#and i get that not every companion needs to meet such a fate (classic had its companions move on to new lives after the doc) but five

[joeeatsdvds]

they’re talking about the finale for this coming series being “huge” and “devastating” which i hope that means ruby gets killed

i love ruby sunday i really do but we’re long overdue a companion suffering a devastating fate again

[denimbex1986]

'Sixty years is a long time for any TV show to be on the air. For a show to deliver quality episodes over the course of six decades is basically a miracle. But Doctor Who, the BBC’s long-running TV series, which celebrates its 60th anniversary this year, has managed to make great sci-fi TV across the decades.

Since the premiere of the very first serial, “An Unearthly Child,” on Nov. 23, 1963, Doctor Who has tested the limits of what sci-fi TV can achieve — and shown just how much can be done with tin foil, a plunger, and a dream...

60. “THE IMPOSSIBLE PLANET/THE SATAN PIT”

The Doctor fights the Devil on a planet orbiting a black hole — you won’t get a better elevator pitch than that. But “The Impossible Planet” two-parter is more than a family-friendly riff on Event Horizon; this claustrophobic space adventure is a barnburner that finds time to muse on spirituality and religion while delivering some extra-spooky possession scenes and one of the best new monsters of Doctor Who. — Hoai-Tran Bui

51. “GRIDLOCK”

Despite his reputation for campy high jinks, Russell T. Davies is perhaps one of the most cynical Doctor Who writers, frequently depicting humanity as doomed to repeat its mistakes. “Gridlock” is the perfect marriage of both of Davies’ comedic and cynical tendencies: a weird sci-fi episode about a planet perpetually stuck in traffic, through which the Doctor must navigate cat people, nudists, and killer crabs. But all of this is a thin veneer for the tragic fate that humanity has dealt itself. — Hoai-Tran Bui

48. “SOUND OF DRUMS/LAST OF THE TIMELORDS

Season 3 is when Doctor Who realized it could deliver season finales that actually had ramifications. There’s an entire year in between these two episodes where The Master, in the form of Prime Minister Harold Saxon, has ruled over the Earth introducing it to an alien species known as the Toclafane. There are grandfather paradoxes, callbacks, and the Doctor’s most underrated companion, Martha Jones (Freema Agyeman), making a decision for herself — each the shot in the arm the show needed to grow to new heights. — Dais Johnston

47. “THE UNICORN AND THE WASP”

When the 10th Doctor (David Tennant), Donna (Catherine Tate), and Agatha Christie (Fenella Woolgar) end up in a whodunit episode, the only thing that makes the proceeding even more fun is the presence of a massive alien wasp. Come for the hilarious 1920s romp, but stay for some of the funniest David Tennant-Catherine Tate comedy in the entire show. — Ryan Britt

41. “THE STOLEN EARTH/JOURNEY’S END

As Shakespeare said, “Journeys end with lovers meeting,” but for every meeting in the Season 4 two-part finale, there’s a goodbye. There are happy moments (the TARDIS being piloted by multiple pilots as intended, The DoctorDonna), sad moments (Donna having her memory erased, the beach farewell with Rose), and, because it’s Doctor Who, baffling moments (Martha is married to Mickey now, I guess). — Dais Johnston

39. “THE END OF TIME”

It simply does not get more epic than “The End of Time.” The two-part special sent off David Tennant in the only way it could: by pulling out all the stops and leaning hard on the nostalgia. The Time Lords are back, The Master is back, and the best sci-fi trope ever gets employed: an ominous prophecy that reads “he will knock four times.” The conclusion is a farewell tour for the 10th Doctor that had us all bawling. Little did we know he would be back before we knew it. — Dais Johnston

34. “ARMY OF GHOSTS/DOOMSDAY”

The Doctor’s two biggest enemies, the Daleks and the Cybermen, both invade Earth in this two-parter that brings a parallel Earth front and center. While the plot is thrilling, this episode will always be remembered for its final scene, the goodbye between Rose Tyler and The Doctor as Rose is forced to live in the parallel Earth to save the world. — Dais Johnston

23. “TURN LEFT”

“Turn Left” may as well be titled “It’s a Wonderful Regeneration,” as it explores an alternate world where Donna Noble never met the Doctor and he died during the events of “Runaway Bride,” when they first met. The dystopia the world falls to is fascinating to watch, fitting in observations of fascism in between alternate-reality high jinks. — Dais Johnston

19. “THE FIRES OF POMPEII”

“The Fires of Pompeii” is one of the most influential episodes of Doctor Who, not for the plot but for the cast. Peter Capaldi, best known as the 12th Doctor, plays an Ancient Roman patriarch. Karen Gillan, best known as Amy Pond, plays a mystical cult member. But this episode is a masterclass in one of the series’ most tenuous conceits: that sometimes, a moment is fixed in time and you end up in Pompeii on Volcano Day, unable to change anything. — Dais Johnston

18. “THE GIRL IN THE FIREPLACE”

Basically, the episode that solidified Steven Moffat as one of the great modern writers of Doctor Who. From the first moment, in which Madame de Pompadour calls for the Doctor’s help, to the final revelation of what the clockwork robots really want, this episode is flawless modern Who. And yes, especially that part where the 10th Doctor (David Tennant) pretends to be drunk. — Ryan Britt

16. “HUMAN NATURE/FAMILY OF BLOOD

The monsters are secondary to the fascinating ethical dilemma “Human Nature/Family of Blood” presents: Is a human being real if he’s just a collection of false memories? Featuring one of David Tennant’s best performances, this two-parter endears us so quickly to its period drama setting that when the Doctor Who sci-fi finally enters the story, it feels as tragic as John Smith’s fate. — Hoai-Tran Bui

9. “MIDNIGHT”

Doctor Who does its best Stephen King with “Midnight,” an episode where the Doctor fights an unseen monster that possesses a passenger, causing her to repeat every word the others say. Despite its blowhard stock characters and claustrophobic setting, “Midnight” is one of Doctor Who’s most terrifying hours, and Davies’ most sparse and tensely staged script. — Hoai-Tran Bui

8. “THE DAY OF THE DOCTOR”

Steven Moffat pulled off a bit of a miracle with “The Day of the Doctor,” the 50th-anniversary special that saw the 10th and 11th Doctors meeting a newly invented Doctor played by John Hurt. But despite its big ambitions (the Time War onscreen for the first time!) and obligations to the show (Tom Baker’s cameo!), “The Day of the Doctor” manages to be a rip-roaring, fully satisfying adventure all of its own. — Hoai-Tran Bui

7. “THE WATERS OF MARS

What happens when the fun-loving Doctor goes too far? With “The Waters of Mars,” David Tennant proves his Doctor was a hero on the edge of becoming a villain, depending on who was watching. This brilliant twist of perspective is a high point in Tennant’s era, and Lindsay Duncan’s guest performance as Adelaide Brooke brings the Doctor down to Mars. — Ryan Britt

4. “SILENCE IN THE LIBRARY/FOREST OF THE DEAD

“Hey, who turned out the lights?!” Moffat turns another primal fear (why are we afraid of the dark?) into one of the show’s most terrifying monsters with the shadow-dwelling Vashta Nerada. But the “Silence in the Library” two-parter doesn’t excel just because of its spooky, abstract monsters; it’s the episode’s dealings with transhumanism and star-crossed love (along with the introduction of Alex Kingston’s scene-stealing River Song) that elevate it to one of the show’s greatest achievements. — Hoai-Tran Bui

2. “BLINK”

Inventing a new Doctor Who monster is hard. But this unforgettable Steven Moffat episode forced us all to fear old statues everywhere. A flawless episode with a pristine presentation of paradox at its core, “Blink” makes time-travel fiction look easy. The guest cast is perfect, especially Carey Mulligan as Sally Sparrow. Also, no other episode on this list created an instantly popular and enduring Doctor Who catchphrase: wibbly wobbly timey wimey! — Ryan Britt...'

[another-rogue-trevelyan]

If you liked Dragon Age Masterlist

If you’re anything like me, you’re into niche market, high fantasy, single player RPGs, preferably with a historical setting and romance options. So if you’re looking for a new game, here I am with some suggestions!

Sorted by studio:

Bethesda:

Oblivion (2006)

“In the shadow of evil, a hero will rise from the ashes of a fallen empire. The gates have been opened, and the battle has begun. Only one thing can save the world from Mehrunes Dagon and the demonic hordes of Oblivion. The true heir of the Septim line must be found and restored to the Imperial throne. The fate of the world rests in the hands of one. Find him, and shut the jaws of Oblivion.”

The Elder Scrolls series were my gateway into RPGs and hold a special place in my heart. Oblivion features a wide open world, immersive combat, and the ability to customize race, class, and gender.

Skyrim (2011)

“The Empire of Tamriel is on the edge. The High King of Skyrim has been murdered. Alliances form as claims to the throne are made. In the midst of this conflict, a far more dangerous, ancient evil is awakened. Dragons, long lost to the passages of the Elder Scrolls, have returned to Tamriel. The future of Skyrim, even the Empire itself, hangs in the balance as they wait for the prophesized Dragonborn to come; a hero born with the power of The Voice, and the only one who can stand amongst the dragons.”

I have sunk so many hours into this game and still have not experienced all there is to experience. Just like Oblivion, Skyrim offers the ability to customize your character and find a play style that suits you. A huge open world offers tons of opportunity for exploration and questing. You could play this game many, many hours and not even touch the main quest if you wanted to.

BioWare:

Mass Effect Legendary Edition (2021)

Just do it. Just fucking do it I’m still sobbing I’ve never had a game wreck me in this way. I might possibly like it more than Dragon Age which feels sacrilegious to say but it was so good. You follow Commander Shepard (customizable) for three whole games and the choices have serious consequences. Also, romance. Truthfully this might be the most well written storyline I’ve ever seen in a video game. Also, same studio as Dragon Age.

CD Projekt:

The Witcher III: Wild Hunt (2015)

I’ll let the website description speak for itself, but Witcher III was good enough that I didn’t mind being forced to play as a man (those who know me know that I exclusively prefer to play women and often dislike games where I can’t do so)! The characters that make up this story are captivating and suck you into their world, leaving you with some tough choices to make. Also, bonus points for romance! (Yen is one of my all time favorite characters, Triss never stood a chance for me. Sorry Triss fans 😂)

Larian:

Divinity Original Sin 2 (2017)

“The Divine is dead. The Void approaches. And the powers lying dormant within you are soon to awaken. Choose your role in a BAFTA-winning story, and explore a world that reacts to who you are, and the choices you make. With five races to choose from, and an adventure playable solo or as a party of up to four, lay waste to an oppressive order in a world afraid of magic. Become the God the world so desperately needs.”

Full disclosure, I have not finished playing this one yet and will update when I do, but what I’ve played so far has been great! A classic, turn-based RPG that allows you a wide range of character customization. I find this game incredibly satisfying to be a rogue (my preferred class) because it lets me live my dream of throwing knives at people. Also, romance!

Baldur’s Gate III beta (2020)

“An ancient evil has returned to Baldur's Gate, intent on devouring it from the inside out. The fate of Faerûn lies in your hands. Alone, you may resist. But together, you can overcome. Gather your party.”

Fair warning, as of my most recent update to this post (March 30th, 2021) this game is still in a beta phase, which means it is NOT complete and has aspects that are missing, glitchy, or subject to change. With that being said, I’m so obsessed. It’s so, so good already and is only getting better. Another wide open world to explore with a group of companions with strong and sometimes clashing personalities, choices are abundant in this game and will affect how your party members think of you. This game so far gives me the feeling that choices are complicated and aren’t always easy to tell which is morally right, which I personally love. Also, I can be a sarcastic ass with a good heart, which is always fun. Astarion basically owns me now, but if you can resist him there are plentiful other romance choices as well! Customization is already a wider range than I’ve seen in most RPGs and they haven’t even finished the character creator yet, which has me SO excited for the finished product. Also - good hair?!??!! I love it!

Lionhead:

Fable III (2010)

“Lead a revolution to take control of Albion, fight alongside your people, and experience love and loss while preparing to defend the kingdom against a looming threat. Your choices as ruler will lead to consequences felt across the entire land.”

I’ll be honest, this one isn’t my favorite on the list, but was good enough to still make it! This game allows you to choose between playing as the prince or the princess on a quest to save your kingdom from itself, and then a greater threat as well. The game takes place in a kingdom loosely modeled after industrial England, and what did score it some major points were (SPOILER WARNING - skip the purple if you don’t want to know!) that the last act of the game lets you play as the monarch, where you are forced to make some tough decisions in order to save your kingdom. It is very easy to back yourself into a corner, pinch pennies in order to fund the army and save the kingdom, but make your citizens hate you because of it. You’re gonna have to be very, very careful, which is something I did really enjoy about this game. (I’ve heard Fable II was better, and that’s also on my list to try, will update in the future!)

Nintendo:

Fire Emblem Three Houses (2019)

“War is coming to the continent of Fódlan. Here, order is maintained by the Church of Seiros, which hosts the prestigious Officer’s Academy within its headquarters. You are invited to teach one of its three mighty houses, each comprised of students brimming with personality and represented by a royal from one of three territories. As their professor, you must lead your students in their academic lives and in turn-based, tactical RPG battles wrought with strategic, new twists to overcome. Which house, and which path, will you choose?”

Currently playing this one and I’m so addicted! This one is slightly outside of my usual taste but it has made me interested in playing more games like it. The player controls Byleth (you can rename them if you wish), who becomes a professor of combat and battle tactics despite their young age at a monastery and finds themself in charge of a house of students. Battles are tactics and strategy based and classes are highly customizable. I sunk like 30 hours into this game in the last three days. I won’t say more about the plot to avoid spoilers, but it’s been a ton of fun and also has slow burn romance

Spiders:

Greedfall (2019)

This game destroyed my soul in the best way and when I finished it I immediately started a new game to play it again. You play as Lady or Lord De Sardet, Legate of the Congregation of Merchants and effectively the right hand of your cousin, who has been appointed governor of your new colony on the island. While I enjoy the combat in this game, which allows you the choice between one handed, two handed, magic, and pistols or rifles (save that ammo for when you really need it!), this game focuses heavily on diplomacy and relations. Be careful what information you give to whom and how you treat every decision. The enemies you make early on might be people you need on your side later. I also love that choices aren’t always clearly right or wrong, and often are more complicated than they first appear. Even the best intentions can sometimes go awry.

Ubisoft:

Assassin’s Creed, Syndicate (2015)

“London, 1868. In the heart of the Industrial Revolution, lead your underworld organization and grow your influence to fight those who exploit the less privileged in the name of progress”

Another one that I’ll admit, I haven’t finished, and is definitely the odd one out on the list because it’s set in Victorian England, but I was having fun with what I had played so far before Greedfall distracted me. In this game, you alternate between controlling twins Jacob and Evie Frye as you explore and liberate London while meeting famous historical figures and running a gang on the side.

Assassin’s Creed, Origins (2017)

“Ancient Egypt, a land of majesty and intrigue, is disappearing in a ruthless fight for power. Unveil dark secrets and forgotten myths as you go back to the one founding moment: The Origins of the Assassin’s Brotherhood.”

In the spirit of honesty, I haven’t started this one yet, but I am so confident that I’m gonna love it when I do that it’s here anyway. I’ve purchased it, and will get to it soon, I swear! In the meantime, I wanted to put it here because I’m confident some of you will enjoy it. Will come back with a review once I know more.

Assassin’s Creed, Odyssey (2018)

“Write your own epic odyssey and become a legendary Spartan hero in Assassin’s Creed® Odyssey, an inspiring adventure where you must forge your destiny and define your own path in a world on the brink of tearing itself apart. Influence how history unfolds as you experience a rich and ever-changing world shaped by your decisions.”

Y’all this game owned my soul for a while. I’ve sunk so many hours into it. You have a choice to play as either Kassandra or Alexios and navigate the wonders of Ancient Greece. The world is stunning, the choices are important, and this game took a big step for the assassins creed series in becoming a true RPG. I can’t recommend this one enough, you should absolutely go for it!

Assassin’s Creed, Valhalla (2020)

“Become Eivor, a legendary Viking warrior. Explore England's Dark Ages as you raid your enemies, grow your settlement, and build your political power in the quest to earn a place among the gods in Valhalla.”

This game is brand new, hot off the press, and has already been a massive hit. I have only JUST started playing it and am about an hour in, but so far so good! It’s here on my recommendations list because of its wild popularity and because I’ve already enjoyed other games in this series, so I feel confident that some of my fellow dragon age fans will enjoy it. Will update again once I get further in.

Other games on my To Be Played list (otherwise known as things I don’t want to recommend because I know almost nothing about them but will update here after I know more)

-Pillars of Eternity 1 and 2

-Horizon Zero Dawn

-Assassin’s Creed: Black Flag

-Fable 1 and 2

-Kingdoms of Amalur

-Breath of the Wild

-Crimson Desert (not out yet but I’m intrigued)

[anotherbeingsworld]

The Last Seconds of Fate

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC (Casey Valentine) 

Summary: This is my attempt on a rewrite for the diamond scene in chapter 11 with Bryce , but.. I kinda put it in my own twist. 

Inspo: Before You Go - Lewis Capaldi

Warnings: mentions of dying. Besides that, none.

A/N: It’s back to back fics for now, I just hand in my first ever assignment and why not a celebratory fic djdkdkdk! I may be busy in days to come, but.. I will try my very best to write more! Writing has been an outlet for me this year, and it definitely made me very happy! I hope all of you are enjoying it so far, thank you for all the sweet comments on my past fics! It has been an honour, and I really hope you enjoyed this one too! Special thanks to @fantasyoverreality98​ , @mvalentine​ and @bratzlahela​ for assuring me about this fic! I wasnt feeling much confident about it, but.. I feel proud of it! It doesn’t follow the scene from the book, it is somehow... my own way of writing it! I am very terrified about this, since I don’t want to mess it up. JSDHSJD, enough babbling! Enjoy!! 

Tags:  @bitchloveskcbaseball​​​ , @storyofmychoices​​​ @jaxsmutsuo​​​ , @mvalentine​​​ , @princess-geek​ , @lahellacute​​​ , @kacie-0156-deactivated20200905​​ , @this-person-is-busy​​​ , @annekebbphotography​​​ , @brycelahel​​​, @mrsbhandari​​​ , @dcbbw​​​ , @choicessa​​​ , @choices-confessions , @aylamwrites​​​ , @fantasyoverreality98​​​ , @drakewalker04​​​ , @baltersome​​​ , @thecordoniandiaries​​​ , @thundergom​​​  @starrystarrytrouble​​​, @ohramsey​​​ , @kelseaaa​​​  , @rookie-ramsey​​​ , @bratzlahela​​​ , @ohvamsey​​ , @choicesficwriterscreations​ , @soft-for-drake​ , @lalizah​

LINK TO MY MASTERLIST 

The room was quiet, as it was only Casey and Bryce. Both of them are laying down on the hospital bed, which is too small for their liking. But, nothing ever stop them before. The way his arms were wrapped around her waist. Beneath the suit, as it gave her a sense of comfort and homey feeling inside of her. Somehow, being in his arms felt like being back at home, where she felt safe from the monsters and stories that can be seen on the other side of it all.

It was them against the world, time, and all the forces in between. The day went by as a traumatic experience for both of them, a day they never expected to see. It felt as if the universe is giving them a sign, somehow that life can be very short for both of them. Tomorrow will never be guaranteed, as long as we learn how to enjoy the present.

‘If it was my last night, do you have anything you want to tell me?’ Casey started, earning a look of sadness in his face. An expression that wasn’t well known to the scalpel jockey. It was new, every day she realizes, there was always something new about one Bryce Lahela. The tricks he had on his sleeve that manage to blow her mind, he never failed to be the reason she was smiling every day.

‘Casey…’ The softness in his voice made her heart soothe, as the longing to be with him after all this time.

‘Answer me, please…’ She took his hands in hers, as she lets out a squeeze. His eyes soften, a sad expression was plastered on his face followed by a long silence. Somehow, he was constructing an answer in his mind, and honestly. He can’t think of anything, not even an answer crosses his mind, until he suddenly blurts it out.

‘I love you.’

The words left his mouth, a spontaneous act that he never saw it coming. Bryce felt a pang of nervousness, as the 8 letters left his mouth in a sudden manner. Casey was speechless, as they never made it official, but… deep down, she knows every interaction they had, every kiss, hug, moments they had together was better than anything in this world. It felt like a rare presence that she never expected, but didn’t know she needed it.

Love. It is subjective, as everyone will fall in love, out of love, and maybe not at all. The feeling of comfort of love plays a huge role in everyone’s life. Some say it can be a motivator, and maybe a goal to foreseen at the end of the road; marriage. Or, maybe it's just the feeling of being free with that certain someone, who can lift your spirits up with a snap of a finger. But, being there with Bryce. It wasn’t any of those, it was the feeling of being where we were supposed to be.

She always counted on the odds, reeling on the what if’s as medicine was never about the odds. It was a balance of everything as their goal at the end was to find a cure, in order to make life happier at the end of the day. The love of it all made her realize that this field of career, was what she always wanted. And, everything in her life had to happen which leads her to this moment, where she almost died. Or, maybe she will.

‘What about you?’ He brings up a similar question, as the last three words from his mouth are playing like a broken record in her mind.

‘Me?”

He nods slowly, as he was somewhat curious as they were wrapped around each other’s arms with their own companion, the dark night sky as the time was somehow counting down slowly, as maybe it was her final time being in his arms.

‘I am happy to spend the last night of my entire life with you.’ The words felt like vomit coming from her mouth, a truth that she didn’t know she needed.

‘…It’s not your last night Casey, you’ll be here tomorrow. Waking up happily here, as we presume our life forward with each other.’ Bryce’s voice started to broke slowly, an act that she didn’t see coming.

‘Bryce…’ She gazes into his eyes, somewhat it looked different than the ones she used to see at their early walks to the hospital, or when he scores a surgery. It looked somber, somehow the hopefulness in his eyes was absent leaving a sense of fear and dread that was clouding it all.

He strokes her cheeks, somehow examining it after all this time. The way he looked at you, with a sense of fear in him, as your tragedy cast a storm above his head. Despite being in the hazmat suit, it didn’t stop him from leaving warmth on your cold fingers, stroking it slowly and gently with the similar feeling that he always leave you. A breeze of intensity, and the calmness of the ocean.

In a matter of seconds, the tears in your eyes fall. A sudden reaction that is never expected, it felt like a chemical reaction at that moment as the moments in the past circulates with her.

‘It will never be the last night, this is… you are gonna be alright. You will be alright.’ He strokes her hair, as he somehow is memorizing the felt of her smooth hair, it was a little habit of his. It was a sudden reaction, a way of affection.

‘...how do you know that? I don’t feel like it, it felt like the end; I didn’t get to do anything as this is the final place I am gonna be before I died.’ Casey keeps on talking, as Bryce couldn’t hold it in anymore.

‘No, you are not dying tonight or any night. This world is not ready to say goodbye to you, hell… I don’t think I will ever see the world without you in it. You are staying here, and I-..’ He stops himself, taking a deep breath as she sat on the hospital bed. A discourage look on her face says it all, somehow he has a way of looking past her façade, and the way her eyes cast the sense of worry, he knew something was wrong. He stood up from the bed, making his way around towards her.

He is standing in front of her, as Casey’s head is down. He took her hands in his, and squeeze it lightly capturing her attention once more.

It was silence in the room, the sounds of machines were slowly heard in the background as she started to humming. She loved to sing, but it was always just a hobby; since she had become one of the usual for karaoke night at Donahue’s with Bryce which is one of her favorite memories with him.

So, before you go,

Her voice bounces through the walls, as the sealed room made it much louder. The tears started to fall in between, as the news of Danny and Bobby made her heart cry in despair. They don’t deserve this, they don’t deserve to be the one who had to say goodbye.

Was there something I could've said to make your heartbeat better?

Her eyes gaze into his, a strong inferior behind those emeralds, as an attempt to kept herself together.

If only I'd have known you had a storm to weather

She knew she could do better, she knew she can stop them all by pushing them all away. Giving her a chance to do something once, as Rafael’s state floats in her mind, torturing her. Seeing him that way, as the storm hits her once more, where she stood there hoping that it was going to be her.

Her voice was cut off with a sob, as Bryce leans forward. Their foreheads meet through the glass of the hazmat suit, she wanted to give up. He doesn’t want to let her go, as time is the only essence they had left.

The silence of the night, made his heart leap in nervousness, her heartbeat was still there as she finally falls herself into a deep slumber. The quiet killed him, as he doesn’t want to close his eyes. The fear of her being taken away from him very soon made him wept in silence. She looked peaceful, as the day finally gets slower, where it felt like time was never moving at all. Right now, there was nothing he could do. A soft hummed was heard during the early hours of the day, as it was almost time.

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

‘I will always, honestly, truly, completely love you.’ Was one of her favorite quotes from a movie called; Love, Rosie. She told him about her love for it, as they were having a sleepover of their own, a classic tale of second chances and fate.

Fate was sensitive subject, as he always lived his life in a flow. A path that leads him to the unknown, but when it comes to Casey. Someone who waltzed into his life, as a colleague turns to be more, the flow seems to be a back-up plan instead. Seeing herself in that position, made him wonder if fate would ever turn around for her, or for them.

The lights brought him back to life, as the diagnostics team along with the doctors from Mass Kenmore made their way into the room. A pleasant look on their faces gave him a beacon of hope, a small chance for her to fight.

Ethan walks toward him, a small nod was given in his way. Bryce glances at Casey’s figure who looks peacefully asleep, as a brink of tears falls once more. She is going to make it.

‘We will save her Bryce.’ His voice is slow, not wanting to wake her up. Bryce nods with a head full of thoughts and happiness, that he suddenly pulled Dr. Ramsey into an engulfed hug. A sense of adrenaline was splashed out, as he felt himself smiling all the way through it all.

‘Thank you.’

Ethan just nods, a small smile was hinted on his face. Knowing that he would lose a friend as well, during it all. Both of them stayed that way before it was time to test it out. The moment where all of their lives gonna change once again.

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

The smile on her face, as the doors were opened to them. The gratefulness on her face, as she ran into his arms. His arms securely around her waist, as she survived. She did it.

She survived, and she is not going to wait anymore.

‘I love you too.’

THE END.

A/N: Heyyy, so I hope all of you enjoyed it! I am very terrified but, hey... i am very proud of it aswell! Thank you so much for reading, and I will see ya soon!! <3 

[tae-cup]

.hamartia. ‘Part 6,

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (f) x Taehyung (?)

Genre: Mafia!Au, Fluff, Angst (Mostly angst oopsies) I DO NOT CONDONE BEHAVIOR DISPLAYED IN THIS, PLEASE IT’S FICTION AND DON’T DO STUPID THINGS THANK YOU

Plot: Y/N is a skilled, well, torturer, though you don’t like to call yourself that; it makes what you do too real. When mafia boss Yoongi wants information or wants a hostage to suffer, you step in. However, one fateful day you are thrown Taehyung, another person who does your line of work. You need answers, he is determined not to give them to you. That’s when you try...a different approach, and Yoongi is not pleased.

Rating: TV-MA

WARNINGS: YO IF YOU’RE NOT COOL WITH SUBTLE BI AGENDAS THEN I’M SORRY THIS IS NOT THE PLACE FOR YOU, Blood, torture, mafia things (ya know?), drugs alcohol, sadistic tendencies, a fundamentally flawed main character (I’m sorry i’m just writing myself pretty much), assault, harassment, stalking (not bad), romance (somehow), Maybe stockholm syndrome???

Word Count: 3k Words

A/N: I don’t know how I feel about this chapter but I sorta like it.

Other:

Masterlist

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Next

Hamartia

~ The word hamartia refers to a flaw or mistake that leads to a fictional character's downfall. Classical tragedies revolve around the main character's hamartia, the tragic flaw that sets a series of disastrous events in motion. Achilles' heel was his hamartia – his fatal flaw.

-

-

“What do you mean they’re gone.” Yoongi never raised his voice, but there was a steel to his tone. 

“We searched everywhere on the property, hyung.” Jungkook pleaded. 

“No. No they can’t have just up and left, now could they?” Yoongi stayed absolutely still, not willing to give away the flame broiling inside. He still cared for you. Of course he did. He couldn’t bare to see you in pain. He left...for you. The man believed it was for the best. He just hadn’t expected you to then throw yourself into your work. 

“N-no.” Jungkook stammered. The poor boy had already been traumatized enough after seeing Mark being shot in front of him. 

“And it’s boss, to you.” Yoongi continued, his words cutting deep into Jungkook. They had known each other for so long. They grew up together, yet here Yoongi was, souring and severing the relationship he held so dear. With striking clarity he realized he did this a lot; pushed people away. He was wrong before. He was the selfish one. Self-preservation was the issue. 

Jungkook flinched at the man’s words. Jimin stood quietly in the corner, heart breaking at the sight before him. He hadn’t known the two as long as they had known each other, but that didn’t stop him from feeling pain for the ties he saw being cut. The short man still didn’t move to intervene the fight beginning. 

“I know you care for them, but what if they left voluntarily?” Jungkook pondered, instantly regretting the words as they tumbled out of his mouth. Yoongi instantly narrowed his eyes. He leaned forward and place his elbows on the desk, interlocking his fingers to rest his chin on them. 

“And why would they do that?” 

Silence. 

God awful silence. 

The younger male made the wise decision to remain silent. Yoongi slowly stood, pressing his palms into the table as a power play. 

“Find them. You’re dismissed.” He said with a wave of his hand. The young boy scurried off, seemingly wanting to leave the office as fast as possible. 

Only Jimin remained. He didn’t move from his spot in the corner as the silent observer. He watched Yoongi rake his hand through his hair. Then the dark haired man called out to the silver haired one. 

“Jimin, sit.” He sighed. Jimin nodded and swiftly took a seat. The tension from earlier lingered, but it wasn’t quite as intense. “I like that about you.” 

Jimin looked up slightly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His hands subconsciously went to his hair. Yoongi scoffed at the action. 

“Not your hair, dumbass.” Then he took a seat as well. “I mean, you follow directions well. You never do what you’re not supposed to and you keep your head down, not asking questions.” 

The other male’s ears pricked up at the sound of his companion’s words. He smiled slightly to himself, but tried his best to keep a neutral face. He just dipped his head in a swift nod. Yoongi looked at him, intrigued, before continuing. 

“I don’t trust Kook to find them whatsoever.” He addressed Jungkook with a casualness that seemed odd given the earlier fight. “So, I’m also sending you to find them. We have some men tied up downstairs that may have answers and since my darling Y/N is missing, you will need to take the task of getting their information.” 

Jimin swallowed thickly. He realized that maybe he was the monster between You and him. After all, he had been in this business far longer than you and he had yet to lose his head. Maybe that’s why Yoongi trusted him without a doubt. 

“Of course, boss.” 

-

-

“You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” You said, a teasing tone at the back of your throat. Taehyung sat in front of you. For the past 10 minutes, he had just stared at you, not speaking a word. And you tried to as well, but it was hard to with your swollen eye. The not speaking issue wasn’t really an issue as you had dealt with it for months. 

“I trusted you. You betrayed me so easily.” You sneered. You hated him. Hated him. But you just couldn’t get the words out. “And I thought you were a man of honor.” With that, he let a laugh escape. 

“You really think there are men of honor in our business, Y/N? I have-”

“Killed a thousand people, blah blah blah. Haven’t we all?” You rolled your eyes. “Come on, I know the intimidation tactic.” You groaned. His eyes grew darker. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I can and will if necessary. And I may not be a man of honor but,” He turned around, seemingly not wanting to meet your gaze. He stopped himself short, remembering the audio was still running. The man sighed and turned back around. If you had seen his eyes in the short in the short time he had turned around, you would see him break. He knew you were observant and he didn’t want you to see him like that. Taehyung wasn’t honorable in any sense, but he wasn’t a complete monster. He had grown an attachment to you; you, who was so complicated it made his head spin. 

“But?” You frowned. His eyes swept the room. Then he leaned in. 

“Please pretend I’m saying something nasty.” His breath fanning against your neck and his proximity made your heart race. You gave the slightest of nods in agreement. “Okay, I didn’t want to turn you in.” 

“You bitch.” You played along. He paid you no mind. 

“We were caught, but I realized I couldn’t help you out of here if I was also incapacitated.” He mumbled against your skin. You felt your breath hitch. Was he telling the truth? Was he playing a game with you? 

“Fuck off.” You spewed out. Then you whispered back with the same ferocity, “Why haven’t you gotten me out then.”

“I had some complications.” 

You looked at him questioningly. He waved you off. He knew he had to hurt you in some way to appease them. So he went with a good ‘ole sucker punch to your fucking stomach. Of course it didn’t please him to see you in pain and he shot you a pained look, one that you couldn’t see from how quickly your eyes closed in shock.  

You gasped for air as he left. This man really just promised to help me escape and then punched me in the fucking stomach. You hissed to yourself. What an ass. 

-

-

“Why do you push people away?” 

Your eyes snapped to Taehyung as he sat, once more, in front of you. 

“I’m not sure what you mean.” 

“Yes, you do.” he could tell from your instinctual reaction. You looked around, eyes sweeping the room again, as if the walls would somehow disappear. They didn’t, obviously, and you decided that there was no point in hiding. You weren’t sure what Taehyung’s intentions were. He seemed like he was trying to get to know you, like how you had approached him, except he made the mistake of also letting his comrades in to have fun torturing you for information. Luckily, you were a lot more soulless than you let on and you managed to endure the pain. Blood dribbled from your mouth from the earlier beating. You spat this blood onto the floor. 

“Like hell I would tell you.” You shuddered. You knew you were close to breaking. It had been weeks. Yoongi probably didn’t spare you a thought, the heartless bastard, Maybe you were a quick fuck for him and that was all.

“You have nothing left to lose.” He shrugged, reading you easily. He had gotten better at this, slowly worming his way into your mind. 

“You’re right, but I still have some sense of sanity.” Not much. 

“I don’t think you’re a bad person.” He laid a soft hand on your knee. You didn’t even realize you were shaking. 

“I think you’d change your mind really quick if you actually knew me.” You shook your head. The rest of your body hurt too much to even consider moving. 

“Tell me...What’s wrong, Y/N, with the word selfish?” 

Instantly, you growled lowly at the word. “Don’t say that word with my name in the same sentence ever again.” 

He grinned, knowing he hit a nerve. He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine. Fine. But at least tell me why.” 

You thought it over a moment, having a battle in your head. The way he stared at you almost made you feel obligated to tell him. You didn’t have the strength to both fight his advances to know you, and to keep yourself fucking alive. So you gave in, promising yourself that this would be the last time. You always broke your promises to yourself. 

“I’m selfish because I don’t want to be selfless.” You emphasized the last part. “I don’t want to give all of myself to someone else or something else because if I gave away a piece of me to every person I’ve ever cared about,” You hesitated before hanging your head low. “I’d have none of myself left. So instead I forcefully rip myself back from their prying hands, even if it breaks them in the process.” 

You were a naturally selfless person. Being selfish was a learned behavior after a long time of being in this world of crime. Taehyung nodded slowly, but there was no pity in his eyes, you hated pity, but he did have understanding. 

“I get it.” He muttered. Then he took your bloodied hand, still tied to the chair, and held it softly. “I’m selfish too.” 

You almost relaxed until those last words. Yoongi flashed across your mind, reminding you of your situation. You jerked your hand back, as much as you could in your situation. He noticed. Taehyung slowly withdrew. 

“Sorry, that was uncalled for.” He apologized, his deep voice its own kind of relaxation. 

“You can do what you want. You’re not the one tied up to a chair. And frankly, that was better than being punched in the gut.” You said with an accusing tone. 

“Ah right.” He scratched the back of his head. “Sorry about that. I just can’t leave you unscathed or else there will be issues.” He glanced at the security cameras. Taehyung usually had great self control. He never said more than he needed to and his co-workers would describe him as short and blunt when speaking. So why did he go to the extra lengths of formalities and apologies when it came to you? He couldn’t put his finger on it. 

“Yeah yeah. As long as there’s no permanent damage, Yoongi might save your life.” You only half joked. 

“You still think Yoongi is coming? It’s been weeks.” He chuckled bitterly. You swallowed thickly, reality dawning on you. 

“I’m sure he is.” You felt your jaw clench. Maybe he was right. Maybe no one was coming for you. 

“I see your resolve wavering. I’m working on...a plan.” His voice dipped low at that last part. You coughed, rolling your eyes. 

“Does that matter now? Why don’t you just kill me already? I’m not giving you information and it’s clear they don’t care enough about me for you to use me as a bargaining chip.” You spat blood onto the ground, too tired to do anything else. You just wanted it all to be over with. 

“Hey,” His voice was gentle, almost soft. “Look at me.” His hand went out to your cheek as you lifted your heavy eyelids to look at him. 

“Come on, Tae, stop dragging this out. I did nothing but keep you captive the entire time you were with me. You owe me nothing.” 

The handsome man nodded. “I know.” He murmured. 

There was a loud bang from somewhere outside. “I just wanted to make sure you know I’m sorry for everything. If we had met under better circumstances, I would have liked to get to know you. But I can’t, not now, and we will probably never meet again.” 

“What do you mean?” Your voice was hushed as another bang came from outside. There were footsteps and loud voices. Taehyung didn’t answer, he just donned a serious expression. Your breath hitched as you watched him take out his gun and flick the safety off. 

“I’ve got to go.” He held up his gun and rushed outside the room, his feet joining the beat of many others. 

-

-

Sitting in the dark is not fun. Your eyes strained against the pitch blackness of the room. There was the smallest sliver of yellow light from under the doorway. It was giving you a headache. You shut your eyes, growing increasingly annoyed by the tightness of the ropes. 

“Could have at least loosened the ropes.” You grumble to yourself. Then you slowly opened your eyes, hearing the commotion die down. Your sense went into overdrive, eyes trapped on the door. Slow, heavy set, footsteps walked down the hallway. It was way too quiet. Your body shook, a natural reaction. Anytime someone stopped outside your door, it had been to beat you until you lost consciousness. Your breath caught in your chest. 

“Y/N?” A deep voice murmured. “Are you alright?” 

You narrowed your eyes, debating whether or not to answer. You didn’t really get a choice, however, because the door flew open to reveal two men you really didn’t want to see. Taehyung and Yoongi. Yoongi was stiffly standing there, drinking in your appearance, while Taehyung panted, clearly from running. 

“Are you alright?” Yoongi asked, swallowing thickly. Then he turned to Taehyung. “You were supposed to keep her safe, you prick.”

Taehyung simply shrugged. The two ignored your bewildered expression. “Hold on. So Taehyung...was a double agent?” 

“This is a dangerous business.” Taehyung smiled wolfishly. 

“I trusted you.” Yoongi grabbed the man’s shirt. You cleared your throat, finally drawing attention to yourself. 

“While I’d love to see this go down, I’d also like my freedom back.” You mused, a smirk on your face. As Yoongi hurried over, untangling you from your ropes, you added more flames to the wildfire of issues between the two men. “You know Taehyung was so good at acting, it fooled me. Especially when he punched me in the gut.” You tried not to wince and you could see he looked away, ashamed. 

“He what?”“ Yoongi turned, staring at Taehyung incredulously. “I should have you killed for this.”

Yoongi helped you out and you felt your legs fall from under you. They were numb, not responding to your desperate wishes for them to move. After all, you had been strapped to that chair for weeks. Yoongi caught you, rough hands running over your bloodied arms. 

“Fuck. I never should have trusted him to keep you safe.” Yoongi murmured, shooting Taehyung a glare. 

“It’s okay, I just...I need some explanation.” You breathed. How long had you been toyed with? Who else knew? Did Jimin know? Why would Yoongi send one of his own to be tortured? 

-

-

“I should kill you right now.” Yoongi held his gun out, finger twitching on the trigger. 

“Now what good would that do?” Taehyung’s mouth quirked upwards ever so slightly. “You’ll never know why I’m here.”

“I don’t need to know.” The shorter man eyed the other’s stance. Taehyung was casually standing there, hand resting on the holster that held his handgun. 

“Do we have a deal?” Taehyung watched Yoongi. 

“Like hell we do.” Yoongi held a blank expression. His eyes roamed Taehyung’s face and body, sizing him up. 

“Come on.” Taehyung ran a hand through his hair. “I’m willing to be your little spy, a double agent against my own gang.”

“Why?”

“I want protection. Total protection when you attack my gang. I’ll even protect Y/N if that’s what you wish.”

That made Yoongi hesitate. He had been looking for a bodyguard. You were of the utmost importance. Jimin stood to the side, ever the shadow. He nudged his boss, “I think it’s a good idea.” He murmured into his ear. 

“I think you know more than you let on, Taehyung. But I’ll give you a chance.” He snapped, waving off the taller man. “You’re dismissed. I want you back here, Friday, to discuss new information.” 

Taehyung bowed his head and left. 

“Jimin.” Yoongi commanded, eyes flicking to the seat in front of him. Jimin took a seat. “I want you to watch Taehyung. Be discreet.” 

The younger man nodded. “I will.” 

“Great, and try not to tell Y/N. She’s stressed out enough as it is.”

-

-

Another punch. Blood flew from a nose. 

“Rot in hell.” 

Blood was spat on the floor. 

“That’s where you’re mistaken. I thrive in hell.” Yoongi bent over Taehyung, studying him. He tilted his head before standing, wiping the blood on his hands onto a rag nearby. “Our deal means nothing. You have no use to me anymore.” Yoongi chuckled darkly, moving to the exit. “I hope you never see the sunlight again.” 

The door slammed shut. 

-

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I forgot to put this in before I posted, but I’m writing through my iphone hotspot and It’s so slow. - Marria

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[artificial-daydream]

While I Breathe, I Hope

Rating: K+ Fandom: Bleach (Ichigo x Rukia) Summary: Sometimes, it is within the unsaid that the most important message is perceived.

Notes: Entry to day 24 of IchiRuki Month 2020: I love you. This might be my first ever non-AU IchiRuki fic lol. I would like to thank @ariadnekurosaki for correcting my mistakes and being an awesome beta reader for this story - if not the BEST. I learnt so much more from spending an hour talking with her compared to my entire life in English class. All hail Ari-senpai for her sacrifice.

For as long as Rukia could remember, she had always lived precariously – without a roof over her head or enough food to eat. Then, she was found and adopted to the Kuchiki Clan, one of the four great noble families in Soul Society. Whether it was pure luck, or maybe fate, she did not know – for her sister had been married to Kuchiki Byakuya, the head of Kuchiki Clan and captain of the Gotei 13.

As such, she had never been one to dwell on her emotions. Living outdoors required wits and agility to survive; she was too busy trying to sustain herself to actually reflect on her emotions and feelings. Once she was adopted, she was too busy trying to adapt to the new environment and live up to the expectations of the clan. She had dedicated her whole life to having the perfect posture worthy of the Kuchiki name and to honing her skill with her zanpakutō. Living as Kuchiki Rukia meant throwing away everything that made up Rukia of Inuzuri.

“What is your relationship with Kurosaki-kun?”

The first time that question was asked, she had no idea how to respond. She was playing a part in the Living World, pretending to be a normal human high school student, and was having a nice lunch with other girls. Now, she wasn’t oblivious. Ichigo was pretty well-known among the school with his above-average grades and skill with sports. Although he always scowled, he was charming and attractive. A pang of guilt crept through her as she acknowledged the fact that she had taken away his prospects because of an instant decision, one he would never able to turn back from.

“Kuchiki-san?”

Once she heard her surname called, her train of thought was halted as she replied with the sweetest smile she could muster. “Ah, right,” she laughed, “Kurosaki-kun is….” She began to ponder. He is an unfortunate boy who wound up in a matter of life and death and took on a responsibility he had no reason to bear - all because of me. How could she explain this relationship?

“He is just a friend,” Rukia decided to reply, her smile never faltering despite her contemplation and bitter embarrassment.

I have no right to call him that.

The topic shifted after her anti-climactic answer. Since it was a golden opportunity for girls’ talk, if the guidebook was right about what to call it, Rukia shrugged and never brought up the discussion again. She thought the subject was only a passing question – a normal conversation girls around their age would usually engage in and then forget as they moved on to other topics. Certainly, that was not the case, as she got the same exact question right the very next day while on her way to the girls’ restroom.

“Are you sure you two are just friends?”

She had blinked at the curious looks they gave her. Now she was cornered by the wall, her line of sight swarmed with inquisitive girls who apparently knew about her latest answer regarding the issue. The guidebook was right – words spread fast among girls.

“Indeed, we are,” she said with a sing-song voice, not showing a hint of hesitation in her tone. She hoped she looked easygoing enough to convince them that she was honest because truthfully, that was the best answer she could come up with.

“But someone saw you on the rooftop with him,” one of the girls inquired, “and Kurosaki-kun bought you a juice box – he even opened it for you!”

Ah, she thought, classic human teenagers.

She spent her whole time as Shinigami in the human world observing the daily lives of humans. It seemed common for girls around their age to get all giddy about romantic approach – they tended to analyze every behavior and made assumptions about what even the smallest action meant.

Rukia cleared her throat. “Kurosaki-kun is such a gentleman, isn’t he?” she said approvingly. “I was having a little trouble opening it and he offered to help!”

The squeal of the girls showed that she had won them over. She managed to change the topic and now they would be too focused gushing about Ichigo to interrogate her any further, thank Chappy for that.

“Do you like him, Kuchiki-san?”

Her smile faltered a bit towards the unexpected question. “Huh?”

“He is so different from the usual guys, isn’t he?” Another girl chimed in. “I would totally swoon if he approached me the same way he did to you!”

“Oh.” Rukia swayed, her mind trying hard to figure a way out. “As much as I’d like to continue, I have been in the restroom too long.” She chuckled, hoping she did not sound too urgent. “My friends might be wondering where I’ve been so I should get going.”

She excused herself to go outside. Thank the heavens above she could finally breathe – but then that thought did not last long as she bumped onto something, or someone, she didn’t know – she looked up and saw the worst possible scenario she could ever expected. Rukia frowned. Not everyone had orange colored hair now, did they?

“Hey,” Ichigo grunted, “watch where you’re going, midget.”

He was the last person she wanted to meet right now.

The sounds of gasps from her back made her grimace at her miscalculation. Her escape was an absolute failure. She could never get out of this now, couldn’t she?

“Well then, excuse me, Kurosaki-kun.” Rukia walked away after sending him one of her fake smiles that he hated. The least she could do was minimize the damage, and that was exactly what she was aiming to do – until she felt her wrist being grabbed by his hand, halting her movements and causing her head to turn and look at him.

The grip on her wrist was firm. “I need to talk to you about something,” he said, voice serious and eyes determined. She knew it was something related to hollows once she heard that tone – and as a result, her focus promptly switched to an entirely different matter. To hell with damage control, now she was the one leading as she gripped his arm with her other hand, rushing to find a silent place so they could talk.

Thankfully, the staircase was empty, so Rukia quickly dragged her companion to the stairs. “Talk,” she demanded authoritatively, all humor and friendly, gentle expressions she usually faked gone in an instant.

“Ah, well,” Ichigo scratched the back of his neck, “do you think Karin might end up being like me? I don’t know,” he cleared his throat, “she always had strong reiatsu and I saw her talking to a ghost yesterday in the kitchen, so I was wondering.”

Rukia’s eyes softened. Was he worried that his sister might suffer the same fate as him? “You have nothing to worry about,” she assured him, “what I did to you was against the rules. I doubt any Shinigami would have done the same thing; most of us would never break the law of Soul Society.”

He fidgeted, “Yeah, but what if she can see you guys or hollows one day? She doesn’t have any power to fight.”

“What you did was something of impossibility. Although she is your sister, I doubt it came from some genetic factor –” Rukia truthfully answered. “It isn’t rare for humans to see dead spirits, but seeing Shinigami and hollows is an entirely different matter.”

“I see,” Ichigo did not sound too convinced, but the tension of his tone faded a little with her explanation. She supposed that was the best she could do to calm his uneasiness.

“Don’t worry, if something actually happened, I would save your sister – even if it costs my own life,” Rukia promised. After all, it was her fault from the beginning everything happened - the least she could do was make amends.

However, contrary to what she expected, Ichigo’s expression hardened at her declaration. “Don’t.”

Rukia arched an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you dare sacrifice yourself, for anything,” something about his tone made her shudder involuntarily, “not even to save someone else.”

Rukia deadpanned, “That is a very difficult request. After all, it is my duty to protect humans, even if it means I need to forfeit my life.”

It was kind of ironic for him to say that, Rukia thought. His life had changed completely after she attempted to save him and his family. At first, Rukia didn’t understand the meaning of his words. Perhaps he said it because the consequences of her undoing had been so dire for the both of them, and maybe he regretted becoming a Shinigami and did not want anyone else to experience the same thing.

That was the most believable answer, or maybe the only answer she wanted to believe – that the reason he did not want her to sacrifice herself was to avoid creating another victim. She assumed that was the end of their argument, but then she took a look at his face.

He was glaring at her; she would have thought he was just angry if she had not picked up the concern in his eyes. His lips were pressed into a thin line, obviously displeased with her response but unable to order her to say otherwise because it was her life, her decisions to make. He had no right to pick her battles and override her judgements.

Her eyes trailed down to his jaw, then his shoulders. They were rigid, his arms tense and his hands fisted. “If that is the case,” he began, “I will save you each time you plan on sacrificing yourself, since I am your substitute,” he decided, eyes determined. “I swear to my soul.”

Was it his need to protect, or resolve to fulfill his duty? Rukia wished she could have concluded things that easily, but she was no fool. It was something much more than that, something entirely the same but with additional vehemence and a twist of affection. He showed her the most intense wave of emotions, something she had never seen or felt, not in the hundreds of years she had lived. Her lips automatically parted on a small exhale, a staggering realization dawning on her as she understood what he was trying to do.

He was asking for the start of something – silently, but tangibly.

She knew what this was, and he knew she understood; through the way she hugged herself with her arms and kept her eyes averted from his gaze.

Do I love him?

She wavered. Was there even enough time for them to think this through?

They had a lot on their plates. There were many things she needed to handle, and the Gotei 13 will try to track her down soon. Time was not a luxury she possessed. She had to figure out a way to get her powers back, before they found out about Ichigo and possibly involved him along this mess.

Whether I like him, whether I hate him, it’s just all so troublesome, Rukia reminded herself. Love, companionship, and friendship… It is nothing but trouble.

Her eyelids fluttered shut, she should break whatever spark this was. He was a human. Nothing should ever start between them, not even across five lifetimes. Once her power came back, she would have to leave him, and might even make him forget everything about her.

But then again, she couldn’t finish something that hadn’t started yet, couldn’t she?

So she decided not to answer – not yet. They had a lot to go through – such a fickle thing as love could wait.

“We should get going,” she croaked, “everyone else must be waiting.”

He looked taken aback, as if he did not expect her to avoid giving a certain answer. She had always been decisive; for her to dither was proof enough of how serious this conversation might be – for her, and for him.

Yet she did not reject the idea entirely, and it meant she considered the possibility too; something that might redefine their relationship. The realization flickered in him; she could see that plain as day. There was a new sentiment emerging in his eyes – one that she might regret ever giving him.

Hope for the future. And damn, was she screwed because she actually felt the same way too.

[allicekitty13]

In 1987 Jasper and Alice meet at the local country club. With all the cards stacked against them can they find their way to happiness? 

Read On Ao3

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                     Let em' say we're crazy, I don't care about that.                  Put your hand in my hand baby, don't ever look back.                              Let the world around us, just fall apart.                       Baby, we can make it if we're heart to heart.

"Don't you have a shift today Whitlock?" The voice rousing Jasper from his sleep was accompanied by a dirty shirt being thrown at his head. The man opened one eye squinting against the bright sunshine currently streaming through his window to look at his best friend Peter leaning against the doorframe of his currently open bedroom door.

"Pete," The twenty-one year old groaned. "The fuck did we do last night?" Jasper remembered they'd decided to go out. He remembered Peter and Charlotte going off to do god knows what. Well, the man had a pretty good idea of what but preferred not to think about it. He definitely remembered the line of shots he'd done with his favorite bartender, Mara. But anything after his seventh Alabama Slammer was either extremely fuzzy or a black spot in his memory entirely. Judging by the way his head was pounding, the sick feeling in his stomach, and the intense craving for a nice greasy burger from McDonald's, it was really no wonder why he struggled to recall the events.

"We got drunk." Peter shrugged. "You know, like we do every Friday. But really man, you gotta get up. It's after noon."

"Haven't you any sympathy for the hungover?" Jasper rolled over as he spoke to lay on his stomach wanting nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep the condition off. Maybe to venture to the living room couch at some point and watch re-runs of sitcoms from the 70's on the sole TV in the apartment.  

"Not when I know you have to be at work in an hour. Rent doesn't pay itself, dude." With that, Peter left his friend alone to the misery of a bad hangover. Daring to open one eye, flinching at the still too bright sun, Jasper spared a glance to the digital radio/alarm clock sitting on the messy bedside table next to him. Although blurry, he could faintly make out the time of 2:13pm. That information caused him to awaken, fully sobering up in an instant.

Peter was right; he did in fact, have a shift soon. In approximately forty-five minutes soon. He would have to skip a shower, something his co-workers wouldn't be too happy about operating in such close quarters without air conditioning. That was nothing compared to the fancy customers he served at the country club who didn't exactly need an excuse to complain. Luckily it was Saturday afternoon, and most of his interactions would involve nothing more than shoving cans of Coors or Tab into coolers for the members to take out to the tennis courts or golf course.

Jasper threw on the polo style shirt he kept around specifically for the stuffy dress code required at the establishment and his cleanest, least beaten up pair of jeans. He quickly brushed his teeth and hopped into his beat-up 75' Gremlin hoping to make the thirty-minute journey in twenty.

Fate, as always, wasn't in the man's favor and he ended up being late. Only by about five minutes, but the glare Angela shot him when he finally arrived to take over the bar caused Jasper to feel as though he'd shown up hours tardier than expected. Once the irritated Angela rushed off to god knows where Jasper busied himself with making sure glasses were clean and everything well stocked for when the night shift arrived in five hours.

Of course, Angela being exceptionally organized and great at her job had, as usual, left very little for Jasper to actually take care of. He often wondered why she spent her time working at the club rather than going to college, but at the end of the day, they weren't really friends. The way Jasper saw it, her personal life was none of his business. If she didn't want to share, he wasn't going to ask. So with everything taken care of, the man figured he might as well venture over to the kitchen for a chat with the equally bored cook Emmett.

Jasper liked the slightly older man; he was a pretty solid dude. Emmett was trying to save up enough money to buy his girlfriend, Rosalie, an engagement ring. So a few months ago picked up a side gig working at the club as a fry cook. Emmett was hard-working, funny, and one of the most genuine people Jasper had ever met. They'd butted heads at first, having vastly different upbringing and thus outlooks on life. Still, over the past few months of working together at the establishment, Jasper found himself looking forward to Saturday shifts exclusively for their engaging talks.

Once he'd double checked to make sure there were no more menial tasks to take care of, Jasper swaggered into the kitchen and plopped upon an empty counter, ignoring the way his friend shook his head at the antics. They had a usual back and forth. Emmett warning the other man that if their boss were to walk in, not only would Jasper receive yet another meaningless warning about cutting his hair. Both parties would be lectured on how inappropriate it was for anyone, let alone an employee, to be acting so unprofessional in the workplace.

Of course, Jasper being reckless had received countless amounts of these warnings. The truth of the matter was that employees were hard to keep. High schoolers could only work so many hours, and most adults willing to take on such a job were quickly worn by the entitled attitude the customer's attracted to such an establishment possessed. Needless to say, turnover rates were high. Management couldn't afford to lose anyone for something like a haircut or unconventional seating choices.

So, as always, Jasper kept his place on the counter, chatting with Emmett about their respective weeks. Rosalie had recently taken a job at The Gap for an excuse to spend more time at the mall that her father couldn't argue with. Emmett had needed to replace yet another part on his frequently failing vehicle setting him back yet again on those engagement ring plans. And Jasper's band had finally scored an opening gig at one of the better-known bars in the area. Sure it wasn't headlining, but for the unknown musician, it was a big deal.

After just short of an hour of conversation, Jasper was in the middle of excitedly going rambling about his dreams of getting away from the California suburbs. Of how he wanted to pack up and head down to Los Angeles and the fabled Sunset Strip, when the bell at the bar counter rang, signaling a customer was waiting for his presence.

What he expected was another irritated woman, upset that she'd had to wait more than thirty seconds for another Tab. Possibly even a man who would chastise him because he paid hundreds of dollars for his families club membership. A fact that the members assumed meant they should somehow receive instant service. What he hadn't anticipated was the absolute goddess waiting patiently at the counter.

She was short, with permed chin-length black hair that she teased her fingers through as she leaned against the counter, talking animatedly with a younger girl. When he stepped behind the bar, she looked over at him with a bright, breathtaking smile. The girl uttered only four words, "Two Coke Classics, please." in her high pitched musical voice.  They were spoken pleasantly, and her attention had been redirected to him entirely, in stark contrast to what he was used to. Typically customers would bark their orders in the mans' general direction before immediately resuming conversing with their companions.

It could have been the breath of fresh air that her attitude brought. Potentially the reason may have been how entirely simple Jasper found it to get lost in her clear blue eyes. In either instance, Jasper must have stood frozen, staring for too long as the girl frowned slightly, her eyes glancing up at the nametag clipped to his shirt collar. "Jasper?" She spoke again, concern lacing her words rather than annoyance.

His name on her lips sparked him into action, "My apologies, ma'am." He finally spoke, reaching into the belly cooler behind him for her order with butterflies beginning to swarm in his stomach.

[alicedoessurveys]

Doctor Who Tag

yes im a nerd...

CHILDHOOD

1. Did you like DW as a child?

I was 10 when it came back on telly with Eccleston and the first episode with the autons scared me so much my mom wouldn't let me watch it again until a couple years later, but yeah my teens I was obsessed with DW... still am at age 25

2. Your age at the time of the revival?

10

3. First DW episode you ever saw?

‘Rose’

4. Did you have any of the toys?

I still have the eleventh doctor’s screwdriver... I used to have some of the figures but there in storage now somewhere

5. Which DW character did you play on the playground?

didn't play it on the playground

6. Monster(s) that scared you most as a child?

all of them! the ones that still scare me now are the Cybermen and the Autons... genuinely cant walk past a shop mannequin without being suspicious 

7. Joke/story you didn’t get as a kid?

as a kid, any of the innuendo type jokes

8. DW opinion that has changed since you were a kid?

idk I think I still have the same opinions

9. Who introduced you to DW?

parents

10. Did you like Sarah Jane Adventures as a child?

I LOVED SJA!! I miss that show, and Elizabeth Slade :(

DOCTOR

11. Who is your Doctor?

Ten was the doctor that made me fall in love with Doctor Who 

12. Your favourite Doctor?

omg why not just ask me who my favourite child is... (I don't have kids but you know what I mean) if I had to chose my top three are ten, eleven and thirteen

13. Least favourite Doctor?

purely just because he doesn't have enough episodes... nine...

14. Best regeneration?

none of them I hate regenerations :( they make me sad, im too emotionally invested in every single one

15. Do you like “Doctor-Lite” episodes?

they're not my faves

16. Who is the most human Doctor?

I think nine maybe? or twelve?

17. Best multi-Doctor story?

the 50th anniversary special 

18. Best Doctor monologue?

“Hello Stonehenge! who takes the pandorica, takes the universe. but bad news everyone, cause guess who? HA! You lot you're all whizzing about- its really very distracting. Could you all just stay still a minute because I AM TALKING. Question of the hour is, who's got the pandorica? Answer, I do. Next question, who's coming to take it from me? Come on, look at me! No plan. No backup. No weapons worth a damn. oh and something else, I don't have anything to lose. So, if you're sitting up there in your silly little spaceship with all your silly little guns and you've got any plans on taking the pandorica tonight... just remember who's standing in your way. remember ever black day I ever stopped you and then- AND THEN- do the smart thing... let somebody else try first.”

not copied and pasted, remember that from the top of my head... its always there waiting in my mind incase I ever need an epic monologue :’)

19, What do you think TenToo/MetaCrisis Doctor is doing now?

hopefully living his best life with Rose

20. Best Doctor/companion pairing?

ten and donna 

COMPANIONS

21. Favourite companion?

Donna, Clara, Amy

22. Favourite secondary companion?

is Mickey classed as secondary? idk

23. Least favourite companion?

Ryan

24. Best TARDIS Team?

Doctor, Amy and Rory

25. Most underrated companion?

Graham, but that may just be cause I love Bradders

26. Most overrated companion?

Rose... I like her but idk, I think she gets more hype than she deserves.. don't @ me

27. Favourite companion’s family?

Rose’s mom

28. Who should have been a companion but wasn’t?

idk I cant think of anyone

29. Favourite (canon or non-canon) DW universe relationship?

Amy and Rory

30. Who did you not used to like, but really like now?

wasn't keen on Bill at first but by the end I really liked her, same with Rory

EPISODES

31. Favourite episode ever?

girl in the fireplace

32. Least favourite episode?

most of Chibnall’s episodes tbh sorry not sorry 

33. Which episodes do you skip?

the regeneration episodes

34. Best two-parter?

Human Nature - Family of Blood

35. Historical, present day or futuristic episodes?

I like them all in there own way but I think present is fave, then historical, then future

36. Episode that will always make you smile?

all of them

37. Episode that will always make you cry?

Rory and Amy’s last episode :’(

38. Best run of episodes?

ugh I cant answer this theres too many 

39. Best cliffhanger?

the end of Spyfall part one when the Master reveals who he is... I was SHOOK

40. Favourite Christmas special?

Voyage of the Damned

SERIES

41. Classic Who or New Who?

new who

42. Favourite series?

four or five

43. Least favourite series?

eleven, I just cant with the writing

44. Which series do you skip?

none

45. Favourite series opening?

eleventh hour

46. Favourite series finale?

Doomsday

47. Best series arc?

Bad Wolf

48. Thoughts on series 11/12?

I adore Jodie Whittaker and her doctor, and although I think 3 companions is too many I do love Yaz and Graham (Ryan is hit & miss). I just think theyve been massively let down by the stories/writing... they’ve tried to hard to tick certain boxes and completely missed what Doctor Who is about for a lot of people.. an escape from the real world into these outrageous unbelievable but lovable fun alien adventures 

49. How much of Classic Who have you seen?

not a lot

50. Who should have had another series?

NINE NINE NINE NINE NINE 

MONSTERS

51. Favourite monster/villain?

the master 

52. Most creative monster?

Weeping Angels, whoever came up with monsters that look like statues and only move when you're not looking at them is genius 

53. Monster(s) that scares you most?

Autons, Cybermen, the creepy dolls from Night Terrors, the ones from Waters of Mars, Weeping Angels

54. Monster you think is too easy to defeat?

idk

55. Least favourite monster/villain?

absorbaloff

56. Monster you want to return?

The Master, I really hope that isn't the last we see of Dhawan

57. In your opinion, what makes a monster good?

being genuinely scary, 

58. Daleks, Cybermen or Weeping Angels?

Weeping Angels

59. Best Dalek story?

Daleks in Manhatten

60. Best one time villain/monster?

my brain has gone blank I cant think of an answer right now 

ADDITIONAL MATERIAL

61. Torchwood or Sarah Jane Adventures?

SJA

62. Favourite Torchwood Team member?

I haven't watched it all so I couldn't say 

63. Which Torchwood death made you saddest?

again, not watched it all 

64. Do you rewatch COE or MD?

huh

65. Favourite SJA Team member?

Sarah Jane

66. Mr Smith or K-9?

K-9

67. Maria or Rani?

Rani

68. Do you read the comics/novels or listen to Big Finish?

Nope

69. If you do, your favourite additional stories?

n/a

70. Do you like DW analysis (video essays, fan theories, etc)?

yes

DESIGN/PRODUCTION

71. Favourite piece of alien tech?

the sonic, I love how it is so multipurpose except for when it comes to wood 

72. Favourite piece of Murray Gold music?

I am the Doctor - gets me pumped every time 

73. Favourite TARDIS design?

Ten’s Tardis 

74. Has the 2005 era CGI aged well?

actually yeah, I was rewatching the ‘are you my mummy’ episodes the other day and my God when the gas masks emerged from the faces... ooooooof I was like omg how 

75. Favourite Doctor outfit?

eleven or thirteen

76. Monster with the best design?

not really a design more of a costume.. I live Dhawan master’s costume. that shade of purple, oof he so stylish 

77. Best show runner?

idk

78. Best writer?

Gatiss

79. Best opening titles?

eleven’s titles where the Tardis is flying and being zapped is cool but thirteens music hits different 

80. Will DW age well/stay popular in the future?

I hope so, I feel like its lasted this long surely it can last forever.. if the writers don't fuck it up... 

IF YOU WERE IN THE SHOW

81. Time period you’d want to go with the Doctor?

whatever time means Id get to wear the most beautiful costumes

82. Planet/place you’d want to go with the Doctor?

Galifrey, pre-desctruction

83. Doctor you’d most like to travel with?

any of them, please and thank you

84. Companion you’d most like to travel with?

donna, sceso a good laugh but also I feel like she’d look after me 

85. Monster you’d like to defeat/fight?

The Master 

86. If you could go back on your own history (like Father’s Day), where would you go?

back to when I was a toddler, I wanna see what I was like 

87. If you could ask the Doctor anything, what would you ask?

theres too many to ask 

88. Historical figure you’d like to meet?

Shakespeare

89. How do you think you’d meet the Doctor?

id probably be rescued from doing something stupid and then the doc would be like you know what the bitch clearly needs supervision she's coming with me 

90. Would you travel forwards or backwards in time first?

backwards

IF YOU MADE THE SHOW

91. Historical event would you like to see in DW?

Hamilton

92. Issue you’d like to see addressed in DW?

idk 

93. Who would you completely erase from the DW universe?

Ruth

94. One unanswered DW question you’d love to know the answer to?

where is Clara now?

95. Actor/actress you’d like to see play the Doctor?

Phoebe Waller Bridge (or Lin Manuel Miranda)

96. Actor/actress you’d like to see play a companion?

Andrew Scott (yes I did just basically recast fleabag and hot priest)

97. Is DW “too political”?

series 11 got a bit like that 

98. Which characters fate would you changed?

Danny Pink

99. What about DW could be improved?

I think ive made my options about Chibnall pretty clear... 

100. If you could write an episode of DW, any ideas for what you’d do

bring back Jenny, the Doctor / Daughter adventures they would have. I’m actually writing a fic about it if you wanna read.... here

[hizzalot]

Sethos: 02. My Butler and I by @SecretlyClawed

Driving into the city of Aberdeen usually took us a good couple of hours, us being Gerald and myself. It was a trip we took at least twice a week sometimes more if business or boredom required it. I did have a nice apartment in the city and it wasn’t completely uncommon for me to use it, but being who I was and living in the city with people everywhere wasn't that good of a combination. Besides the city was too noisy and wouldn’t allow me as much freedom to do as I please which my country living did. If you asked my alter ego he would snort and huff you in the face hard enough that you thought a tornado just winded by at the mere idea of living full time in the city because no matter how gullible and unaware many humans were when it came to the existence of other beings, most people would still notices the difference between a large bird and a 10 feet tall dragon, and no matter what you think they don’t scream like they do in movies and runaway. No today the little twats with all their technology want pictures, film clips, autographs and all other sorts of things. I'm being serious, they want it all if they could they want a goddamned interview and any of that is just a big no no. 

I do have full control of my animal, well at least as much control as one can over a partly wild beast. In most cases I can stave him off if I have too but he is a demanding son of a bitch. Unlike me, I'm the least temperamental person you can meet, but don’t tell Gerald I said that because he will most likely get a heart attack he doesn’t like bent facts. Anyway, my dragon if he is denied his time to fly, hunt and play for too long he will eventually force his way out no matter where I am or what I'm doing, he can’t be stopped in those situations. In the early days that happened quite often because I had refused to accept what I had become. Gerald was many time forced to clean up my messes for many years, until one day about 25 years after my dragon first appeared. One day he had enough and sat me down for a talk, if that's what you want to call it. 

After having to use every trick in the book to get me to listen even Gerald patience ran thin. He'd ended up taken me by the ear, and when I say by the ear I mean by the ear. Imagine being a 45 year old man in human years being dragged away by his ear, it was horrifying let me tell you, humiliating and nothing I care to experience ever again. He made me see sense so to speak even if he had to do it while I kicked and screamed like a child. Yes, it wasn’t one of my finest moments. I was young, childish and still blamed my unknown father for making me into a beast and in the end taking my mother from me, so I had cursed him off and refused to take my fate serious. When I still wouldn’t listen and had cursed Gerald too he had left me to my fate. 

Trust me when I say don’t piss off the hand who feeds you especially if it runs your household, take care of all the nitty details that you never have to bother with because if you do you are left to tend to them yourself. It took me a lot of groveling and a hell of a lot more begging to get Gerald to come back, many years later he told me he never really left he just wanted to teach me a lesson, I should have seen it coming but didn’t. I didn’t dare chance it by cursing him off again but I might have grumbled about it for a while. Today Gerald is my one and only true companion, living side by side with me and as long as he does we are linked together. He was my father’s companion for many years and he is linked with both of us by blood. He is this ordinary human, if you can ever call Gerald ordinary, as anyone else but with the benefit of being linked to me by blood he is what you would call my human servant. He can feel me as I can feel him, we have a bond and as long as I live he will live too.  

Gerald as my butler and personal adviser love to drive that was why we never invested in a helicopter to take us to the city. No he wanted to do it the old fashion way, the long way and he even drove an old Classic Alvis, the love of his life. I think he even loved that car more than me and he said he was pretty damn fond of me, but not more than that car. Gerald was the father I never had, no matter if the man who went under the name of Lord Stravos had father me. The irony being that it was not Gerald I was now going to have to save. Gerald said driving calmed him and gave him time to think how to work out the latest mischief I gotten me, us into, as for me well I enjoyed the quiet. If I got too bored I would fired up the laptop and do some work, work being searching for the next object for my personal collection. I both sold and collected antique goods and being 250 years old with more money to spend than I could find things to buy it was a good job and hobby. My money came both from the inheritance my mother had left me in property and money that had been well invested and my own personal wealth.

I had a very large and impressive collection of objects ranging from small coins, rings and bullets up to full warrior armor gear, to swords and my personal favorites, cars. I had built many garages over the decades to be able to store all 150 or so cars that I owned. I had every car that you could imagine a T-Bird original, an Oldsmobile, several different Mustangs; let's just say I have a thing for really old classic cars and Muscle cars especially. I even have a first model ford car, the so-called Ford Model T it was my pride and joy it didn’t race you down the streets but it was the first T Ford ever produced and it was bought by me. It was worth more in sentimental value than money to me. Considering the shape it was in I could probably get a good 100 grand for it but why would I ever need another 100 grand that I had in plenty, First produced T Ford not so much. The most amazing thing with these cars were that they all worked. Then they were all bought by my own hand, most of them but not all hadn’t been owned or driven by anyone but me, family bought and owned. I took pride in that. To others of course I simply let others believe I bought and restored or that they’d been in possession in my family for decades which in itself was impressive enough. Because to claim I bought a car in 1908 when I looked no older than 30 wouldn’t fly. 

Closing the lid on my laptop I put it back in my bag letting the bag rest against the seat next to me. I let out a deep sigh watching the steep mountain of my home disappear before me as we kept heading for Aberdeen. I'm sure you are wondering about this thing with my father. I do too sometimes, it is a story of its own and rather long but for you to fully understand it I better take it from the beginning. My father was the longest living dragon shifter the earth had known. He lived long before what we today call civilization and long before that even existed. Tales of dragons started because of him, and because there were actual sights of him as he flew the skies of earth there were rumors about giant monsters that could fly and had spiky tails. Gerald told me all about it once I had finally come to a stage where I would listen to what he had to say. He told me how my father had pretty much reacted the same way that I had done, but compared to me he was all in alone in dealing with it. He hadn’t met my father until much much later and by then he was all well good and pleasant with his other self, so much in fact that Gerald was the one who had to lure him back into human shape. The first few hundred years alive my father had been so besotted about being this giant powerful creature that he had mostly lived in the skin of his dragon. His dragon so strong that over time he almost completely took over Drake Stravo’s mind and soul. Gerald had found him in the nick of time becoming the man to save my father’s humanity, that was how he had become my father’s butler and human servant. Gerald was the humanity to keep the dragon lord grounded. 

Before Gerald he was a hunter, alone, living out in the wild, surviving day by day the only companion being the smoke that made him high. One night when he'd come face to face with a real life dragon it'd been the stroke of midnight he'd been lying by his campfire fire, and had just finished eating his one and only meal of the day and was high as a kite. That was when all of a sudden the flames of the fire had been shielded by this large shadow and this enormous creature without a name had appeared before him. At this time he didn’t know what a dragon was, and being high as a kite he didn’t even react in fright or other, Drake Stravos lay still on the ground watching the stars while the Dragon spoke to him in his mind telling him that he would be the new lord of dragons on earth, a predator to keep humankind in check and the one chosen to lead the Dragon Clan. That was how he became Lord Stravos 

Some hundred years later here I am, Dragon Shifter extraordinaire, disguised as an antique dealer, the only offspring of the magnificent Lord Stravos his legacy like a chip on my shoulder. It is 2019, leather jacket is on and I have an old fashioned Butler in tow. We look like oil and water trying to mix, me with my 'going with the times' attitude, your average Joe persona. Then we have Gerald who refuse to live in the now with his fancy accent and polite manners that make people look at him like he is from Mars, which to be honest is not to far from the truth. I have a job to do, buying and selling antiques, if you ask Gerald it is to save his Master (I am only Sire) my job is to save a father I never met from the evil Elves in the realm beyond and reunite him with my mother. Because if I don’t his death will kill us all. No pressure!

It all sounds pretty stupid when you say it out loud therefore I almost never do unless it is with Gerald and a dying must to ensure the man I have not forgotten about my real job. Dragons, evil midget elves and heroes saving other heroes and damsels in distress sounds just like a bad Hollywood movie. But for heaven's sake don’t tell Gerald I said that he will have my tail, literary because he takes this hero business very seriously. He takes saving his Master very seriously. My only problem is finding that damn door to the realm where my father is kept and the fact that the damn thing only opens once every decade makes the waiting process a fucking drag. 

“Sire. We are here.”

The window between the driver and passenger was down, Gerald always insisted on me sitting in the back, I was after all Lord Stavos offspring. Do you know how many times I’ve rolled my eyes at this, the legacy of man that is to me unknown is a burden all on its own. 

“Awesome!” I exclaim knowing perfectly well it makes Gerald’s skin crawl using modern slang or words. It tickles me so to tease the man, I mean what else should I do with my time, there’s so much of it to spill. 

“Splendid Sire, Splendid.” He emphasized each word giving me a stern look by using the rear-view mirror. Snickering I get out of the car before he has a chance to get out and open it himself. 

“Sire if you insist on acting like a brat I will have to treat you as such and give you a time out in the corner when we get back home.” He threatens calmly next to me, his exterior never faltering even though I have made him very annoyed. With a pat on the shoulder I turn to him.

“Oh come on Gerald. Take that drivers hat off and dance down the street with me, live a little old man. Who knows you might even get laid.” I say as I hang my laptop bag over my shoulder and start down the street eyes glimmering with mischief. 

“Corner it is then Sire.” Gerald shuts my door with a little extra force to show how serious he really is and all I do is laugh. Life’s good in o 2019. #MyButlerAndI #Eddark

[dramioneasks]

HP FESTS: KyoDreamsFests

In Another Life 2018:

Land and Leaf by In_Dreams - T, 3 chapters - As the crown prince of the faerie realm of Timbervale, Draco is used to expectations. But he wasn't expecting a visitor to the realm to turn his life upside down. Dramione High Fantasy AU.

Treasures Untold by CourtingInsanity - E, 2 chapters - Draco Malfoy finds himself shipwrecked and injured in the hands of a less-than-thrilled Hermione Granger. The deserted island may not be large enough to house both of their egos, or the inevitable weight of their building sexual tension.

Kukulkan by I_was_BOTWP - T, one-shot - A drought has wreaked havoc on their land and their way of life. As the rulers and priests push their society to the brink with ever-escalating demands for sacrifices in order to appease the gods, a young woman questions the very foundations of her people's beliefs. Alternate Universe Dramione - takes place as the Mayan civilization in and around Chichen Itza begins to crumble (circa 1000CE).

Wild Mountain Thyme by frecklesandbroomsticks - T, one-shot - In 17th century Scotland, two head-strong magic users compete to win a coveted spot on the high council.Alternately known as that one time Hermione and Draco engaged in a vicious battle for supremacy, nearly destroying the castle in their determination to reign victorious over the other.Thanks to RoryEgg for being amazingly supportive and helpful with this. She is the bee's knees.Title taken from "Wild Mountain Thyme." My favorite is an instrumental version by Edward Gerhard and is what I listened to on repeat while writing.

The Adventures of Hermione & Draco by Frumpologist - T, one-shot -Hermione Granger is forever at odds with her annoyingly handsome coworker, Draco Malfoy. If their frenemies relationship isn’t enough already, Malfoy is up for a prestigious award at work that Hermione has been busting her arse to win. Her very career rests on the next story she covers and she’s determined to unmask the long-hidden identity of their local neighborhood superhero, The Dragon.

Return by mhcalamas - T, 5 chapters - It might not be much, but her family is proud of their periodical publishing house. There’s no way Hermione Granger will let The Daily Telegraph force them out, but she might need a benefactor to fight them off. A tale of Fate, loss and love.

Coldfire by RoryEgg - not rated, one-shot - Hermione needs to get across the shores. She's had visions of the Iceman, and knows that he is destined to die there unless she follows him there and keeps him from being murdered. DRAMIONE VIKING AU

The Making of Draco Malfoy: Love, War, & Marzipan by bionically - G, 5 chapters - Meet the Honourable Mr. Draco Malfoy, rich, entitled, and bored, and the adventures that just might turn him into a reluctant hero. Regency England AU featuring the Napoleonic Wars.

Rejecting the Gods by slytherindramaqueen - T, one-shot - Hermione, the kingdom’s princess, starts to show signs of magical abilities. The royal sorcerer, Lucius Malfoy isn’t keen to teach her, but his son Draco, being discovered as a magic practitioner himself, is about to begin lessons of his own.

Hootin by MykEsprit - T, one-shot - For generations, the Malfoys and the Grangers have been fighting over the village of Hootin. With the death of Lord Granger and with Lord Malfoy being away at war, it is up to their heirs to end the feud.

Sky of Dragons by BoredRavenvlaw620 - G, one-shot - Life as a king’s knight is a pretty cushy affair, until a neighboring kingdom introduces dragons into their army. Maybe it’s time to get out. Written for the In Another Life Fest.

To the Stars By Hard Ways by Maloreiy - T, WIP - Captain Hermione Granger and the Gryffindor crew of the Fortuna Major have been assigned a very special intergalactic mission. Unfortunately, that mission comes along with the company of some Slytherin officers, including the massively irritating blond git known as Commander Draco Malfoy.

Unraveling by DarkAngelOfSorrowReturns - T, one-shot - Unraveling someone's mindset was serious business. Was it too late to change her mind?

The Sight Of A Warrior by Rosella_Burgundy - M, WIP - Viking AU: All young Vikings are taught the stories of Norse history. But what happens when a young pair stumble into an epic situation of their own?

Forge by Hystaracal - not rated, 7 chapters - In the aftermath of a cataclysmic new regime, Draco and Hermione traverse the distance between persecution and revolution.

The Price of Freedom by Kyonomiko - T, 3 chapters - Near death and fear bring the lost Malfoy heir to England. Lady Hermione Granger makes it almost painful to stay.

'Even Though I'm a Thief and Pirate' by fandomfairytales - E, 7 chapters - Port Royal, Jamaica, 1687 is a harsh place for those who do not agree with the fact of life that is the slave trade. Plantation owners treat men like cattle and those who find it barbaric are forced to accept there is little they can do to change it.Hermione Granger, a healer by trade, simply cannot sit idly by while good people suffer under the orders of men like Lucius Malfoy, or his lackeys; so she hatches a plan, to spirit as many as she can to safety in the dead of night.Naturally, things do not go according to plan and on the path to escape, she commits her first act of piracy; simultaneously losing and stealing a heart during a fortunate encounter with Draco Malfoy, heir to his father's fortune but perhaps not his views. Magic, Mythology and the Wizarding world cast; fused with the classic film Captain Blood (1935). Plenty of romance and adventure on the high seas with villainous pirates and mystical sea creatures making mischief for our intrepid couple & crew.

Regarding Jane by Pronunciation_Hermy_One - M, 2 chapters - AU: Hermione Longbottom nee Granger barely escaped the life of crime she was born into as the daughter of the head of the Granger Family, finding protection with Neville Longbottom, the only family more powerful. But when her husband is murdered and all fingers point toward her, can a face from the past she thought long gone save them both? 

Submerged by crochetaway - M, one-shot - Hermione Granger is excited to finally meet with the leader of the Mermish population in the English Channel. But when she gets down there, everything goes wrong. Who will she discover when she's down there? And what will she do to get back home?

Cherchez La Femme by Felgia_Starr - M, 3 chapters - Draco attempts to move on after a terrible tragedy. He ignores his father’s letters from France and travels to the States. He claims he wants to start a new, normal life with a new, normal identity, far away from all the guns and gangs his father has put him in, so why does he choose to go to Chicago of all places?

Stranded or Why is it so F****** Cold on this Planet? by savedprincess85 - T, one-shot - Future Space AU/No Magic: Draco and Hermione crash into a planet, injured, and a snowstorm is brewing. What happens while waiting for it to pass? Read and Find out! :)

A Touch That Never Hurts by JuweWright - T, 7 chapters - When Draco Malfoy, a gentleman in Victorian London, finds he has a half-sister, he decides to take her into his custody. To make the move easier for little Livia, one of the workers from the orphanage, a young woman called Hermione Granger, finds herself as the child's companion. But Miss Granger isn't just any girl and Mr Malfoy isn't just any gentleman...

To Live and Die in LA by IRisEaGLeS - T, 11 chapters - Film Noir AU. With the death of his partner, Draco Malfoy is forced into a world previously unknown to him - something dark and sinister lay underground. Something that only a mysterious dame can show him and bring in the light.

Heart of Winter by Prisioux - E, 3 chapters -  A cold that froze the Wizarding World and a tragedy that took their children... Hermione and Draco, despite their past, joined Harry and Luna on a suicide mission in hopes of saving their world - but will they survive long enough to see Spring come again ? Prompt: Ice Age.

It Beats For You by CordeliaOllivander - G, one-shot - Princess Hermione Granger has two choices for a husband, and she wants neither one. Her heart wants Draco, the only one she's ever felt herself around, but being from a rival King's kingdom makes it impossible for her to be with him.Draco Malfoy has loved her since the moment they met. When his mother sent him away to live with Sirius Black to avoid their evil King, Draco never imagined a happy life. Now, he has everything he wants, except for her.Will Hermione follow her heart and chose Draco, or will she honor her Father's wishes and marry the one he chose?

Of Monsters and Men by MrsRen - M, 6 chapters - Following the grisly discovery that London is being haunted by a serial killer, Hermione Granger finds herself with a stalker that blurs the line between reality and horror. Draco Malfoy is assigned to protect her, but with every twist and turn, she wonders if fate will let her out alive.

The Light in the Grey by chefke - E, 3 chapters - After the death of her parents, Hermione Granger is now a lowly peasant at the mercy of the Church. When they discover her Wiccan secret, what will she do to stay alive and will it be enough to save her from the grey-eyed monster intent on ravishing her?

This fest is ongoing.

[ryik-the-writer]

Rumbelle fic: A Sitting Deal

A Sitting Deal 6/6

A03 Link

Rating: T+

Summary: With the threat of a rent increase being held over her head, Lacey E. French makes a deal with Mr. Gold to babysit his three-year-old son. Soon however the town troublemaker finds herself getting close to her landlord and son…which just can’t be good!

Note: for my Rumbelle Secret Santa recipient…@of-princes-and-savages, based off the prompt: Hey, who’s kid is this

Lacey began ripping off her clothes as soon as she entered her apartment, releasing a new curse as each item hit the floor.

“Mother everlasting son of a bitch!” she howled as she turned the shower to the hottest level, welcoming the burn.

She scrubbed her skin hard, taking deep breaths to ease away her wracking sobs.

What was she going to do? She was falling hard for the Golds and it was the most unnatural feeling in the world. Lacey wasn’t supposed to fall prey to domesticity. She wasn’t supposed to rearrange her life for other people!

Yet the very idea of doing just that was possessing her. How bad would it be really? To be a friend and companion to a trifling landlord and his heart-stealing little boy?

She was being ridiculous, she thought. Gold says a few nice words and his kid learns her name and she melts? What the hell!

“This is so damn stupid!” Lacey groaned as she collapsed into her bed in nothing but a towel.

There had to be a way for her to wrap her head around all of this, to come up with a plan. She could just quit, but the idea of not seeing that curly-haired heartthrob every day was too painful to think of at the moment.

And Lacey E. French was no quitter, at least not anymore…

The shadow of the past sprang forth an idea for the confused barfly. It was a long-shot, and would probably end in a thorough smackdown, but it was the only shot she had.

With a truckload of hesitation, she called the one person who could help her sort through her most recent pile of wreckage.

“Hello?”

Lacey gulped at the familiar accent. “Belle?”

There was a brief pause and Lacey expected a tone dial to follow, but instead she heard a slight strangled noise.

“Oh my gosh Lacey!” Belle cried. “I…how are you?”

Lacey released a wet laugh, grateful for her twin’s invitation.

“Um, that’s complicated Belle. How about we start with you?”

“Okay,” Belle replied, sounding positively giddy.

Lacey listened somberly as Belle relayed her job as a grad assistant, her rough edged but soft-hearted fiancé, and of course wedding plans.

“I’m sending out wedding invintations later this week. Nick wanted me to have this grand wedding, but I know he hates big to-dos. I said I would be just fine going to the courthouse and then our favorite bar afterwards, but he said his colleagues would string him up over the physics department if he denied them this.”

Lacey chuckled. “I like this guy,”

“You’ll love him. He reminds me of you in a way.”

Lacey frowned. She certainly hoped the man holding her sister’s heart wasn’t a thing like her.

“Now,” Belle continued. “Let’s here about you. How’s old Storybrooke?”

Lacey scoffed. “Same as ever, though Granny added spaghetti to her menu for some reason.”

“Wow, it’s really come up,” Belle joked. “How about you? Will you be bringing a date to my wedding?”

Lacey blushed at the very idea of being serious enough with Gold that he would come to such an affair with her. Although she’d imagined him and Bae both would look just charming in a tux—

“Son of a bitch!”

“Lace?” Belle gasped.

Lacey groaned. “Belle, I’m in real shit here.”

She quickly relayed to her sister the weeks happenings, her deal with Gold, her time with Bae, and her strange uncertain feelings she didn’t know what to do with.

“Whoa.” Belle sighed on the line. “That’s…different.”

“It’s fucking stupid is what it is!” Lacey returned. “I don’t get it! I have one conversation with the guy and share some animal crackers with his kid and suddenly I’m a pig-tailed lamebrain!”

“Did you really put your hair in pigtails?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lacey barked. “Tell me what to do! What the fuck’s wrong with me?”

“Sounds like to me Lacey that you’re in love,” Belle teased. “Or more like falling in it.”

Lacey covered her mouth to keep from screaming, the words sounding more terrifying now that they were out in the open.

“I can’t do that Belle,” Lacey sobbed. “I can’t be…that!”

“What, happy?”

“In love, or whatever this shit is!” Lacey yelled. “I’m not right for them! I’ll drag them down with me! I’ll hurt Gold and Bae someway…I don’t want to do that!”

“Lacey calm down,” Belle soothed. “Please.”

Lacey took a moment to breathe, the light tint of static over the phone soothing her back into place.

“It’s okay to be afraid,” Belle coached. “It’s okay to not be ready for this. But it’s not like you have to marry him.”

“Oh god!”

“Hush, let me finish. You don’t have to jump into something you’re not ready for. If Gold’s really as decent as you say he is, he’ll understand! Just talk to him. Let him know how you feel and that you want to take this slow.”

“But Belle…” Lacey cried, her heart pounding. “He deserves so much better than me. I pay my rent in change and my first job since high school has been a half-ass babysitter!”

“Well…maybe we can open you up a checking account, and babysitting is a damn good gig,” Belle encouraged. “And as for you not being good enough for them…”

Lacey held her breath at the long pause Belle took, wondering if she was about to hang up on her and leave her to stew in her own disaster.

“I know what you did for me,” Belle said at last. “I know you didn’t go to college so that I could.”

Lacey’s blood went cold. “The fuck how?” she hissed. She thought she had covered her tracks!

“You’re careless Lace,” Belle pointed out non-accusingly. “You set your acceptance letter on fire, but you didn’t stick around to see if it burned. I found a piece of it left, and I put two and two together.”

Lacey groaned. Classic Lacey move.

“And while we’re on the subject,” Belle voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.”

Lacey blinked. “For what? You did great, and you’re doing exactly what you wanted to.”

“But you didn’t,” Belle stressed. “I should have pushed you to go to school, to do what you wanted. We could have split the money and taken out loans to make up the difference. But I was so selfish, and I thought you just weren’t ready but when you never mentioned Mum’s trust, I figured it out.”

“You were never selfish Belle,” Lacey promised. “You’re kind of right, I wasn’t ready, not really. And you were always destined to do something with your life, to leave this place. You didn’t need to wait around for me to do the same.”

“I would have gladly waited,” Belle said. “But you can’t keep stalling. You deserve to be happy.”

Lacey closed her eyes, feeling a comforting numbness seep into her bones. For so long she had been holding herself back, and now she needed to take a leap.

“I’m scared,” Lacey laughed.

“That’s okay,” Belle consoled. “No matter what happens it will happen because you were in control. And if by some one in a million chance it doesn’t work out, you know where to find me.”

Lacey nodded, wishing her sister were in front of her so that she could hold her.

“Thanks Belle,” Lacey said, the words coming deep from her heart.

“You got it sis,” Belle returned. “Now just what are we going to do?”

Lacey licked her lip, thinking over her options. She’d never been good a planning, and it wasn’t until now that hesitation appeared in her dictionary.

Maybe things would work out if she winged it after all?

“I’ve gotta make a blue print,” Lacey said as she jumped up to find clothes.

“What?”

“Call you tomorrow bye!”

“Lacey wa—”

Lacey hung up on her beloved sister and prepared to meet her fate.

 0-0-0-0-0-0-0

He shouldn’t have tried to kiss her? What the hell had he been thinking.

Gold had bathed and clothed Bae and taken him upstairs for a story before bed. The boy had longed fallen asleep in his lap, but Gold had yet to leave the rocking chair.

He’d been fearing the worst when he first hired Lacey. He kept closing the shop early just to check in on her and catch her in the act, but he had been woefully shocked to find that—while she had created chaos—it was less damaging than he had expected.

She actually bonded with Bae and did so in her own unique way. It made him proud of her in that moment, proud in his own decision to entrust his son to her.

But his admiration of Lacey French had begun long before they made their deal. Long before he’d even taken in Bae at that.

She hated him as a landlord like any other of his tenants, but she didn’t gripe or moan. She pushed through, even if he had a jar of pennies by the time he got her rent. She’d wink at him when they passed each other in the streets but never expanded on the low-key flirting. She held her self with the upmost confidence and could look men twice her size in the eye without hesitation.

Yet all this time she had been carrying a deep self-loathing. Why hadn’t he seen that she was so sad?

Because he was a cold-hearted bastard. It was a simple but true answer. He hadn’t really cared for anyone, and Milah’s abrupt departure had him wondering why he should try.

But Lacey had changed that somehow, pulled the withered remains out into the light to rejuvenate.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he felt for her, but if his want to kiss her early today was any indication, it was bordering on passion that her rushing out meant she did not want to receive.

Gold kissed Bae’s curls and carefully laid him in his bed. What kind of young woman wanted an old man with a kid? She was too young, too free to be tied down to such a commitment.

He decided as he took off his tie that he’d talk to her about it tomorrow. She’d probably feel uncomfortable and quit, but he’d swallow his hurt and pay her well before she left. He’d even offer to cash in a favor with a colleague from the nearest university to get her in so she could follow her dream.

He’d hate to see her go and lose the small spark of friendship they’d manage to create, but she deserved to take back the happiness she put on hold.

Maybe one day when she was done with her degree she’d teach him to play pool, or she’d come by his shop and just talk.

Or maybe he’d get use to being alone forever.

Just as he was undoing his belt, the doorbell wailed throughout the house. Gold held his breath, counting down and sighing deeply when his son did not begin hollering.

He grabbed his cane and swore to ram it down the throat of whoever was there. He had it poised to kill when he opened the door and found Lacey standing on his front step.

“Lacey,” he breathed, his heart picking up a beat. “It’s late what are you doing here?”

“We need to talk,” she stated simply, pushing past him.

Gold swallowed and closed the door behind him. “What’s going on Lacey—”

“I like you,” she blurted out, only a second of hesitation following her proclamation. “And hell, I like your kid. I don’t know why and I don’t know what to do about it, but I don’t want to act like I don’t feel it.”

Gold watched her fidget and tried to figure out if he was dreaming or not.

“And…years from now when I’m playing dinosaurs with Bae and I tell him about his mom, I want him to know that she was a total idiot because the second he was in my arms it felt impossible to ever let him go.”

Gold blinked, her words filling his chest with a suffocating tightness.

“Look,” she said as she hastily wiped her eyes. “I don’t know what the hell is going on, or what I really feel right now. Maybe I’m just being crazy or some shit but I…just wanted you to know how I felt so that we can get any bullshit that might happen over with.”

Gold stared at her for the longest time, his mouth slightly gaped.

“What!” Lacey cried. “So help me I will punch you in the ribs if you don’t—”

She watched him step closer—slow and careful as to not startle her. When there was only a gap between them, Lacey knew what he was about to do. He was hesitating, just like her. He was uncertain too, not wanting to push something that wasn’t ready to go forward. But he was awaiting her permission as well, and Lacey gave it to her by edging up on her toes and bringing her lips to him.

His were soft, the small bristled of unshaved hair rubbing comfortingly against her cheek. Her hand reached up to his shoulder, slowing rubbing it back and forth. The hand he placed around her waist was lighter, almost afraid.

When they pulled back Lacey was struck with just how brown his eyes were, and the faint scar on his lip that she hadn’t noticed before.

His eyes searched over her like he couldn’t believe what was happening. He had Lacey French in his arms and…she liked him. She actually like him!

“We need to be slow,” he husked.

“Yeah,” Lacey agreed with an excited gulp. “Figure this thing out,”

Gold nodded and for while they stayed comfortably in close proximity, catching whiffs of each other.

But Lacey French wasn’t one to stay still for long.

“Wanna have sex?”

Gold actively flinched, and Lacey waited rather patiently for his response.

“I…” he hesitated, trying to wrap his mind around the audacity that was Lacey French.

Finally, he just stopped thinking and took Lacey’s hand.

“Yes, I believe I do,”

Lacey smirked. “Great,” she began pulling him up the stairs. “Bedroom?”

“First door on your right.”

Lacey bit back an ecstatic smirk.

“Got it, gocha.”

Yes!

[phylumhearts]

unfinished draft (shortcake)

ienzo/riku, 1650 words

Ienzo appreciates Riku's visits to Radiant Garden. He drops in frequently, to consult with Master Ansem, escort friends for a checkup with Even, or lend a hand to the Restoration Committee. He seems so busy, yet he always has a minute to sit in Ienzo's lab with a cup of tea and hear about his current projects. It surprises him how easy it is to leave their unfortunate first meeting in the past. Of course, the Riku he knows now looks, acts, and even smells quite different to the boy he'd fought in Castle Oblivion. The keyblade master is reserved, polite, and attentive. He knows little of scientific and technological matters, but is sharp enough to keep up with Ienzo's explanations. He watches steadily, nodding when appropriate. Ienzo finds that meeting this gaze gives him a strange dropping sensation in his stomach. It’s a little unpleasant, but somehow doesn’t deter him from looking back again. When Riku makes his excuses to leave - ever so politely of course - Ienzo's chest tightens in an unfamiliar way. He hopes he returns soon.

It is the end of one of these visits. They say their farewells and Ienzo watches Riku leave - his hair is getting a little long in the back, but it suits him - until he disappears around the corner. Ienzo exhales and turns back to his work, but he can feel another pair of eyes on him. He glances over at their owner.

"Is something the matter, Aeleus?" he asks lightly. Aeleus doesn't respond verbally, but shifts his stance in a way only Dilan could read. His ever-present frown is a little deeper than usual. Ienzo frowns back. "What is it?"

Aeleus takes a long moment before replying. "When you see Riku... how do you feel?"

"Whatever do you mean? I'm pleased to see him, I rather enjoy his company. He's a good listener." Ienzo tilts his head. "Are you dwelling on the past again? I'm sure he bears you no ill will."

Aeleus shakes his head. "Is there a new feeling in your heart? A tightness in your chest, or a sinking stomach. Something uncomfortable, but not unpleasant."

Ienzo masks his surprise. "Now you mention it... I suppose so, yes." He quirks his eyebrow. "How did you know?"

Aeleus' hands curl and twist in the way they always do when he is uncomfortable. "It seems you may have... a crush." Ienzo narrows his eyes - is his stoic companion blushing?

"A crush," he echoes. Aeleus nods. It was a ridiculous notion - if he did have such a feeling, surely he would be more aware of it... except, he realises, he wouldn't. He may be a young adult now, but his teenage years involved no awkward hand-holding or clumsy confessions - indeed, he'd had no feelings at all. How should he be able to identify emotions he'd never had a chance to learn? He casts an analytical eye over his memories of Riku's past few visits. He always offered tea, partly as a courtesy but partly, he realises, because of a sudden dry mouth. He vividly remembers managing to make Riku laugh at one point, which... "Ah," he says aloud. He looks back to Aeleus, who nods again, looking as bashful as his stony features will allow. "And what do I do about that?"

"I'm afraid I'm not the person to ask."

Ienzo laughs, a short, sharp bark with a manic edge. "Then who is? Am I to bother Lord Ansem with such a petty matter? I'm sure Dilan would have some strong opinions to share, but I doubt I want to hear them. And Even..." he shoots Aeleus a pleading look, "...you understand that my options are limited, yes?" Aeleus hums and looks away, his hands twisting again.

"You may be surprised by the others," he says at last. "All I can say is listen to your heart. It will be your truest guide." He closes the distance between them, placing a comforting hand on Ienzo's shoulder. Ienzo pats it awkwardly. How, he wonders, can he listen to a part of him whose language he never learned to speak?

"I'm going to go for a walk," he says at last. He turns to leave, but Aeleus tightens his grip on his shoulder.

"About Riku," he rumbles, brows furrowed. "I cannot forgive myself for my past violence against him. But if he hurts you..." Aeleus' eyes bore into Ienzo's, earnest and grim, "...I will not be defeated a second time."

Ienzo huffs and brushes away Aeleus' hand. "That won't be necessary." Aeleus nods, with some reluctance, and lets him go.

Perhaps, Ienzo muses, he isn't alone in having things left to learn about healthy emotional expression.

---

It doesn't take long for Ienzo to try the library. He finds countless books on the nature of the heart, but none from the perspective he is looking for. With a sigh he makes to add another dry treatise on morality to his reject pile, but almost drops it when he's startled by a sudden voice.

"Studying the heart again, Ienzo? I thought we'd all laid that topic to rest." Ienzo whips his head around and freezes, something strange wrenching at his gut. Even looks more curious than angry or disappointed, but he can't help feeling caught in the act somehow.

"Even! I... I had a new line of inquiry. Nothing dark, I assure you. A personal interest."

"...yes?" Even's curiosity gleams behind his eyes. The writhing in Ienzo’s stomach rises as he realises how little chance he has of dropping the subject. He takes a breath, willing his body to relax, and resigns himself to his fate. All he has to lose is his dignity, and he suspects it wouldn’t have lasted long under these conditions anyway.

“I’m looking to better understand my own heart. As you know, I’ve spent precious little time with it, and I’m finding myself with new feelings to grapple with.” Even adopts his habitual thinking pose and raises a brow. Ienzo bites the bullet. “As Aeleus called it, a crush.”

Even’s astoundingly elastic eyebrows spring upwards. Ienzo begins to prepare pithy remarks for the imminent condescending ramble. To his surprise, it doesn’t come - instead Even runs a hand through his long hair and lets out a small chuckle before slumping into a nearby chair. When he speaks, it’s quiet.

“I thought I’d atoned for my mistakes already. Yet here you are, trying to find ten years of lessons of the heart in…” he picks up the closest book from Ienzo’s piles, “...Bright Networks: Light, Friendship and Emotion in the Hearts of Youth.” He rolls his eyes at the thin volume and tosses it back on the table. “It’s too easy to forget how young you were, how much of your life has been stolen. I’m… sorry.” Ienzo blinks at him, unsure how to respond. Even looks so old, weary in a way that goes deeper than poor sleep habits. He shakes his head and his animated manner returns. “In any case,” he springs to his feet, starting to pace, “you won’t find your answers here. Not because these matters are impossible to write about, mind.” He waves a hand to sweep away the theoretical accusation. “But the best titles for your purpose would be in a self-help section, or possibly parenting, and there’s none of that in our research library. The public library in town would be superior in this respect.”

Despite his reservations, Ienzo finds himself asking, “Do you not have any advice? Of a more personal nature, I mean.”

Even preens a little. “Although it’s generally wise to seek my counsel… truly, this is not my area of expertise. A superior intellect does not necessarily come packaged with superior social understanding, nor even superior understanding of oneself.” He places a hand on his chest, still pacing. “I suppose the classic advice, though, is to listen to your heart.”

Ienzo groans. “That’s what Aeleus said too. I’m afraid I don’t know what I’m listening for, or how to understand what it means if I do hear it.”

“Did he? Of course.” Even chuckles to himself, then whips around to face Ienzo. “But really, Ienzo, have I taught you nothing? Scientific principles can be applied wherever there is knowledge to be gained. Hypothesise! Test your theories and improve them. Discomfort, embarrassment, awkwardness, joy - all valuable data! The twinges and pulses of your heart need not be a mystery more so than any other field of inquiry.” His intense expression softens. "Every person must learn the language of their heart for themselves. You may have missed some opportunities to do so, but I see no reason why you cannot catch up with some dedication and rigor."

"Yes, I - I suppose so." Ienzo swallows back a lump in his throat. 

[conclude convo lmao. Need to decide if even asks who ienzo is crushing on or if he starts to but stops himself...]

Ienzo checks out as many books as the public library allows. Some have glossy covers with photographs of smiling teens and are written with a kind, reassuring tone entirely unlike the academic language he is used to, and he reads them cover to cover. He finds assurance that his feelings are normal and natural as well as descriptions of hormonal swings and physical changes that almost make him glad for the sterility of his teenage years. Other books have snappy titles and guarantees to teach men all the secrets of romance. These he dismisses when they talk exclusively - and disrespectfully - of women. [third kind of book? idk what lmao] Across the board, he finds little information that feels directly relevant to his situation. If this is the best material available, he muses, it's little wonder Aeleus and Even struggled to advise him. Then again, his situation may be unique.

Listen to your heart. He closes his eyes then, self-conscious, opens them again. 

[I kind of don’t remember where I was going with this one lmao...]

[iamliberalartsgt]

Ivan Allen College Professors Discuss 'Game of Thrones'

Twenty years ago, Janet Murray, Ivan Allen College Dean's Professor in the School of Literature, Media, and Communications, predicted many of the narrative shifts depicting in sprawling stories like Game of Thrones. (Photo Credit: Rob Felt/Georgia Tech Institute Communcations)

The Game of Thrones may be nearing an end for viewers of the hit HBO series, but it is sure to live on in the classrooms of Janet Murray and Richard Utz, Ivan Allen College of Liberal Arts professors who find the show an ideal platform to help students learn to untangle a complicated world.

Murray, Ivan Allen College Dean’s Professor and director of the Prototyping eNarrative Lab, sees evidence in the series' sprawling plots of the very changes in narrative structure she predicted more than 20 years ago in her seminal book, Hamlet on the Holodeck.

“The confusion we feel in viewing programs like Game of Thrones, and the immersion that draws us to them, are signals to me that these stories are outgrowing the classic television format,” Murray said.

Utz, professor and chair in the School of Literature, Media, and Communications, sees in the show "rich opportunities to examine our current interplay of cultures, politics, and social mores," and plans to use it as part of an upcoming class in the new Global Media and Cultures program.

Read more about what these professors have to say about Game of Thrones below, then visit the Georgia Tech feature A Science of Ice and Fire to see a video featuring Mariel Borowtiz, a Sam Nunn School of International Affairs associate professor, and two Georgia Institute of Technology graduate students and their simulation of what might have happened had the legendary Carthaginian general Hannibal had a dragon like Daenerys Targaryen's.

Merging Media: Breaker of (Narrative) Chains

More than 20 years ago, in her seminal book Hamlet on the Holodeck, Janet Murray, the Ivan Allen College Dean’s Professor, predicted the rise of a new genre of deeply complex narrative driven by the marriage of television and computer.

It would be what she called the “hyperserial.” Plot, backstory, and detail too fine to showcase in an hour-long drama would pass back and forth between television screen and computer screen, high-speed digital transmission of content would enable new ways of accessing stories, and narrative would, as a consequence, grow richer and more complex.

Nowhere has the promise of complex narrative storytelling been so fully realized as HBO’s adaptation of George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire novels. So it is no surprise that Murray and her students in the college’s Digital Media program have used those stories to test her hypothesis.

“The confusion we feel in viewing programs like Game of Thrones, and the immersion that draws us to them, are signals to me that these stories are outgrowing the classic television format,” Murray said.

In recent years, Murray’s students in the Prototyping eNarrative Lab (PeN Lab) have prototyped a companion app meant to help fans keep track of the dozens of characters, backstories, alliances, and antipathies that make up the dizzyingly complex world of Westeros. Working with Murray, they also have built an application to help viewers track the many plots of Game of Thrones, and the fates of its characters.

The companion tablet app provides a moment-by-moment window into a Game of Thrones episode, automatically serving information about onscreen characters and their relationships without user intervention.

The Digital Story Structure Project graphed the fall and rise of characters, showing, for instance, the opposite fates of Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow early in the series, followed by the merger of their fates in season 7.

“I am interested in prototyping the future of narrative,” Murray said. “Computers give us a new vocabulary of representation, and I believe this will lead to ever more complex storytelling. We need more complex storytelling to understand the world and share our understanding of complex systems and multiple chains of causation, multiple points of view, and multiple possible outcomes.”

Maester of Humanities

Richard Utz, professor and chair in the School of Literature, Media, and Communications sees in Game of Thrones "rich opportunities to examine our current interplay of cultures, politics, and social mores.” (Photo credit: Rob Felt/Georgia Tech Insitute Communications; Game of Thrones image courtesy HBO)

To a medievalist like Richard Utz, professor and chair in the School of Literature, Media, and Communication, Game of Thrones is engrossing, if unsettling, fantasy, one of the most complex narrative structures ever attempted, and a “highly valuable admission ticket to the study of contemporary media.”

One thing it is not, he said, is “medieval.”

“None of the reasons for Game of Thrones’ popularity — attractive world building, thriller-fiction pacing, complex characters, sexposition, bait-and-switch plot, escapist fantasy, intricate power play, clever play with archetypes, diverse female characters, guilt-free barbarism and violence, Sopranos-like family drams — is intrinsically ‘medieval,’” Utz said.

While the global fascination with Game of Thrones is sometimes seen as a recruitment opportunity by scholars of the Middle Ages, focusing on the books and HBO show from a traditional medievalist’s perspective is too limiting and self-serving.

“It is a global phenomenon. It is the most widely watched television show in the world ever,” he said. “While it is set in a fictional past, it raises a host of issues about our past, present, and future, and provides rich opportunities to examine our current interplay of cultures, politics, and social mores.”

Utz has written about his aversion to the use of novelist Martin’s world as way to lure students into studying the Middle Ages.

“Classes on the Middle Ages rarely need advertising because of the general cultural love affair students have with medievalist topics,” he said. “Game of Thrones needs to be studied as a contemporary media phenomenon that uses a vague ‘medieval feel’ as one of its attractions.”

In fact, he finds it notable that one of the main characters, Sansa Stark, began the series seeking the trappings of the romantic ideal of the Middle Ages — princesses, knights, and all — only to see that fairy tale viciously taken from her at every turn.

“Watch out for Sansa Stark in season 8,” he predicted. “She will play a major role in how the story unfolds, as will some of the other women whose paths have been transformed throughout the series. Like in classical drama, it’s the survivors who, having learned many difficult lessons, are the real heroines of this story.”

But he does see Martin’s stories and especially the HBO adaptation as an excellent place to meet students where they already are — invested in stories that are indelibly shaped by our current experiences, while retaining the enduring fascination with all things premodern.

“The premodern is an eternal mirror. On the one hand, we like to shudder at the otherness of it to reassure ourselves that we have long overcome its negative features,” he said. “On the other hand, we get to go back, fictionally, to a life that seems so much easier and unburdened by the complicated rules of contemporary civilization. Both responses are illusions, but that doesn’t mean we won’t entertain them.”

Utz plans to use the series as a case study in an upcoming class in comparative media cultures, as part of the new Master of Science in Global Media and Cultures program in LMC and the School of Modern Languages. The program is designed to prepare students to pursue professional careers that require advanced training in communication, media, language, and intercultural competency.

Utz believes that the narrative complexity of Game of Thrones is exactly the right realm within which to model the kinds of practices his students need to succeed and find fulfillment in their future jobs.

“The global city of Atlanta is in dire need of a workforce educated to be skilled communicators across cultural and linguistic divides,” he said. “I am planning on an approach that will confront my students with a wickedly complex scenario that allows for a deep understanding of multiple governmental structures, leadership styles, gender and race relations, linguistic and cultural traditions, and human behavior, a scenario just as complex as the ones increasingly common in future work environments.”

Dancing with Dragons

It isn’t a particularly bold supposition that dragons are a formidable weapon. Still, we wondered: exactly how much of an impact would a dragon have on a battlefield? Chandler Thornhill, a graduate student in economics, and Matthew Redington, a graduate student in computer science, offered to devise a few simulations.

Both are currently enrolled in the course Modeling, Simulation, and Military Gaming, an interdisciplinary, project-based class requiring collaboration across a range of backgrounds and skills. Groups of students spend a semester researching and dissecting historical battles, using this deep understanding to adjust variables and outcomes through computational modeling.

Introducing fantastical elements may seem an inconsequential exercise, but to one of its instructors, School of International Affairs Assistant Professor Mariel Borowtiz, introducing pop culture elements allows students to connect with modeling simulations in a different way.

“One of the things I like about bringing dragons into a simulation is that you really have to go through the same research process,” she said. “You have to be rigorous in how you find data and how you make assumptions. Obviously, there’s not a lot of data available on a dragon’s efficiency but you can look at the information sources available as a basis to formulate and justify assumptions. It shows the process can be applied in all sorts of areas.”

So how much of a difference did the dragon have? By their calculations, roughly 70 percent of opposing forces were turned to ash.

IAC Link

GT Link

[empvthys-blog]

Is that SAOIRSE RONAN? No, that’s just NEELA O’SHEA. She is TWENTY years old, and a BANSHEE. They are known to be TAME and OVERLY PASSIVE, and they identify as CISGENDER FEMALE.

TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF DEATH THROUGHOUT AND BRIEF MENTION OF CANCER.

Neela was born in County Cork, Ireland to a rather large family. Her mother and father were still madly in love even though they had met during high school. Now they had five kids and were living their dream of raising a family together. 

Though Neela’s parents had been hoping for a baby girl for quite some while considering they managed to have four boys in a row. So when she was born, it was seen as a miracle. 

As Neela grew up, she became extremely close to her older brothers, though closer to one in particular named Riley.

Riley was the eldest of her brothers and they always did everything together. They would spend hours reading on the floor of their home’s library, explored outside, and Riley even taught her to play the piano which later became one of her greatest passions. 

Even though Riley was ten years older than her, he always made sure that Neela was included on everything the boys of the household did.

She was an extremely curious child and often found herself asking “why?” to almost everything that was uttered.

In school, she was a straight-A student and even managed to skip two grade levels and graduate from secondary school early.

Though Neela’s youth wasn’t all sunshine and roses, in fact, tragedy had a habit of following the O’Shea family. 

Everything seemed to change the moment Neela turned sixteen years old, strange premonitions and feelings of dread plaguing the girl. She initially tried to brush it off as anxiety but it wasn’t long before she knew she couldn’t pretend any longer. She was proven wrong when her abilities began to bleed through, her mother knowing all too well what was happening. The women on her side of the family we all banshees and now it seemed Neela was showing signs she was as well.

At first, her abilities and identity as a banshee were mildly terrifying for her to think about but she wanted to use her abilities to perhaps help those she saw were going to die. But it seemed fate had other plans and she realized that it was just her duty to ‘announce’ that something was going to happen but there was nothing she could do to stop it. It was a terribly cruel fate.

Though most of the deaths she predicted were of people she didn’t know but that didn’t necessarily make it any better to deal with.

She never felt true pain until she had a vision of her brother, Riley’s death. She couldn’t tell where or how it was going to happen but she had this foreboding feeling that she couldn’t do anything to prevent it. That was the night she let out a scream louder than she ever had before.

She was supposed to have a bright future full of possibilities ahead of her but Neela felt as if there was no point to anything when Riley passed away, his family unable to find a trace of him. It wasn’t enough for him to be dead but they also had to deal with the pain of not knowing what happened to him or even where his body was. A feeling of emptiness spread throughout Neela every time she went to visit the gravesite they had purchased for him, just a marker and nothing buried in the ground.

She had the opportunity to apply for Julliard and audition, something she and Riley frequently talked about, but she decided to put her dreams on the backburner and stay at home and help run her family’s pub.

One stormy night, a traveler named Declan (who was traveling for business) arrived in the pub. He was just seeking shelter but Neela ended up enjoying his company far more than she expected. He was a man from England who had no clue what he wanted to do with his future but still had so many stories about the world she never got the chance to explore.

Even though he was supposed to go back home, feelings got in the way of plans and he decided to stay for Neela.

The two ended up falling in love and it wasn’t long before Neela was engaged, something her parents thought was too rushed but they still remained supportive of.

But before they could tie the knot, Neela suffered her second greatest loss when Declan was killed whilst traveling, someone mugging him and ending up retaliating by stabbing him. That vision had been the hardest and clearest, almost if the universe was taunting her over the fact she couldn’t stop it from happening.

Slipping into a deeper depression, she felt as if she had nothing more to live for and her parents and brothers could practically see the old Neela disappearing right before their very eyes.

As if that pain wasn’t enough, her father came home with results from a recent checkup that was he was diagnosed with cancer.

It was a painful battle for Neela’s father but his final words to her were that he wanted her to get out of her hometown, to go see the world and try to rekindle her passion. Not only for herself but for him, Riley, and Declan. They would have all wanted the best for her and nothing more.

After her father passed, with great reluctance, she ended up traveling to the United States where she settled down in a town called Hollowcrest. She got a job at a local record store as a clerk to help pay her rent until she could properly work on her musical compositions and do something with her talent that would pay the bills.

RANDOM FACTS:

Neela has a very diverse range when it comes to her taste in music, she can listen to anything from rap to classical

She’s extremely reserved upon first meeting her but she actually opens up to people quite easily if they’re more on the talkative side

She’s pansexual and open to the idea of spending her life with a partner of any gender

She still wears her engagement ring and is finding an incredibly hard time parting with it

She calls and Facetimes both her mother and brothers almost every single day

She has a dog that is her only companion named Clover

Her ability causes her to experience a lot of constant anxiety 

WANTED CONNECTIONS

NEELA O’SHEA, our SAOIRSE RONAN, is looking for HER BROTHER, RILEY, a VAMPIRE using CILLIAN MURPHY / ANY FC.  You DO need to message the mun before applying!

NEELA O’SHEA, our SAOIRSE RONAN, is looking for HER EX FIANCE, DECLAN, a GHOST using DOMHNALL GLEESON / ANY FC.  You DO need to message the mun before applying!

I would also love to find a roommate or best friend for her!

[generallynerdy]

Kingly Duties (Aragorn X Reader)

Summary: Post Return of the King, Reader discovers that many of the Fellowship have no idea of how to ballroom dance. Unfortunately, they’re going to have to soon, what with Aragorn’s coronation coming up and a large celebration planned afterward. Keeping this in mind, the reader takes it upon herself to teach her friends. However, her friends have a few ideas on who she should be teaching to dance.

Key: (Y/N) - your name

Today’s Playlist: Nope, nothing. I guess. I mean, there’s probably a song out there, but I wasn’t listening to it when I wrote this.

Cast: YOU! Aragorn/Estel, Gimli son of Gloin, Legolas Greenleaf, Peregrin (Pippin) Took, Meriadoc (Merry) Brandybuck, Samwise (Sam) Gamgee, Frodo Baggins, Gandalf the White, Faramir, mentions of Boromir, Arwen, and Elrond, and some random messenger guy as well as mentions of random advisors.

Warnings: Fluff!! If you don’t like fluff, that’s a warning. Also, the Fellowship being bad at dancing. ALSO Legolas teasingly offending dwarves

Status: Complete! (Might consider a sequel if someone requests it. Or a prequel)

“What do you mean you can’t dance, Gimli?!” You exclaim loudly enough for the rest of the Fellowship to hear. At least, what remains of it. Since Boromir died, it’s been far quieter. The rest of the Fellowship has gathered in celebration of Aragorn’s coronation, but that is a few days away.

    The dwarf scoffs, “I don’t need to know how, lass! I don’t know why you’re so surprised.”

    You gape, “You’re telling me that dwarves don’t dance?!”

    “Not often.”

    Legolas, who is reclined on a chair nearby, laughs lightly. “Why am I not surprised?”

    Gimli glares at him, though it is well meant and fondly. Pippin, who is on one side of the room alongside his hobbit brethren, pipes up. “I don’t know how to ballroom dance, but I can do a jig!”

    You gape further and turn to the hobbits with your arms crossed over your chest. “Excuse me?!”

    They look at you with terrified faces, unsure of whether Pippin has made a good decision in informing you of their inabilities. Gandalf chuckles around his pipe. “Hobbits are known to dance in merrier forms, (Y/N), not in such formal ways that you know.”

    You turn to him swiftly, protesting. “Dunedain are not known for their formal dancing, Gandalf. I am simply cultured.”

    Aragorn chuckles, smiling to himself at your antics. He is slouched into his chair and smoking his pipe in a similar fashion to that of Gandalf, very unkingly.

    You turn to him with a devilish smirk. He notices this and cocks an eyebrow. “And I seem to remember a young man with two left feet that I had to dance around a Ranger camp with for weeks before he finally figured it out.”

    The Fellowship all laugh as Aragorn shrugs, raising his hands in surrender. “And I am all but ashamed of it. I’ve never been one for dancing.”

    Strangely enough, Legolas has been silent. Aragorn seems to notice this as well and turns to his elven friend with a mischievous look. Legolas sends him a glare, practically demanding he remain quiet. Aragorn, however, does not listen. “Though I know someone who is.”

    You look to Legolas with a pleasantly surprised expression. “Legolas? You can dance?”

    Legolas sighs and nods, still upset with Aragorn. Gimli laughs heartily, “The elf! Dance! Ahahaha! As what would be expected of a princeling!”

    Legolas glares at Gimli, then smirks. “A fair opportunity to meet fair maidens who don’t retain any facial hair, I would call it.”

    Gimli looks offended, though he knows the elf is teasing, and starts to speak. You interrupt, still curious about Legolas’ skills. “Were you raised to know it or was this a recent development?”

    “About as recent as it can get for an elf, you mean,” Gandalf mutters, adding onto your statement.

    Legolas ignores his wizard companion, knowing full well that Gandalf is in a similar situation as he recognizes elves to be. “My father taught me.”

    Aragorn’s head snaps up, “Thranduil, King of the Greenwood? Truly?”

    “A long time ago.” Legolas elaborates to his friend, who clearly knows more of his father than anyone else does. “Before he became so...cold.”

    It is silent for a few moments. Only a few understood the words of Legolas and sympathized, while the others simply didn’t know what to say. So, you spoke up. “That’s it! None of you are going to the coronation with mediocre skills in dancing!”

    There are immediate protests from all sides of the room, even Legolas’. It seems that he doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the Fellowship, nor does he enjoy dancing. Gandalf chuckles at the others, knowing he won’t be forced to dance. Aragorn especially does not enjoy dancing in front of others, as you know well. However, you have other plans.

    “None of you are getting out of this!” You inform them as they start to quiet, accepting their fate. “Now, I need a partner….”

    You look around the room, examining everyone carefully. You already know who you’re going to pick, but it’s fun to see them frantically fear for their dignity. Pippin and Merry look absolutely terrified while Frodo seems to sink into the background, trying to disappear. Sam frowns but looks submissive as if he won’t deny a request. Poor Sam; too nice for his own good. Gimli avoids your gaze, hoping that you won’t make eye contact and immediately choose him. Gandalf continues to chuckle and leans back into his chair, knowing full well that you won’t pick him. Aragorn shifts in his chair slightly but smirks knowingly.

    “Legolas!” You announce and smile at the others sighing in relief, then laughing at Legolas’ grim expression. “Come here and help me teach them.”

    He sighs and stands, taking his position in front of you. You start to teach the large group, bidding them be silent and hear your lessons. “You put your hand on her hip, here, while she puts her hand on your shoulder. The man always leads, unless the lady is headstrong.” You wink at Aragorn out of view of the others and he glances away shyly, which isn’t normal for him. Then again, you are his best friend. “Legolas, go ahead.”

    He starts to lead you around the room in a classic formal, waltz-like, dance. “One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.” You twirl around the room simply, firmly holding his shoulder and smiling as he gets faster. Soon, you are rushing around the room with him spinning you every so often and the both of you taking advanced steps. The others begin to clap in rhythm with your movements, cheering the both of you on. It isn’t exactly formal, but it’s enjoyable.

    Eventually, you come to a stop, laughing and brushing your hair out of your face. “Thank you, Legolas.”

    “My pleasure.” He does a silly little bow, so you curtsy in return.

    You turn to the others in the Fellowship, “Did you get that?” They nod slowly, doubting themselves. You roll your eyes, then clap your hands to get things moving. “Lovely! Now, pair up. We have a shortage of women, so we’ll have to deal with this for now.”

    They laugh and protest, but soon find their partners. Frodo and Sam, Merry and Pippin, and Legolas and Gimli, though they are reluctant and hesitant. There are some arguments about who will lead, but you quickly settle them. “Legolas, Sam, and Merry, you lead.”

You start toward Gandalf, but Legolas interrupts. “(Y/N), you should dance with Aragorn! He’s gotten rusty!”

    Aragorn glares at Legolas, thinking that it’s out of your line of sight. You blush slightly and glance toward Gandalf, who nods approvingly. So, you approach Aragorn, who stands and takes your hand. You roll your eyes as he kisses it teasingly, then you curtsy, going along with his little game. You walk toward the middle of the room together and quickly get into position.

    You start slowly as you both get into the rhythm, finding yourselves. However, you quickly turn to a fast-paced dance, twirling in between the other pairs of men, laughing heartily. Aragorn smiles as you laugh, spinning you this way and that, careful not to trod on your toes. He’s a skilled dancer, but you already knew that. After all, you were the one who taught him all he knows on the subject. You continue for some time as the others around you warm up to dancing and start to get faster.

    You and Aragorn speak quietly as you dance around the room. “Where did you learn to dance, (Y/N)?”

    You furrow your brows, “I don’t quite remember, actually.”

    “You should do it more often.” He compliments with a small smile, spinning you around.

    You blush and glance at your feet, then back up at him with a smile. “You should as well, m’lord. You’ll have to get used to it, being a King and all.”

    Aragorn laughs heartily, his head tilting back ever so slightly. He doesn’t laugh as loudly around the others usually. You can tell by their expressions. Even after so long of a journey, you still find ways to surprise them.

    The merriment comes to an end far too quickly as the other pairs break up and take a breather, as many of them are exhausted. You and Aragorn, however, continue to waltz around the room joyfully, both of you having far more stamina than the others. Once you reach the middle of the room again, you stop, the others cheering at your amazing display. You and Aragorn laugh heartily, but he does not let go of you. Your heart flutters as you look up at him, his eyes brighter than they have been in a long time, since before the war.

    He reaches a hand up to your cheek as everyone is still laughing and chattering excitedly. He starts to lean in and your heart soars. Is this really happening right now?

    Suddenly, the door to the lounge opens and Aragorn separates himself from you with lightning reflexes. A male messenger enters, clearing his throat. The entire room goes silent and looks at him expectantly. “My lord,” He addresses Aragorn, “Your advisors wish to speak to you about the coronation.”

    Aragorn sighs a little, starting toward the messenger to leave, but turns back toward you all. “Apologies, my friends. The duties of a King are never finished.” With that, he is gone. You sigh loudly as he disappears from sight, the door closing behind him. The Fellowship is silent around you. They saw the glimmer in his eyes and are very aware of what he was going to do.

    “Apologies, lass,” Gimli mutters grimly.

    Legolas frowns, gazing after his friend. Frodo stays quiet, Sam whispering something to him with a concerned expression. Pippin pipes up, “What?”

    Merry smacks the back of his head, “Pip!”

    “Fool of a Took,” Gandalf mutters darkly, glaring at the halfling, who looks utterly guilty now.

    You glance at the ground, clenching your fists frustratedly. Why hadn’t you just leaned forward a little? You quickly leave the room, suddenly embarrassed. Nothing ever happens to you when it comes to Aragorn. You’re always so close to that one moment, yet so far. Each time you seem to reset back to just being friends. It never changes.

    After that day, Aragorn is extremely busy. He isn’t seen by anyone for days, other than by his advisors and planners for the coronation. The time drags on in anticipation that you might see him again, alone. However, it isn’t until the actual coronation and celebration that you are able to catch sight of him. Correction, he catches sight of you.

    You find yourself dancing in the middle of the ballroom with Legolas, though you’re about to switch around. It’s a certain type of dance that has the women move around in a circle, switching between multiple partners.

    You keep glancing around worriedly. You haven’t seen him since the coronation actually happened. “He will find you eventually, mellon.” Legolas reassures with a friendly smile.

    You sigh, “I wish he would do more than simply find me.”

    Legolas gives a sympathetic look. “I know Aragorn well, (Y/N), and I know he will not let you wait much longer.”

    Soon, the music changes, sounding the noise that sends you to your next partner. You give Legolas a quick thank you and curtsy before moving left to your new dance partner. To your surprise, you find a swift-footed Faramir dancing with you. He chuckles lightly at your surprise.

    “What are you doing here?” You hiss at him, “You’re supposed to be in the healer’s!”

    “He decided I was well enough to share in the festivities.” Faramir shrugs. You roll your eyes fondly as you continue to dance. He notices your worried glances. “Have you not seen him yet?”

    “No.” You let out a breath of frustration.

    Faramir cocks an eyebrow, “He almost did it again, didn’t he?”

    You blush and glance at your feet, muttering something under your breath. It was something along the lines of, ‘men’ and a few curses that shouldn’t be named in the halls of Gondor’s kings.

    Faramir chuckles loudly, “Everything will be fine, (Y/N), and if he doesn’t make a move, I’ll give him a little shove.” He winks, causing you to laugh. He knows just the way to cheer you up. Having been a Dunedain all your life, you’ve often run into Faramir and Boromir, or both, on your travels. Faramir is a good friend, though he is still not on the level that Aragorn is. He knows this, but he doesn’t mind.

    Next, you find yourself dancing with Pippin, then Merry, then Sam, and finally Frodo. All of them share kind words with you about the situation. What good friends they are, you can’t help but think. Leaving Frodo behind, you don’t bother to look at who your next partner will be. At this point, you’ve already been disappointed repeatedly. Still, if Aragorn were here, he couldn’t dance with you anyway.

    Aragorn has a duty as the King to marry someone of worth and someone who will do well for his kingdom, none of which are qualities you possess. Besides, many have already attempted to find partners for him, one major possibility being the daughter of Elrond; Arwen. Aragorn considers her a sister and nothing more, but the people and his advisors see it as a good opportunity for the welfare of the kingdom. Even Aragorn cannot deny that.

    “Will you not look at me, melin?” A gentle voice asks.

    You gape and turn to the voice, who is now taking you in his arms and dancing with you. “Aragorn?” You look around worriedly at the crowd of people celebrating the new King, knowing they’ve started to whisper. “What are you doing?” You hiss quietly as you look down at your feet in embarrassment.

    He gives you a look of genuine hurt and confusion. “Can I not dance with my closest friend?’

    You are silent. He’s reverted back to that again. Friend. He continues to spin you around the floor, the other pairs of dancers suddenly becoming far more interesting than the handsome figure holding you tightly.

    He starts to whisper in Sindarin, determined for you to speak. “Is this about earlier? (Y/N), you and I both know there is something there. You can feel it too, I know.”

    You look up at him for a few moments, finally making eye contact. The crowd’s whispers are growing louder in your ears. You can’t hear what they’re truly saying, but you can imagine their words in your mind. Who is she? Why does he choose to acknowledge her? She doesn’t look to be a queen. Why her?

    Aragorn realises you’ve noticed them. His expression softens, his dark eyes filled with hurt. “This is about them, isn’t it?”

    “Of course it is.” You reply quietly, in a hushed whisper. “And you. You have a duty as King-”

    “I care not for duty, melin.” He tilts his head in the way you’ve always loved. It’s so him. He grips your hand tightly and brings your knuckles to his lips, kissing them gently. His lips barely move as he murmurs, not breaking his gaze from yours. You’re enveloped in his gaze, barely hearing his words and yet hearing them as loud as thunder in a storm at the same time. “But I care for you.”

    He smiles and leans forward, his gentle hand upon your cheek. You don’t stop him, leaning forward a little to meet his lips on yours. You both continue to dance slowly as your lips meet and you bask in the glory of everything that has built up to this moment. Sparks fly as he holds you tightly, swaying across the floor. As you release from the kiss, you gasp for breath, as it lasted a long time. It only felt like seconds and ones that fleeted far too quickly.

    Aragorn cracks a smile once more upon seeing faint tears in your eyes. You’ve been waiting so long for that. Far too long. He reaches a soft hand to your cheek and wipes the tears away fondly. Chuckling lightly, he pulls you into a tight embrace, your head leaned against his chest. “Oh, (Y/N).”

    You lean into him contentedly, blushing and burying your head against his chest upon noticing the Fellowship gathered on one side of the room, sending you smiles and cheers. Aragorn only smiles brighter and holds you tighter, smiling victoriously at his friends and people. He does not care whether you are high in rank. He only cares that you are by his side.

Note: I had too much fun with this one, lol.

Requests are always open!

[ardynium]

What is this? Can it be? A new part of Three’s Company? (<this way to AO3) Still full of Dad!Cor, mad Uncle Ardyn and little Prom-Prom? Still by @bluespikycreature and little old me? Oh yessss.

This time Ardyn meets up with another one of the merry bunch. One who is all but delighted to see him, even if he might come up with a new recipeh in the end.

This part is called...

The cake is a lie

Ignis was early, as he always was, even though he knew that Noctis would very likely be fashionably late, as he often was. They were meeting in a small café halfway between the school and the charity event the prince was supposed to show his face at, to go through a few of the more important points of the night. Neither of them minded. The coffee was good, and there was no salad on the chicken sandwiches.

“Would you mind helping me with a decision?“ The hobo - no, not a homeless person, too much mohair and silk and finely spun cotton among the layers he wore, an eccentric - smiled at him. “It is of some importance to me, but rather easy for you to make, since it is of none to you, and you seem a man of good taste.“

"Not at all. How may I help you?" There certainly was no harm in doing this, and Ignis had some time to pass.

“Do we feel like classical chocolate today or like the rather promising strawberry tarte? Or something completely different?“ He managed to sound more serious about this question than Regis in some political things.

Ignis kept a perfectly straight face. "I'd say that it's not quite the right time of the year for strawberries yet. I doubt they will taste as good as they look."

“Which one would you choose if you'd had to choose?“ A little nod to the local selection of cakes.

"It's on the simple side, but the chiffon cake here is excellent."

“Then it will be two slices of chiffon, a cup of black tea for me and one Ebony for my young friend.“

“Of course, Sir.“ The server nodded and went to get his order, and the stranger sat down with him. “You don't mind if I do?“

"Thank you." Ignis nodded. "I am waiting for company, but it will be a while."

"Oh, I know, but the fledgling just sent me a message they will be late." Ardyn was rather proud of himself that he had learned to decipher those rather cryptic texts Prompto sometimes sent. For a whole while, the boy had tried, had really tried, but when he was in a hurry, he started to shorten and scramble things.

"Fledgling? Oh, you mean Prompto?" The nickname had been mentioned here and there. "I take it you are his uncle Ardyn, then?" Ignis had seen a few pictures, but they had been few and far between for him to only now be sure who the other man was.

"And you are Ignis Scientia, the princeling's chaperone. Ah, thank you, love." Cake and drinks were served.

Ignis thanked the waitress and adjusted his glasses. "I'd like to think that my duties go a little beyond that."

"Do they, now? And where do they go? Not on little journeys now and then, even though you could need those, to prevent the inevitable ulcer for a little longer." A friendly little wink as the uncle arranged the things on the table in just the right way.

"I appreciate the concern, but I am quite content with my position as it is." Even though yes, it meant that he had never had a proper vacation. "You are waiting for your nephew?"

"That, too, but I'm trying my best to meet those affected by the prophecy before things get even more serious. Have some cake with them, if it can be managed." A wide smile. Yes, this was perfect. Time to eat.

Other than with Noctis and his father, Ardyn only saw the moment Ignis' jaw became tight and his expression blank. The young man nodded and drank some coffee, used the time between picking up the cup and setting it down again to think and to assess . "Please, go on. You have my attention."

He was ruining his foreplay . How impolite. "I suppose you already have an opinion about the whole affair?"

"Just a cluster of assumptions, concerns, and wishful thinking, as most of us do." A tight smile. "Noctis has been adamant about not telling me what you talked about during his Majesty's visit. He has been a little out of sorts since then. It would be quite interesting to know why."

"He has? Oh my. That was truly not what I intended." Ardyn seemed mildly worried. Tried the cake. Allowed himself to get lost in the cake, at least for a little while.

Ignis let him, and busied himself with his own cake for a few bites. It didn't taste like much today. "I have helped him with some of his research. I am entertaining a few hypotheses that I would have considered absurd a few weeks ago."

“Indulge me, will you? I might be the person with the most, well, first-hand experience there is at the moment.“

"It does seem like it, yes. Especially if you are as old as what we saw indicates. You're him , aren't you?" It looked like Ignis wanted to add more, but he faltered, and finally only asked, quietly, "He's going to die, isn't he? Sooner than he should?"

"And you are going to suffer a fate worse than death. According to prophecy, that is. And yet we are sitting here and having an indeed rather delightful piece of cake. I'm rather sure this wasn't augured anywhere, and I would very much prefer the next, say, sixty years to be like that. More cake, less blood and tears."

The young man being so detached about the whole thing made it easier for Ardyn to talk about it.

"I think we can agree on that, yes." With the color his face had turned, warnings about stress related stomach issues came a little late. "If Noct's reaction is anything to go by, you don't know how to achieve this goal, either."

"It is rather hard to know such things. That's why humans went with praying and hoping for the best for so long. I do have ideas, but alas, not really a plan. Yet. I'm still in the 'meet the other parties'-phase."

"I suppose cooperation is a rather good starting point." Ignis nodded. "Whatever we do next, Noct's safety is my first priority. I'm sure you understand."

“I have heard this before, indeed. From pretty much everyone, as these things are to be expected.“ He dipped a bit of cake into the tea and ate it gracefully. “It is rather frustrating, you know, how much a title changes. Even the fledgling seems to prefer companions his own age, no matter how long we know each other.“ That was only half true and mainly the product of the teenage wasteland that was Prompto's brain, but it hurt a little nonetheless.

"Just to be clear: Noct is my friend. The title is secondary in this. That being said, I would very much prefer it if everyone got out of this mess unharmed."

“Oh, I very much hope he is in your heart, my dear Ignis. It is important to have good people at your side in any position, but especially in his. Those who are lacking them...“ A sad little headshake. It was clear he was thinking of somebody , but wouldn't say until someone asked nicely.

"Are rather unfortunate." Ignis frowned. "Who are you talking about?"

Ardyn pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I would like you to take a guess. You seem wise enough to give an interesting answer."

"I'm fairly sure that you are not talking about yourself, because if you were, I would have to remind you that if anything were to happen Prompto would come to your aid first, and that would put us in a rather awkward situation. Aside from the fact that we are having this conversation specifically so no-one will have to choose."

"And I have Cor. Who does try his best to keep messy ideas out of my head, even though allowing him sometimes needs a certain amount of good will on my part, with him telling me Don't and letting myself fill in the blanks." A slight smile that showed actual fondness.

Ignis returned the smile for a moment. At least something was already working out well. He sobered up quickly, adjusted his glasses. "There are some parties involved in this whose status I honestly don't know. Lady Lunafreya comes to mind, though. I cannot imagine her to be happy with her brother's involvement in the Niflheim forces."

“A wise man, as I thought. Where do you see the problems with little Luna, other than her brother dearest?“

"Her confinement," Ignis replied. He turned the cup in his hands, coffee now cold. "And the constant surveillance that comes with it. Securely communicating with someone who is basically a political prisoner isn't an easy feat."

“Mhm.“ A slow nod for this very human answer. “And you do have suggestions what to do to work around this?“

Ignis frowned. "I would have to think about it for more than a few minutes, to be honest. A misstep could lead to serious consequences on a large scale."

Ardyn briefly wondered if he could provoke a heart attack in a boy his age by just telling him what he already did, but decided against it. That would just be mean.

“Please do.“

A nod. "I will." He took a look at his watch and sighed. "They are running quite late." There was more than just a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“It gives us some more time to speak, which may not be the worst thing. You're the first of them I can speak to without...“ A fork full of cake. Not completely without.

Ignis, too, pulled the plate closer again. Much longer and he would have to go and pick Noct up, but for the moment, he might as well. "Without...?"

“My past stirring too much. It is rare, and I thank you for it.“

Ardyn had a vague idea why. A sense of nostalgia that woke deep within, a half-lost memory of an old familiar.

"I can hardly take credit for that, but I'm glad to hear it." His face relaxed a little, a conscious effort to come across a little less stern . "I certainly don't mean to cause discomfort."

A raised fork waving away his words. “You have every right to cause it, and every right to feel it yourself. You are as much part of this as the boys are, and are supposed to bleed even more. I find it very undeserved.“

Now that his expression was a little less guarded, Ignis’ discomfort was more obvious, drawn lips and evasive eyes. "Usually I would ask for details, and I probably should."

“The prophecy speaks of one wise man who will give the light of his eyes for the King of Light. The illustrations... point to you, and they are rather accurate about the other three.“

"That they are." Those pictures had been the garula in the room between him and the prince for the last two weeks. "And I'm afraid they are correct in assuming that it is something I would give to ensure Noct's well-being. But a wise man?" A wry smile. Ignis shook his head. "Not much wisdom to be found if I already know that it won't save him."

“Why do you think such horrible things if your worst enemy is not willing to think them?“

The boy - and a boy he still was - was better at playing down his emotions than his liege, and far better than the fledgling. One almost couldn't see the shiver running down his spine. "I'm not saying that it is impossible to save him at all. We already established that the prophecy is off the mark, and we are actively working against it as we speak. All I am saying is that there is no point in a sacrifice that I now know is playing into our common enemy's hands."

"The wisdom will come, sooner than later, prophecy or not." Piece of cake into his mouth. Not satisfying. "They might try to make you fulfill the words written by themselves by any means necessary. Oh, how they hate being in the wrong." Ardyn laid down the little silver fork, folded his hands to hold onto himself.

Ignis set his jaw and nodded. His response was tight, and he might as well have been talking about a particularly petulant child. "They will have to deal."

The Accursed’s smile was wide, and Ignis felt the older man's cold hand around his own for a moment, squeezing it in sudden sympathy. " Thank you ."

A short moment of hesitation, and another nod. Once Ardyn let go, Ignis used his free hand to pull something from his jacket pocket. A card. He handed it over like it was a matter of course for a teenager to carry those. "Thank me by keeping me updated. The more I know, the more helpful I can be."

The old man took the calling card with both hands and took a good look at it. "I will thank you for working together when things worked out, until then I will only thank you for your sensibility. It is rather liberating not having to be the most reasonable in this undertaking anymore."

"You may be giving me too much credit. I understand His Majesty is on board as well?"

"I'm giving you the fair share of credit you deserve. Yes, Reggie seems indeed to be rather happy with the idea of ending all this peacefully and without unnecessary deaths. The boy shares his opinion with little Lunafreya in this." There. He said it, as nonchalantly as he managed, just as Ignis had taken a sip of his coffee.

Somehow, Ignis managed to cover his mouth and keep the spitting to a minimum. He still needed a moment to get the coughing under control.

Honey-colored eyes looked at him innocently. “Are you alright?“

"Well," he replied, dabbing the coffee off his shirt as much as possible, "we are not currently under attack, so I suppose I am. Given the circumstances, that is all I can reasonably ask for."

The tiniest pout on Ardyn's lips. Dry as hard tack, that one's humor, and very much not what he had been hoping for. For once, he was proud of himself for doing something actually good , and now the only one who wouldn't pass out from the information had to do something like this. Life was mean.

"Also seeing that we are not, I take it your line of communication with her is impressively secure. Which makes enquiries on my side rather unnecessary." Ignis looked up. "I'm so sorry, did I get coffee on you?"

“You could try to be nosy, you know? Just the tiniest bit.“ Had the boy been born that way? And was he even a real boy? More composure than all of the adults together, this one. Rather scary.

"No need for further enquiries into establishing contact." Still with that calm voice. Also still dabbing away at a stain that was all but dry already, keeping his hands busy and his eyes down. "I was going to ask how you did it, and so quickly."

"As soon as your heart stopped screaming because all of this is way too much, that is." Ardyn's voice was soft. "You don't have to keep up your face, child, not with me. Be strong for the princeling all you want, but I promise I won't tell if you allow yourself to be weak once in a while. It's the same offer I made little Lunafreya, and it's the least I can do for causing all this trouble."

Ignis stopped and looked up. He took a deep breath, and the shudder running through him when he exhaled was obvious. "I--" Another breath like the one before. "I sincerely thank you for the offer. It is, however, not that simple. You should know that better than anyone."

"I know a thing or two about old habits, indeed. Would you fancy a drink instead? It seems the adult thing to do to regain composure." Again, the old man's hand on his, and it was only thanks to the table that he wasn't in a proper hug now.

"I still have to drive." Ignis pulled his hand back, slowly. "I should also be on my way."

Ardyn nodded, equally slowly. “Inappropriate. I'm sorry.“ His hand lay forlorn for a moment, then held onto his cup of tea. “Tell them my best regards and that I just wandered off somewhere, completely forgetting about the meeting. If you would do that for me.“

"I'm sure they will understand." Ignis stood to leave. "Thank you for all of this." His time, his honesty, his offer, Ardyn could take his pick. "It was good to finally meet you."

"That it was. And thanks for your recommendation of cake. It is appreciated."

"You're quite welcome. I hope we can repeat this under less... pressing circumstances."

“Probably never, considering your job. Off you go.“ A regal wave. He still could do that .