felix having something so important of Ace’s and being this protective of it says more than enough.

Wallace considers pulling out the alligator tooth to rest over his shirt instead of hiding it underneath, but he doesn’t want to give off the wrong impression. Ace was like a brother to him and he’s not sure what exactly he was to Felix—friend, lover, partner, kindred spirit?—but the specifics probably don’t even matter. Whatever they were, Ace was happy with Felix.

Wallace settles on a meaningful nod to Felix, giving his approval even if it wasn’t asked for. He then quickly turns back to observe the group’s singing, but can’t help smiling to himself: looks like Ace’s special European someone made it here after all.

“I’m gonna do a handstand!” someone drunkenly announces as soon as the singing stops.

“You only have one hand, jackass!” Nea pipes up.

“Does anyone want to dance?” one of the siblings asks, swaying a little on her feet.

“What, on Ace’s grave?” Zarina asks, arching an eyebrow. “Even I’m not that glad to be rid of him.”

Laughter erupts from the group once again. A few people roll their eyes at the alcohol-fueled antics but nobody protests or shushes the progressively louder voices; not even when someone suggests a handstand contest that will most likely end in a visit to the ER.

Wallace braves another glance at Felix but he’s just smiling again. Most people probably wouldn’t welcome this kind of behavior at the funeral of someone they loved, but Felix knew Ace—all of these people did, maybe even better than Wallace. And they stuck by Ace’s side for seven years and made this horrible day into a celebration he would be proud of.

Seven years. That’s all the time it took for Ace to somehow become a man Wallace barely recognizes anymore. He did what Wallace never thought either of them capable of, what he’d have bet his entire life savings on never happening.

Ace found a family.

Wallace bows his head and chuckles, addressing the empty space on his right. “Twenty-five years of friendship and you still keep surprisin’ me.”

He thinks that, somewhere, Ace is smiling.

[slasherrabbitmadness]

Sinclair Brothers Au X Reader (F)

Highschool Au with the Sinclair Brothers. Fluff and Angst. Bo mentions sexual stuff but in a joking manner.

They have a crush on you while you're dating someone else.

SFW, Fluff, and Angst.

Bo Sinclair - Female Reader dating Lester

He hated this. His stinky, stupid little brother just had to bring his girlfriend over. You’re supposed to be his girlfriend. You just never got the memo.

Lester had the biggest smile on his face as you and him sat next to each other at the dinner table. Vincent wasn’t paying attention, too engrossed in his gumbo and comic book while Bo sat there shooting daggers at his brother. Thank god Bo is always in a pissy mood around his family, they thought nothing of his sneer.

Bo watched with fury whenever he caught Lester leaning in close to you. His brown eyes look at you with adoration. Could tell when Lester ran his hand up and down your thigh, thinking he was being slick. Amateur.

“Y’know, Y/N, ever since you’ve started dating Les, he’s been showering. See Trudy, told ya it’d take a girlfriend to get him to act human.” Lester went bright red and looked down in embarrassment.

“Victor! What you mean is it’s nice to see Lester so happy he’s just showing us all just how happy.” Trudy knew what Victor said was right, just it broke her heart to see Lester’s face fall at his words.

“Let’s hope it lasts,” Victor mumbled.

“It won’t,” replied Bo.

“Beauregard! Can you not?” Trudy fumed. Bo stood up from the table not wanting to be a part of the awkward tension that was dinner. He stole a glance at you as he walked away. He swore he saw it, that look. The look of “Please don’t leave.”

He lied in bed, not wanting to listen to your laughter downstairs, Lester singing your praises, how you both planned on going out Friday night for another date. Fuck.

That night it was Vincent who went to Check up on Bo. Your Twin will just know when something is off.

“She looked at me, y’know. I could read her eyes. She didn’t want me away from her.” Bo said with a smug knowing tone. Vincent shook his head and signed,

“She probably felt bad, felt awkward, it was her first time here.”

“Ya, well, let’s hope it’s her last.”

Vincent turned towards the door. He slumped his shoulders. Bo took in what Vincent was staring at. His stupid stinky little brother. Lester’s eyes, usually so vibrant, were downcast, a little glossy even.

“...Just because you hate her, Bo…” Lester couldn’t finish before he walked away from his older brothers, cursing himself for not sticking up for you.

Vincent gave Bo a knowing look and left.

Bo stewed on his bed, remembering when he first fell for you. Mrs. Power had partnered you up in science class. Bo wasn’t the best partner, he never did the work but he sure could make you laugh. When you first laughed at one of his jokes, be it from genuine humor or just being nice, Bo fell in love.

Then why didn’t he ask you out? Why did he have to date those other girls instead of you? Would be an ass to you in front of his friends but sweet on ya when it was just you and him. Why did Lester have to bug him at his lockers? Lester had immediately taken a shine to you right then and there. Why did you have to fall for his stupid stinky little brother, the one who used axe body spray like a shower? The weird one who collected roadkill and was friends with the employees at the dump.

How in the hell could his brother think he hated you. You. Warm, funny, kind you.

Bo doesn’t hate you. He wishes he did...

Lester Sinclair - Female Reader dating Metalhead Vincent

Lester made his way to Bo’s truck. Dodging past his peers and moving cars, Bo always parked the furthest away in the student parking lot. He wanted his car right at the exit so he could get the hell out of school asap.

“Hey, Bo!”

“Hey, Rat boy.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that.”

“What? You are our Rat boy.” Lester hated his brother. But he was Lester’s ride home so he never pushed a disagreement too far.

The two stood in awkward silence just waiting. Bo broke the silence with a huff. “The Freak is probably three deep in her right now.” Normally Lester would laugh at such a crude remark but it involved you. He didn’t want to treat you as some faceless girl the guys joked about being ‘loose’

“That freak better hurry up, he has a doctor’s app in an hour. And Dad likes it when a patient gets there early. Crotchety old man…”

Lester just stood there, remembering the last skin graft surgery and how the skin didn’t take to Vincent at all. Vincent tried his best to hide the pain, the physical and mental, but late one night he could hear his brother sobbing a room away.

“You know since he started dating, Y/N, he’s been less nervous about these appointments. Fine by me, I can’t stand when his ass gets all moppy.”

Lester knew what Bo meant. Bo got just as nervous as Vincent and vice versa. It was some weird twin thing they shared.

“There’s the fucker!” Bo pointed you and Vincent out. Lester had seen you and Vincent countless times together and every time he saw you both it felt like the first time all over again. That twist in his gut and pain in his throat. He remembers the first time he saw you with Vincent. You were acting all shy around Vincent’s metalhead buddies. They kept patting Vincent on the back,

“Good job, man!”

“Didn’t think you’d get a cute one.”

“Hey, Y/N, got any friends?”

Vincent wore his wax facial prosthetic covering most of his face but Lester knew that his brother was as red as a tomato.

Lester remembers meeting you in geography class. In the same group tasked to map out the local park. You and Lester buddied up, mapping the wooded trail. “Oh, Lester look, frog bones!” You quickly covered your mouth, embarrassed at pointing out something so weird but Lester fell in love. A girl into vulture culture? Perfect. You and Lester looked around for more bones, finding none. You handed him the frog skull. “Here, a memento of this weird day.” You smiled as you said it, Lester knowing you wanted to say more but fear of sounding sappy took over you.

Lester should have known it was the beginning of the end of the night you stopped by to drop off his assignments after he had been sick with mono. Instead of Lester at the door greeting you, it was his long hair, covered in judas priest-like stud bracelets and, Metallica shirt-wearing brother.

“Hi, Vincent! Huh, these are for Lester, do you mind giving these to him?” Lester wanted to scream out to you but with his groggy state wouldn’t allow it. He had no idea what Vincent was attempting to say to you, Vincent could speak but it was horse and quiet. Lester fell back asleep, your laughter from downstairs should have been soothing, should have made him feel better, but knowing it was because of Vincent…

You and Vincent were hand in hand making your way to Bo’s truck. Bo wore a straight face while Lester hid his disdain. “Hey, Lester!” You shouted with a smile! Damn it, Lester tried to hide his blush, he turned his head around to make sure you didn't catch it.

“Y/N, wanna ride home? If so, hurry up, Candle Head has an appointment.”

Vincent flipped Bo off and helped you into the truck. You snuggled together in the back seat of the car, Vincent nuzzling into your hair and murmuring sweet nothings.

Bo gave Lester a look, smirking at Lester’s scowling.

Vincent grumbled as Bo pulled up to your place. He tapped Bo on the shoulder and Bo nodded, understanding his brother without words.

Vincent walked you to your door, his large hand holding yours. You kept looking up to Vincent, smiling and giggling.

“Les, you can stop scowling.” Said Bo.

Lester grumbled.

“If it helps you, do it for now. Just learn to get over it. Vincent has never been happier. When Candle Head is happy, I feel it. When he’s sad, I feel it. So just let Vincent have this. Besides, you chickened out on asking her.”

Lester ignored his brother and watched you and Vincent. “Oh shit, haha, Hey Candle Head! Nice one!” Bo shouted out the window to his brother, making Lester’s ear ring in the process.

Lester watched as Vincent removed some of his wax prosthetic and gave you a deep kiss. His stomach churned, his heart stopped, his head felt full and his left ear was still ringing.

Bo was right. Lester had chickened out. He had so many opportunities to ask you out but his insecurities got the best of him. He couldn’t be too mad, Vincent was happy for the first time in years. He’d learn to be happy for his brother, but not happy at losing out on you.

Vincent Sinclair - Female Reader dating Bo.

“Hey, Vin, want some? Vin?” Vincent stared intently, eye not leaving you. Lester spoke up “Hey, Candle Head?” Vincent whipped his head at his little brother, he had his prosthetic on but Lester knew he was scowling. “Hey, got yer attention. Want some of this?” Lester shoved a funnel cake in his brother's face. Before Vincent could react “Well, too bad, you’ll have to get yer own.”

God, Vincent hated his brother sometimes. Speaking of brothers. Bo had you under his arm, shouting over your head to one of his friends “Ya, see you later, no, much later, I’ll be busy!” He leaned down to kiss your cheek “Busy with you, Dollface.” Vincent loved your laughter, just hated when it was Bo who made you laugh.

“Hey, Candle Head, gotta fiver?”

“Bo, don’t call him that, it's mean.”

“It’s a family thing, Candle Head don't mind, right?”

“Stop it, Bo!”

Bo scoffed at you and sneered at Vincent. “I’m gonna bum us some food.” He said to you as he kissed you on the forehead. Bo slammed his shoulder into his brother as he walked by. Vincent stood firm, his wider frame feeling nothing against his brother.

Walking up to Vinny you placed your hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for him. I know he’s your twin but he still doesn’t have to be that mean.” Vincent shrugged his shoulders, hands deep in his pockets. He fought the strong urge to pull you into him, hold your head into his chest and never let you go. He hated himself for being so sappy over you but he really couldn’t help it.

Vincent remembered when he first met you, the school library after class time. He was looking for an art history book. He saw you in the same aisle, grabbing scanning for what he remembers was ‘a book about frogs’ It was for your science class. Vincent walked over to you, did his best to speak, and ask what you needed. You excitedly told him, which shocked him. Mostly because, even though he talks to girls, they are never happy to talk to him. You rambled on and on to him, how annoyed you were at your stupid science partner, Bo. Vincent laughed, explaining to you that was his stupid brother.

“I feel like an ass. Sorry.” You sighed and hid your face behind your hands. Vincent assured you that it was okay and Bo is an asshole. If Bo was an asshole, why did you have to start dating him?

He remembers when Bo snapped at you in the hallway, the embarrassment was all over your face. Remembers when Bo stood you up on a date. You came into school the next day cussing out Bo. He called you a bitch and from that moment on he found a new sense of hatred for his twin.

“Hey, Candle Head, get yer own girlfriend, Babe, get over here.” Vincent gave you a sad look as you returned one to him. You ran into Bo’s arms and he spun you around, careful not to drop the red snow cone in his hand. “See, Babe, Red, so we both can enjoy it.” You giggled sweetly at him, he held it up to you, pushing it into your nose.

“Bo!” You scolded but laughed as he kissed the red juice off the tip of your nose.

Vincent’s feet felt like lead. He wanted nothing more than to walk away and not look at the gut-wrenching scene, but seeing you bashful and just got to Vincent. He’d give anything to have that be you and him. Give anything to go back to the day he met you and ask you out himself.

“Come on, Candle Head, we need one more person for the strawberry twirly ride thing,” Bo called out, gesturing for Vincent to follow. You turned to Vincent and grinned at him.

“Come on, Vinny!” For you, Vincent would follow. No matter how much it hurts.

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

I'm sad so I'm doing more Athelstan headcanons and nothing you can do can stop me

Modern au Athelstan wears glasses

Has an INCREDIBLY dry sense of humour. Rarely makes jokes but when he does it's hard to tell if he's even joking or not, until you look at his eyes and can tell he's smiling inside

After Gyda died, things were tense between him and Lagertha for a while. Even though she knew it was irrational, a part of her resented him for living while her own daughter was dead, and Athelstan could tell

He let her be alone for the most part, but it came to the point where she wouldn't speak to him at all, and one day when they happened to be alone together he quietly told her it wasn't her fault and the poor woman broke down crying, it was the first and only time he ever saw her cry

Speaking of the plague episode, he spent day and night looking after the other patients before getting sick himself, probably denying he was even sick for as long as he could to keep caring for the others

He thinks he's blocked out most of ~the crucifixion incident~, but memories of it come back to him at the most random times and make him realize how very real it was

Yes Athelnar is fantastic, you'll never hear me deny that, but I also love the idea of him being like...kind of an adopted son to Ragnar and Lagertha? Idk especially in the first season not counting the scene where they invite him into a threeway I get some serious 'whoops we've got an extra kid now' vibes

(Lagertha is basically one of those parents who insists they don't want a dog and then like a month later will not under any circumstances be separated from said dog)

This might not be very realistic but fuck it, once accidentally calls Lagertha 'mother.' It just slips out in conversation and takes him a second to realize what he said, he stares at the floor silently for a few seconds and then just turns around and leaves the room

Remember how I said everyone picks him up? Honestly I think adult Bjorn would do it the MOST just to bug him because he remembers when he was like half his height and now he's a giant what happened

Very occasionally swears at people in Latin under his breath, no one knows what he's saying but some of them definitely not Floki spread it around that he puts curses on people

Fucking amazing at chess and strategy games. Ragnar beat him ONCE and straight up celebrated, Floki played him once and never again because he thought "even if it's the priest screw it it's a challenge." Ended up losing. Badly. Was not impressed. (@adhdnightmare)

Really into gardening. This is kind of a general monk thing but also just a him thing. The Lothbrok farm had a small vegetable garden that it was his job to tend and it honestly brought him a lot of peace in those early days when things were probably still really weird emotionally with him

When he's sick or injured his approach is basically to do the maximum amount he can do for it efficiently and on his own, and then hide. Like, if he has no other obligations he'll just find a private space and hole up there avoiding people

If he DOES have obligations, you bet he just pushes right through them and hopes nobody notices anything's wrong - and he's so quiet normally that usually nobody does

There have been a few times when he's shown up at a feast with a cold or a migraine or a sprained ankle and got called out by Ragnar for it

On that note, whenever something is wrong with him Ragnar's usually hidden soft side comes out. That dude may be a fearsome warrior but when something is up with is lil buddy you bet he drops everything for him (this isn't even a headcanon honestly)

I can see him getting tension headaches a lot from eye strain (maybe I'm just projecting here)

Sometimes very early in the morning before anyone else is awake he'll go down by the river and just sit, listening to the water and the wind in the trees

Part 3

Part 2

Part 1

[jackson--t]

The last one turns off the light - Chapter 2

Words: 4.6 k

Tag Buddys: @youbloodymadgenius @ritual-unions-gotme

Here we go. Remember: this is just a fun thing for me, so it's not deep or serious. 🖤 AO3 down here, or if you want to stay - underneath the link. 😁

Bjorn, Torvi, Sigurd & Uncle Alfy

 Bjorn stared at the coffin in the living room. It was a strange feeling to see it standing here, now that it was the right one - they had taken an extra look before the funeral home had left. It left a certain kind of heaviness on Bjorn's heart, and the pain of losing his father bored into his mind a little more real with this sight. Bjorn was tough, and he would hardly show any outward emotion here either - yet there was something numbing about it.

Aslaug and Ragnar's house slowly filled up. Relatives trickled in, and the priest came as well. He shook hands with Bjorn, Sigurd, and Torvi; he seemed kind and composed, and Bjorn was grateful that he did not offer his condolences as well. The fact that this funeral was much earlier than they thought was hard enough.

"I think we should start as soon as everyone gets here. Is Ivar going to give the speech after me?" the priest asked with a smile; Bjorn scratched his head slightly, then shook his head.

"Oh no, I'll... I'll give that one."

"Oh." the priest said, smiling encouragingly at Bjorn; he nodded to the three as he turned to more guests. Bjorn turned his gaze to Sigurd, who could hardly contain his laughter.

"What? That's not funny, he looked at me like I was learning disabled," Bjorn muttered; he could feel Torvi lightly stroking his back as Sigurd still laughed softly.

"You are learning disabled. That's probably what everyone who hears the news thinks," he grumbled, cashing in on a smack to the back of his head from Torvi. The three were silent for a moment; then Bjorn suddenly crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared at a man mingling with the guests with a soft smile. He seemed odd; he had brown curls and didn't seem like he knew anyone here.

"Look at that guy, Sigurd. Who the hell is that?" he whispered; his brother and Torvi also turned their gaze to the strange man, and Torvi raised his eyebrows.

"Maybe he's a friend of your father?" she said quietly; the three of them smiled affectedly as the guy looked in their direction with a soft smile.

"He's looks like a fag."

"Sigurd!"

"What, look at him. We know dad's friends, they're all different than that one. Oh my god, and here comes Uncle Alfy, oh shit. Did he have to come in a wheelchair?" Sigurd grumbled, and Bjorn had to stifle a smile. He knew exactly what Sigurd meant; Uncle Alfy may have been old, but he was by no means a smart mouth. He had the meanest mouth after Ivar, and was never above beating up people who got in his way with his cane or calling them potato Nazis.

"He just can't walk right." Bjorn retorted; he waved at Uncle Alfy, and was only dismissed with a grumbling look.

"He'll never forgive you for taking his...heeeey, Uncle Alfy!" Sigurd said, amused, as Uncle Alfy scowled and rolled over to them, and Bjorn patted him lightly on the back. Uncle Alfy's mouth twisted; he looked at the three of them and then wrinkled his nose.

"What are you losers doing here, standing around so stupid? Can we get this started now?" Uncle Alfy grumbled, looking up at Sigurd, who by now had almost hidden his smile again.

"We're still waiting for our brothers, Uncle Alfy."

"What, aren't those bums here yet? And cut your hair, you look like a used tampon!" the old man grunted before pushing past them, almost running over Sigurd's foot in the process.

Sigurd crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "My God, why didn't he bite the dust instead of Dad? I don't think he's ever had any kind words for us. He used to call me a rug rat when I was a kid."

"Excuse me?"

A soft, masculine voice addressed Bjorn from the side; Bjorn turned slightly to the side and saw that it was the strange man from a moment ago they had been talking about; he returned the smile wanly and raised his eyebrows as the man began to speak softly.

"Hello, I'm really very sorry to bother you here... I... I'm an old friend of your father's, and I've heard a lot about you. You're Bjorn, aren't you?" the man said kindly; Bjorn's eyebrows drew together slightly, but then he nodded bluntly. His eyes remained on the man, who was still looking at him in an overly friendly manner; something told him that something was wrong with the man.

"Yes... exactly. Is there something I can do for you?" Bjorn asked.

The man smiled. "Did your father ever mention me? My name is Athelstan."

Bjorn considered; he breathed in and out for a moment, his mind actually elsewhere than on an old friend of his father's, and gave Sigurd a quick glance, who only rolled his eyes.

"No, he didn't."

"Oh, what a pity. Do you think we can talk a little later? I have something important to discuss with you."

"What here, now?" Bjorn asked; he looked at the strange man, and he nodded slightly. What was on the guy's mind? They were at his father's funeral, and no one really knew him - Bjorn could suppress his anger, but his confusion certainly jumped in the man's face.

But when Bjorn wanted to retort something less friendly, he came to no answer, because the doors of the front door opened again, and his brothers entered.

 

Ubbe, Ivar, Heahmund, Hvitserk & Eggsy

 

"Holy shit, I hate funerals," Ivar grumbled; his hand had clasped around Heahmund's forearm as he gave various relatives a smiling look.

Ivar didn't like death in general; but to be at his father's funeral now, that was really completely something he was inwardly resisting. He didn't like to feel grief, and he didn't like to see anyone feeling grief - especially his own family. His hand gripped tighter around Heahmund's arm, and he pulled Hvitserk along with him as well, who turned his head in all directions, slightly confused.

"Wow.", Hvitserk said quietly; his gaze went over the windows in confusion, and he pointed to the large pane in the living room that led out to the garden. "Dude, that looks like it's indoors outside. This room is so green."

"What?" Ivar grunted; though of course it was terrible that Hvitserk was on Eggsy's tablets; but they had to make the best of it. Stick it out, and hope no one exchanged too many words with the extremely confused Hvitserk. Ivar felt a slight chill run down his arm when he saw his father's coffin placed in the middle of the room - there was something real about it that made the whole situation not quite as funny anymore; at least for the moment Ivar's eyes were fixed on the coffin. But that was quickly changed again when he had to pull Hvitserk to him once more so that he wasn't running around haphazardly in the area.

"He's as high as anything... Just be glad Ubbe hasn't noticed anything yet," Heahmund murmured to him. They both glanced at Ubbe, who had just shaken hands with their aunt and put on his "I'm so terribly sad" look; they stared at him for a moment, then Heahmund sighed.

"I'm going to kill Eggsy for this."

Ivar grinned slightly. "Me too. Which I think is actually quite funny too, I mean... Hvitserk at least isn't sad. He would have cried all the time otherwise, you know him. So, I'd rather like this than have to see him hurt."

"Already, yes... Ah, speak of the devil." Heahmund replied, pointing to the front door; Eggsy was just entering. He was indeed wearing a shirt and jacket and had sensible pants on; but Heahmund's hand went directly to his forehead in embarrassment, and he clicked his tongue. Eggsy was wearing his ever-popular baseball cap and white sneakers to boot.

"He looks like he stole the clothes from the nearest Snipes store," Ivar laughed softly, and had to pull himself together when Aunt Helga gave Eggsy a strange look. Eggsy didn't seem to mind; he winked at Aunt Helga in amusement before joining Heahmund and Ivar. Hvitserk stared open-mouthed at the ceiling.

"Guys, I feel dressed up." Eggsy muttered, scratching at his jacket; Ivar let out a low snort, and almost choked on his own laughter when Ubbe suddenly set his sights on the four of them.

"Shh, be quiet. Ubbe's coming over, and you know what to do. Don't you actually have an antidote for this shit? I'm really scared this is going to go to shit," Ivar whispered, pressed; his arm gripped his brother tighter.

"No, man, how the hell am I supposed to... Well, Ubbe? How are ya? Sorry, funerals aren't my thing at all." Eggsy muttered, throwing Ubbe a smile; Ubbe raised his eyebrows in confusion, then nodded to Ivar and Heahmund.

"The speech of the priest is about to begin. Hvitserk, do you want to sit next to me?" Ubbe said; Hvitserk responded with a snort.

"Hahahaha, nope."

Ivar yanked Hvitserk by the arm even closer, then smiled. "He said he wants to sit next to us, it's okay, right? He's not doing so well, somehow..."

Ubbe raised his eyebrows, then turned his gaze to Heahmund and Ivar, both of whom were putting on absolute innocent airs and trying to look as composed as possible; only Hvitserk was grinning broadly and slightly drooling at Ubbe, while Eggsy scratched the back of his neck, not looking at Ubbe at all, but suddenly finding the carpet pattern on the floor terribly interesting. It took exactly two seconds for Ubbe to grab Eggsy hard by the back of the neck and pull him along.

"Hey, what the...?" Eggsy said still; he gave Ivar an uncertain look as he was dragged outside the door by Ubbe; Ivar bit his lower lip hard and looked at Heahmund.

"He knows."

"He sure does."

"I hope he leaves him in one piece, and that before the speech starts. Oh no..." Ivar grumbled, pressing his face lightly into Heahmund's upper arm; but even so he knew it was no use. "Uncle Alfy's coming over. Shoot me, please, Heahmund."

Ivar had actually still had the best rapport with Uncle Alfy; but now that he was finally appearing in public with Heahmund for the first time, he wasn't quite so sure it would end well. Uncle Alfy was already rough and rude when it came to normal people, but Ivar had a burning feeling in his throat that the old man wouldn't find his boyfriend all that funny. His fingers clutched tighter at Heahmund, and he smiled at the grumpy old man from a distance, who was slowly rolling toward them.

Hvitserk beside them audibly choked on his own spit as he murmured softly to Ivar, "Do you see a bear on a unicycle, too?"

 

Ubbe & Eggsy

 

"WHAT the hell did you do?" Ubbe murmured darkly as his fingers dug into Eggsy's collar; Eggsy gulped, but he looked at Ubbe openly, albeit with a slight look of panic in his eyes.

Ubbe had pulled him around the corner of the house so the other guests wouldn't see them; it was beautiful weather outside, and yet on a day like this it was supposed to be forbidden. But even when he had gotten up, Ubbe had had the strange feeling in his bones that something was wrong. That no matter how hard they tried, this day would end in disaster. Because that's just the way their family was. They had always been chaotic, and now that Ragnar was no longer there to keep them in check... Ubbe sighed softly, then pressed Eggsy's back harder against the wall of the house. Brown, warm eyes looked at him, and Ubbe fought the inner urge to weaken. Just not here.

"Theoretically, I didn't do anything wrong, you did. Just hypothetically, I mean.", Eggsy stuttered; his lips were slightly parted as Ubbe pressed him harder against the wall.

"What have you done? What's wrong with Hvitserk? Do you think I'm stupid? I could tell in the car when he was talking about imaginary dogs. I know your eyes, Eggsy. So, tell me."

Eggsy exhaled deeply; he turned his gaze briefly to the wonderful garden before meeting Ubbe's bright, blue eyes again. The back of his neck prickled slightly.

"There were no paracetamol in the brown bottle in the hallway. It was a new party drug I mixed together. I couldn't have known you'd give him two of them at once! And anyway, you asked me, and... you don't just take pills like that!" Eggsy complained meekly; Ubbe felt his fingers tighten violently in Eggsy's collar.

"What, you're not serious?!... That means Hvitserk is totally high? Especially today?" he asked, and Eggsy nodded; he flinched slightly as Ubbe released a hand from his collar and balled it up; his left eye tightened in anticipation of a punch, but Ubbe merely boxed his fist into the wall beside him. He exhaled deeply, then looked at Eggsy again.

"Shit... Man, I'd love to punch you in the mouth for that, for real! Do you know what kind of work that's going to be, holding him back? How am I going to explain this to mom? What's going to happen to him?" Ubbe asked darkly; his eyes once again turned to Eggsy, who by now was standing a little looser again and straightening his jacket slightly; he lightly tucked his chin.

"I don't even know myself, I was actually going to throw these in at a party tomorrow. He only has to last 12 hours, roughly, if I've done my math right. Basically, he's just happy and seeing funny colors... and apparently any dogs in the car... barking.", Eggsy said quietly; Ubbe grunted deeply and ran with a slow motion through his hair.

"Heahmund and Ivar know?" he asked, and Eggsy nodded.

"Yeah, since the beginnin'. They're trying to keep him together."

"Oh fuck, this is going to end in a disaster," Ubbe muttered; he could hear more guests entering the house, but he also noticed Eggsy's burning gaze on him. His bright eyes turned back to his future brother-in-law's little brother, his own little brother's best friend.

He looked around when he saw Eggsy's definite look.

"No, Eggsy, not here. You know very well that the risk of getting caught is too high. And despite that, it's Dad's funeral," Ubbe grumbled, trying to suppress the feeling of intense longing as Eggsy's hand closed around his forearm.

"Come on, two minutes. I can make you feel good again! We'll hide in the pantry, nobody goes in there," Eggsy whispered softly, and Ubbe allowed himself to be pulled closer, albeit grumbling.

It had been going on for a while, quite a while, that the two of them met secretly and had something together. It had first happened on one of the evenings he had picked up the unconsciously drunk Ivar and the cheerful Eggsy from a festival; after a very brief discussion of right and wrong, they had fallen over each other so violently that it was still a masturbation fantasy of Ubbe's today. The only problem was that this could never get out. Ivar would never speak a word to either of them again, and Ubbe was sure that Heahmund's fist bump would be legendary and fierce if he found out that Ubbe was fucking his little brother.

But they were also naive about their affair; even now Ubbe looked around slightly before taking Eggsy by the hand and pulling him along to the back entrance of the house.

"I know a perfect place, no one will look for us or find us there. But hurry, the speech is about to start."

 

Bjorn & Athelstan

 

"Can I speak to you just now, please?" the oddly curled man said after Bjorn greeted his brothers with a nod; Bjorn rolled his eyes slightly and looked around, but then nodded. He turned briefly to Torvi, who was standing next to him.

"I'm just going to go talk to this strange guy, maybe he'll go away. You just make sure everything goes according to plan here. And keep Sigurd and Ivar apart, okay? Where did Ubbe go anyway? He was supposed to bring me something," Bjorn muttered, and Torvi shrugged; she affirmed his task, however, before Bjorn took the strange man into one of the back rooms with a stiff nod.

They went into their father's study room; here were bookshelves, his expensive, large desk, and other things he liked; his father had always liked to retreat here. Bjorn breathed heavily; it was almost as if he could still smell his father's heavy aftershave in this room.

"Why don't you sit down? I must say, you astonish me a bit.", Bjorn grumbled; he himself sat down across from the guy, still eyeing him with slightly furrowed brows, before the latter began to speak, smiling slightly.

"I know, and I'm also sorry for just showing up today... But it couldn't be helped. Your father and I were very good friends, if you understand." the man said, smiling; he rummaged around in his strange jacket, pulling out a small stack of photos.

Bjorn raised an eyebrow; what was this becoming? Was this becoming a weird slide show? He had a strange feeling in his stomach as he picked up one of the photos, and sure enough: it was his father, along with this guy.

"I see. But what exactly...", Bjorn started, but the man pushed another photo into his hand.

"Here we are in Venice. We've done a lot of tours. And here, your father dressed up as a Viking, that was a party. He looked great, didn't he?"

Bjorn accepted the other photos as well and looked at them. His father looked happy on them, but Bjorn still didn't realize the meaning behind it. He looked at the photos for a moment, then raised his eyebrows again. His gaze fell on the man who still had a photo in his hand, which he held strangely twisted. Bjorn exhaled deeply, then said, "I don't quite understand what they want. I'm going to leave now, and you're going to stay at the funeral normally, okay? I don't have time for this."

"Wait. I have one more thing...You know, I loved your father," the man said, and Bjorn grunted.

"We all did."

"No, I really did lo... oh, see for yourself."

He thrusted the last photo into Bjorn's hand, and Bjorn's mouth dropped open.

For a moment he just stared at the photo like something that didn't exist; like it simply wasn't there, and yet there it was on his hand, staring back at him, pulling all the ground out from under him. It took him a while to even wake up from his stupor, then he hissed.

"What the fuck...No, that's... no."

"Yes, it is, I'm sorry. Did he ever mention me?"

Bjorn swallowed; he stared at the photo where his father and this strange guy were... and that naked. In a clear pose, and his father was grinning at the camera to boot. For a moment Bjorn didn't believe it was true, but there was no doubt in his mind.

"No, did he... oh my God, does our mother know?" Bjorn said; his shock bored deeper and deeper into his bones, and he had to catch himself for a moment. He had expected many things, after all. But guaranteed not that a curly-haired asshole would show up at the funeral and hold out gay photos of him and his father.

"No, she doesn't know, and she doesn't need to know... And that's my problem, you know? Your father and I, we loved each other, and I feel... so cheap, like a tramp, yes. I want a part of the inheritance, otherwise I'll go around showing everyone the photos."

Bjorn stared at the man.

The brown curls and warm face screamed innocence, but he wore the glint of the devil in his eyes. Against this man, Ivar seemed almost the image of the Christian and holy virgin, and Bjorn had to swallow hard.

"You come into our house, and blackmail me at my father's funeral? Really?" he said, and the man shrugged.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know any other way to help myself. Ten years we knew each other."

"Oh man." Bjorn ran his hand over his forehead and sighed deeply; his head was spinning.

Of course, he would have loved to smash the dwarf's skull in and throw him out on edge. But he couldn't ruin his father's reputation either, certainly not in this way, and certainly not on this important day. His mother would have a heart attack, guaranteed, and his brothers first... Bjorn raised his eyes again and grunted darkly.

"How much." he said bluntly, and the man named Athelstan smiled.

"Oh, ten thousand is enough for me. That would be... reasonable."

Bjorn stared at him for a moment; he had to resist his inner urge to smash one of Dad's bronze sculptures on the guy's head here and now; and as he looked around the room, it suddenly struck him all at once what kind of figures they were; fighting, naked men, young men touching each other. He had never paid attention to these statures, but now it felt like the gayness was surrounding him just with every single inch of this room.

"Oh man, Dad...," Bjorn grumbled softly, then turned his gaze back to the guy.

"Wait here. I'll discuss this with my brothers, and then... we'll see what happens. Will you disappear for good when we pay?"

Athelstan nodded. "I'd be gone, of course. Without a word And I'll wait."

“With these… disgusting pictures.”

Bjorn stood up, after giving the guy another threatening look, and left the room; he left the clear photo in his jacket pocket and walked towards the main room. Everything inside of him was spinning.

 

Heahmund, Ivar & Hvitserk

 

"Where is everybody? Sigurd is just standing in the corner looking like an idiot, and Torvi is just running after our mom...She got fat, didn't she? And where the hell are Ubbe and Eggsy? And where's Bjorn?" Ivar grumbled quietly; he had already taken a seat with Heahmund and Hvitserk on a couple of the many chairs placed in front of the coffin - many people were already seated, but most were still standing around talking quietly. Ivar snorted; he looked at Heahmund, who was smiling at an elderly lady.

"Will you stop flirting with old grannies, you disgusting dream of a son-in-law?" Ivar growled, and Heahmund laughed softly. He let his gaze slide around the room again, but there was no sign of his little brother and Ubbe; and it was beginning to seem strange to him.

"I flirt with whom I please. We're not engaged yet." Heahmund joked, almost regretting having said that; for a deep wrinkle bored into Ivar's forehead, and he looked at Heahmund with narrowed eyes.

"Asshole. Good, then I can flirt with other guys, besides, you're old enough to propose to me!"

"Ivar, please don't bring that up today."

"No."

"Yes!"

"Guys, the coffin is moving." Hvitserk mumbled dryly between them; he had opened his mouth and looked at his younger brother in shock. Ivar frowned and took a quick look at the coffin; but it was still standing there. Quiet.

"Hvitty, it's not moving. Shut up, we'll buy you an ice cream in a minute, too," Ivar muttered; he smiled wanly at Aunt Helga, who was sitting immediately nearby. Sigurd also moved in their direction; he sat down next to Hvitserk, who was still staring at the coffin with wide eyes.

"It moved..." Hvitserk said a little louder, and several people looked over at them. Ivar bit his lip hard and pulled Hvitserk closer; he could see Sigurd's questioning face, but he would not and could not explain it now.

"Hvit, please be quiet now, I'm begging you... People are already looking," Ivar hissed; he had his hand firmly cupped in Hvitserk's forearm, but Hvitserk pushed his hand away easily. He blinked a few times in panic, and then stood up even before Ivar could grab hold of him.

"Guys, don't you see that? THE COFFIN IS MOVING! DAD, are you alive?!" Hvitserk roared, lunging towards the coffin.

Heahmund, Ivar, and Sigurd ran after him, trying to stop him before he could lunge at the wooden coffin; only with their very last strength and effort could they hold the roaring Hvitserk away from the coffin, and yank him away. People were shocked, staring at them as they pulled Hvitserk out into the fresh air with some commotion; Aunt Helga fainted, Ivar saw it clearly before he and Heahmund and Sigurd maneuvered the still wriggling Hvitserk out the door.

"My God, what's the matter, Hvitserk?" Sigurd cried, aghast; the three stared at Hvitserk, and Ivar had to swallow hard.

"He took pills from Eggsy, and they were...not so good. You know he's not usually like that."

"What, it was clear that your family was going to fuck up here again, Heahmund!" Sigurd sighed at Heahmund, and Ivar stood protectively in front of Heahmund.

"He didn't do anything, actually it wasn't anyone's fault, it was an accident!" Ivar said; meanwhile Hvitserk was walking through the garden laughing softly and touching the leaves of the hedge. He could be heard singing softly.

"Oh man, but what kind of pills were those, please? Mom's going to freak out! Just look at him...did he just call the leaves his friends?" Sigurd grunted; the three watched Hvitserk roll up a green leaf and play it like a flute; the three looked at each other for a moment, then Ivar sighed.

"We have to watch him, I mean..."

But he got no further, for suddenly Bjorn came running out of the door; he was breathless and looked terribly pale. His eyes were fixed first on the dancing Hvitserk, then on the three, who were looking at him as bewilderedly as he was at them.

"What's wrong with Hvitty?" Bjorn said breathlessly; the three looked at each other for a moment, then Heahmund said quietly, "Long story, really. Did something happen?"

"Guys, you need to come with me. Real quick. And where's Ubbe? He has to come, too. You won't believe what happened. Remember that weird curly-haired guy who was hanging around the corners like a sex offender?" Bjorn said breathlessly; Sigurd nodded, and Ivar and Heahmund shook their heads.

"He... Oh man, I don't even know how to say this. Find Ubbe, now! Meet me in Dad's study room. Please. It's life and death, so to speak. And... um..." he said, casting an uncertain glance over at Hvitserk, who was apparently on an important phone call with a leaf; the brothers and Heahmund looked at each other, then Bjorn added, "Best we lock Hvitserk in a bathroom or something. You do that, Sigurd. And Heahmund and Ivar, you look for Ubbe, and then quickly to the study room! The speech will have to wait, the priest already knows!"

With these words, Bjorn disappeared into the doorway, and the three looked at each other questioningly.

"Well guys... I don't want to say anything, but the day already started out shitty when they delivered the wrong coffin," Sigurd muttered; he rolled up his sleeves and nodded to the two before turning towards Hvitserk; Ivar bit his lip.

"Well, great. After all, I'll be interested to see what kind of disaster Bjorn has to report. He looked like he'd seen a ghost," he muttered, nodding at Heahmund. "Come on, I think I know where we can find Ubbe. He's probably giving Eggsy an endless lecture about drugs and shit, and I don't want those two fighting to the point of yelling again."

"Sure." Heahmund mumbled, letting Ivar pull him along. He took one last look at Sigurd, who was trying with angelic patience to corral Hvitserk, while the latter was only lightly singing as he jumped away from his brother.

What a strange day. It could hardly get any worse.

[rpd-rookie]

Made in Heaven - Chris Redfield x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Author’s note: This was request by @deshibasarathings​. Sorry it took so long. I really wanted to write something original and that looked different from all the other Chris fanfics I read on this subject. Hope you’ll like it

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Language, Alcohol 

It was summer 1998 and as America was still lovingly dancing on “Truly Madly Deeply” on Friday nights, watching Titanic for the umpteenth time at the nearby movie theatre, wearing tight crop tops, colourful scrunchies and Dr Martens, and occasionally gossiping on the Lewinsky scandal at lunch break, Raccoon City was living its last frivolous moments, and the saddest part was that no one had a clue.

“A fresh beer and a girl. That’s all I’m asking for.” Joseph Frost jumped over the door of the old convertible green mustang with enthusiasm, his usual excited smile stretching his young tanned face. “That’s it, you’re sure?” His dear friend, Forest Speyer, asked with an ounce of sarcasm that he didn’t get.             “Fine. A bunch of fresh beers and a girl.” He winked, clicking his fingers cheekily towards Forest who sighed out of exasperation. “Always so optimistic, I see. When will you finally get that there is no woman for you when you go out with Redfield and me?” He scoffed and Joseph’s smile faded away in an instant to turn into a rather sad pout. “Tell him, Chris.”       “Actually guys, I’m alright with just having beers tonight.” Chris confessed as he put the keys of his car in his pocket. “As if it’s gonna change anything. All the chicks will be crawling at your feet anyway, begging you to notice them and forgetting the existence of our delusional friend over there.” Forest waved towards Joseph who glared at him, slightly vexed. A chance the man was not resentful. “Then I’ll introduce them to Jo.” Chris tapped his friend’s shoulder and Joseph regained his smile. “That’s what I call friendship. Thank you, buddy.”       “You know that abstinence won’t make Y/N give herself to you, right?” Speyer mocked; hoping that teasing Chris a bit would make him follow him on the path of seduction, however degrading he had planned it to be. “Jealousy, however …” He raised his eyebrows and Chris shook his head.   “One-night stands are your thing, Forest. Not mine.”       “Weird cause I can remember a couple times when I saw you discreetly leave the bar with a girl on your arm. But that was certainly before Y/N’s sweet round ass joined the team.” He mimed a squeezing motion with both his hands, his tongue raunchily caressing his lips as he sneered, a gesture that made Chris punch him in the arm in retaliation.

He knew what Forest wanted. His friend’s little game was pretty clear even for someone as blunt as Chris. But he was not in the mood to play tonight. And to be honest, he hadn’t been for the last six months or so, ever since you had entered his life with your wit and charming smile and had brought him back to his old high schooler self, meaning goofy and rather unconfident (minus the acne and the greasy hair obviously). “You don’t get it, do you?”       “No, I don’t. Do you get it, Jo?” Joseph Frost shook his head in a rather silly way, a bit like a contorted puppet. “See. No one gets it.”       Chris sighed. “Come on, man! You’re not a fucking priest! So stop drooling over that chick and stop waiting for her. She clearly doesn’t give a damn about you contrary to other millions of women as gorgeous as her who’ll gladly throw themselves at you in a heartbeat. And I’m pretty sure some of them are in this bar, right now.”      

The worst thing about Forest Speyer – apart from his disgusting machismo and his arrogance - was that he was often right, his insight being most of the time spot-on.     And as the three friends entered the bar, Chris couldn’t help but notice his colleague was once again astoundingly correct since the second he stepped a foot in Jack’s Bar, adjusting his brown leather jacket around his muscular body, a pair of Ray-ban Aviator à la Top Gun hanging from the collar of his military-green V-neck, more than one head turned to goggle at him and only him.             But it wasn’t Chris’ nature to brag or to strut and so he simply approached a clean table with his friends, ignoring the stares, and waved hello at Cindy Lennox behind the counter. She immediately welcomed them with her usual warmth. “Same as usual, boys?”       “Always.” They answered in unison and the waitress chuckled before disappearing to pour them their drinks.     “What about Cindy?” Joseph whispered with a naughty smirk as he bent over the table to make sure his friend would hear him over the sound of the music.   “Damn, you’re horny, Jo!” Chris declared, slightly shocked that his friend would consider getting laid with the woman that had been serving them beers every Saturday night for the last two years. “Of course, I’m horny. I haven’t fucked in weeks guys.”   “Meaning months.” Forest corrected. “Besides, I think Cindy’s got a man.” Joseph cursed, disappointed. “All that is Irons’ fault. Do you know how many extra hours I did because of that bastard?”           “No” Chris and Forest said at the same time with an amused smile.       “Well me neither. But a lot, I’m sure.”

“Aren’t you tired of bitching about Irons, Joseph?” Joseph’s olive face suddenly became very pale as he jumped on his chair. “Y/N! You scared the shit out of me. Thought it was Irons for a sec.” You frowned, not sure how to react to the comparison. “Really? I didn’t know I had a pervy man’s voice.”   “That’s not what I meant.” He mumbled and you chuckled finding certain amusement in his discomfort. “Oh Joseph, always so talented with women, I see.” The men around the table chuckled apart from Joseph who was as red as a tomato now. “Anyway, I was at Jill’s. She told me I could find you guys here.”   “You wanted to see us?” Speyer grinned and winked as he elbowed Chris’ ribs who immediately glared at him. “Jeez, discreet. Thanks.” He murmured and looked at you. Your brows were furrowed because of how strange the situation seemed to you. You had never seen Chris and Forest acting that way. “Are you guys drunk already?”         “If only.” Joseph sighed as he took a mouthful of his beer.           “Don’t mind them, Y/N. That’s just the way they behave outside of work. Lame I know.” You nodded despite being totally unconvinced. Now you understood why Jill was never willing to join their little merry band on Saturday nights. What better way to avoid toxic masculinity than staying home watching a good old movie, dressed in pj’s?          

“And there it goes away again. Y/N enters the room and bye-bye friendship.” You wondered if you should say something about this, genuinely curious to know what Speyer meant, but the second you opened your mouth to ask for an explanation you chose to revise your decision. “I wanted to say goodbye.”       The three pair of eyes widened at you in shock. “Goodbye?” Chris repeated, his incomprehension easily readable in his chocolate brown eyes. “My resignation letter was accepted. Got the news today.”         “Wait. What? What resignation letter?” The questions came as thick and fast as sub-machine gun bullets. You agreed that the news was more than unexpected but the way Chris sounded was more than surprising. It was a if he was distressed. And he was in a way. What do you mean you were leaving? You couldn’t leave. And especially not drop the news at the last minute.   “Yeah. I didn’t tell you guys about it because I wasn’t sure Irons would actually accept it but I’m quitting the S.T.A.R.S. and the RPD.”

There was a heavy silence that even the shitty music in the background couldn’t make less awkward. But that silence was necessary. The boys needed to digest the news. “May we ask why?” Despite not being a close friend, Joseph looked rather confused and even a bit sad. Clearly no one had seen the bomb coming. And who would have? After all, you were such a workaholic; always telling people how much you loved your job. This resignation, that didn’t sound like you.       “Long story. But let’s say I don’t think my place is with you anymore guys.” A lie but you thought it was better to avoid the truth, knowing that your three colleagues would certainly hit the roof – especially Chris - if they happened to learn the real reason behind your resignation. “So, I’m gonna take off now. Enjoy your night and don’t make Jill blow a fuse while I’m gone. And hands off Rebecca!” You pointed a menacing finger at Speyer who immediately laughed. “Can’t promise you that.”

You waved them goodbye with a faint smile and walked away towards the exit of the bar, saddened that this was possibly the last time you would ever see the Three Musketeers (as you liked to call them).         They watched you leave in silence, still not believing the unexpected news. “Can’t believe I’m actually gonna say this but … the office’s gonna look so empty without Y/N” Forest declared.         “Tell me about it.” Chris’ voice was suddenly weary and miserable. To him, you were the sunshine of the office, the star of the S.T.A.R.S, always illuminating people with your good mood and your joie de vivre. Hell, you were probably the only one who could laugh to his dad jokes without pretending.     “Then what are you waiting for then?” Speyer said to Chris. “Go after her.”     “I can’t.” Chris sighed. “And what for?” He took a long mouthful of beer that almost emptied the glass. Perhaps getting drunk would help him digest the fact that you were leaving.         “ So you’re just gonna let her leave without telling her how you feel? I thought you were more courageous than that.” Chris’ stein hit the table with a loud clink.       “And what would it change?” Chris almost shouted. “She’s leaving. She’s made her decision. Telling her how I feel won’t change it.”

And yet he chose to give it a try.

He rushed to his car to drive after you. He rapidly found you, walking up towards the main avenue near the police station certainly to catch a train to go back to your place near St Michael’s Clock Tower. “Y/N” He shouted and you frowned, astonished to see him here. “Chris? What are you doing?”             “ Let me drive you home.” Normally, you would have refused, being the kind of woman that liked to do things by herself. But there was something in the way Chris was looking at you that actually convinced you to get in his car.            

The ride back to your place was rather quiet, the only voice echoing in the Mustang being Freddy Mercury’s singing on the radio. “I always knew you were a Queen fan.” You said to lighten the mood. “Is it written on my forehead?”           “Just on your jacket, Made in Heaven.” You winked and smiled when Chris finally chuckled. “How’s gonna call me that when you’re gone?” Your grin faded away as you wondered almost the same thing. Who will you call ‘Made in Heaven’ after you’re gone? That was a nickname reserved for Chris, one you had found when you were having trouble memorising everyone’s names at the office and that had stayed because of how smiley Chris was each time you were calling him that. “I can ask Forest to call you that if you want. I’m sure he’d love to.”         Chris had a faint smile. “Certainly. But it won’t be the same.”     You could tell he was really affected by your departure and was struggling to say something. But even if you wanted to know what was going on in his head right now, curiosity eating you up, you decided to give him time. Surely was he just trying to gather the courage he needed to talk.

When you both arrived at your place, Chris was still silent and thoughtless. “Do you want to come in?” You thought that a drink might do him some good and help him. He accepted the offer and followed you towards your apartment.

The main room was messy and cluttered with a dozen of boxes already. Most of them were full of old books, VHS and CDs. “I see you’ve started packing.”         “Yes, sorry about the mess. I just want to leave as soon as possible. Beer?” Chris nodded and you disappeared in the kitchen, leaving him alone in your living room. “This doesn’t sound like you.” Chris finally said and you froze, your hand holding the fridge open. You briefly closed your eyes and sighed soundlessly. Of course, he had noticed. “What do you mean?” “Quitting. Leaving. This isn’t you.” You took a deep breath and joined him back in the living room where he was standing straight as a ramrod, a confused frown wrinkling his forehead. “The S.T.A.R.S is your life. You said it yourself. So enough with the ‘my place is not with you’ bullcrap.” He almost sounded angry but you knew all to well that you were not the target of his anger.     “It’s complicated.” You confessed as you handed him the bottle of beer.           “Y/N, I know I’m not the smartest man but I think I can understand the real reason why you want to resign if you just tell me. Aren’t we friends?”           “Of course.” You harrumphed; astonished that he might doubt that.     “Then tell me. Spit it out. What happened? Why are you leaving?”

You looked through the window, scanning at the small buildings surrounding your apartment before finally deciding to draw the thick curtain to hide yourself from whoever might be watching right now. Chris observed you wondering why you were doing this and tried to say something when he saw you heading towards your phone. You gestured him to stay quiet as you unplugged the device. “Alright. You’re starting to scare me. Can you tell me what’s going on?”         “Let’s say I’m in deep shit.” You waved Chris to sit on your couch next to you and he obeyed, staring at you with confusion and worry. “Weeks ago I started secretly investigating on Irons after the secretary he had employed last April weirdly disappeared.”                       “You did what?” Chris harrumphed. “Are you crazy? Do you know how dangerous this is?” You nodded. “He found out.”           “Shit, Y/N” Chris cursed. He was furious. “I had no choice, Chris. Something weird's going on. I can feel it. And I’m sure something happened to his secretary as well.”           “She quitted! Daniels from the reception said he received a letter.” Chris replied.       “Then why is her stuff still at the RPD and why hasn’t her rent been paid since last month?” The man frowned, trying to find a coherent answer. But he found none. “I found her diary when I sneaked in her office. She wrote that Irons used to get off in his office watching a portrait of a hanged naked woman. And did you know that he was accused of rape back when he was in college? This son of a bitch …”         “Alright. Stop, Y/N!” Chris cut you off and took a deep breath to evacuate the panic that was rushing in his veins. “How much in trouble are you?”           You shrugged. “Enough to be the object of intense surveillance.”

Chris hid his face in his big hands. He was scared for you, genuinely terrified even. “What can I do to help?” He asked. “Tell me. I’ll do anything.”             “Chris.” You sighed. “Y/N” He grabbed your hand. “I care about you. More than you imagine. I can’t let anything happen to you.” You had a faint smile. How could a man be so adorable, compassionate and caring? “You’re an amazing man, Made in Heaven. You do know that?” Chris returned your smile. “But I can handle this on my own. Believe me. Just promise me to keep this a secret and act as if you didn’t know anything.             “You can’t ask me to do that, Y/N. You can’t…”

You cut him short by pressing your lips against his, which made Chris almost gasp in astonishment. But the surprise didn’t last and he soon responded to your kiss with an adorable tenderness. “Promise me, Chris.” You whispered still so close to his pink lips as you kept looking at him in the eye, waiting for his answer. “I promise.”       And he kissed you again. It was soft and sweet and tasted a bit like beer but you didn’t mind. In fact, you even allow yourself to touch his chest and bring your body closer to his. The hardness of his muscles against your palms made you shiver and Chris felt it. He smiled and he caught your lips again as he pressed his big hand on your lower back. You cupped his cheek to deepen the kiss and then everything suddenly became more passionate and burning.

Chris’s lips ventured towards your neck to leave a series of hot humid kisses and possibly hickeys that would certainly last a few days. But you would bother about that later. For now, you just wanted to melt under his touch. So, you instinctively tilted your head backwards to give him full access to your soft neck, moaning because of how delicious his mouth felt there.         Your little noise of pleasure instantly awakened something inside Chris, something he felt deep in his guts, deep in his pants. His kisses became hungrier and more needy. He wanted to hear you again.

He laid you down on your back and lay on top of you, his lips still devouring your neck and his now adventurous hands wandered towards your chest. His body felt slightly heavy but you loved this unusual exquisite proximity. “Chris.” You sighed as he suddenly groped your breasts through your shirt. When he tried to unbutton it you put yours hands on his to stop him. “What?” He asked “You don’t want this?”             “Sure I want this. More than anything. But I don’t want you to … I don’t want to hurt you. I’ll still leave tomorrow. You do realise that right?” He stared at you and you could read the sadness slowly growing back in his chocolate brown eyes.                   “It’s goodbye then” You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. It’s goodbye.”     “Then let’s make the most of it.”

To your surprise, Chris’ face met your cleavage rather quickly and he began kissing it as he blindly yet clumsily unbuttoned your shirt. You watched him do for a small moment and when you noticed how aroused he was, you decided to free him from his clothes as well. You  took his letter jacket off and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt to pull it off. And goodness, how dreamy he was. Those muscles. Those arms. Those shoulders. Those pectorals. Those abs … aaaah. It frustrated you as much as it aroused you. How could someone be that perfect? You bit your lower lip and dared caress him and as your hand slid against his warm skin, right between his abs down to the button of his jeans, following the dark hairy line below in navel. “Like what you’re seeing?” He snickered and you smiled, loving his sudden confidence. “Do you?” He grinned and let out a small laugh. “Of course. You’re beautiful” He complimented as he freed your boobs from your bra without taking it off only to take one of your nipples in his mouth. “Holy … ah.” You moaned uproariously as you let your head fall against the armrest of the couch.

You felt Chris smirk against your tender flesh. The bastard knew what he was doing and he was fucking proud of it. You could play that game too. You grabbed him by the belt, pulling him closer to your body for your pelvis to meet his. However, what you didn’t expect was for his prominent bulge to feel so hard and huge against you even through the fabric. Chris was certainly quite a big boy.     Slowly, you unbuttoned his jeans and lowered them all along with his briefs. His cock sprang free, confirming your previous hypothesis about it. It was indeed big, bigger than anything you ever had, and hard and long and… You slightly squeezed your thighs and rubbed them. You were wet. You could feel it. And you wanted desperately some friction.             You quickly glanced at your womanhood and let your fingers crawl under your skirt and soaked panties. Your clit was engorged and your lips were swollen. And Chris was watching you silently, wondering how the wet pink flesh felt. “Wait. Let me” He lifted up your ass and pulled down your panties to carelessly throw onto the floor. Your legs spread, he looked down between them, staring at your glistening fold with a dark hunger in his eyes. He caressed you softly, very softly and you moaned between your closed lips as you instinctively embraced his delicate touch by moving your hips closer to his hand. You wanted more. And he would give you more.     

His fingers parted your lips to meet your clit with his thumb and he brushed your warm entrance to finally insert a finger inside you. You whispered his name with pleasure and it jolted Chris as if he had received a punch in his lower stomach, but a delicious exhilarating punch. He started pumping his finger in your pussy, forcing a cry of pleasure out of your mouth, and soon he added another digit to go and tickle your g-spot that he found with incredible accuracy. When you started convulsing and felt your orgasm building in you, you pushed Chris’ fingers away to pull his body against yours.

Laid on you, Chris instinctively began to rubbing him against your, his cock grinding between your legs, so close to your entrance. You grabbed his back and dug your nails in it. The friction was sending you slowly back towards heaven. “Oh my god, Chris.”     His pace accelerated until it began relentless and soon, he started panting rather heavily. “Fuck.” He cursed as he quickly lined up his cock in front of your hole to enter your pussy, unable to resist the urge of filling you up anymore. He didn’t sink in you as easily as expected and so he grabbed the armrest of the couch to use it as leverage and push himself deep in you. That thrust made you draw a sharp breath and a whimper of both pain and pleasure escaped your sealed mouth. That girth, holy shit! “Damn, you’re so tight.”  He started moving in you. He was slow but intense but little did you know that he was just warming up. “Fuck, Chris!”

You screamed when his cock started rubbing against a zone inside of you you never thought existed. You clang to the sofa afraid to fall under the strength of his deep hard thrust. You were loud and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d ever been that loud. Your previous boyfriend would have asked you to be quiet and think about the neighbour but Chris, Chris seemed to like your screams. It was all over his smiling face.

He suddenly grabbed both your legs and placed your feet on his shoulders. A position that allowed his long shaft to go even deeper in you, which you never thought was possible. And judging by how red and twisted his young features looked right now, he was definitely enjoying the position. Actually, he loved it so much he quickened the pace and started growling. You marvelled at his sweaty strong body and at his face tensed by intense pleasure “Gosh, Y/N. You’re driving me crazy.” You smiled.

You could watch him fuck you like that for ages. It was a real boost for your self-confidence. And God knows what you were capable when you felt confident.             You spread your thighs and wrapped your legs around Chris to hoist yourself against his chest, his cock miraculously still inside of you. Guess having such a size had many perks. You wanted to ride him and he immediately got your intention. Hands squeezing your rear, he leant against the backrest of the couch and chuckled as you comfortably placed yourself on top of him and started undulating on his lap, his cock amazingly buried in you. “Gosh you have no idea how beautiful you are.” You blushed and he tucked a strand of your hair behind you ear. Your eyes met and you stared at each other quietly before you eventually felt the need to grind against him. The depth of his thick dick inside of you was sending shivers in your entire body. That was incredible. You kept a pace that pleased you both. “You’re so good.” He confessed as he took a deep breath. “Are you gonna come for me, Made in Heaven?” You teased.      “That’s very likely.” He chortled, amused by the nickname.         Your hands leant on his muscular thighs, right behind your back, and you began bouncing on his cock with an incredible agility and eagerness that left Chris amazed. And you could tell by the way he was panting that he wouldn’t last long. Not a surprise. This love-making was certainly the most exquisite you had ever had. His throbbing cock hitting you deep inside was amazing, just as the melody of sweaty skins meeting each other accompanied by the wet sound of your cunt and the creaking of the couch under both your weights.         

Chris placed his hands on your bouncing breasts to grope them. “If you keep going like that I’m gonna cum in you.” He declared between two groans. “Please do”. He made you lean forward and brought your breasts to his mouth to lick them and suck the nipples. “I want you to” You gripped his hair without even realising it. It was a reflex, a way to have him … feel him closer to you, to tell him not to stop. “I want your cum in me, Chris.”

That was too sexy and naughty for Chris who let out a frustrated animalistic growl as he squeezed you butt, digging his nails in the tender flesh. He began pounding you from underneath, hard, fast and deep like a jackhammer, his balls slapping against your butt. You cried out. The sensation was divine and took all your words away. Now only plaintive onomatopoeias seemed to be able escape your agape mouth. Well, onomatopoeias and some very casual “Fuck, Chris” that would make your lover chuckle or smirk proudly.

And that’s how you felt it coming. That so well-deserved orgasm, ready to burst like a firework.  It made you cry out and nestle your head in Chris’s neck, your body convulsing like never before. But Chris wanted to see you. He wanted to see your face as you were cumming for him. He wanted to carve that moment to play it over and over after you were gone. And so he pulled up your hair to make you look at him. But you couldn’t. Your eyes were tightly closed and refused to open. And then, it all came out. And you screamed his name, on and on, loud, so loud you were sure the neighbours would probably shout at you tomorrow but you did not care. You let your juices flow along his cock and your wall clench around him.   “Damn. Fuuucck.” He growled and his moves became very sloppy yet more brutal and deeper. “Don’t you squeeze around me like that” But you couldn’t help it. That climax felt too good. Chris felt too good.

It sent him over the edge. He came hard in you, hot and sticky semen spurting in your vagina, painting your walls like nothing else. And you loved it, enjoying it the warm sensation with an amazed amused little laugh that made Chris chuckle despite his tiredness. “What’s so funny?” He asked.           “Nothing. Just telling myself that this... was made in heaven” You winked and he laughed. You were gonna miss him.

[gra-sonas]

In-depth interview with L’Odet

Michael is an actor based in Los Angeles. He's known for his work on The CW's "Roswell, New Mexico." The second season of Roswell dropped on Netflix this week. Photos by Davy Kesey for his Reflections series, a photographic pursuit of vulnerable, multifaceted, and deeply personal portraits.

CARIANN BRADLEY: What did your day to day look like filming the second season of "Roswell, New Mexico?" I know in our first chat together several months ago, you told me you tapped into your friend passing away this time last year. Can you explain to me your process?

MICHAEL VLAMIS: Season two of "Roswell" — it was crazy because so many things happened to me personally going into the season. A buddy of mine passed away; I recovered his body in the middle of an ocean after a freak boating accident . Friends and I were out in Panama, Central America, for a bachelor party and it went from the greatest time ever to one of the most wild experiences of my life. The kid that we lost was one of my childhood best friends.

That happened in May. Shortly after that, I tore my meniscus in my right knee, which is the third time I’ve done that, so I underwent surgery at the end of July. Once that surgery happened, I had to report to the set of "Roswell" about three days later. I couldn’t drive, so one of my roommates actually drove me out to Santa Fe — my roommate Roarke Anderson who I have lived with since college, we played baseball together at Chapman. And then I get out to the shoot and everybody is so worried about me because of my knee surgery. I’m limping and it’s hard for me to be standing on set or doing any physical contact and everybody is babying me so hard! I’m really bad at taking help. The "Roswell" cast and crew were so supportive, so helpful — they got me my own custom chair that I could sit in so my knee would heal quicker.

They were doing all of these things, going out of their way, and I don’t know if it’s a thing that I have — pride or ego or my stubbornness — but taking help from people, even when I need it, is tough for me. I was taking all of this help and then three weeks into shooting, the doctor said, “You can drive, but you don’t want to be hitting the break too hard; take care of your knee.” And on my way to set one morning, a priest turned right in front of me at a green light and I smoked this guy in my car; I totaled my car. He got knocked unconscious, but luckily he was okay, everything worked out — he was healthy, he got taken away from the scene but was able to walk away from the hospital and was doing fine. Right at that time, I was really just feeling the death of my friend, the knee surgery, the car accident — meanwhile, Max, my brother in the show, played by Nathan Parsons of course, is dead in the series.

So, while all of this is going on, I keep channeling my buddy and that horrific incident because it felt like if anything was gonna come out of that — he was a big supporter of my career, always telling people I was acting — I felt like I could do justice to my friend’s death, I could make a positive out of such a negative, and that’s what I did. I really tried to channel him and look to him between scenes and bring that for the loss of my brother in the show.

And, to be honest, I felt like I went too deep into that and it really caught up to me. A month and a half into shooting I just snapped one day. I remember the hair stylist on set all of the sudden told me that The CW thought the right side of my hair wasn’t as curly as it normally is, so they started curling my curls on set and, it’s so funny that that ended up being the last straw. Curling my curls made me feel like a helpless individual who just needed to be so pampered and taken care of and watched after and looked upon — and I didn’t feel like my own person. I ended up saying a dick comment to our hair stylist, who I love and really respect and appreciate, but in that moment I snapped and I got all teary-eyed and she was like, “Dude, what’s going on?” And I gave her a big hug and I’m like, “I’m sorry, this isn’t about you at all,” and I went to my trailer and I wrote a poem and I kind of got out everything I was feeling. From that moment on, which was about six weeks into shooting, I felt better. I had a little bit of a relief. And then, luckily, Max comes back to life halfway through season two and my big episode, episode five, when I channeled my buddy the most was a very tough experience. But once that was over I was able to let the passing of my friend go for a while and everything normalized, but that was everything just on set! You just get so focused on doing your best work that you kind of drive yourself insane.

C: Even just from talking to you the first time we chatted for l’Odet, you just seem like the most productive person ever. How do you take care of yourself? Especially when you’re exerting that much of yourself creatively. Do you do therapy or do you just depend on your support system?

M: I think that changes. At one point in my life it was meditation. I actually meditated for the first time this morning since February because I’ve been feeling so strange lately in the pandemic, right? It’s been ups and downs and I was feeling like I needed a little bit more calmness in my life. I know that I’m a person that really likes control and I like things the way they are and me having a grasp on things — it’s little things. I have a driveway that we park all five of the cars of the house and the cars are parked just back to back to back, so if you’re the first one in, you have to go to your roommates and say, “Hey guys, I have to do a car shuffle, I have to leave,” and it can be an inconvenience for people to go move their cars for you to get out. When I’m meditating and my mind is very relaxed, that doesn't bother me, but I’ve been noticing lately that I don’t want to park in the driveway because I’m gonna get stuck, but at a time like this? When I don’t have to go anywhere, I don’t have to be anywhere, why am I thinking about being stuck? What is going on right there? Why do I need this control again? This feeling of absolute freedom whenever I want when I can achieve that freedom mentally with my car being in the driveway. Little things like that make me realize that I need to get back to centering myself, so I’m going to start meditating again every day, because you asked what I do for my mental health — to be completely honest, I don’t really take care of myself that much!

I’m just kind of a go, go, go person and I like pushing myself. I look at life like a big video game; the more levels I can beat, the more fun it is, but eventually, you get tired of the game and you have to step back so I’m going to try to be putting meditation back into my life. Aside from that, I’ve been reading way more during the pandemic. I’ve read three books, "The Little Prince" is one of them; it’s a children’s book, but you can call it that! I read a book! I’ve read like three books which is more than I’ve read all through "Roswell" because I was just so occupied with writing, so that’s been helping me take a step back and unwind. Aside from that, I need pointers! I need to figure out what taking care of myself actually looks like, because it is peaks and valleys when it comes to my mental health.

C: It seems like you're always working, even when you're not shooting. You're a bit addicted to work, maybe?

M: I think so. I think I’m addicted to accomplishing things that I don’t even think I should be able to accomplish. The people that fascinate me are the Donald Glovers of the world. The guys, and women, who you hear they did something and you’re like, “How?!” How did they make a hit album, a hit TV show, act in all these movies, write for a TV show — all these things that just don’t seem feasible, but he accomplished them! I want that. I like that. I like being the person who is always pushing to just be outside of their comfort zones and accomplish something that was a dream at one point in your life that could turn into reality. I’m really fascinated by that whole process or turning dreams into reality.

C: I think people our age can get really discouraged if one thing doesn’t work out and for a person to be able to keep going, for it to only motivate them more — I think that’s probably a superpower.

M: Superpower or just a big ego! It’s one of the two. Ego is something that I’ve thought about heavily. I’ve blown relationships in the past because of ego, I think my acting work five years ago wasn’t good because of ego. Then you get stripped down, you get beaten down by life, and you get a little more comfortable with the uncomfortable and I think that’s where the best work comes from. For me, yeah, I think I just really like pushing myself. I do see life like this video game, so if one door closes, you don’t put the game down, you don’t all of a sudden stop playing, no, you keep playing in order to beat it! And sometimes that might mean buying the cheat code book or asking a friend how to beat this level or whatever it is, but those little things to figure out how to get past what you’re stuck with — I love those moments. I love getting through something that doesn’t seem like something I can accomplish.

C: Yeah, and something I wrote down, actually, was that from watching "Roswell" season two, I feel like your character is very jaded and he almost needs stuff proven to him to believe that good things can happen. Which makes sense because of all the shit he’s been through and all the trauma that he’s experienced in his life, but were you ever like that personally? Even after this really traumatic experience happened with your friend, are you more jaded because of all these things that have happened in the last year?

M: You know what? No, I’m not. Maybe I should be but, no. I have a tough time living life without leaving my heart on my sleeve and being vulnerable. I think the beauty is in vulnerability, and I admit that I’m not always good at that. I’m actually realizing I’m really bad at that when it comes to relationships with a woman that I may love. It can be very hard for me to say exactly what I want or what I’m feeling. I don’t know why that is exactly, but when it comes to anything else in life, I can say anything I want, anything I’m feeling — I could spill my guts to the cashier at a gas station and I can be okay with that and who I am. So, no, not jaded. The experience that I had with my friend passing, that has just made me more aware, right? Just knowing that accidents like that, freak accidents, like what happened to him on a boat in the middle of Central America at a time where you didn’t think you had a care in the world — that can be flipped on its head in a second. So, just kind of knowing that and that might mean me looking across the street, left and right an extra time, but just kind of learning from every experience but still moving ahead as if I’m just this kid in this world for the first time, soaking everything in. And if I get hurt, that’s just a part of the process. Me being a masochist for my art, because the more I get hurt in real life, the better my art is. It’s kind of a weird balance. If I wasn’t an actor, maybe I wouldn’t feel that way, but I’ve always been this way even before I started acting in my senior year of college. So, that’s tough. I don’t think I’ve been like Michael Guerin, though, where I’m just reaching for answers all the time. I, in the past, prove to myself that I’m a good person or I’m wanted or that I actually can find success in the things I love. It’s just put the hard hat on and go to work and keep plugging away.

C: Interesting. I think that you have really done a good job of truly just drawing on those experiences then, because you really portray that through Guerin really well. I mean, he’s just so different than you which, I mean, is how acting is supposed to be, I guess, right? [Laughs] I guess I don’t know too much about acting.

M: No, definitely! And maybe we even talked about this in the last interview, but I was always so surprised that Carina MacKenzie, our showrunner, said that, as an actor, I am the most different in real life than I am as my character. It kind of blew my mind! I feel like I am Michael Guerin! I feel like everything Michael Guerin does is exactly how Michael Vlamis would react in a situation, but the difference is, when it comes to acting, the truth I’m bringing is under the circumstances of Michael Guerin. So, what he’s going through is exactly how I would react in those situations, but I’m just not in those situations because that’s not how I think or operate in my life! But if I was to do that, then that is what you would get. So, it doesn’t feel that far off for me because I have all those things in me, that is who I am, a lot of those feelings of anger or jealousy or the feeling of not being loved or proving yourself, being wanted. I have all that stuff, it’s just not coming out on a daily basis because, in life, I like to keep things light for the most part — I like to make jokes all the time, but, deep down, I’m a very serious person who's had to work on anger issues in the past and had to really find balance in how I react to certain situations. The beautiful thing about Guerin is that I can just be the worst parts of me. I can put that on screen because that’s interesting to watch, you know?

C: I’m interested to see you in other stuff. I’m interested to see if your biopic gets made and stuff too, I haven’t seen you in anything else. Or write anything, you know?

M: Well, a lot of people haven’t, which is so funny to me, because I have been doing self-tape auditions right now for movies that are trying to be cast and no idea when production is going to happen, but people are trying to do virtual auditions, trying to fill their cast so that they can go shoot once this pandemic is over. A lot of things I’m auditioning for are comedies, but people are like, “Can he do comedy?” Which is so funny! Comedy is my bread and butter. Comedy is probably what I do better than anything, but people don’t know me as that! They knew me as that initially and that’s why I couldn't even get an audition on "Roswell," because I was the comedy guy, and now I’m, like, the dramatic guy. [Laughs] You always have to prove to people and make them see that you can't be put in a box. It will be very cool for the world to see me acting in other projects and, actually, my first feature film that I produced and starred in called “Five Years Apart” just picked up a distribution deal through an amazing distributor and in the states. We’ve got sales happening in foreign markets right now; we’ve locked up like three territories out of seventeen worldwide and this movie is very special to me. It’s an indie dramatic comedy, pretty much about two estranged brothers coming together over a wild weekend and a very specific incidence happens that forces them together and it’s very funny. It’s a really fun movie. It was a thirteen-day shoot in LA.

C: Wow! That’s not long at all!

M: No, no! It was very quick. We didn’t have a lot of money, you know? A lot of people said that we couldn’t make the movie for double of what we ended up making it for. Everybody who said that to us, these were line producers who have done big, successful movies, and were just doing us a favor with budgeting, and it comes down to that video game mentality again. Oh, you think I can’t make for this much? Okay, watch me make it for half of that and still do a good job! I don’t know, that might be the whole pride aspect — stubbornness, ego or whatever, but I’m very proud of this movie. We won best ensemble cast at the LA Indie Film Fest last year where it premiered and then we recently picked up distribution. Once this pandemic is over that movie should hit screens, hopefully a few theaters, and then some of the streaming platforms. People will see me in a totally different role than Michael Guerin.

C: I can’t wait to see it, that sounds awesome.

M: And then, for the writing, the Mac Miller biopic was the first dramatic screenplay I wrote. It’s funny that the drama that I write gets my writing partner and I all the meetings. We’ve met with some major companies since that script made The Black List, but all the other projects we have are all big studio comedies. We’re even about to finish, here in the pandemic, writing my next movie. We’re about 75% done with that and we’ll have a mob action comedy done within the next few weeks.

C: Oh my god! You’re so productive; it’s insane. It’s so amazing.

M: I just go, go, go, you know? I don’t know if it’s very healthy but it excites me. I live for the excitement. I live for the thrill. I live for the unknown. I was talking to my mom the other day and, I didn’t even know this story, but I guess when we were kids, my sisters and I — if I wanted something, my mom, even before I could really speak, was talking to me, asking questions. She was trying to get me to figure out what I wanted or how to get through a certain situation. If I had a problem with homework and I took it to her, she wouldn’t just do it for me or even just teach me how to do it, she would really push me to figure out how to do it myself. So, I think this feeling that I have really stems from those early days of always having to figure things out on my own. Of course, she would help me if I really, really needed it, but she always made me figure stuff out on my own and I take a lot of pride in that. I like doing that. I don’t know, maybe that’s where the productivity comes or maybe it comes from just not feeling like I’m ever really enough. I don’t actually know, but I know I’ve felt that in certain parts of my life, but I think I’m over that. Yet, the productivity remains.

C: And you can be proud when you make things because you’re actually doing the shit yourself. You’re actually self-made. You didn’t get this stuff handed to you.

M: Yeah, and also, don’t get me wrong, all the work that I do — these are my hobbies. What I do for a living are my hobbies, so I don’t think of it as productivity. I think of it as, this is what I need to do every single day. If I’m not doing something, I feel useless. I’ve had those bouts, and I don’t know if that’s healthy or maybe that is just me. Maybe I am just a born storyteller, that’s what I like to do. I like to sit around with friends, tell stories, hear their stories, figure out the little details that made that story so interesting, and then move on to the next story.

C: I mean, I don’t think it’s necessarily wrong or bad to have a lifeline, especially in a time like that. It’s necessary; it’s what keeps us going.

M: Exactly. At the beginning of this quarantine, we were not writing, we were just figuring out our lives — what are these next few months going to look like? I was depressed. Then we started diving into this script every day and, all of a sudden, I have this purpose again. That keeps me going. That’s definitely helpful for my mental health.

C: I feel similarly about projects. I think I do tie a lot of my self-worth into success or self-defined success which isn’t always great, but it keeps me hustling. I’m never just sitting around like, “Oh, what am I gonna do?” I’m doing the shit that’s in my head and I want to make it happen.

M: There’s something very fulfilling about that.

C: I don’t have sympathy for people who just sit around and don’t know how to start living your life.

M: I know! I used to be that way even more but over the years I’ve realized that people didn’t have parents like I had. My dad was very tough on me, but always pushed me to be the best version of myself — both my parents did. Were my dad’s ways the best ways to do it? I don’t know. If you tell a lot of people how my dad was, they might think there’s some problems there, but guess what? It worked for me. I think about it as these other people who maybe aren’t feeling the same way as I am about productivity, whatever it may be, maybe they didn’t have the drive instilled in them from their parents. Immediately they’re at a disadvantage. It’s hard to judge somebody without knowing exactly how they were raised because I’m really realizing as I get older that that has defined who I am so much.

C: That’s true.

M: I don’t know. I mean, I’m 30 years old now. I turned 30 during the quarantine. I’ve experienced loss in a different way. Swimming up to a body floating in the ocean that you think you’re going to turn over and it’s going to be your buddy just making a goof! Just messing around. Pretending he’s floating in the water and then you turn him around and you realize this is way more serious that I thought it ever could’ve been. Living through a moment like that just makes you feel more and more. A lot of people take a step out of their body and they stop feeling because they don’t want to be heartbroken again or hurt. I’m a little bit the other way.

I kind of step up a little more. I think that getting so deep into that story — it’s a weird story to tell, but when my buddy died in Panama, I was the one that found him. I was an all-state swimmer as a kid in elementary school! Like, fifty-yard freestyle! I was very fast. So I’m thinking to myself, okay, he’s in the water, I’m probably the most capable of saving him, should something actually be wrong. I dove overboard into the ocean and swam as fast as I could into a pool of blood. I found my buddy and it was not a pretty sight. We got his body back onto the boat, got him to the hospital on the island, which looked like a rundown motel in East Hollywood, and he didn't have a chance. And then it’s this group of ten guys, some of us have been best friends forever, some of us just meeting for the first time because, maybe, college friends are involved and invited instead of just the high school buddies that grew up together. How these ten guys banned together and were there for each other to contact the family back in the states, let them know what happened, and go to the U.S. Embassy in Panama, talk to the authorities, the police, the doctors, and really step up. It’s just been an amazing, horrible experience — something I wish on nobody.

But it opened me up a lot and surprised me, especially with my buddies from the Southside of Chicago who I would never, ever in a million years thought would go to therapy. Those are the guys that make fun of therapy, right? Even I did at one point growing up. I thought, therapy? Who needs therapy? And then you go and you realize it’s a really healthy thing! I was really ignorant for thinking anything less than how important it is. But those guys are in therapy now and it’s helping them and I thought that that was such a cool thing to come from that experience. These masculine men who have kind of realized that it’s okay to actually be in touch with yourself.

C: Michael, I’m so sorry that that happened to you and it’s a tragedy that no one should have to experience, but I just want to say thanks for being open about it and being willing to talk with me about it. What you’ve learned from it and how you’ve turned it around and used it in your life and in your art is really beautiful.

M: Thank you. I know my buddy would be very proud, if he’s watching or listening, knowing that I try to make the most out of a horrible situation. That was a lot of what was on my mind during the photoshoot for this and the year anniversary just came up. Sometimes I tell that story and laugh. Such a horrific story but I’m laughing because it doesn’t even seem real! Then I go on a socially distant photoshoot on a trail in the middle of nowhere with Davy; when he asked me about it, it caused me to kind of dive into myself and how I’m feeling. I think a lot of those feelings about my buddy…they didn’t go anywhere, you know? No matter how much I mask them, they didn’t go anywhere. I think a lot of that came in the photos that he took. [Davy] definitely has a special touch for getting the truth out of people.

C: I’m honored that you talked to me about it and that I’m gonna get to show these photos on my website. I’m really thankful and I appreciate you.

M: I appreciate you! I love your interviews, they’re always my favorite. The most raw, organic conversations we can have are what I like and that’s what you do. I appreciate that.

C: Thank you for saying that.

M: Of course.

C: Is there anything else that you wanted to talk about while I have you?

M: I think I should thank anyone who’s reading this that has purchased merch from our second season merch line which just wrapped up a couple weeks ago — thank you so much. We beat our numbers from last year. I thought people maybe had enough merch out of me for once, but we crushed our numbers from last year in just a two week span!

C: That’s amazing.

M: It is so amazing! It’s so cool. I think it’s a big testament to my business partner Jesa Joy, who prints all of my merch and softens every single piece so it feels vintage, one of a kind. People got that merch and it could easily be a gimmicky thing, but instead, we’re really making quality clothes starting with Jesa Joy and that’s keeping people coming back. Hopefully, with how open I am on social media, I think that’s resonating with the fans and they appreciate that so the more I give, the more they give. It’s just this beautiful thing that’s setting me up to potentially have my own fashion line one day, maybe take it from merch to fashion, and that’s a goal of mine for many years down the road. The fact that all of my fans are so supportive and just totally understand my humor and what I’m doing means the world to me. It’s just a really cool thing to see and find success in. Otherwise, I pitched for that TV show, one of my childhood idols, one of the biggest comedic actors of all time, and we’re trying to get him attached to my show. He might say no and that’s totally okay because we got him laughing! He was laughing throughout our pitch yesterday and it felt so special. So, maybe, if we did this interview in a week, I’d have amazing news or maybe I would be bummed out because the guy doesn’t get attached to the show. Either way, it’s been experiences like that, little moments where you’re down, you’re out, you’re feeling depressed, and then you’re making a childhood hero of yours laugh over a zoom pitch. Moments like that have really helped me through quarantine — finding those small, little wins every now and then.

C: The wins are important.

M: And the win isn’t that you win! It’s not the outcome, it’s the process which I always thought was such bullshit. “Trust the process,” and I didn’t want to trust the process! I wanted to make the process! That’s not possible, you know? It’s only possible to a certain extent, you really have to let things play out as they want to and I’m finding the wins in letting things play out the way the universe wants them to.

[disneymiraculousefandomsblog]

Hey guys! So I wanted to write a new dream Fic since I never really have written one yet so this is my first. I really wanted to write one because I wanted to include the characters for the series since we didn’t actually get to see them in the short and since we didn’t really get a scene where cass apologized to Varian I decided to include it so here it is. I also want to thank @lanceloth for helping me with some ideas I added to my story I hope you like it and let me know what you think?

Rapunzels Wedding

Rapunzel’s Long awaited day had finally arrived she was finally going to get married. Rapunzel was so exited she honestly thought she never would have even gotten this far when she lived in the Tower. She always thought that she would have been stuck in that tower forever and never get to have a adventure. But all that changed when she met Eugene and fell in love with him.

“Hello your highness, I see your already up, are you exited for the big day?” Faith asked Rapunzel.

“Hey Faith, yes I am REALLY EXITED!, Eugene and I have been together for a while now and we have had so many adventures together we even defeating Zhan Tiri together with the help of our friends of course, but now I am ready to be queen and rule this kingdom when the time comes.” Rapunzel replied.

Faith smiled, “I’m glad Princess you’ll make a great queen”. Faith stated.

Rapunzel smiled, Faith was very shy and she didn’t like to talk much not like cass did. Faith finished getting Rapunzel ready for the wedding when an unexpected friend showed up. Cassandra opens the door and walks in.

“Hey Raps!” Cassandra said. Rapunzel turned around and a huge smile came on her face.

“Cass!” Rapunzel shouted running to give Cassandra a hug. “What are you doing here?, I thought you were on an adventure and you couldn’t come” Rapunzel said hugging her tighter.

Cassandra smiled and returned the hug, “come on you didn’t think I’d miss your wedding day, Eugene and I do have our differences but I still wouldn’t miss your special day” Cassandra smiled pulling away from the hug.

Rapunzel smiled, “Do you want to help me finish getting ready like old times?” Rapunzel Asked Cassandra.

“Sure why not” Cassandra said with a smile. Faith left and while Cassandra was getting Rapunzel ready Eugene was in his room getting ready for the wedding.

“Lance I can’t believe it, After asking and asking Rapunzel finally said yes, i can’t wait to live the rest of my life with her” Eugene stated to Lance who was helping him put his suit on.

“I know who knew a lucky guy like you could have gotten a girl as pretty and Royal as Rapunzel, I mean you were an orphan, and most of your life you were a thief stealing and your big dream was to live on an island all alone with money” Lance said.

Eugene looked at Lance with a I can’t believe you just went there look, “Ok you are right I honestly didn’t think I ever settle down with someone, but I didn’t know I was a prince either” Eugene stated.

“Yeah look what you did to stalyan, you left her at the alter and you know what happened” Lance said remembering that day they kidnapped them and he almost died. Eugene remembered that day too it was probably the hardest thing he ever had to do to Rapunzel. He could just remember the face she made when he closed the door on Rapunzel, he didn’t do it intentionally but he had no choice to save Lance.

Lance looked at Eugene, “Hey, don’t be getting emotional on me” Lance said.

“That was all in the past buddy, today is the day you have been waiting for all your life, you deserve to be happy Eugene” Lance said putting his hand on Eugenes shoulder.

Eugene smiled, “Thanks Lance, I know we don’t really talk about our emotions but your the best friend I could ask for thanks buddy “ Eugene told Lance with a smile.

“Alright, let’s finish getting you ready” Lance said with a smile while fixing Eugenes Jacket.

Meanwhile back in Rapunzel’s room, Cassandra finished fixing Rapunzel’s dress, “Wow Raps, you look beautiful!” Cassandra told Rapunzel.

“Aww thanks Cass” Rapunzel answered with a smile.

Cassandra put the vail on Rapunzel’s hair and she was finished. Rapunzel turned to look into the mirror and see herself. “Wow, Thank you Cass for helping me and coming all this way to see me get married” Rapunzel said giving Cass a hug. Cassandra smiled and returned the hug.

“Cass can you do me a favor? Can you go find Varian and ask him if he’s ready he is done helping Max and Pascal they are going to hand us the rings.” Rapunzel asked Cass.

“Sure Raps, I’ll be back before the wedding starts” Cassandra answered heading to the door to leave.

Varian was in his lab getting ready for the wedding since Eugene has asked him and Lance to be his best man, Varian felt honored he never got invited to a wedding before and he certainly never thought he be someone’s best man but he was happy that his two best friends were finally getting married after everything that happened they deserved to be happy.

Varian heard a knock at the door, “I’m coming” he shouted. Varian opened the door and to his surprise it was Cassandra, he wasn’t expecting to see her at the wedding since she was on her adventure.

“Oh Hey Cass, what a surprise I thought you couldn’t make it to the wedding?” Varian asked sheepishly.

“Hey Varian, uhh Raps wanted me to ask you if you were done getting ready and if you finished helping Max and Pascal with the rings?” Cass asked trying to not make eye contact. Varian gave a small smile,

“Oh.. yeah they are ready their just waiting for me to finish getting ready.” Varian said sheepishly. There was an awkward silence for awhile, Cassandra felt uneasy with Varian because of what she did to him when she was bad, she didn’t know if varian actually forgave her for what she put him through kidnapping, Drugged him, pushing him off a cliff, but most of all controlling his dad, he had already suffered with him loosing his dad and she just had made it worst for him.

Varian felt a bit odd being around Cassandra he was still trying to get over what she did to him. she never really apologized to him for what she did and what she caused him to go through she just got up and left. No Jail time or community service, it just didn’t seem fair that he was tossed in Jail for his crime and Cass wasn’t. Varian liked Cass and he knew she changed for the better now but he still had some kind of resentment towards her.

Cassandra saw Varian and she knew what she did to him was wrong and that she needed to make amends because Varian at once did think of her as his friend.

“Varian, I’m really sorry for everything I did and put you through, I know I never really fully apologized to you and it wasn’t right and I don’t know what I can do to make it up to you?, I’m really sorry Varian for everything” Cassandra said with her head down and a sad tone in her voice.

Varian didn’t know what to say, he knew Cass wasn’t a person who liked to share or show her feelings, but he understood what she went through because he went down that path of darkness too and if Rapunzel was able to forgive him and trust him again and give him a second chance after everything he did he should do the same.

“Cass, it did hurt me what you did to Corona and to me, and I tried reaching out to you but you refused to Listen..but I understand because I went down that path of darkness myself and it blinds you and makes you into a monster...but just as Rapunzel forgave me and gave me a second chance then I should do the same.” Varian said with a half smile.

“Cass I forgive you, I forgive you for everything and I hope we can learn to trust each other and be friends again”Varian told her giving her a smile. Cassandra looked at Varian and gave him a smile.

“Th...Thank you Varian, I promise I am going to try my best do whatever i can to make it up to you” Cassandra said putting her hand on his shoulder. Varian gazed at Cassandra and gave her a smile.

“Thank you Cass, It’s great to have you back” Varian said giving her a hug. Cassandra smiled and Returned the hug.

Varian pulled away from the hug, “well I have to finish getting ready I’ll see you at the wedding?” Varian asked Cassandra.

“Yea I’ll see you at the wedding” Cassandra answered.

Varian waved goodbye to Cassandra and finished getting himself ready. The wedding was about to begin all the guest were arriving and getting to their seats Eugene was already at the alter with Lance and Varian beside him waiting for Rapunzel to walk down the isle. The doors opened and the wedding march started playing the king was walking Rapunzel down the isle Eugene couldn’t take his eyes of his Fiancé she was beautiful she was wearing a beautiful white dress with a long lace design vail. He still couldn’t believe that the day he had been waiting for finally arrived after asking and asking Rapunzel finally said yes.

King Fredric kissed his daughter on the cheek and handed her over to Eugene. The priest started saying

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company of witnesses to join together this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony”. Max and pascal were waiting close to the bride and groom to hand them the rings when they asked for them. But a flower flew into Max nose and he could stop himself from sneezing.

The sneezed made the pillow go up and down tossing the rings up and rolling them outside. Max and Pascals face went pale luckily no one was paying attention to what just happened. Max and Pascal immediately ran after the rings to try and catch them, Varian saw them leave in a hurry and wondered what happened because they were going to ask for the rings soon, Varian sneaked our of his place and went out the back to try and catch Max. Luckily Max saw Varian and ran up to him while Pascal was still trying to catch the rings.

“Max what are you guys doing?, They are doing to ask for the rings soon....Max where are the rings?” Varian asked with concern.

Max snorted trying to tell him what happened and Varian understood. “A flower flew up your nose and made you sneezed causing the rings to fall and roll away? Varian asked Max to confirm that’s what happened. Max shook his head yes.

“Well let’s go find them and get them back quickly before they notice that we are gone” Varian said staying to run after the rings.

They ran throughout the entire market trying to get the rings, Max was running after Eugenes ring but he didn’t see the wheel cart in front of him and she stepped on it causing him to fall inside and make the cart move. He manage to catch the ring with his mouth when the cart was on the move, but he didn’t see the frying pan signs and he couldn’t control the cart and he got hit with 4 signs he was passed out. When the frying pans were hitting Max the person releasing the lanterns thought the bell rang and let the tarp go to let the lanterns fly. Pascal saw one of the rings get caught on one of the lanterns they were going to release after the wedding bell rang, pascal looked at Varian.

“Ok Pascal, do you think you can climb up there and get it?” Varian asked.

Pascal saluted Varian with his hand and started to climb. he saw the tarp fall and the lanterns started to fly away. Pascal managed to get to the lantern with the ring before it flew away and tried to grab it but a strong wind blew the lantern making the ring fall. Varian ran after it trying to catch it before it fell.

“I got it, I got it” Varian shouted reaching his hands to catch the ring, but he wasn’t watching where he was going and bumped into a fruit cart full of blueberries. He fell into the cart face first getting his black suit all stained with blueberries. “Gah! this is never coming off, and my dad is going to kill me” Varian stated to himself lifting himself up from the cart and dusting off any remaining blueberries.

“I’m so sorry I will pay for the damage as soon as i get the rings” Varian told the merchant still running after Rapunzel’s ring.

Max had finally woken up the cart was still rolling he opened his lips to see if he still had the ring and he did he was happy. Max looked around to see where he was and to try to stop the cart, when he saw Rapunzel’s ring rolling on the ground, Pascal managed to land the lantern he was on and he started to run after the ring again. Varian continued to run after Max and Pascal he was trying to avoid as many obstacles as he could. He Spotted Max and Pascal he ran as fast as he could to catch up. Pascal had managed to catch Rapunzel’s ring and max pulled him into the cart they smiled at each other as they saw that both rings were safe.

Varian spotted a cliff, the road was about to end, “*gasp* guys look out!” Varian shouted to Max and Pascal.

Max and Pascal looked forward and saw a dead end they looked at each other and a scared look came on their faces. Varian kept running and was thinking to himself how he was going to stop that cart.

“Ugh, if only I had brought my Alchemy balls I could stop the cart,.... Wait I do have one” Varian said breathlessly from all his running. He pulled a ball full of blue liquid, he tossed it at the cart, the ball exploded, the smoke finally cleared and some kind of blue hoop had stopped the cart just in the nick of time but the cart was going so fast that when it stopped it tossed Max and Pascal into the sky.

“No..No..No.. that wasn’t supposed to happen it shouldn’t have tossed them out...it was just supposed to stop the cart” Varian said with anger and worry. What if they don’t land somewhere safe, what if they die from the fall no one can survive a fall from that height, it would have been his fault that Max and Pascal were gone and Rapunzel and Eugene wouldn’t have any rings and the wedding would be ruined and everyone would hate him again. Varian looked up and saw that they managed to fall in a tar factory.

“ohh.. that’s not good” Varian shockingly said. He started to run towards the tar factory, when he arrived Max and Pascal were covered in black tar. “Oh guys.... I am so sorry...I...I didn’t mean for this to happen” Varian told them with sadness in his voice.

Max and Pascal looked at each other and smiled, Max nudged Varian telling him to look at them, Max opened his lips and Pascal opened his hand and they put the rings in Varian’s hands.

“*gasp*, you still have the rings!” Varian said with excitement. “Oh no... the wedding must almost be over we better leave now” Varian stated.

“I’m sorry about the tar incident can you forgive me?” Varian asked Max and Pascal. They smiled and gave him another nudge telling him they forgave him.

“Thanks guys” Varian said with a smile. They made their way back to the castle running as fast as they could, they managed to make it at the exact moment the priest was done.

“May I have the rings” the priest said.

Rapunzel and Eugene turned around and were absolutely in shock at what they saw, Max and Pascal were mostly covered in tar, and Varian was standing right next to them and his suit covered in blue stains and his hair was all messed up and dirty from when he was running. Nobody knew what to think or what happened, Eugene grabbed his ring and put it on Rapunzel’s finger, and Rapunzel grabbed Eugene ring and placed it on his finger, they looked at each other.

“You May kiss the bride” the priest said.

Eugene and Rapunzel kissed and everyone started shouting and clapping congratulating the newly weds. Eugene and Rapunzel made their way to the out of the church to the castle where they would finished celebrating their wedding. Varian smiled he was so happy they were able to get the rings back and that the wedding wasn’t ruined. Cassandra and Lance came over to Varian.

“What happened to you?” Cassandra asked

“Yeah why are you all dirty?” Lance asked

“Hehe... it’s a long story” Varian said sheepishly putting his hand behind his head.

“Well we have till the party is over, here let’s go get you cleaned up before you dad sees you” Cassandra said with a smile

“Hehe ok thanks Cass” Varian answered with a smile.

Lance took Max and Pascal to try and get them cleaned up as well before the party started he didn’t know how he was going to take off the tar but he’d finds a way. Cassandra managed to get some of the blueberries stains out and she fixed his hair, Lance found a natural remedy Exavior gave him to get rid of the tar without pulling the skin, Lance rubbed olive oil around the tar and waited 15mins and he gently pulled the tar off. They made their way to the party, everyone was dancing and singing and having a great time, Varian told Lance and Cassandra what happened.

“Wow, all this happened and no one even noticed” Cassandra answered

“Well that was kinda the point heheh” Varian said sheepishly.

Varian spent time with Cassandra and Lance, Cassandra told Varian and Lance what she had done during her adventure and what she encountered, Varian and Lance told some jokes to Cass who didn’t really laugh much but they sure did try to make her.

The party was a hit all the people of Corona were happy and Rapunzel and Eugene were happy to finally be Married. It was time for Cassandra to leave she went up to Rapunzel and Eugene.

“Raps, I am so happy for you, I still think you like have gotten married to someone else but...” Cassandra said with a smile looking at Eugene.

“Haha.. very funny Cass” Eugene teased.

“Haha, I’m kidding Eugene, I know you would do anything for Rapunzel” Cassandra said with a smile

“I’m so proud of you both” Cassandra said pulling them into a hug.

“Thanks for not giving up on me” Cassandra whispered to them. Rapunzel and Eugene Retuned the hug with a smile.

Cassandra went over to Varian, she wanted to leave right this time, “Varian it was great seeing you agin and I’m glad that we made up, I know it wasn’t easy for you to forgive me but I hope we can learn to trust each other again and be friends” Cassandra said with a smile.

“Thanks Cass, and we are friends” Varian said with a smile. Varian pulled Cass into a hug, Cass smiles and returned the hug. Cassandra waved goodbye and left.

Not long after that Lance went home with the girls, they congratulated the newly weds and went back to their tree house. Varian was ready to go home himself it was a long day, but he wanted to stay to see Rapunzel and Eugene leave for their honeymoon. The party was over, Rapunzel and Eugene walked out down the stairs to get to their horses that were already there waiting for them, Varian came up to them before they hopped on their horses.

“I just wanted to say thanks... to both of you for everything you’ve done for me, especially you Rapunzel for pardoning me and not giving up on me...and Eugene thanks for being like a father to me, for Letting me be apart of your team and being there when I need you” Varian said with a half smile. “I’ll miss you guys” Varian said with a smile.

Rapunzel and Eugene looked at Varian and pulled him into a hug, “we love you Varian, we couldn’t have saved Corona without you” Rapunzel said with a comforting tone.

“Yeah bud, we love you, and it wouldn’t be Team Awesome without you, well miss you Varian, try not to get hurt while working your inventions ” Eugene said with a smile hugging him tighter.

Varian smiled, “hehe thanks.... I promise I’ll be careful” Varian said with a smile. “I love you guys too” Varian said returning an even tighter hug. Varian pulled away for the hug and waved one last time before heading home.

They waved goodbye to their family and friends, Varian waved one last time before they got on their horses, “you ready sunshine?” Eugene asked Rapunzel. “Ready” Rapunzel answered.

“I love you Eugene” Rapunzel said with a smile

“I love you too Sunshine” Eugene answered.

They kissed each other on the lips and Ran off into the sunset. They lived Happily Ever After!

The End

I hope you enjoyed reading this? I’m sorry of it ran long, I had more ideas and i actually looked up on how to get rid of tar so part of this story is true lol I had a few other ideas so I added them so it kinda just came out like this😶 this was also my first time making a New Dream Fic so it’s not that great. Anyways let me know what you think? I’d love to hear your feedback it’s what keeps me going 💕 thanks for baring with me and reading this till the end💕

[anigodd]

I’m Sorry, My Dears (Part 4/?)

When they had stepped through the portal, they noticed something...off about the prison. 

Where it had once been a red and gold hallway with dim lighting and puzzles to find the new exit, they instead landed in a grand hall with arches ceilings made of obsidian and the walls lined with impossibly dark blocks. It was lit with deep purple torches that made their shadows stretch and contort into inhuman shapes. The hall was deathly silent with only the sounds of their breathing, shuffling, and footfalls to fill the silence.

Karl, ever the optimistic one, broke the silence. “Well, this is lovely, isn’t it?”

He spoke at a normal volume but his voice echoed all throughout the hall. Tom and Karl seemed to have the same idea and spun around to face each other with huge grins on their faces. The gods knew where this was going but were too slow to stop the inevitable. The hall was filled with ‘REEEEeeeEeeEeE’ as the two champions screamed at the top of their lungs to hear the echoes bounce off the walls and ceiling.

Dec, understanding the importance of being quiet, was frantically trying to tell them to “be quiet guys please you are going to get us killed!” and other things along those lines. He was, of course, ignored.

Mianite put his face in his hands and heaved a deep sigh. Why was he hopeful that they could take this seriously? Really, he should’ve known. He pulled his hands away from his face and watched as Karl laughed at Tom, who was trying not to pass out from screaming. He did love his champions laugh and while he enjoyed seeing him having fun, Ianite and Dianite would rip his head off if he encouraged them. He rarely chatted with the Captain, but he knew from what his Champion has described that he is deeply humble and kind, but is also dangerous and ruthless with his enemies. If they manage to get him back, he would like to get to know the Captain better.

Ianite has never been more disappointed in her life. Well, there were some other things, but this had to be up there on the list. She watched as Tom lunged at Karl for laughing at him, but Karl dodged and ran away while yelling “it isss what it isss” and the two dissolve into laughter. She was grateful for the Priest trying to force them to cooperate....even if just for a little bit because now he is also chuckling, but she expected more from them considering they know that their friend may be in serious danger. She felt frustration bubble in her chest. What did the Captain ever do to deserve this fate? Guilt played at her mind—she had to calm down before she incinerated one of them, then the Captain would never forgive her. She couldn’t live with that on her conscience.

Dianite was torn between reveling in the chaos unfolding around him and forcing the champions to be quiet on concentrate on their mission. While he hadn’t seen Tom this carefree and happy in a while—it made him happy to see him enjoying himself—now was really not the time for fooling around. In the past, he loved watching the three of them squabble, laugh, and confuse their enemies with their carefree nature, but that was with Jordan. Jordan, who could help them fight better as a team. Jordan, who had their backs. Jordan, who helped them out of sticky situations. Who would help them now? He’s barely holding himself together with Jordan’s disappearance (he misses him so much); he couldn’t handle having his champion ripped away from him as well. And he knew for a fact that Mianite couldn’t either. And Ianite? She would be beside herself with guilt if all things went to shit. And so, he pushed down his chaotic nature to address the champions and bring—he shivered and nearly gagged—order to their actions.

Dianite turned towards the zombie, who was happily chatting with Dec and Karl trying to formulate a plan, when he abruptly stopped talking and doubled over. Lava began dripping from his mouth as his god punished him for being reckless in an urgent situation. His friends, while startled at first, recovered and tried to soothe him and tell him it would be ok, but what came from Tom were choked noises and gasping breaths.

Dianite turned towards Mianite as his eyes glowed red. “Will you not punish him, brother? He is also making a mockery of the situation. We don’t have time for this. His voice deepened and warped like the nether portal itself. Though he spoke calmly, his rage cut through the other five beings.

“No, brother.” Mianite responded. “I won’t punish him. He’s done nothing to warrant my wrath. While they haven’t taken the situation seriously, I don’t see why you couldn’t have just told the zombie to stop fooling around. No need for,” he gestured wildly towards Tom with his hand, “this.”

Mianite looked back at Karl who was trying to keep a nearly unconscious Tom speaking. The caveman was telling jokes and wild stories with a strained smile but was close to tears as the stress of watching a friend lose a battle got to him. Karl sensed his god looking at him and looked up. He glanced at Mianite with a desperate expression—a plea to help—and turned to Dianite.

The caveman’s face contorted in anger and he was about to yell something in the defense of his friend, when he was silenced as well. He may have not been a follower of Dianite, but he was a mortal and the Chaos god didn’t want to hear him yelling any more than he already has.

Mianite whipped his head around back towards him. “How dare you do that to MY Champion?!” He yelled and allowed Karl to speak again.

“Karl, please try to keep the zombie conscious,” is all he said. The caveman nodded and rubbed his throat. He decided he hated that sensation of whatever Dianite did to his voice. Karl knew that they shouldn’t have yelled and fooled around but it’s how they cope with tough situations to make it more enjoyable and cut the tension. Did they really think he and Tom were wasting time? Well....they were but dammit these missions can’t all just be doom and gloom. Tom had been down for days now and wanted to cheer him up. Hell, Karl himself hadn’t felt right in a while and just wanted this mission to be as it normally was with laughing and screaming and fooling around. He knew Jordan was tough and a few minutes of fooling around wouldn’t hurt him....right?

Dianite didn’t cease his punishment but a grin snuck onto his face. “What, you wouldn’t punish your Champion when he’s done wrong? How cowardly. You like him or something?” He teased. While his tone was light his words promised hurt.

Mianite turned red and poked Dianite in the chest. “Don’t you even think about-“

“Boys!” Ianite scolded. They looked towards her, the older sister, like the younger brothers they were and they are in trouble. However, this time, she looked pissed instead of disappointed.

“Dianite, quite punishing the zombie boy, he hasn’t done anything else wrong than the caveman.” She ordered.

“But—“ Dianite began.

“Do not argue with me right now Dianite or I swear to mom you will regret it.” She angrily stated.

“And Mianite will you stop provoking them into these foolish acts? I saw you smiling; we are in a dire situation here and you all are acting like petulant children? Can we all focus here please?” She ranted. Ianite inhaled and exhaled slowly.

Tom was slowly regaining strength as his punishment stopped and her brothers settled into a strained peace. The three mortals turned towards her. Karl dipped his head and thanked her while apologizing for causing a scene. Ianite nodded down at him.

“You are lucky they didn’t send guards of any sort down here to see what all the noise was.” She said like a mother to a child. Karl nodded guiltily but there was a thoughtful look on his face. It was kind of suspicious there were no guards coming down here wasn’t it? It doesn’t matter now, they had to move forward if they wanted to find Jordan.

“As for you, my dear zombie,” she placed her hand on his shoulder and gave him renewed strength for the journey, “ I don’t believe you deserved that punishment, but we cannot fool around any longer. Understood? Your friend’s life is on the line.” Ianite said firmly.

Tom slowly stood up, shaking slightly but otherwise ok. He nodded at Ianite, not trusting how raspy his voice probably sounded, but still thanked her.

“Thank you, Lady Ianite. I’m sorry about that. Won’t happen again, I promise.” He said as cheerily as possible though the effect was ruined by the grimace on his face. He absentmindedly rubbed at his throat. It had been a while since he had been punished by Dianite, but he deserved it, didn’t he? Guilt crept into his chest and added to the burning in his throat. What if they had just doomed Jordan? Why did he have to be so nonchalant about these situations? This wasn’t just another mission from the gods, this is truly a life or death situation and they may have ruined it!

If they did, Tom wouldn’t be able to cope with that and as he looks at Karl to make sure he is ok, he knows that Karl wouldn’t be able to either.

“Karl, buddy, I think we should hold off on the screamin and partyin till we get Jordan back, yeah? It just doesn’t feel the same.” Tom suggested. While it may have seemed like an offhand comment, they both knew the meaning.

We don’t have time to waste. We have to focus and concentrate else we lose a friend. And we both can’t handle it if it’s our fault we were too late.

“Sure Tom, I agree with ya. We can fool around later and shove our love for cappy in his face when we get him.” Casual words from Karl but an agreement to Tom’s suggestion. They both couldn’t back out now.

Tom smiled and patted Karl’s shoulder. “Glad we’re in agreement, buddy.” He turned to Dec. “Alright mister Priest, which way should we head?” he asked.

“Well, er, I’m not actually sure. I’ve never been here before.” He admitted. He may be the Priest but he wasn’t a mastermind. He ignored Tom’s shout of ‘wot’ in the back and asked the gods if they knew where to go and they also replied negatively. Great, so they were now lost in a dangerous dimension with a dangerous enemy and a friend in danger. How quiant.

“Maybeeeee we should just start walking?” He suggested. It was the only thing they could do really.

“Good plan Dec. See, this is why you’re the Priest. You come up with great ideas and tell cool stories. Gotta love it man.” Tom praised and began to follow Dec. The others followed as well.

For a short while, they walked in silence until:

“Oi! Is this a door?” Karl exclaimed. He was looking to his right near the wall.

“It is.” Dec said and walked towards it. “Good work, Karl.” He praised.

“‘Course bro. I got eyes like a hawk.” He joked and winked at Dec.

“Pfffttt yeah more like a squirrel.” Tom countered with a snicker.

“Boys!” Ianite, once again scolded. The two apologized and sobered quickly.

The door was pitch black and seemed to suck all of the little light out of the room. The shadows twisted and curled around it like smoke. It had no design on it, and looked like a part of the wall except for a small cat insignia on the handle. Dec pushed it open. In front of them was a small, well-lit hallway with a gold and red carpet and quartz walls. Sea lanterns lit the hallway and they could see another door at the end.

“Alright guys, let’s go.” Dec stated and they began to walk forward once more. Before they could get to the door, however, a figure barged through and quickly closed the door behind them while shielding it with their body. Their clothes were rumpled and torn and they were breathing shakily as if they were in pain. Their whole body shook with exhaustion.

The rescue team instantly recognized this man.

“JordANNNNNNNN!” Came two simultaneous yells. Tom and Karl ran forward to hug the Captain while the other four hung back. They were cautious and wary of him. He just....didn’t seem right.

Jordan expression changed to one of utter relief and he slumped against the door as the two crushed him in a hug. Tears came to their eyes as they reunited with their friend.

While it was a touching moment, they had to get going. Ianite cleared her throat.

“Unfortunately, this dimension only allows beings to enter at their will, not exit. We will need to find our own way out.” She turned towards her Champion with an almost convincing smile of sincerity. Almost. They couldn’t tell if Jordan fell for it or not but for their safety, they hoped he did.

“My Champion, it is wonderful to see you and I apologize for taking so long to come rescue you. We hope you can forgive us.” She asked. Her body was relaxed but her eyes were tense. She didn’t know what Jordan was capable of or what state he was in, but she knew he was dangerous.

The Captain released himself from the hug and turned to Ianite. He smiled at her with his eyes closed and body relaxed when he addressed the other four.

“I can’t say how relieved I am to see you guys. I really am.” He smiled wider. His shadow stretched farther up on the door behind him. “And Lady Ianite, it’s alright, I’m just glad you came to find me.”

He looked over her shoulder to see Dec and the two other gods. His smiled dropped for a millisecond before it returned but his eyes became cold.

“And you brought the whole crew, I see. Dec, I hope you didn’t worry about me too much.” He said in a teasing tone. Dec smiled at him and forced a chuckle, but said nothing. Jordan spared a glance at Mianite but his eyes lingered on Dianite before he turned back to his friends.

Dianite knew that this was not his Captain but dammit it didn’t hurt any less when he said nothing to him and looked at him as if they were distant friends. He hoped they weren’t too late. He watched him converse with the other two champions. Tom and Karl suspected nothing which would put them in danger and make it harder for them to battle if it came to that. He glanced at Ianite. She was worrying her lip as she, too, watched them converse and knew she was worried for their safety as well.

There was nothing they could do now except play their parts and let Jordan play his. They spared a glance at Dec. His face was unreadable but he was watching the Captain like a hawk. They knew the Priest would fight to protect the other two, even if it meant harming Jordan in the process. Their thoughts were interrupted by Jordan.

“Guys, as much as I love this, I think we should get out of here before we get unalived by something. When I was running here, there was a different hallway out this door so I think we could check out what’s down there?” He suggested while pointing behind him.

“Sure thing Jordan!” and “Lead the way Cap!” came from his friends as they followed him through the door. The Captain’s shadow disappeared through the door and into the hallway. The other four hesitated and Jordan shot them an odd look that made them follow him through the door.

[fantasticstoryteller]

Kingdoms ch. 21

The head cook stared at him like he had lost his mind. Not an uncommon look; most of the kitchen staff was looking at him the same way. “I apologize,” said the head cook slowly, “but surely I could not have heard you correctly? You wish that I what?”

“I want you to cook rabbits for Spot to use in his courting,” Wade explained again. “I’ll provide the rabbits,” he added.

“Why?” asked the head cook, abandoning all pretense of humility.

“I’m trying to help him succeed in his courting!” Wade said with a smile.

The kitchen staff stared at him. Harry walked in, grabbed a piece of bread, and got his hand slapped automatically by the head cook. “What is everyone talking about?” he asked before taking a bite of the crusty bread, sending crumbs flying to the floor. Unnoticed by almost everyone—everyone except Wade—a little spider (the size of a lady’s hand, so “little” was only in comparison to the rider spiders) came out from under one of the cooking tables and quickly ate the bread crumbs.

Maybe Wade should ask for some bread to go with the rabbit. Couldn’t hurt if the lady spider thought Spot could get her more delicious food that she couldn't get on her own. Maybe that would help?

“He wants to help High Priest Peter’s spider win his courtship,” the head cook said as she looked at Harry.

Harry toasted Wade with his bread. “Good luck with that,” he said amiably before taking another bite. More crumbs scattered to the floor prompting the return of the floor cleaning spider. Another, larger spider, came out of nowhere and pounced, sinking fangs into the back of the floor cleaning spider before dragging it away. Ouch.

“We all feel nothing but respect and admiration for High Priest Peter,” the head cook said, “but—his spider. Should it really breed?”

Wade felt shocked to realize that, in the land of monstrous spiders, Spot was an oddity. True, the spider was larger than the other rider spiders (large enough that he could easily carry both Peter and Wade and probably another two people if he had a big enough saddle for it), but this was Wade’s first experience with the fact that the other people from Arachne thought that Spot was a monster. To Wade, who grew up in a land where if a spider was the size of a small bronze coin it was huge, this was almost insane. Here, there were spiders everywhere that were big enough for humans to literally ride. It seemed—almost petty to worry about a few extra feet of length, especially since Spot was such a cuddle buddy.

Harry simply smiled. “Do you want to deal with a moping, unhappy rider spider the size of Spot?” he asked sweetly.

The head cook recoiled. Wade watched the interaction with fascination. “No!” the head cook said, paling visibly.

Huh. There was more to rider spider rejection than Peter had said. “Awesome!” said Wade. “You can help me with this!”

The head cook rolled her eyes and lifted them to the ceiling. Wade was familiar with this look—his own mother had worn it frequently around him back when she’d been alive. The woman took a deep breath. “How do you want those rabbits cooked?” she asked.

“Romantically!” The woman groaned as Harry laughed and the two of them left the kitchen.

“You could have just told her you’re completing an assignment from the goddess,” Harry said quietly.

Wade grimaced. He should have known that Peter would talk to Harry about it. “It wasn’t an assignment,” Wade said slowly, “so much as it was—a suggestion. I’m surprised you know about it,” Wade added. He should have known that Peter would talk to Harry—but it hadn’t occurred to him. Peter valued the privacy of his people more than his own comfort.

“Wade, you go into a temple to pray and come out with a sudden desire to do everything in your power to help one of the largest, sweetest rider spiders succeed in courting his chosen mate? It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

And Wade frequently forgot that Harry was a commander. He had to know how to figure stuff out on the fly, in order to evolve battle plans under stress. Once upon a time, Wade had done the same thing—but never for other people. Or at least, never for people other than his father.

And, somehow, Peter had arranged it so that Nate was gone and Arachne had a different ambassador from Reaper. An ambassador who wasn’t, as far as Wade could tell, in the know about the other things that Wade had been trained for, raised for. It felt, for the first time, like the tie between him and his father was cut. It was both liberating and terrifying. No matter how bad his father had gotten, no matter how bad things had been—he’d always known that, at the end of the day, his father would still be the rotten, selfish, mismanaging jerk that he’d always been.

“I figure out a lot of things,” Harry added lightly tapping the red, angry looking bonding mark on the side of his neck, over the gland. “I figured out that the healers have no idea what’s going on with you, that you’re far less uncomfortable around the new Reaper ambassador than you were the old one, and Peter hasn’t gone into heat yet.”

It took a moment for the last one to sink in, but when it did Wade gaped. “What?”

“Every other person in the army that went to rescue you went into heat and rut almost as soon as we got back.” He flushed and toyed with the angry flesh for a moment, no doubt remembering his own rut. “But Peter—hasn’t. And trust me, for someone as visible as the High Priest, everyone will know when Peter goes into heat.”

“It’s—I’m still broken Harry.”

The commander shrugged. “And?” he asked flippantly. “One of my soldiers went into heat with a broken arm, two cracked ribs, and a sprained ankle. Before Morphio left they healed as much of the damage as they could.”

“I think—I think it might be different.”

“Maybe.” Suddenly Harry winced before clapping Wade on the shoulder. “I’ve got to rescue a courier from Mary Jane. She’s pissed about something.”

Everyone would know the moment Peter went into heat, because everyone was watching him. Wade wasn’t sure if he found this information to be terrifying—or incredibly arousing. Either way, he was going to have to ground himself more.

Next order of business: finding Spot and convincing him to wait until the food was cooked before taking it to the mate of his dreams. Oh, and to stop plucking whole flower bushes from the castle gardens. The maids were getting downright upset about it.

[bokuranofandom]

Bokura no Kiseki - chapter 97 quick summary

Date of release: 28th March 2020

Translation is yet to be done.

So this is probably the last chapter of volume 22... and oh boy, it still continue to amaze me. Now we caught up with English scans, it’s only chapter that is not yet available, te-he. We’re still on 6th June, Thursday, continuing Nishina’s interrogation and the magic test of the rest of the class members.

(well, spoilers ahead!)

Part 1: Minami and Nishina secret talk

So last chapter Nishina approached Minami and appealed to his inner Veronica to wiggle out of trouble. It’s still heavy raining, so the others don’t hear what they say, even if they are standing pretty close. Takao warned Nishina not to come closer, so she stands between them. Nishina just dismiss her saying that it’s not her place to act here, acting on her loyalty toward her master. He’s mocking her. Minami also feels provoked by that, and responds they don’t lack actors, so he sees no need to back him up... Nishina knows Minami’s weakness and goes straight ahead to exploit it. He informs Minami, whispering into his ear, that what he said back then, when Minami named himself Eugene, was the truth. The part about betrayers on Zerestria’s side... among servants. A spy working for an unknown party, pretending to work for the Church, but actually not Church’s pawn... and Nishina really doesn’t want to reveal his identity to this person. So he asks Minami to carry the rest of magic test, because there should be a person among servants who can use magic... and it will work for both of their advantage.

Part 2: Let’s continue the magic trial

Hasebe is calling out to them, having enough of standing in the rain, in suspension, watching them secretly talking. She asks Nishina to reveal his name, but Nishina just refuses and... calls upon Glen Schreiber (and Schreiber, not Alphard). Hiroki is surprised and not happy, because she wanted to announce at this meeting, that Glen is here, but she decided not to, because Glen’s reason for staying in the shadows is the same as Nishina’s and it would work out in his favor... but Nishina gives her no choice. So yes, she admits that Glen is here. And of course Nishina asks her then why he won’t come out... there’s no answer, but Nishina doesn’t care, as he uses it to explain it to the rest of class, that as they can see, there are few others who might not want to reveal their identities because they have their reasons, while adding cunningly, that he is actually jealous of those, who can come out in the open with no worries. It spurs Hasebe and others to prove their innocence, and Ootomo is continuing the trial. No one among servants can use magic... Minami thinks to himself that it lower the chances, but they can’t rule it out completely yet too. And here comes last person to check: Zeze. Ootomo is anxious because this magic test checks also some magic that prince Eugene could use... Minami also panics a little, hoping Zeze is not planing to do anything weird... in the end, Zeze could not use any magic. Does it mean the trial can be... cheated? The school bell rings for the end of break, so they head back to the classroom.

Part 3: On way to the classroom

Right before leaving the scene, of course Nishina must provoke Ootomo, mocking him that his mission is still protecting and overlooking over believers. Then we see Abe (silent and hesitant about learning that Watanabe is Ashley) and Nanaura... still in shock. He now clearly remembers stabbing Ashley... and regret it, of course. He can’t face (smiling at him) Watanabe, but at least he admits he feels reassured that Ashley is also there. Hiroki tries to put a little more show with Nanaura, yelling at him to reveal who Nishina is (in front of Nishina, of course). Nanaura thinks there’s still a danger that revealing Nishina’s identity will result in death, but he’s also aware that it’s not only a matter of time until that happens so... right before the class, Minami informs Nishina he’s going to discuss what he told him with a handful of aides. Nishina doesn’t seem to mind that.

Part 4: Minami and company

Minami talks about what Nishina told him with others: Ootomo, Teshimano, Moto (since when Moto is part of his group?), Hiroki and Takao. They of course suspect, that it might’ve been only garbage so Nishina could focus their attention elsewhere, just not on him. Takao seems puzzled... Nishina seemed frantic when he sought the princess’s help, but she can’t tell if this was only an act either. But as they wanted to check everyone anyway, so they decided to just go on with their plan... there’s Kikuchi and Enomoto left to check. And then, Moto remembers... Calvin’s death. He remembers hearing roars of invading Moswick forces. And being assaulted with magic by someone. Someone in servant robe, with Zerestria’s earring. He was shocked and hesitated for a split second and... that cost him his very life. That servant killed him with magic, while blowing an enormous hole in the castle wall. That’s how Calvin died and now Moto can prove Nishina’s words... there was a spy among servants.

Part 5: Nishina under attack

Late in the evening, Nishina is on his way back, when he’s suddenly attacked with magic. And it’s... Zeze. He throws back his hoodie and show his face. And Nishina looks like he want to flee, so Zeze is firing some magic again, aiming for his leg. He grabs him by his t-shirt and nonchalantly says he got tired of waiting this tedious farce. He mocks Nishina, that of course if he asks Minami for help, he won’t say no. He’s not wanting to give up on learning Nishina’s true identity. Nishina’s not backing of yet, so Zeze plays with him... so who am I, what do you think? Prince? Glen? Or servant spy? Then he gives him a clue, and quotes Lucas yelling at Carlo for not helping him out (oh so Eugene WAS there).  Zeze mocks him for toying too much with Ootomo-sensei for that lol. After that, he asks Nishina if he’s Lucas... he admits. At last page, Nishina realizes, that Zeze must’ve been there too, of course. And Zeze is putting “innocent” face and playing it off like... oops, seems like I gave out my identity too. With that kind of face.

The end of chapter.

This chapter was sponsored by hot badass Zeze. I was totally surprised he decided to act all on his own (I doubt he told about this to anyone, honestly). And he didn’t have to mock Nishina or push him so much... but he finds Lucas (and Nishina too) extremely irritating so he couldn’t help it. And he put himself in superior position for sure. A little payback for pushing Zeze around, when he was an innocent boy, and for almost killing his best buddy. Well, he deserved that and it’s hell satisfying to see that haha.

So Nishina talked out his way... and our attention switched to even greater enemy, I guess? There was no way Lucas was “just a bad guy”, and I totally can tell that Kumeta-sensei is doing perfect job into making him gray. He’s not innocent... but he done everything that was necessary to carry out his own mission huh. And now it seems that even Lucas was afraid of someone... 

Just who could be this spy? Judging from what we saw, maybe Cordelia (Enomoto’s past). The one who attacked Calvin looked like a girl. We know not much about Cordelia, aside from that she died before the activation of the pillar of light (Bella and Mimi saw her dead body). My guess is she was Evan’s spy, because she knew precisely when Moswick army attack took place, she was already on her way to find Ishmael’s spy and eliminate him. Or who knows, maybe Aldras’ spy? Or maybe there was more spies... Kikuchi is definitely VERY suspicious too. And that spy... who could it be, occupation-wise? A priest? A noble? That magic was powerful enough to smash experienced, strong knight as Calvin, and make a hole in the wall.

Remember how Ooki was messaging with Enomoto chapter ago? She promised she will tell her in anything happens... Now Ooki feels betrayed by a guy she likes. She’s conflicted and sad, so she will surely quickly tell everything to Enomoto. And if Enomoto is a spy, it’s exactly what Nishina didn’t want. So ultimately, Ooki will bring... a huge distaster on the guy she likes.  Who knows, maybe this time it will be Nishina who will be hunted, and Ootomo will decide to save him this time?

We also see that Zeze was fine on magic test. How? But given his example, we can be almost sure, one can cheat at that test, so it’s not reliable at all.

Why in the first place Zeze decided to approach Nishina? Without a doubt, after today, Zeze was sure he is Lucas. And two chapter ago, they had that conversation they NEED to remember about parts their forget... and only bishop Gale or Lucas knew them. Bishop is not possible, but hey, Lucas is there. And as Eugene, he probably remembers he wasn’t of much a threat to him, so he decided to approach him. After all, for long time, Lucas mission was to guard him, and it was Eugene who betrayed him. I hope we will hear their conversation in next chapter! 

Oh boy, one long-standing question is answered -- but many others still pop up. I love this manga.

[this-is-a-love-story-fleabag]

Dial-a-priest

A man slips his phone number into our favourite Fleabag's back pocket, but it turns out to be a wrong number, connecting her directly to a priest. Chapter 1 of 2. 1250 words. Also on ao3.

It was late on a wet Tuesday evening. The priest was curled up in an armchair with a glass of whiskey and a second-hand paperback copy of Great Expectations for company, when his phone lit up and buzzed against the coffee table.

Unknown number: are you still awake?

He stared at the screen in puzzlement for a moment before replying.

Me: I am, who is this?

Unknown number: the hot brunette with the nice arse from the bar last Thursday

She attached a somewhat tasteful, fully-clothed photo of herself, taken at an imaginative angle, looking over her shoulder into the lens with a knowing twinkle. The priest was forced to agree with her self-assessment of her attractiveness and the quality of her arse.

Unknown number: I've got a bottle of limoncello and a value sized jar of coconut oil, want to come over for a memorable evening?

Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, he blinked a few times and very firmly suppressed the urge to reply in the affirmative.

Me: I'm afraid you've got the wrong number, but I hope you have a lovely time.

I hope you have a lovely time. Fuck! Like she'd told him she was going to spend a pleasant afternoon playing croquet.

It was late on a wet Tuesday evening. The priest was curled up in an armchair with a glass of whiskey and a second-hand paperback copy of Great Expectations for company, when his phone lit up and buzzed against the coffee table.

Unknown number: are you still awake?

He stared at the screen in puzzlement for a moment before replying.

Me: I am, who is this?

Unknown number: the hot brunette with the nice arse from the bar last Thursday

She attached a somewhat tasteful, fully-clothed photo of herself, taken at an imaginative angle, looking over her shoulder into the lens with a knowing twinkle. The priest was forced to agree with her self-assessment of her attractiveness and the quality of her arse.

Unknown number: I've got a bottle of limoncello and a value sized jar of coconut oil, want to come over for a memorable evening?

Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, he blinked a few times and very firmly suppressed the urge to reply in the affirmative.

Me: I'm afraid you've got the wrong number, but I hope you have a lovely time.

I hope you have a lovely time. Fuck! Like she'd told him she was going to spend a pleasant afternoon playing croquet.

Unknown number: well this is embarrassing.

Despite the shock of her initial brash forwardness, he had to admit he was becoming reluctantly charmed by his mystery correspondent.

Me: Don't worry about it.

Unknown number: I don't usually share my innermost secrets with strangers via text message

Me: Well you picked the right wrong number, I'm actually a priest.

Unknown number: oh jesus

Unknown number: OH, JESUS

Unknown number: you're joking

In response, he spent rather longer than he was proud of taking a selfie of him holding a bible in one hand, his collar visible, smiling in a way that he hoped didn't look too manic.

Unknown number: oh fuck

Me: So don't worry, I've heard far worse in the confession box, believe me.

Unknown number: ha

Unknown number: hear a lot of juicy sins then?

Unknown number: do share

Me: You know I can't tell you that!

Unknown number: oh go on

Unknown number: my plans for the evening are already ruined

Unknown number: entertain me

Turning his gaze up to the heavens, the priest pointed at the ceiling. "You can't get annoyed about this one," he said firmly, and took another sip of his drink.

Me: OK

Me: This is probably fine to tell because I heard it second-hand from a really fucking old priest at seminary school so the person is probably already dead.

Unknown number: are you allowed to swear, Father?

Me: I fucking hope so.

Me: OK so there was this old woman who came into the confession box

Me: and she spends a really long time asking the priest whether he's going to keep what she says a secret

Me: asking whether he's ever called the police on someone, whether the box is soundproof

Me: so the priest reassures her that it's all confidential

Me: and he's sure she's about to tell her that she's fucking murdered someone or robbed a bank

Unknown number: and??

Me: she made a rabbit pie from her daughter's pet rabbit

Me: and told her that the rabbit had run away.

Unknown number: fucking hell

Me: right???

Me: somehow I think robbing a fucking bank would almost have been better

Me: anyway, I hope that makes up for your ruined evening

The next few text messages came quickly one after another as though the words were spilling out of her as she explained herself.

Unknown number: I don't do this kind of thing

Unknown number: inviting strange men home

Unknown number: I used to

Unknown number: but I haven't had sex for 8 months

Unknown number: on purpose

Unknown number: and I ate a vegetable the other day

Unknown number: my body is a temple etc

Me: why did you stop?

Unknown number: I don't want to give up sex forever, I just

Unknown number: the next time I don't want it to be about the thrill of conquest or wanting to feel wanted

Unknown number: I want it to be about feelings or whatever

He smirked.

Me: "feelings or whatever"

Me: That's beautiful

Me: Is that from a poem?

Unknown number: fuck you

Me: I do understand. I was in a similar situation before I was called to the priesthood.

Me: Sex never brought me the peace I was searching for.

Me: what was different tonight?

Unknown number: what?

Me: why did you decide to text the number?

Me: you got this person's number a week ago, why did it take you until now?

Unknown number: Mercury's in retrograde

Me: go on, tell me

Unknown number: bad day

Me: why?

She took a long time in replying and he was about to send a second message to apologise for prying when his phone buzzed again.

Unknown number: anniversary of my friend's death

Oh, shit. This is what happens when you pry.

Me: I'm sorry for your loss.

Unknown number: thanks

Me: The funeral liturgy says that life is changed, not ended.

Me: I've always loved that, if that's of any help.

Unknown number: I'm an atheist, Father, but thank you

Me: that's OK

Me: some of my best friends are atheists

Me: that's a lie, I don't have any friends

Unknown number: except for your imaginary friend in the sky ;)

Me: oh fuck you

Unknown number: thanks for keeping me company tonight

Unknown number: me and my coconut oil are going to bed now

Me: sweet dreams

He managed to get to sleep that night without giving in to the temptation to abuse his flesh while imagining rubbing coconut oil all over his new texting buddy, but it was a close call.

After breakfast he did allow himself to send her another text, while reassuring God that he was just doing it to be helpful.

God didn't believe him, but kept it to himself.

Me: how are you feeling today?

Unknown number: better, I think

Unknown number: back on the wagon

Me: I'm glad to hear it

Unknown number: you must be an expert at not having sex

He blew out a breath and chewed on his lip, not keen to enter dangerous territory.

Me: more of an enthusiastic amateur

Unknown number: how do you do it?

Me: I believe that I'm supposed to love people in a different way

Me: sex was always so complicated

Me: I just want to be able to help people in a straightforward way, to have some clarity

Unknown number: do you miss it?

Me: sometimes

Me: but I can't deny that celibacy has brought me a lot of peace

Unknown number: what do priests actually do all day?

Me: priesty stuff

Me: writing sermons, organising the choir and the band and the football team, going around to see the housebound

Me: bit of reading

Me: fighting off the mutant bats from the attic

Unknown number: that's a rookie error

Unknown number: get the bats on side

Unknown number: instant bat army

Me: I don't get on well with the creatures of the night

Me: foxes have been after me for years

Unknown number: what do they want from you?

Me: I don't know!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Unknown number: so, easy, get the bats to protect you from the foxes

Me: can bat bites give you a disease?

Me: asking for a friend

Unknown number: oh for fuck's sake

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 4

Tephi: Okay, guys, it's that episode. And, as I told Ranubis, I would like to speak for my discipline and say that we do not condone Tucker's actions. #not all biologists (You know what, it's really hard to try to be funny after reading this recap, so I'm going to stop.) Onwards with Brotherhood! Last time the Elric Brothers revealed a corrupt priest, and now they’re going to report to Colonel Roy Mustang. And learn about bio-alchemy, according to the last post-credits? Let’s get to it!

We get the Narrator recapping last episode, and he says the priest used alchemy and… ‘a’ Philosopher’s Stone? Wait wait wait, what? He had the real thing? ...that raises many questions, some of which I asked last time. I’ll just keep watching to see if I get some answers this go-around. Ok, never mind then. Should have waited a few more seconds until the Narrator said “revealed to be a fake.” Episode 04: “An Alchemist’s Anguish” Well that’s not an ominous title at all. Late at night in Central (is that the town’s name, or just the keep?) with a freaking-huge moon taking up most of the screen. A State Alchemist is walking along a street and good Leto man, what is going on with your mustache?! Hold on, have to take a screenshot.

What, did you strap a boomerang to your face? How much mustache wax do you use to make those razor-sharp points? Really now, that’s just excessive. Ahem. Anyways, Mr. Mustache comes to a stop and grunts. He sees someone? [Scar] “You are Basque Grand, the Iron Blood Alchemist… correct?” Huh. So we’ve got a name for Mister Mustache, but given how we’ve never seen him before, and someone apparently named “Scar” is confronting him at night… taking all bets folks, how long is the Fresh Meat going to last? My money’s on him bowing out in under a minute. Waitaminute, I recognize you from the intro! Your sunglasses don’t fool me, you’re that guy with the white X scar on his face! Appropriate name, I guess. He says Alchemists who have turned against God shall be punished. Another Leto follower? So Basque recognizes him as a “bloodthirsty murderer” who’s been targeting State Alchemists lately… which implies that he’s faced multiple Alchemists, and is here to tell the tale. Uh, Basque? Buddy? You think you might want to call for some backup against someone who’s faced a bunch of… nah, nevermind. You go ahead and equip your engraved gauntlets, I’m sure you can handle it. Ooh, nice power! Punch the ground and summon a bunch of cannons. How effective is it? Not at all! Some chains! The same. Stick him in a vault? Maybe- oh come on dude. “That wasn’t so difficult”? You’re just asking for it now. Yup, grabbed by the face. “Now you perish.” And oh jeez that face-zapping was uncalled for… and right past the minute mark. Seriously, that “battle” went from timestamp 2:54 to 3:54. I think Scar’s credentials have been established. Hey, I know that voice! And THAT voice too! Good to see you guys again, Hughes and Armstrong! And… oh dear. Hughes warned Armstrong to be careful, that he could be the next target, and The Mighty Armstrong… just said “Understood.” No bravado, no boasting, just business. This is serious, isn’t it? Fuhrer Bradley/Fury arrives at the scene, and every Alchemist immediately salutes. Fury looks over the scene, and authorizes Hughes as the officer in charge of the case any additional personnel he needs to track down the traitor. The next day at Central, Riza’s doing paperwork and hands something to a Lieutenant Breda, and ooh a cast of unique characters sitting at a table? Breda gripes about the Colonel letting work pile up, asks for Havoc to help but the blond guy says he’s got enough already. Then [Falman] identifies some guy in the paperwork as a crooked State Alchemist that the Elrics exposed. Messing with a radio is a little guy with glasses, Master Sergeant… aw come on, really? *Sigh* Guess I have to give up on Fuhrer Fury, since we’ve got this little guy named Fuery now. Way to ruin the joke, dude. Anyways, Fuery’s saying he’ll probably have to replace the radio’s receiver… when a familiar white glove in a red sleeve reaches into frame and touches the radio, leaving it good as new. Man, Alchemy sure is handy. Good to see you guys! Now hurry up, the Colonel’s expecting you, and wipe that grimace off your face. Congrats on the Liore incident are in order, although Ed gripes that he didn’t do it for them. And the stone ended up being fake, but Cornello still got power from it. How does that work? Neither brother knows much about the field of bio-alchemy. Roy recommends they consult a specialist, pulls a file on The Sewing Life Alchemist, Shou Tucker, who’s done research into chimera transmutation. Well that’s nice of- for Leto’s sake Ed, stop ranting at your boss. He is your boss, remember? But Roy insists he’s trying to repay them for the Liore case, as “doing you a favor is better than being indebted to you.” Panning across the city now, Roy talking about how two years ago Tucker transmuted a chimera that could understand human speech, earning his certification as a State Alchemist. So it could talk? Huh, interesting. I assumed chimeras were brute-force creatures like the one Cornello used. But bio-alchemy can create communication-capable creatures? Not sure what to think about the ramifications- Oh what the hell. Concerns multiplied. “It only said one thing: ‘I want to die.’” And then it refused to eat until it got its wish. Um. Ok. I am now rather suspicious of bio-alchemy. Standard alchemy that we’ve seen has mostly been similar to basic magic or elemental control. But creating a communicative creature that wishes only for death? That sounds more like the thing a State Alchemist would be sent after to shut down, not say “Nice job, here’s a badge!” Alright, moving on. The Elrics and Roy are at a house now, Ed’s remarking on how big it is- Dog! Giant dog just glomped Ed, Al’s all worried about his big brother who’s stuck under a cheerful dog. Then the door opens? A little girl (Nina) tells her father there are people outside, he gently reminds her this was why she needed to keep the dog tied up. Heh. Inside, the camera’s panning over a bunch of dusty books and scrolls, and some very… used dishes in a sink. Tucker apologizes for the mess, ever since his wife… “ran out”? What’s the story there? Tucker fixes some tea, says that he’s pleased to meet Edward. And he’s more than happy to show his research. However, he does ask that if he’s showing some of his tricks, that Ed could show some as well. “It’s the code we live by - equivalent exchange.” EEC: 7 Outside, Nina’s playing with the dog, braids it a headband of flowers. Daw, that’s cute. Bit of a contrast with the inside, as it seems Ed’s told Tucker the story of their attempted Human Transmutation. Which begs the question, if Human Transmutation is taboo, what makes bio-alchemy different? In any case, Tucker lets the Elrics take a look at his laboratory- gah! Head in jar! Cerberus creature! Lots of other creepy stuff in jars! Guh, I’m not a big fan of biology, sorry. Tucker’s apologizing, saying he’s regarded as an authority on chimeras, but it hasn’t been going well that lately. What does that mean? They move on, reaching Tucker’s library and forget the creepy lab I wanna be there now. Look at all those books! The brothers dive into reading, and Roy says he’ll head back to work and have someone pick them up in the evening. But Ed doesn’t even hear Roy he’s so focused in the book. Tucker chuckles that they don’t even know they’re there anymore… Um, Tucker? What’s with the glasses push and grin? Like, you smiled in the lab at one point and I didn’t mention it, but now here’s a second smile and a glasses-push? Really getting some Bad Scientist vibes here. What’s going on? Uh, ok. Moving on, it’s later and Ed’s surrounded by piles of books now. Al’s over by a shelf with his own and- hey, it’s Nina! The little girl just poked her head around the aisle to look at the giant suit of armor, runs off when Al notices her. Then pokes her head back around to [Playful Music]. Ed breaks out his studies at hearing [childlike laughter], walks over to see Al giving Nina a piggyback ride. Daw. But of course Ed has to be a grump, yell at Al for playing horsie instead of- Dog! And Nina says Alexander wants to play too. Ed enters Dramatic Mode, saying that the dog’s bested him twice, but no more! And Ed races after the “mangy mutt”, while Nina just laughs. Late afternoon now, Havoc is telling the “chief” his ride has arrived. Ah, Havoc was sent to pick the brothers up. And looks like Ed wasn’t very successful against Alexander, he’s down for the count again. Havoc’s walking the boys out now, passes on a message to Tucker that “Assessment Day is coming soon”. What’s that? And why was Tucker so serious when he said that he knew? I’m guessing it’s like a checkup exam for SAs, to renew their certification. *Sigh* Look, Tucker? I’m getting a lot of mixed signals from you. First you made a creature that wished for death, but then you were a kind father, then you smirked and did a Glasses Push, then you made a dog pun, but now you’re all serious about “Assessment Day” and clutching the door handles? I’m not sure what I’m supposed to think about you. Nina asks what “Assessment Day” means, Tucker confirms SAs have to do a research report once a year to keep their certification. Last year Tucker didn’t get a very good evaluation, and unless he does something really impressive this year he won’t be a State Alchemist anymore. Nina proclaims that Tucker will do great, with how much he studies. But Tucker just [laughs nervously], says that he’ll try hard… ‘Or we’ll be left with nothing… again.’ Bad feelings keep gathering. Not sure what’s happening. [Sentimental Music] the next day, the Elrics are back and studying. Al’s talking with Nina about her mother, who left two years ago to live at her parents’ house. Why’d she leave? I mean, Tucker said she “ran off”, did they have an argument? Assuming about his studies or something, not sure why though. She was clearly with him long enough to have a child who I’m fairly certain is much older than two, so she would have been around for all the bio-alchemy. So what caused the split? Al remarks that it must be lonely, the two of them in a big house. But Nina’s happy with her daddy and Alexander. Although Tucker’s been studying in the lab all the time lately. Cramming for his exam? Ooh, flashback! Baby!Elric Brothers looking through a door - hey, I know that hair! That’s that blond ponytail guy from the intro, can’t see his face to confirm the beard but I recognize the ponytail! So he’s the absent Elric father? What’s his story? Ed just shut his book? Oh, good for you! He claims his shoulders are stiff, and when Al suggests he move around some Al goes and challenges Alexander again. Daw, props to you Ed, putting aside studies for Nina. That’s really nice of you. As [Goofy Happy Piano] music plays, Ed runs around with Nina chasing him on Alexander. But then he turns the tables, transmuting his arm into a sharp-toothed puppet (complete with the little spring of blond hair) as he chases them! Al serves as a slide for Nina, Alexander gets the drop on poor Ed again… lots of happiness and laughter outside. But inside… Tucker’s sitting at a table, head in his hands. What’s wrong? Why are you so worried about Assessment Day? You’ve done it before, right? And you’ve been studying like crazy. So what’s the problem? Back in Central, Hughes is wondering about Scar, why he’s targeting State Alchemists instead of easier targets like the military police. Armstrong thinks that the fact they’re State Alchemists is the reason he’s attacking them. But for what reason? Their pay, their status? Or failure to uphold their creed: “Alchemist, be thou for the people.” A concern that alchemists are supposed to be pillars of science and truth but are turning into weapons for the military. And there are many people who have not forgotten the role of State Alchemists in the Ishvalan Civil War. There’s Ishvale again, another mention of this mysterious conflict prior to the show. What’s the story there? It’s been mentioned so often I know it’s gotta come up soon, but right now I know next to nothing about it. What was the deal? An orderly interrupts the conversation, reports that a man with a large scar on his face was seen the night before at the train station. So he got away? Later that day, [Melancholy Music] at Tucker’s house, where he’s telling the Elrics about life before his State Alchemist certification. The family was poor, Mrs. Tucker couldn’t stand living like that, and we’ve got a picture of Tucker and the wife yelling at eachother while Nina cowers behind Alexander. Jeez. Tucker’s saying he can’t afford to fail the examination. Hmm, maybe you could ask the Elrics for help? I mean, they’re crazy-good at alchemy, I’m sure they could help with your studying. Or maybe take up Nina’s offer of her and Alexander growling at the test-givers until they say yes. Aw, Tucker just offered to play with Nina the next day. Yeah, there you go, spend some time with Nina, then study with the Elrics until you’re ready! The next day… it’s really cloudy. Why is it cloudy? Oh no. No no no. Do not do this to me, show. You do NOT make things go bad when they were so cute earlier. Do NOT do this. Ok, so what’s going to happen? Doorbell’s ringing, but no-one is answering. Al opened the door, called for Mr. Tucker, but nothing. Al and Ed are walking through the house, calling for Tucker and Nina, but nothing. And I mean nothing, there isn’t even any music playing right now. Door opens to to what no nonono nonononononononononono tucker is kneeling in front of something something with dog paws and long brown hair what did you do what the FUCK did you do “I did it boys. I finally did it.” A chimera that understand human speech. Ed. Al. What the hell are you both doing just standing there. Do you seriously not realize what’s going on. Do you realize where Nina Nina The thing is just repeating “That person… Ed… ward.” I don’t want to see this. “Big Brother Ed.” And the penny drops. Ed asks when Tucker first got his certification. He confirms it was two years ago. And his wife “left” two years ago too. Oh, don’t you act so surprised that Ed figured it out so quickly, you bastard! Ed, kick his teeth in! Did… did you really just say “this is how we progress” in regards to transmuting your dog and your own daughter to make this creature?! To maintain your fucking CERTIFICATION?! Human experimentation as a necessary process? For WHAT?! You’re comparing yourself to Edward, saying you’re the same? Far from it! He made a mistake trying to bring back a family member! You’ve used yours to get paid! Al just grabbed Ed’s arm, said that if he keeps the beating up that Tucker would die. I am really, really having a hard time seeing that as a bad thing right now. Oh. “Edward… no.” Not in front of his daughter. “Daddy, do you… hurt? Daddy?” I can’t. Al’s apologizing to… the chimera. Saying that with all their power, they can’t change Nina back. The chimera just asks if they can play. And Tucker just rants about how he “passed.” Riza and Roy are discussing the case. Ed and All are sitting on the steps outside of Central in the rain. Roy tells the Elrics that they are likely to see more cases like this in the future. And have to get their hands dirty. Then he asks if they’re going to shut down like this every time. Ed says that them being called dogs of the military, cursed as devils… it doesn’t matter, they’re still going to get their bodies back. They’re not devils. They’re not gods. They’re only human. They can’t… “even do anything to save one innocent little girl. So what good are we then?” … In a room, the chimera and Tucker are facing each other. Tucker is whining about how “no one’s capable of understanding me.” And then someone enters the room. It’s Scar. “You’re Shou Tucker, correct?” … … ...do it. But the chimera saw it. Scar walks towards the chimera. “God… hear me. Two human souls have just been returned to you. Please accept them into your loving arms. Please grant these poor, lost souls everlasting peace and salvation.” ...credits. “The rain pours down in East City. Still grief-stricken over the death of Nina, Ed and Al are attacked by the mysterious man, Scar. In a moment of crisis, Ed must make a desperate decision, while the life of his brother hangs in the balance. Next time, on Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood-” Episode 05: Rain of Sorrows”

[coolstudentsandwich]

Build (Fifth Day of Inktober)

You know, I’ve always been interested in building things. It’s pretty enjoyable

I also like seeing people who think they can be better than me. Like, what they could make that is better than my creations? I once made a very nice coat with many pockets and...

Wait, you didn’t came here for my autobiography, didn’t you? You want a story, right? 

I will give you a story, buddy. So listen...

Once there was a mage. And a human one at that. I know this just screams “totally overconfident, with a big ego”. And it was absolutly true.

This guy always thought he was the smartest person in the room. His magic skills were impressive, but some would argue that there are some other mages that can do a better job than him. Though, no one ever said that at loud.

So, this mage beliving he mastered his craft, and that he knew everything that was there to know about the world. What someone as amazing as him could do with his life?

He decided that he needs to do something nobody has done before. He wanted to join the gods. He saw himself amongst them, they were treating him as someone equal...

“I must do this!“ he said to himself, thinking where he should start.

He decided to start where all fools with no ideas start - I mean he started to pray to the gods for inspiration. For a quest. For a purpose.

The mage did that for many days. He started to think the gods didn’t hear him, but then, on the night of fullmoon, somebody came to him.

A Goddess. A Goddess of the Moon and Knowledge to be more precise. 

The mage couldn’t belive his own eyes. The legends said she only comes to the most wise. So I have no idea why did she came to him. Probably she got the wrong guy. 

Anyway, the mage was very happy. He asked her what is the reason of her visit.

“A challenge.” she said. “Make something to impress me.” after that she disappeared, as quickly as she appeared.

This few words, were enough for the mage. He was excited. A deity revealed herself to him. Only for a few moments, but for him all these moments were precious.

The mage started working almost immediately. At first he didn’t know what exacly he was making, but quickly he found the right idea - his own magical item. A so called “Artifact”. 

Artifacts are very interesting things. They can look like normal, everyday items, but they can also have great power.

He made a pretty nice cane - made from silver, decorated with gold and all sorts of jewels. He wanted to make shoot lightining, fire and ice. When the time came to enchance the thing, he discovered one sad fact of life.

The power the breath magic into things, is the domain of the divine. He couldn’t do this, no matter how much he tried.

And trust me, he tried a lot. He researched for a hundred days, while taking his cane to one priest after another, begging for a blessing, for anything. Sadly for him, nothing worked. His cane was only a pretty piece of junk, and the mage himself was an emotional wreck.

 After a lot of crying, and sadness, an ispiration came. He had an idea to build something else.

Something that also would grand him power and respect of the gods.

He decide to capture a demon - a so called “unholy being”. 

They say the demons are the very opposite of everything that the gods stand for. They are dangerous, unpredictable, and sometimes crazy.

And he decided to catch the most unpredictable, the craziest, and one of the most dangerous. Did I say this guy was a little too ambitious?

He made a perfect trap, that would be able to catch the demon and hold him in place untill the goddess of the moon came again.

But...

But there’s no but. The trap actually DID work. Crazy, right?

One night, when the demon came to the town where the mage lived, he captured him.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?“ shouted the demon. 

“I captured you!“ calmly responded the mage. “Now, before you say anything else, that you won’t trick me, in any way. No lies.“

The mage knew that demon was famous for tricking people, so made his trap in a very special way - the demon must listen to him, when he’s trapped.

“I promise.“ The demon responded immediately.

The mage was kinda suprised. Why the demon was so eager to agree? He thought they were unable to be so nice.

“Is this some sort of trick?“ he asked, ready for anything.

“Of course not!“ the demon answered. He had a big, wide smile, and big orange eyes that glowed in the dark of the night. “Why are you asking?“

“I... I want to know the secret to your powers!“ the mage whispered. He knew that what he was doing was very risky. Seeking the favor of the gods, and the power of the demons?

“Oh, there’s a lot of secrets to my powers... Which one do you want to know?“ the demon smiled nicely to the mage.

“How do you... use your powers? Do you have a ritual before you use them? Or something?“ the mage was kinda scared. He wasn’t sure what demon could do.

“Oh! No one ever asked me that! Come closer, and I give you the answer!“ the demon said.

The mage decide to listen to demons words. Later he transported the demon (still in his trap) to his home, where they would wait for the goddess to arrive.

The mage wasn’t sure what to do. On one hand, the ritual sounded promising, on the other maybe it was too good to be true? He thought about it for hours.

Finally, his desire to make enchanted items won. He still thought about being unable to enchance the can he made. He wanted more power. This was his only need.

The demon told him all the steps to make a special potion, he always drank before working with magic items. The mage followed the recipe very carefully, because who knew what wrong step could do? 

After some time he made a potion, with a weird smell. The mage didn’t even to stop and think, before he drank the entire bottle.

In one short moment, his body started to relax. He didn’t feel any pay. Actually, he felt a little happy. 

That is, before the potion send him to sleep. 

It was a very nice, peaceful sleep, like no other. He forgot all the stress of living while he was asleep.

But when he woke up, he saw something terrible. 

The demon escaped from his trap like it was nothing. There were some witnesses saying that he just walk out of it.

The mage was devastated it looked like his trap didn’t work at all! The demon was just playing with him. And what’s worse - the goddess didn’t even came. Not that day. Not tommorow. Not ever.

I saw him a few days after that in a library. He actually told me his whole lifestory, while crying. 

I don’t like arrogant people, but this guy looked very sad. “He tricked me! How he could trick ME?” he repeated over, and over again.

“Well“ I said. “Relaxing before working seems like something anyone would like to do...“

He told me to get out. 

This was very rude. I was still reading that one book about cats.

When I was leaving the library, I still thought about the goddess of the moon. Did she really show up to him so he could impress her, and join the gods? Or did she just wanted her mortal toy to make her a toy?

When I came back to my home, I decided to try the recipe from the mage. He still remembered it in all the details.

I cannot judge the demons action nor choices he took in life, but I can say one thing about him - he knows how to make a very good drink.