#and to be clear: i also think sand is an incredibly kind and caring person who genuinely wants to do and be good and often succeeds!

[hurlumerlu]

Hello, hope it's okay to ask - regarding your Sand post, was the thing you were referring to the fact that he passed along the BostonTop (at that point) revenge porn after stealing it from Nick?

Also could you tell me - and this is a genuine question - what you are referring to regarding him being a raging bitch? I am sorry that i have to even ask. I very much remember that after initially watching the show up to ep3 I considered everyone without exception in the show to be a rather awful person. But I have since fallen so massively in love with Sand that I am apparently 100% supporting all his gay rights and gay wrongs to the point that I will not even remember him ever having done anything wrong ever in his life besides the revenge porn shit. (That being said I also am of the opinion that some of the behaviour of people in OF can be judged differently when seen in their direct context and overall see it as a show about deeply flawed people. But honestly at this point I will straight up believe that I have become a Sand apologist to the point that i might be blind to other shit he pulled.)

Hey! Entirely okay to ask, and you have nothing to be sorry for X) On the contrary, I love getting asks and excuses to talk about my little shows. Full disclosure, I am absolutely not the best person to go to for a list of Sand's wrongs. In some aspects - not the raging bitch part, to be clear - he reminds me of my wife when I met her, and that will give any character a serious number of get out of jail free cards. When I call him a raging bitch it is 1. because both Top and Boston have good reasons to think of him that way 2. with deep love and affection and 3. because I need the reminder, sometimes. I would also argue, without a hint of sarcasm, that Ray is the least red flag of the main 6, so like. always always take my assessment of fictional characters with a grain of salt.

It does feel a little weird to double down on my use of the word "bitch", because I do not like it and almost never use it, but I think the connotations it carries are appropriate in the context of Sand's flaws (or some of them). I was mostly referring to the stealing and passing along of the sextape, yeah! To me it is the most cruel act committed by a member of the core cast (so not counting, say, Atom or Gap), especially since it was fully premeditated (unlike Nick who premeditated the awful invasion of privacy but didn't expect to get his hands on a full-on sextape) and since it is mainly Sand's fault that the sextape got out at all (Nick shared it with him but showed no sign of wanting anyone to get their hands on it). And while Mew threatened to share another sextape in an insane self-righteous vengeful power trip... Sand is the one who, you know. Actually did that.

Then there's the fact that he used Ray to do so. His motivations for that choice aren't spelled out to us, and I personally don't think he was trying to hurt Ray, exactly. I think he was trying to prove that he wasn't desperately in love with him at this point - a sort of "I don't love you, see: I can use you." I don't think he expected Ray to care that deeply and be so morally conflicted, but even that tells us that he wasn't being fair in his assessment of Ray's character at all. As a slight aside, even though he couldn't have predicted Ray's self destructive spiral - and Ray doesn't necessarily need anyone's help to start one - he still pushed him into it... which is why I was so fucking taken aback when I checked the ofts tag and saw so many people saying stuff like "wow, Ray calls you a whore and you still play nurse for him after his accident? get up man" because like yeah, Sand has no spine when it comes to Ray, but also he feels responsible? He thinks he's partially at fault and he's honestly not wrong? Why are we acting like Ray flew off the handle for no reason? Did the scene where Sand sees the seat belt bruise and falters, and Ray is actually the one subtly checking on him, kick only me in the face? alright then.

And the kicker is that I personally don't think Sand ever feels bad for leaking the recording. Don't get me wrong, he feels bad for hurting Ray, and for hurting Nick, but we never ever see him reflect on the hurt he caused Boston or Top (he does tell Nick he's sorry, but immediately follows it with "Boston is an asshole anyway, why do you care", which does not read as willingness to examine his actions, to me). In his mind, they're the dicks, even at the end. And I love that! I love how self-righteous the little fucker is. He was hurt and he retaliated, like they pretty much all (Nick, Boston, Ray, Mew, Atom, Chueam...) do at some point. That's the story. They hurt each other and they learn from some of their mistakes and in my opinion the show do not judge them for making those, and leave them space to grow. Like you said here in the notes, ofts is about a bunch of flawed people! It would be boring if it was just "all those messy people and Sand, the reasonable one" (though Sand would love to learn that some see it that way, and would agree).

So yeah, the moment where he looks at his phone, drops it on the ground with a sigh and fucking stomps on it is enough for me to bestow the title of raging bitch upon him. Insane choice in and out of universe. But! since my role today is apparently to get Sand condemned by the jury, let me list some of his worst qualities:

as mentioned, he's self-righteous and judgemental. It's easy to forget, because he can also be very forgiving at times, especially with Ray, but calling the drunk in the men's bathroom "people's burden", out loud, just because the guy didn't react gratefully to your concern, is just so demeaning and rude? Ray is so incredibly obnoxious later at Sand's appartment that's is easy to think he had it coming, but Sand is the one who went from zero to sixty at the drop of a hat. (he also tells Mew that Ray was the one starting this fight, and like... I beg to differ). And it's not like that's the only disparaging comment he makes about Ray. Some of it is meant to tease, some of it... isn't, but I think what matters most is how it lands, and they don't all land well. A sentiment I've seen a lot in the fandom is that Mew's scolding is the bad type while Sand's scolding is the good type, but I don't agree. I think they often say the same stuff, or stuff that could have the same impact, and that Ray partially craves (proof they care) and is hurt by it in both cases. I also think it's somewhat unfair to Mew, but this is a post about Sand.

this is deeply intertwined with point 1, but boy does he have a temper. Early show Sand will see a situation, asks "anyone wants to escalate that?" and not wait for an answer. To be entirely fair this changes very fast after he develops feelings for Ray, at which point if Ray is involved in the situation Sand does attempt to desescalate and/or just leave the scene (with Ray if he's not the one fighting with, without him if he is) but if Ray's not present? You're shit out of luck. Baseball bat Sand may have only lived in the pilot trailer, but he was perched on actual Sand's shoulder for a good half of the story.

also linked to point 1: his hypocrisy. He made such a big deal of Top "stealing his boyfriend", even though we don't even know if Boeing cheated on him with Top or simply broke up with him for Top (which like, sucks and will break your heart, but also people do fall out of love and there isn't necessarily a guilty party) only to make out with Ray behind Mew's back and later confess his willingness to be Ray's "secret lover" unless he finds someone better (he says he feels bad for Mew. he says "we should stop". but does he? do they?). And I want to give credit where credit is due, Sand did try to leave the first situation, but it wasn't so much out of consideration for Mew or some nebulous idea of doing the right thing than it was about his own self-image and hurt pride at being second choice. And he got even over that, in the river scene, as long as he could save face by pretending he wouldn't wait for Ray if a better opportunity came along. The fact that these two's beautiful, incredibly tender lovemaking scene happens before Ray breaks up with Mew isn't a innocent choice! Sand has a pretty strict idea of what a good person is, and he wants to be one, mostly thinks he is one ("do you think I'm a man with no dignity") but he is as failible and driven by his wants as the others, especially when it comes to love.

as a result of the first three points, his capacity for holding himself accountable and offering proper apologies vary greatly. Ray is actually a hundred times better at it than Sand, I will die on this hill, but this post isn't about Ray either. I don't remember him vocally apologizing for putting Ray in an awfull position by giving him the tape (which would require admitting either that he knew it would hurt Ray and did it on purpose or that he didn't take Ray's feelings into account at all) and while he does apologize to Nick it is, I've already argued, quite half-baked. I don't think he aplogize to anyone else for that? And like, I know he can do it. His apology for making Ray feel insecure about Boeing is very sweet and mature even though he did nothing wrong, so I interpret it as him often chosing not to apologize, either because of his aforementioned self-righteousness or because that would require him eating some crow and he doesn't like that.

he's just kind of bitchy sometimes! He's sarcastic, he's a nag and he loves to complain, and have we forgotten "Someone who was exactly my type dumped me for someone else"? I'm not saying Boeing didn't deserve that, I'm saying it's a bitchy retort. I just know one of the reason these two got along was because they judged people together a lot. I just know it. It goes hand in hand with his reluctance to be vulnerable and honest about his feelings: while this particular character flaw does not one a raging bitch make, Sand tends to deflect with offhandedly disparaging comments or an insistance that he doesn't care, and while it's not purposefully hurtful, it can be quite thoughtless, and does him more harm than good in the long run.

So yeah, here's my list of Sand's most bitchy characters flaws. I find them really endearing, tbqh. Some of them ensure that Sand belongs in the story and with the others characters, others serve to make his relationship with Ray even more touching to me. His devotion would be one thing if he was this angel of forgiveness and patience the fandom often paints him as, but he's a quick-tempered judgemental ass, and he still loves Ray (a guy who doesn't see himself as truly lovable, considered a handful by everyone around him) with breathtaking ease and steadfastness, no effort required (he in fact put some considerable efforts into not loving him, to no avail). Sand doesn't love Ray in spite of, he doesn't love Ray as some sort of cosmic trial to reach sainthood, he simply loves Ray, period. And idk, that means a lot to me. This show, weirdly, means a lot to me.

[bird-inacage]

Only Friends Episode 6 | "Can't you see that I really care about you?"

These two little reactions that Ray displays in this scene I found incredibly touching. In the midst of Ray's self-destructive spiral, after insulting everyone possible including Sand - Sand is looking him right in the eye and telling him 'I still care about you'. No matter what happens, regardless of what you say or do, I still care about you. You may decide not to care about yourself, but I won't stop caring about you. Sand makes it absolutely clear that he cares about Ray as a fellow human being, meaning his instinct to do so is based first and foremost on compassion, irrespective of any personal feelings he may feel towards Ray. He'll intervene on principle alone. He won't stand by and watch.

This seems to temporarily shake Ray out of his episode. He's looks taken aback and a little choked that the one person who has shown him unconditional concern is also someone he's repeatedly hurt. And I think Ray doesn't know how to handle that. He can't process it. He can't understand why. Especially after what he just did. He doesn't feel like he deserves it. Not someone like him. Sand is far too kind.

So all Ray knows to do is to push Sand away. He's choosing to run rather than confront. Maybe for Sand's own good. He's a burden, a calamity, and a jinx after all. Sand should stay well away from him.

[lurkingshan]

Hi! I love reading your opinions and I have just started The Sign. What are your opinions on the show and what route are you hoping it would take for the second half of the show? Take care and happy new year!

Hello anon! You picked such an interesting moment to send this ask. We’re halfway through the show and I think its strengths and weaknesses have become fairly clear. Let's talk about it!

Strength: The Chemistry

I think this is the thing that had all the girlies losing it right out of the gate: Phaya and Tharn are hot and their interactions are hotter. The pull and chemistry between them is palpable and the set up for their romance is compelling. Kudos to whoever found Babe and decided to pair him with Billy: you, sir or madam, are incredible at your job and deserve a fruit basket. We are all dying for these two to finally fuck.

Weakness: The Pacing

Which is why it's kind of frustrating that the show is dragging its feet on letting their relationship advance. The first four eps were delicious tension-building, but as the show starts to stall and use dream sequence fakeouts to provide smut without actual relationship development, the audience is clearly getting antsy. The show's pacing is all over the place in general, with wildly varied episode lengths and inconsistent action and plot advancement from week to week. And the desire to drag out the romance without a compelling alternative plot to fill the show in its absence is causing some damage to the characters, most notably Tharn, who is just starting to seem unreasonably antagonistic to a person we know he likes, not to mention unperceptive in his continued inability to notice what is going on around him.

Strength: Production Values

This show is absolutely gorgeous; you can tell most of the money went into making every frame of it beautiful. The strength of the production values and hard work of the crew to create the look and feel of the world was evident from the first episode with all those beautiful training sequences on the beach. And this is used to particularly strong effect whenever we visit Phaya and Tharn's past lives and see the magical world that exists around them come to life.

Strength: The Supporting Cast

The show also has a great ensemble, with Yai especially a standout character who brings a lot of fun to the show, along with his girlfriend Sand and the police squad bros. This is not surprising, as big, messy, chaotic, endearing queer friend groups are an IdolFactory staple. As of last week, we officially have a lesbian side pairing! Tharn and Phaya also have interesting family histories with sweet grandmas and loved ones who lend depth to their characterization.

Weakness: The Copaganda

It was perhaps too much to expect that this bl about cops would have a more sophisticated perspective on law enforcement, institutional corruption, and the so-called "justice" system, but that does not stop me from groaning out loud every time they pause the story to let these characters wax poetic about the nobility of their jobs.

Strength: Thai Folklore

This show is teaching all of us some things about real Thai folklore about the garuda and nara, including local customs associated with celebrating these tales, and the depiction of these stories in the show is just beautiful. Despite it basically being a tourism advert (complete with couple shirts for no reason??), I really enjoyed the episode that took us to Nong Khai and the Mekong River to see how modern Thai folks interpret and celebrate the myths at the center of this show’s story and ground us in something real.

Weakness: An Underdeveloped Take on Toxic Masculinity

This show uses violence quite a lot in its story, including violence in interpersonal dynamics, and it sometimes seems to want us to be alarmed by uncontrolled male anger, and sometimes impressed by it. At this point, Tharn and Phaya have both struck each other in anger during personal disagreements, and there hasn't been any real reckoning with the fallout of that. On top of that, the show has given us some crime cases that highlight the harm of toxic masculinity while also seeming to glorify and revel in it, most notably in the framing of a man who kidnapped and retraumatized sexual assault victims as a hunky folk hero. It's a confused take, to say the least, and I'm not sure the show has the depth and precision necessary in the writing to take on some of what it's throwing at the wall.

Strength: Villains

All I can say is Heng was born to play an evil snake god. The show has done a good job at making him feel like a real threat and building the antagonism between him and Phaya to the point where Phaya has been isolated from support and made to look crazy in front of Tharn. Dr. Slow Motion is very good at this.

So, what's the TL; DR? This show is a lot of fun, but has some obvious weaknesses in the writing, so do your best not to take it too seriously if you can. I am ready to see Phaya and Tharn get together and finally start working as a team, for the full backstory and epic battle they are waging to come out, and for the motivations of the rest of the cast of characters to become clear (I just know there are some additional past life reincarnations waiting to be revealed). It's a great time if you don't think about it too hard, and I really hope the back half will pick up the pace so that we can all just enjoy the ride.

[selfish-solace]

i have to say it’s kind of funny seeing people reblog my poorly made fo4 essay after the show came back. welcome back haters. If anyone’s curious about my thoughts on the tv show, it’s not my thing. i don’t really like it. i think the props department and the set people did a fantastic job but i think all the problems ive pointed out about fo4 carry into it heavily. and everything about like. everything. I don’t like the brotherhood as a milita, and it’s. Weird. To see west coast brotherhood portrayed as that.

to be clear, i have not finished the show nor do i plan on finishing it. i got about halfway through and im not going to hold the parts I haven’t seen against it. for the purposes of this rant, pretend that all you’ve seen is 4 episodes. act like this is still cable. and don’t get fucking weird about the fact I decided I wasn’t into it and dropped it. i don’t care if you personally think these issues are fixed by the end of the show.

ive always been an insane fallout conspiracy theorist and i was expecting to at least get super mad about the lore but im just. kind of apathetic. i think personally, that it’s fucking baffling that they decided to make their one main black character . like that. Maximus is like, constantly failing or being incredibly cruel to another person. like, when he put a razor into his only friends shoe for no reason other then social clout. i don’t know if they considered the optics of making the entirety of the brotherhood horrifically abuse the only black character because i genuinely believed for like the first three episodes that there was going to be some kind of “this brotherhood is racist” reveal, but no. I don’t think they thought about that. i don’t think they thought about much, to be honest. it feels like every new bit of information we get has to be delivered to us in the most unsubtle of ways. And that makes it boring to me. i don’t like how there’s essentially nobody normal in the wasteland except Lucy, because like. that’s really never been the case.

yeah, sure, there’s a bit of cruelty in everyone in fallout. that’s how this world works. But this show beats you over the head with the conclusion that everyone must be not trusted and everyone is to be feared and the wasteland really has fallen into complete anarchy. i think the complete destruction of shady sands and the ncr is a direct concequence of that choice. bethesda fallouts are kind of stuck in the old world apocalypse, and i just. think that’s kind of boring. the whole fantasy of fallout is seeing how things can change, and it feels like sometimes Bethesda takes “war never changes” too literally. like yeah. but that’s not what the quote means. it’s about how conflict is always the same, not how the world around it stays the same always. i also just think the fact there’s really nothing new or original to explore here is .. boring.

Quite frankly, im tired of the brotherhood. Im tired of the ncr. Im tired of the “find your family” plot. Im tired of the enclave. there’s nothing to mix up the formula. and im sorry, but i think the characters are boring too. i think that Walton goggins ghoul is not very interesting. I think Lucy’s arc is just. kind of predictable. because she’s literally just doing what people tell her with a kindness twist. fallouts always had these cool ass side characters, like, every dlc character from new Vegas. obviously it’s hard to translate that into a show, but who’s favorite is going to be the weird old lady? who’s honestly going to be interested in the horny farmers plight? does anyone care about that guy maximus was friends with? every character just falls flat for me. and that’s why i dropped it. because the new things it brings are just.. boring. and the things they keep the same are boring too. Genuinely, i had a better time watching the resident evil netflix show. at least that was interesting. I don’t care if you like it. I don’t think you’re a bad person for liking it. I get why. I just didn’t. be respectful in the notes please.

[mc-adarsh]

Adarsh nodded, a small smile on his lips as he noted the two other options down on another imaginary list. Swimming. That sounded like something he could do. And Yoga. Probably something he’d need help with, though meditation to him felt incredibly hard. Like something he might not be able to do without tapping into emotions he didn’t want to tap into. But perhaps that would make it worth his while eventually. “That’s a good goal,” he agreed. He shot Darcy a grateful look. 

He wiggled his toes, he hadn’t worn shoes since the first day on the beach. “I still need to have a look through those suitcases of clothes, hopefully I can find some running shoes my size. I’ll let you know when I do.”

Still not completely believing the possibility of a simulation, Adarsh felt comfort in trying to figure out the little mystery that Darcy set up. He wanted to find the answers, mostly to his own mystery, but he’d settle for another one too. If it kept him occupied. And it did, there were plenty of hours in the day for him to try things out. Even if now most of those hours were spent in frustration. Hoping for answers when he knew he should stop expecting them. “Then maybe… people do know me in here. More than one person, they just don’t want to tell me.” He swallowed. “Perhaps to create a common thread, to make sure we don’t just all feel like strangers, to make us realise we were chosen in a way,” he suggested. “Not just random people.” 

“You don’t have to worry,” he assured her. Frowning a little despite himself. He wanted to find out who Tej was, but only to know it, not to bring it up. “I don’t feel like I’m the kind to gossip.” He would make connections, but it was clear he knew very little about people on the island. Because for one he was too busy with himself, and he didn’t care enough about strangers to want to know about them. That probably made him a selfish person. 

“Not really. I don’t know if I’m one to watch tv either,” he said. “But I don’t have a phone either, it would be fun to have one thing.” He shrugged. “Even if it’s just a distraction. I heard that Alex was on a tv show, I would like to see it.”

His eyes shot to Darcy as she gave a suggestion. “Someone else?” He took a deep breath. Worrying about a tiger-like creature was one thing, worrying about someone on the island who could turn people to sand. “A whole lot more,” he agreed. “I wonder if they realise or not. Any idea on who it might be? I wasn’t there when it happened,” he informed her. Then frowned at his own reaction. Defensive. 

Adarsh nodded, though he hardly made an effort to assure her that chances of a tiger coming anywhere near big groups of people was rather small. Incredibly small. As long as people didn’t go out into the forest on their own, they certainly would be safe. Tigers knew better. But… he also wasn't sure if it was a tiger. It had reacted in a way that was tiger-like, running away when presented with a bigger and louder threat, not coming after them. Probably going out to look for easier prey. 

Not that he got time to think about the tiger-creature any further, when a fish flew out of the water after a quick pull from Darcy at the pole. It wasn’t huge, and it wiggled as it fell in his lap. He grabbed at it, carefully holding it in his hands, making sure it couldn’t escape. He laughed. “That seems a way too easy catch.” He hugged the fish to his chest. “Did you bring anything to put your catches into?” he asked. 

Darcy waited while Adarsh worked through the suggestion of the run, whether it would be something he wanted to try or not. "Not saying the run would absolutely solve your problems, but it's great for me. But if it's not running, then maybe yoga or swimming or anything you can think of. And this can be something you can try and actively feel like you're doing something, not just shooting in the dark for something."

It was still a random chance, of course, but much more controled and with much better chance of finding something that could work. "But yeah, if you wanna tag along with me, I don't mind. But find some good shoes for it first, that can make or break the run."

Darcy gave a small nod. "That is what I'm thinking too. That we were all in the same simulation, mostly interacting with what they set up for us, but everyone had connection points with others who would be here so when we arrive, there would be somebody to kind of-- provide comfort. Or at least something that makes it feel like everything that happened to us in there was real and there is somebody familiar. Comfort is probably not a good word, though, considering the exes thing for Zaid and Tej."

She wondered how she would have felt if it was her who actually showed up here, if she was the connection she had. Her stomach dropped and dread took over her even at the thought of it. And yet, there was a hidden longing behind all of it too.

Darcy pushed the thought aside. Elijah was here, and she even watched Alex's show, so there wouldn't be more connections for her here, she was certain. And especially not her. "Please don't bring up the whole relationship thing to Zaid, though. He said it didn't end well and he doesn't like talking about it."

She let out a small chuckle at the comment about the tvs. "Are you going to think I'm insane if I say I don't actually miss it. Sure, there are a few moments when I thought I could watch something if there were options, but mostly I enjoy the fact that there is no distractions like that." Granted most days she barely had time to herself, she always found something to do.

Her fingers gripped stronger on the fishing pole as Adarsh suggested what could have happened to Maria. She still couldn't decide for sure if she was simply planted here to scare the living crap out of them and was essentially a living simulation or if she was extremely unlucky, but she wasn't going to dwell on it now.

"That crossed my mind too. But I think it's just as possible that it was somebody else who did it without realizing it. Which is-- a lot more scary, I guess. Somebody running around without realizing they can blow people up? Would not want to get in their way for sure." But it wasn't Zaid, she was certain of that. There might have been similarities in power, but Zaid's was different, it was directed at himself.

Darcy looked over at the wilderness as she listened to Adarsh explain what happened to him with the tiger-like creature. "That sounds terrifying," she breathed. What could they possibly even do? If it just wanders into camp and starts attacking, could they all get rid of it? Would they be able to? The tests were truly started, Darcy could see it now.

But before she could really say anything, she felt a strong tug in her hand and she instinctively, without really knowing what she's doing, pulling on it, and out of the water flew a middle sized fish, right into Adarsh's lap. "What the-- I wasn't even paying attention. Wasn't even really doing much. This is-- I caught a fish, Adarsh!! I caught a fish!" she grinned over at him.

[tellerluna-stories]

ii. rex lapis

The sands of time shifted once more, and now Rex Lapis ruled over Liyue. His land overflowed with wealth, and all who passed through Liyue saw their businesses prosper. The people who now walked the paved streets of Liyue had happily never known the tragedies of war, and they lived out their lives in blissful ignorance.

Within the Golden House, Rex Lapis paced around restlessly. His horns and claws were nowhere to be seen, as Liyue had no need for such instruments of war. The simple white robes he had donned for battle had been replaced with layers of multicoloured ceremonial robes and intricate headdresses that only the finest artisans could craft.

With these robes came great honour and responsibility, a reminder that the fate of Liyue rested solely upon the shoulders of Rex Lapis. Though they were made of mere fabric, at times Rex Lapis felt that they weighed heavier than chains of pure gold.

He sighed and fiddled with his sleeves— though he was, in fact, the reason mora existed in the very first place, he had to admit he was tired of seeing the same golden shimmer that surrounded him everywhere he looked.

“My lord.”

Without even turning around, he replied, “I told you not to be so formal with me.”

“Alright, alright.” You smiled and spread your hands disarmingly. “Thousands of years, but you’re still as legalistic as ever.”

Unlike Rex Lapis, you had not chosen to change too much about yourself in the years following the Archon War, whether in appearance or personality. It somewhat brought him comfort knowing that in a world that was constantly changing too fast for him to keep up, there was still one person who could keep him anchored; no matter what era you were in, you could always quickly adjust to the practices and customs around you without forcing yourself to mold to them.

“Thousands of years, and I still need to remind you that titles are unnecessary, my friend.”

“Ah, but the question is: am I genuinely forgetting to drop them, or do I keep using them just to irk you?”

He turned around, face carefully devoid of any emotion. “My friend, do you happen to fear the wrath of the Rock?”

He watched in satisfaction as the smug look on your face quickly morphed into one of fearful respect. “As a matter of fact I do, so let’s change the topic. Your robes are simply majestic, my— I mean, Rex Lapis!”

“Do you not have one just like this?” Rex Lapis looked down at his embellished sleeves— the people of Liyue had gifted both of you with ceremonial robes, but he had yet to see you wear them. “If I recall, yours had the phoenix embroidered on the front.”

“Oh yes, I still have it with me.” You bent over and inspected the nearest pile of mora, brushing the golden coins with your fingertips. “I don’t wear it much since it restricts my movements, but maybe I will if there’s a special occasion.”

“I would like to see you wear it someday, if you choose to. You’d look absolutely stunning.”

He waited for some witty comeback, the usual jokes you’d make in response to his compliments— but you remained oddly silent, hunched over the little pile of mora like a bird guarding its nest.

“My friend...?”

Gently, he placed a hand on your shoulder, unknowingly sending an electric current running through your veins.

“Ah, yes, yes! I was just, uh—“ Hurriedly, you jumped to your feet and dusted your hands off on your clothes. “I was just trying to remember where my robe was, that’s all. I stored it away but I don’t exactly remember where— you know how it is, right?”

Yes, you had just forgotten where you had last put that phoenix robe, as though you still didn’t clean it and carefully air it out at least once a month. That robe was one of the few things you treasured dearly, as it was a gift from the people you watched over... and perhaps also because it was a gift that matched with his.

The heat rushing to your face and the quickening of your heartbeat upon hearing him say you’d look stunning— that was out of pure embarrassment, nothing more. He only meant it out of kindness, now, don’t misinterpret his words.

Clearing your throat hastily, you tried to change the subject. “Did you know that there’s a full moon tonight?”

“Is there, now?” He tilted his head to the side; a somewhat endearing habit of his, left over from when he had horns. “I have not left this place in quite some time; the people of Liyue are a little too concerned for my safety to let me venture outside often.”

“They haven’t....?”

But Rex Lapis merely smiled in reply, dismissing the matter with a wave of his hand. “It’s only natural for young people to be overprotective of the ones who take care of them. I’m sure they would do the same for you if you just let them, my friend.”

“You sounded very old when you said that, my lord.”

“Pardon?”

“I said your words shone like gold when you said that, my lord.”

He narrowed his eyes skeptically, but you only returned his gaze with a look of pure, angelic innocence. There was no way he could say anything against you, especially not with that look on your face.

“My lord,” You said, with that innocent look still plastered on your face. “Given that you haven’t gone outside in a while, what say you to accompanying one such as myself on an outing this fine evening?”

“An outing, you say?” He put a hand to his chin and pretended to contemplate the idea, silently observing as your eyes lit up with poorly-hidden anticipation. “Where would one go at this hour? It would cause quite a stir if Rex Lapis were to suddenly disappear from his position, with no reasonable explanation.”

To that you raised a finger upwards in reply, pointing to the cavernous roof of the Golden House.

“Technically, you wouldn’t be leaving.” Holding out your hand to him, you smiled and said, “Shall we watch the stars together, then?”

———

“This is incredibly reckless.”

“It’s also incredibly exciting, don’t you think?”

Barely-suppressed laughter bubbled up into your throat as you looked at the great Rex Lapis, who had awkwardly bunched up his robes around his knees. There was no way he could climb to the top of the roof without either damaging his (very costly, one-of-a-kind) robe, or getting him tangled into a mummy wrapping of fine silk.

“Your laughter does not go unnoticed, by the way.” He said, glowing amber eyes trained on the vast ascent of roof tiles before him. “Since this was your idea, how about you think of a solution to this problem?”

The cool night breeze whistled in your ears like a distant flute, and he shivered slightly; it was best to think of a solution quickly, lest Liyue be in uproar over the dignified Rex Lapis catching a mere cold.

You squinted at the rooftop, trying to analyse the best way to scale it with as little collateral damage to your superior as possible. It was certainly possible, especially with your talents as an adeptus (and also because your position did not require such cumbersome clothing), but there would have to be some rather... unusual measures taken.

“Do you trust me?”

He blinked in confusion. “What strange sort of question is—“

Before he could finish, you lifted him off the ground as though you were carrying a princess.

“Hold on tight, my lord.” You whispered, your lips only a few breaths away from his ear. “It may be a little bit unstable.”

He barely had time to wrap his arms around your neck as you leapt into the air, nimbly bounding off the golden tiles like a deer.

What exactly was this situation he was in? Moreover, what was this odd sensation swelling in his heart?

“Mind your sleeves, Rex- I mean, my lord!” You huffed. “I can’t see where I’m stepping if you decide to obscure my sight, which isn’t exactly the best choice for you right now.”

With one final jump, you landed safely on the topmost roof of the Golden House. He could only stare at you blankly as he tried to process what had just happened in the past few minutes— however, you caught onto his stare too easily.

“What, are you surprised that I was able to pull that off?” Shaking your head vigorously to remove the flyaway hair from your eyes, you frowned at him in a jesting manner. “Don’t tell me you’ve been underestimating my abilities this whole time, my lord.”

“No.” He replied immediately. “I would never.”

“That’s what I thought.” With a nod of satisfaction, you gently set him down onto the roof. “Here is the moon and stars for you, as promised.”

Rex Lapis raised his eyes to the sky that he had not seen in some time, and the heavens did not disappoint.

Overhead, the galaxy stretched out in a rich tapestry of hues, stars interwoven in between the threads like beads of precious stones. A full moon hung in the sky, a pearl of great price that took all the beauty that surrounded it and unified it into a beautiful symphony of colours.

For the first time in a while, he felt free— up here with you by his side, there were no such things as duty and responsibility. There were only the two of you in this quiet, peaceful place, with the heavens above as your only witness.

“A lovely night, don’t you think?” You grinned and put your hands on your hips, the wind toying with your hair ever so slightly. “The minute I saw this, I knew you simply couldn’t miss it; not in a thousand years.”

His gaze lingered on the picture of you bathed in a soft halo of moonlight, smiling dreamily at the stars above. “...Very lovely, indeed.”

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Jolting suddenly, you fumbled as you brought out a brass bottle and a pair of teacups from seemingly thin air. “I figured it would be cold out, so I prepared something, just in case.” You gestured for him to sit. “Have a seat while you’re waiting— can’t have the ruler of Liyue standing around waiting for me to serve him, can I?”

“Your judgement is as impeccable as ever, my friend. Whatever would I do without you?”

You rolled your eyes as you began to unscrew the cap of the bottle. “Such flattery is unnecessary. We both know that you could manage Liyue just as well if you were on your own.”

“That doesn’t mean I would want to.” He hesitated, unsure if what he would say next would make you uneasy. “You have done more for me and for Liyue than you could possibly imagine, and I... I sincerely wish for you to know that. You have just as an important role in Liyue as I do, and this place would not be what it is today without you.”

Pausing in what you were doing, you slowly raised your eyes to meet his— there was nothing but pure sincerity in his eyes and words. He truly meant what he was saying, and the way he worded it made your heart- no, no, this wasn’t the time for that.

“...Thank you, Rex Lapis. Those words mean a lot to me, especially coming from you.”

“Do my ears deceive me?” He put a hand to his mouth in mock disbelief. “Say that once more, my friend, I do not think I heard you well the first time.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” You glared at him. “It seems that your age is showing, my lord. Perhaps I should carry you back inside, if your age has really advanced so rapidly.“

“You called me Rex Lapis, for once. This is a day that this aged man shall remember for the rest of his life, and shall be inscribed into the history of Liyue as a momentous occasion—“

“The tea will grow cold long before your long-winded speech finishes, my lord. How about you drink first and talk later?”

Rex Lapis gave you an unimpressed stare. “Perhaps if you cease calling me ‘my lord’, I will think the matter over. When did you learn to brew tea, by the way?”

You returned his stare with one equally matched in unimpressed energy. “Over the years, I’ve found that the art of tea-brewing helped greatly in calming myself, and so I’ve been practicing ever since. Your cup, please— my lord.”

He rolled his eyes at your smug face and held out his cup.

A faint wisp of steam curled from the bottle as the dark liquid trickled into his teacup, along with some unknown plant matter. His thoughts must’ve shown clearly upon his face, for you burst out laughing upon seeing it. “It’s not poison, for Celestia’s sake! If I were planning to assassinate you, I would’ve done it eons ago.”

“And how is that meant to bring me any reassurance?”

“Oh, it wasn’t intended to.” You poured a cup for yourself and downed a sip of your concoction. “But no assassin would be fool enough to drink the poison intended for their target... except for me, possibly. Drink up!”

Rex Lapis still eyed the teacup in his hands suspiciously— but then again, you had never given any reason for him to doubt you, so why should he start now?

“So, is it good?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the unique flavours on his tongue. “If I could, I would drink the tea you make everyday for the rest of eternity.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words; you choked, nearly sending the bottle of tea tumbling off of the roof. “Ah- er, well—“

“What, is that too humble of praise for it? I mean it from the bottom of my heart.”

“No, it’s just- well, it sounds like a phrase I’ve heard among the merchants of Inazuma— oh, never mind. I’m glad you like it.”

“What did you put in it to make it taste so exquisite?”

Leaning closer to him, you whispered, “Petals of peach blossom and glaze lily flowers. Along with some other choice ingredients, but what truly gives it that taste and aroma is the flowers.”

Your face was close, closer than he ever even dreamed to approach in a million years; in the pale moonlight, your eyes glittered brighter than any jewel the earth could give. Any dragon would covet such a treasure and guard it with their very life.

How had he not noticed how mesmerizing your eyes were till tonight?

“Absolutely fascinating,” He murmured, before belatedly realizing he said it aloud.

“Isn’t it?” You hummed in agreement. “It’s my special brew. I experimented on it until I could perfectly balance the flavours to my liking.” Your gaze swiveled to the elaborate water gardens sprawled in front of the Golden House. “Do you want me to plant a peach tree and some glaze lilies by the front of the gate? I could do that, if you really do enjoy my tea that much.”

A mix of relief and disappointment washed over him; you hadn’t realised he wasn’t talking about the flowers.

He mused over the idea— it didn’t seem so bad, after all, but...

“I’d like to plant them somewhere more.... permanent. Somewhere we can watch them grow together.”

“Say the word, and your wish is my command.” You beamed at him. “Just tell me when and where, and I’ll have them in full bloom for you in no time, no matter the season.”

A warm, fluttering feeling filled his chest, and Rex Lapis suddenly found it harder to breathe than before. His face felt oddly warm, while his hands were cold— was it a result of the night air? He wasn’t that old yet.

Anxious to change the topic before you cracked another joke about his age, he quickly asked, “How are the affairs of Liyue doing, my friend?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “The trade routes are thriving splendidly. Many merchants from the other regions come to seek permission to transport goods to and from their lands, so I’ve been handling most of their affairs. Even picked up some of their languages while at it.” A mischievous smile spread across your face as you said, “Tu ne me comprends pas, non? Je t’aimerai pour toujours et à jamais, mon amour.”

“Impressive.” He hadn’t understood a word of what you had said, but he was almost dead certain that you were poking fun at him. “It is good to see that Liyue is in such capable hands. What about the—“

“—the adepti? Oh, they’re all doing quite well, I believe. They don’t really leave their abodes anymore, save for Madame Ping and young Ganyu.”

“How about—“

“Xiao? I visit him every now and then, to make sure he eats well and is doing alright. And yes, I bring him the painkillers you have specially made for him.” You paused. “He sends his greetings, and it is very obvious that that boy misses you, even if he won’t admit it himself.”

Rex Lapis breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. “You really do know what I’m going to say, even before I say it.”

“What can I say? Even before you need to ask, you can consider it already done.” A chuckle escaped your lips as you scuffed the sole of your shoe against the roof tiles. “That’s why I’m here, after all. Who better than I to carry out the word of Rex Lapis?”

“You had best watch yourself there, my friend, lest your head grows too big for your shoulders.”

“Oh, but my lord, who was the one who gave me this position?” Propping your chin on your steepled fingers, you give him a smug look. “I seem to recall a certain someone appointing me as his right-hand, after all.”

“What has been given can just as swiftly be taken away.”

“You’re no fun.” You stuck your tongue out at him and turned away, pointedly staring at the moon.

“So, what is the real reason you brought me up here?”

In an instant your head whipped back to meet his gaze, eyes wide and mouth agape. “How did you—“

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a lopsided grin, and now it was his turn to look smug. “You’re not the only one who can practically read minds, my friend. The facade you put up is better crafted than mine, but I can still see right through you.”

“Well...” You fell silent for a moment, fingers tracing along the sides of the brass bottle and etching invisible patterns into the metal with your fingernails. “I wanted to ask how you were doing.”

Rex Lapis tilted his head slightly, confusion and curiosity melding into one feeling. “How I was doing?”

“I struggle sometimes... with the memories of those who have passed on. Sometimes, in the heat of the moment I forget; I get distracted or actually feel happy, but then I suddenly think of them, and I wonder if I actually have the right to enjoy myself.”

Shifting slightly, your expression was unreadable in the pale moonlight. “But lately, their faces have become blurry, and I get scared when I can’t remember what they look like. It’s the least I can do for my comrades, since I’m the only one left.” You pursed your lips. “Do you have the same problem?”

The somber look on your face stirred up the remorse that still gnawed at his heart, even after all these centuries. You had been suffering alone because of his mistakes, and it pained Rex Lapis even more knowing that no contract he wrote could remedy the empty gap in your heart. All he could do was sit with you and be something you could anchor yourself to, just the way you had been a steadfast rock to him.

He shifted to sit closer to you, no longer caring whether his robes would be dirtied or not. “Not quite the same problem.”

“...Oh.”

“Like you, even after so many years I still cannot help but think of them. Every detail of their lives, their voices and faces— I remember it all.” Rex Lapis looked up to the stars, where perhaps the constellations of your friends lay, and laughed dryly. “Mortal men have been blessed with forgetfulness, but it seems that I have been cursed to remember.”

Tentatively, he raised a hand to gently pat you on the head, just the way his caregiver used to when he was feeling out of sorts or upset. “But worry not, my friend. If what you worry about is forgetting, then I will be the one to remember everything for you.”

“You needn’t worry about me forgetting you, by the way.” You said quietly. “Even if I forget everything else in this world, I know that I’ll always remember you, no matter what form you take.”

The strange, fluttering feeling in his chest returned, coursing through his veins and flowing through his fingertips— subconsciously he pulled his hand away, fearing that those feelings would somehow reach you.

It’s merely the chill of the night air, he told himself.

You said nothing as he pulled away, but Rex Lapis found himself wishing you would say something, anything; complain, or make a joke out of it, or perhaps even ask him to do it again— no, he couldn’t dare dream of that.

Not for your sake.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” You said suddenly, breaking the silence and the maze of thoughts his mind was trapped in.

Rex Lapis looked to the moon over Liyue Harbor, admiring the way it bathed the city in silver light. Though Liyue in the daytime was loud, filled with many colours and sounds that overwhelmed the senses, this version of Liyue was also beautiful to behold.

Perhaps... perhaps this is what she meant by living treasure, he thought to himself.

Caring for this city of people, nurturing them and building a better future for them and the future generations— that was certainly something close to his heart. It didn’t feel exactly like the living treasure he had expected, but as long as you were there to watch over Liyue with him, then perhaps... perhaps it would grow on him as time passed.

“Yes,” he agreed. “It truly is.”

But that evening, he failed to notice that you weren’t looking at the moon.

[anika-ann]

My Timid Hello, My Clumsy Goodbye (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, canon semi-compliant?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Barton!reader    Word count: 8900 (...sorry)

Summary: You’re spending the evening and the night before your wedding with the two most important men of your life.

When the sun rises again, you’ll say your ‘I do’ in a close circle of friends and family. It’s not a goodbye to your old life and it’s not a hello to some enormous change; but you will no longer be a Barton. You will be a Rogers. Why not reminisce a bit? 

Warnings: mention of an abandoned baby, blood and injuries, alcohol, implied possibly rougher sex (nothing graphic) ...mature?, language, so much sappiness... let me know if I missed any

A/N: For what-is-your-backupplan-today 10th anniversary of CA:TFA challenge. Prompts in bold. Thank you for coming up with this wonderful theme and hosting this challenge! Long live CA:TFA!

A/N: Throughout the fic, you’ll find snippets of lyrics from SYML’s "Everything All At Once”. Honestly, the song has a completely different meaning to me, but tearing it out of context works for this story just fine :) When you’re done reading, I recommend the music video. It friggin’ broke me in the worst and best ways. Enjoy!

This is my hello This is my clumsy goodbye I'm putting my glass down I wanna remember tonight

Tony rented an island for you. Clint nearly passed out learning about it and grumbled for days about having a hard time to top that, which, no arguing, was understandable.

It was an incredibly extravagant thing to do, throwing around money that could have been used for a much more honourable cause, but you couldn’t complain. One should not look a gifted horse into mouth – and so you didn’t.

Because Tony Stark renting an island was his premature wedding gift. The fact that your brother bitched about not being able to top that, well, that was his problem. You were certain that deep down, he knew you didn’t need any fancy gifts like that.

Then again, Tony’s gift might have been epically overpriced, but not exactly unthoughtful; along with a private island came a private jet and you being literally flied under radar so no single paparazzi knew where you and America’s golden boy Steve Rogers would seal the deal with your ‘I do.’ So, you were everything but ungrateful to your friend that he succeeded at pulling off such covert operation; and frankly, this place was nothing short of wonderful.

The golden sand was pleasantly warm under your toes as you as you and Clint walked towards the two single beach chairs facing the ocean. Wearing bikini under the baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts, sunglasses on top of your head, because why would you deprive yourself the gorgeous view of the sun beginning to set down, you followed your brother – not in blood but in every other sense – to the seats, allured by the view, the serenity and the cold sixpack in his hand.

You had already had a traditional bachelorette party with your girls – with the team, with your family. Natasha, Wanda, Pepper, Sharon and Maria. The night had been the perfect blend of what was considered typically feminine, dress up, fanciness and wine and gossip, and a fun night out with shots, dancing, karaoke and pool. That particular night sadly was interrupted shortly by an annoying photographer, but he soon understood it was not very clever to annoy three and a half Avengers or the CEO of Stark Industries for that matter.

Clint however… Clint deserved a special evening with you. With the rest of the team in various state of chilling out, scattered around the luxurious small houses and gorgeous beaches, you two were left the privacy such moment required.

Even if the special moment consisted of simple talking and drinking beer while watching the sun set, a symbolic end of one phase of your life – a phase that was undeniably tied to the famous and yet barely known archer, one of the seven defenders who rushed into the Battle of New York to save the Earth.

One of the seven had been your brother, having previously been controlled by the monster who brought an army from outer space; there was no questioning whether you would join the fight or not, no matter how you preferred the latter part of your field medic job title to the former.

Another of these brave people, as it turned out, was your future husband. A man you had met for the first time that day, but whom you didn’t hesitate to push back down when he got hit by a freaking alien weapon and stood up, wanting to shake it off as if it was nothing. Your medical training told you not to let him; and your stubbornness had been just a touch stronger than his that day.

Apparently, Steve found you always standing your ground to be one of your most endearing qualities.

What a fancy way to express it instead of simply calling you a stubborn pain in his ass.

“You’re lost in your head, Twinkie,” Clint hummed, playfully nudging your ribs with an elbow, bringing you back to the present.

Your nose automatically scrunched at the childhood nickname.

“You gotta stop calling me that, Bobo,” you retorted, a grin spreading on your face as it was his turn to grimace.

You knew it was nothing but an act and that he in fact loved that nickname, because it held so much sentiment, so many memories… as did his endearment for you.

Bobo had been your first word or so Clint always claimed. Obviously, you wouldn’t remember.

You wouldn’t remember your parents, having been only two days old when your mother left you with a damn circus which was in your hometown at the time. You couldn’t recall how you wouldn’t stop crying until you heard a seven-year-old Clint humming a lullaby for you, with silly replacements of lyrics that always made you laugh later on when you could understand them.

How he started calling you Twinkie, because he was a sugar addict and apparently, you were sweet and small and he liked you; so much that he soon appointed himself to be your brother, your bro, your Bobo.

Once you were older and learned that your involuntary nickname for him also meant ‘crazy’ in Spanish, you were sold to that Bobo endearment forever.

Including the night before your wedding.

“You keep zoning out on me, Kid. Getting cold feet?” Clint hummed, casually handing you a can of beer, opening it up for you.

You automatically reached out and took a sip, eyes fixed on the warm colour on the horizon. What a ridiculous question… but kind and caring, with a hidden promise of getting you out of here if you just asked. Your amazing, protective, crazy brother.

You couldn’t but smile widely, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

“You offering to kidnap the bride, Clint? I’d like to see you try. You were always better at trapeze than at being an escape artist.”

Clint scoffed. “Please. These are amateurs. I bet I could pull it off.”  

That drew a laugh from you.

“Are you calling the Avengers amateurs? Better yet, are you calling your wife an amateur?” you teased him, watching his face lose colour when he realized that he did exactly that. You leaned over and patted his thigh. “Don’t worry, Bobo. I won’t tell Nat.”

Clint visibly relaxed, but a shadow of worry twisting his expression.

“Seriously though. Where’s your head at, Kid?”

You just shrugged, smile resting on your lips as you wondered if you ever felt so relaxed. It went along well with the reminiscing of the past and despite the fact that tomorrow was a big day and you should probably be nervous, you weren’t. Not in the slightest, more like the opposite. You were giddy even; it dawned to you that nothing in your life had ever felt so right.

No moment in your life offered you such serenity to your heart, your shoulders free of any weight, body light as air.

“Just taking a trip down the memory lane. Thinking about how lucky I was to be dropped at your circus of all circuses of the world,” you grinned at Clint, your tone remaining completely serious.

Because you were being serious – words couldn’t express how grateful for everything that led to this moment you were. How grateful you were to your brother for watching over you, making sure you would always see the light of a new day, guiding you when you found yourself in a dark.

Clint didn’t react beside his fingers twitching and you knew he was giving you the chance to say what you needed to say.

“About how you taught me pretty much everything I know. About how while I might not be the best person in the world, my brother, who is the best brother ever, made me into a decent person and I owe him everything I am. And how I should probably feel guilty for tying myself to another guy who just swept in and whisked away your little sister.”

Clint stared at you, gulping as his eyes gradually filled with tears. You found yourself in a very cheesy moment, bordering on absurd and it was almost too much to handle – but Clint took a deep breath, cleared his throat and swallowed his tears.

“Well, that bastard did steal my greatest life achievement with way too little effort,” he remarked, voice cracking slightly, the image of him causing your eyes to burn as well even if his words made you both tear up and burst out laughing.

“Dammit, Clint, stop making me laugh and cry at the same time…”

“You started it!” he pointed his index finger at you accusingly, taking a large sip of his beer to drown his sentiment. “But for the record, you should not feel guilty. It’s not like you’re leaving me.”

“I know, but-“

“And if you were, you’d be leaving me in good hands.”

“That’s true, Natasha does have a grip on you and might keep you outta trouble-“

“She’s the one who gets me into trouble half of the time!” Clint cried out in protest and you would have argued if it wasn’t the truth.

But before he had met her, Clint was able to make up his own trouble just fine – he was more than half of a reason why while doing a bit of trapeze yourself, you also grew interested in medical care. Because who else than the little sister should treat her big brother’s wounds when he got too crazy?

“In all seriousness, I’m proud of you, Twinkie,” he said sincerely, one corner of his lips raised in a lopsided smile. “You’re entirely entitled to have your own life and if there’s one guy in this whole damn world I’m willing to trust to have you… well, I guess it’s that big blond dumbass.”

“He can be a bit dumb of ass occasionally, can’t he?” you mused lovingly. “I guess it’s right what they say… we do pick our partners similar to our parents, maybe not only in looks. I didn’t really have a dad, I had you, so…”

Clint sighed, smile widening, before it slipped from his face as he caught up on the not-so-hidden insult.

“Hey!”

You couldn’t but laugh at his shocked expression, accidently spilling a splosh of beer on the sand.

“Just… maybe make sure that even married, you still find time to hang out with your big dumb of ass brother every once in a while?” Clint suggested, sounding surprisingly vulnerable.

Your whole demander softened, a little pang of guilt stinging in your heart as he took your words too seriously – and at his worry.

“Clint… I will always find time for my amazing brother.”

“Well, you’re marrying a pretty amazing guy too, so, you know, I understand the dilemma…”

You snorted when he seemed to genuinely fawn over your future husband, shaking your head before downing the rest of your drink.

“As amazing as Steve might be – and gosh, he is, don’t get me started – you still own a pretty big chunk of my heart.”

“Good. You are a Barton at heart,” Clint hummed, pretending that a few tears didn’t roll down his cheeks, leaning towards you as his expression once again grew serious.

Your chest tightened. Oh no. He was gonna say something to make you cry too – as if you already weren’t at verge of crying, emotions bubbling under the surface.

“Clint-“ you warned him silently, but he spoke up anyway and you gulped, bracing yourself.

“Just… whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are. Not a perfect housewife, but a good woman.”

That was not what you were prepared for, as touching as the sentiment was.

You burst out laughing, head thrown back, hands clutching at your stomach as it actually hurt with the sudden clench. Tears did spring from your eyes, a perfect blend of touched and infinitely amused at your brother’s words.

“Har, har, that’s what I get from trying to speak from heart…” Clint muttered grumpily and you willed yourself to calm your hitching breaths as you looked at him, the pout of his mouth causing you to cackle again.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just… I am moved, I really am. Thank you. But me? A perfect housewife? And you realize I’m marrying Steve Rogers, right? The epitome of a good man? He would probably threaten to sock me in a jaw if I tried to change into something I’m not just for his sake and actually sock me in my jaw if I turned into a bad woman.”

Clint’s eyebrows jumped, a smirk appearing on his face. “That’s a lot of punching.”  

“My thoughts exactly,” you agreed, reaching for another can, pausing when a thought occurred to you. “Just so we’re clear, I might turn into a bit of a housewife when we have kids, alright? And I want to be a good wife, a good partner to Steve, which is what I’m trying to do even now.”

“I mean, yeah, sure, wouldn’t expect anything less. But… just promise me you’ll stay you and that you’ll keep giving him a run for his money, keep him on his toes a bit,” Clint shrugged with a grin, drawing another chuckle from you.

You saw his point – and you fully intended to keep Steve on his toes. You had a good reason to believe that your future husband enjoyed when you did.

“Oh Clinton… I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He nodded contentedly, picking up another beer and raising it for a toast, his can clinking with yours.

“Cheers to that!”

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you then, a quiet joy wrapped in one moment; the sun ending its quest, the warm breeze in your hair, the waves whispering of a journey you were about to take off to. And all that with a wordless comforting presence of your family, ready to offer you a shelter if a storm rocked your boat and the wind caused you to lose course.

As your mind wandered, you had to laugh at yourself – it was almost as if you were raised by pirates and not circus performers. Perhaps it was the little bit of free cheeky spirit these life journeys had in common what brought the metaphor to your mind. It was a bit like working with the Avengers too, always on a road, adrenaline in your veins even as you mostly stayed on the jet, ready to assist them… yet here you were pondering that maybe, you were yearning for settling down a bit more.

“Cap wouldn’t punch you anyway, right?” Clint remarked, breaking the silence and you blinked yourself back into reality, taking a moment to figure out what he was talking about.

Oh. Right. Steve punching you if you changed yourself significantly for his benefit.

You smiled softly, heart swelling in affection when the answer to that question appeared obvious.

“No, he wouldn’t.”

“Good. He’d try once and I’d put an arrow straight between his eyes,” Clint promised darkly, almost causing you to choke at the sudden violent note. He quickly fixed it with a ramble, lightening the atmosphere yet again. “Minus training of course. He’s allowed to try in order to improve your hand-to-hand. Not that he would ever land a hand on you anyway. Always so soft on you…” he grinned, seemingly alright with that attitude if not slightly calling the big strong supersoldier out.

Oh you could be cheeky too alright if that was what your brother wanted.

“That you know of.”

A confused huh was the only reaction you got – that and a puzzled look.

“He’s always soft on me,” you repeated Clint’s words, turning to him, lips slowly spreading in a wicked smirk. “That you know of.”

Clint’s brows furrowed for a short moment and then his features twisted in a disgusted grimace, face growing a tint crimson.

“Gross!” he complained, more blood rushing to his cheeks. “You know what, I changed my mind. We’re leaving. You’re not marrying him. I’m kidnapping the bride and never returning her, locking her somewhere far far away-“

You snorted at his indignation, your grin undoubtedly battling the one of the Cheshire cat.

“No will do, Bobo. I’m marrying Steve and you can’t stop me.”

This time, Clint didn’t even protest, eyes misted over, nose still scrunched at the mental image, lamenting as the night slowly settled over the paradise-like island.

“Oh god, please help, I can’t unsee it, can’t unhear it--- ew-”

Your laughter was carried away by the breeze as Clint seemed to be unable to look at you.

You swung your beer around, thinking that yes – nothing quite ever felt so right as being here in this moment. Relaxing with your brother, teasing him relentlessly and counting down hours to when you’d say ‘I do’ to the only man who in your eyes ever battled the mantle of the best man in the universe.

In one unending moment You fall within my reach I'm close enough to whisper Hold on to me Hold on to me

You weren’t sure what time it was when you snuck into the beach house, one of few, which had been wisely chosen to be occupied by you and Steve only. You attempted to be quiet and liked to think you succeeded, in your even barely tipsy state, but your effort turned out to be in vain as you found Steve perched against headboard of your bed; reading a book, thin white t-shirt and sleep shorts on display as the soft sheet had been kicked away, scrunched up by his feet.

He was gorgeous – he was gorgeous and yours, a momentary picture perfect of peace, appearing to feel just as light as you did and somehow the dullness of the moment, just him relaxing in bed with a good read as you came home… it was more alluring than one would think.

Steve looked up from the book when you wavered in the doorway, soft lopsided smile spreading on his face.

God, that smile. It might be over two years since you saw it for the first time, but it could still make you weak in your knees.

And somehow, it was now even more charming now than the day you met, more tender than just before you kissed for the first time, sweeter than when he proposed.

“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted you, appreciative gaze roaming your figure and the little too much skin on display – something you regretted when the warm sunrays had bid you goodbye, raising goosebumps. And Steve, the attentive man he was, noticed, his smile earning a teasing edge. “You look a bit cold in there.”

You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out.

“And you look pretty cosy in there. Thought you’d be either asleep or with Bucky.”

Steve shrugged, not letting go of his unfinished chapter just yet, knowing you had a routine to go through before joining him.

“Maybe I missed you. Maybe Bucky is an old man and needs his sleep.”

You chuckled, not rising to the bait – you knew what would follow if you dared to say Steve was just as old. Not that you would complain about Steve trying to convince you about the opposite. You could never.

“Well, I bet he still made you a promise of breaking a bone of mine or two if I ever hurt you. He’ll find energy for that, centenarian or not,” you hummed nonchalantly as you bounced off the doorframe, heading to the bathroom and leaving Steve puzzled by your remark.

“How did you know?” he called out after you, endearingly confused.

“That’s what big brothers do, love!”

Short silence was your answer as you reached for your toothbrush and begun your nighty ritual.

Steve must have figure out what did it mean for him, considering you had a protective brother of your own, because a moment later, his half-amused “noted!” reached your ears.

You chuckled and shook your head, smile spread on your face which you didn’t think could be erased as long as you were in this paradise – free of worry, full of joy. And why wouldn’t you be? You were about to marry one of the smartest, kindest, sassiest and most beautiful men that ever walked the Earth. What was not to love?

You couldn’t but let your mind wander again; if you had only known the day you met, right from that moment, that you’d end up here…. well. It felt a little surreal, knowing that by this time tomorrow, you’d be Steve’s wife; then again, Steve’s life story was surreal enough on its own.

Who would have thought that the stubborn handsome man in the ridiculous suit and you, equally stubborn about you at least checking on the wound upon half-dragging him to a quiet corner in a middle of a battlefield, would grow so close?

It hadn’t been simple. Steve wasn’t the most open guy and while friendly enough, he wasn’t exactly offering his heart on his sleeve, not to strangers. But it hadn’t been too hard, once you were meeting on regular basis. Piece by piece he revealed his true colours and soon after he did… you started falling; hard and fast.

Not necessarily swooning, not on the outside at least; you were a professional, after all. The safety and the well-being of the team was your priority.

It was just too bad – or the best thing, you supposed – that Steve had the same goal as you with one significant difference; as far as he was concerned, the responsibility to look after his team sometimes excluded him.

Oh, was he wrong about that.

And boy, did you let him know you thought so. You still kept proving him wrong to this day and was planning on nurturing his own acknowledgement of his self-worth till your last breath…

“Get your ass in here, Steve!” you called out after him, slowly losing patience as you had tried asking politely the previous two times with no result but being dismissed.

The change of tone and language made his head snap to you from where he was talking to Sam, an offended scowl on his face.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Captain. Don’t be a stubborn jerk and get your ass in here so I can clean your cuts.”

A few months ago, you wouldn’t have been able to talk to him like that; to the great legend, Captain America. At least you certainly wouldn’t have called him his first name and maybe, just maybe, you’d be a little less crass. But now? He might be Captain America still, a hero who deserved all the good things for the sacrifices he made for the world’s safety, but first and foremost, he was just Steve to you.

A colleague, a teammate, a friend. You might not be a part of the team per se, not the way Clint, Natasha or Steve were, but you still belonged. And you were all friends.

Friends irritated each other sometimes and frankly, Steve was often battling with Tony for the mantle of the most infuriating one.

Friends also needed to call each other out on their bullshit by any means necessary when the time was right and now the time was as good as any.

Usually, Steve slipped through your fingers, because he was a supersoldier and the others weren’t, so their injuries took precedence; today, it was only Natasha, Sam and Steve, and the captain was the only one whom you hadn’t checked yet. And you knew there were things to check, the trickle of blood from his eyebrow probably the least of your concerns.

“I wouldn’t argue with her, Steve. She can be pretty stubborn. Clint wouldn’t stop complaining about it,” Natasha supported you from the pilot seat and you fought yourself so you wouldn’t grin at her in victory – it would only irritated Steve further. “She’s almost as bull-headed as you are.”

At that, your smile would have slipped. But honestly, she wasn’t wrong.

“Don’t I know it,” Steve grunted, sparing Sam another glance and when the Falcon himself beckoned to you as well, wordlessly asking Steve to get himself checked up.

The captain sighed irately, but made his way back to the separate and well-lit space of your examination room.

He didn’t try to hide his annoyance – in fact, he squared his shoulders and his steps sounded a bit loud for anyone to believe it was a coincidence. Also, the scowl of exasperation never left his otherwise handsome face.

“This is completely unnecessary. A stupid waste of time,” he hissed as he walked past you and you took a deep calming breath, exchanging an eyeroll with Sam before you disappeared from sight.

“Captain. I respect you and your position, but you say one more time that my job here is unnecessary and stupid, you’ll be looking for a new medic,” you retorted as he stripped the upper part of his uniform angrily, revealing his white-tank-top-clad torso.

Well, at least the fabric used to be white – now a blood stain the size of both of your palms was seeping into the material at Steve’s right side, gushing from what definitely appeared to be a knife wound.

You were gonna murder him one of those days... unless he got killed himself first.

“Seriously?!”

“It’s just a graze-” he started to argue but you cut him off when you tore the fabric away. He winced as some of the dried blood had acted as a glue, having stuck the cloth into the wound, and now was violently ripped off.

“Tr to insinuate again that I’m incompetent at recognizing what’s just a graze, Steve. I dare you. This is a cut wide and deep enough for stitches! Haven’t you had the serum, you could have been bleeding out to death on this table!”

“But I do have it-“

“Or for fuck’s SAKE, stop being a baby and let me treat the bloody gash in your right mesogastric area! The serum accelerates your healing, but it doesn’t make you invincible OR immortal as far as I know--- Jesus fucking Christ-!”

He bristled, taking a deep breath to fight back, but he never got the chance, because you started working and the words died in his throat. Surprisingly, inspecting the damage, poking around a knife wound that might have already begin to seal itself thanks to Erskine’s formula but had not been just a graze hurt and coincidentally, it pulled the rug from under his feet.

To his credit, Steve barely even hissed at the pain.

“Just so you know, I’ll be using the disinfection that stings worse,” you noted, voice dripping venom, because you were genuinely done with Steve’s bullshit.

You lied through your teeth though. You wouldn’t. No matter how infuriating Steve was and how difficult he made your life – causing you to fall for his stupid martyr ass and pine after him among other things – you would never purposely hurt him.

And he must have sensed that, because your remark didn’t earn you a murderous glare or a retort – much to your surprise.

In fact, Steve fell entirely quiet, watching you work without protest, not even objecting when you applied enough local anaesthetic to knock out an elephant and sewed the tissue together so it healed easier. He let you inspect the rest of his torso and bandage his ribs, vigorously shaking his head when you asked him if he was injured anywhere below the waist.

He observed you as you kept an eye on his face for any minute sign of pain he’d be hiding, but all you could see were his irises, startlingly bright blue, pools of honesty and something you had trouble decoding. He seemed… humbled almost. It silenced the anger inside you, the flames of rage – and fear for his well-being, if you were being honest with yourself – turning into a barely smouldering pile of ash.

When you moved on to his head, gently pushing away the strands which obscured the gash on his eyebrow, his eyelids slid shut. You knew how unpleasant facial injuries were, especially around one’s eyes and so you took care to be extra careful as you cleaned the wound and the area surrounding it, most definitely not using the stingy disinfectant.

Not that Steve could get an infection as far as you knew. It was more force of a habit than anything else… and it made you feel better. He had this idiotic mask of an invincible hero he put up sometimes and it drove you insane, because you knew he was only human, a beautiful kind soul, but god, could he be an ass.

“Almost done,” you whispered soothingly when you noticed his jaw tightening as you had to apply a bit more pressure to get a tiny piece of gravel from the cut. You certainly didn’t want that to stay under the newly healing skin.

The moment you retreated with the bloody gauze, Steve’s eyes were back on you, wide and regretful.

“I’m sorry,” he offered quietly, a genuine apology that sounded almost absurd after you two were hissing at each other like damn hellcats. “I didn’t mean to--- I’m sorry for being rude and ungrateful. Thank you for taking care of my injuries.”

One glance into those deep irises and benign hesitant smile and you were done for. How could you stay mad at him? Well, you were still mad at him for the absolute disregard of his own health, but… well. You also understood he felt like he needed to stay strong for the team and put them first and how he actually was in pain.

Pretty much everyone was a pain in the ass when in pain.

You sighed as you searched for few band-aid strips to cover the cut.  

“It’s alright, Steve. I’m used to old men being grumpy and not meaning things they say when they are,” you offered lightly and he hung his head with a chuckle, clearly not taking the old man remark personally – and understanding you were referring to your brother.

His smile was wider when he looked up again. “You shouldn’t have to be used to it.”

You shrugged, carefully slipping two fingers under his chin to angle his face so you could stick the strips over the wound.

“Well, I deserve it sometimes. I don’t mean to… to be overbearing and make you feel like you’re incompetent or something,” you added hesitantly, worrying your teeth over your lower lip as the tone you’d been handling him with caught up with you. Perhaps you could have been nicer.

You smoothened the stripes of band-aid, gulping as you felt Steve’s gaze boring into your face while you continued.

“I know you’re not incompetent. You’re very capable, you’re the best. It’s just… I still--- worry- for all of you. For the full-time Earth’s mightiest heroes. Silly, huh?” you muttered self-depreciatingly and when your eyes met, you were startled by the intensity he watched you with as you laid your fears bare in front of him, leaving you vulnerable. You swiftly looked away and dropped your hands. “Here, almost as good as new.”

A lump grew in your throat as you stripped your gloves, tossing them into the bin. Did you reveal too much? Didn’t it sound silly indeed as you said it out loud? Yes, you were all friendly with each other, but you were supposed to be a professional, focused on your task, not getting distracted by-

-by Steve gently grasping your wrist, causing your heart to skip a startled beat. Definitely not getting weak in the knees when you shot him a surprised glance and he just… brought your hand to his face, lips briefly skimming over your knuckles.

Jesus Christ, Lord have mercy with me.

“Don’t you ever apologize for caring. Don’t stop caring. Silly is the last thing I’d call it.”

Your cheeks felt like set on fire, stomach fluttering as well as your heart. You could feel the ghost of Steve’s lips on your skin, sending your heartrate sky-high, causing your head to spin a bit, your body hot all over.

Did he really—did he just-? And did it mean that… did it mean anything at all?

He let go of your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles, but held your gaze adamantly as he gave you a sad smile and rose to his feet, clearly ready to leave.

You, on the hand, stood there frozen, mind racing.

Why had he done that? Was he really just trying to express gratitude and say sorry for his previous behaviour? Because that was not the way it was supposed to be done, because such tenderness left you entirely bewildered. Was he trying to tell you he was somehow interested in something more than friendship? Was he just high from the anaesthetic, mind you, local one that was not supposed to mess with his brain? Was there any sign of a head injury you missed?

“Thank you, again,” he whispered softly, moving to sidestep you and your hand instinctively shot out, latching onto his forearm… gently.

You gulped, heart stuttering when he glanced at you, puzzled.

One part of you wanted to sink into the floor in embarrassment at your unwitting reaction. Another part of you observed him so closely that you would swear that there was another emotion in his eyes and it was neither apology nor gratitude. You wistfully hoped for longing, the same longing you felt when you were near him, sometimes distant and barely there, other times so acute it hurt.

With your stomach somersaulting in doubt, you willed yourself to raise your free hand slowly, purposely giving him a chance – Lord, please, don’t let him take it – to stop you before your palm settled on his cheek.

You were certain you experienced a small cardiac arrest when Steve not only didn’t avoid the touch, but actually leaned into it, gaze fixed on your face, eyes brighter and softer than you ever remembered seeing. Your gaze flickered to his mouth deliberately, throat turning dry. Too daring? He kissed you knuckles, surely you could reciprocate some affection?

Swallowing against your dry throat, you leaned in before you could change your mind and dropped the briefest peck to his lips, causing his eyelids to flutter shut.

Oh no. Oh no no no no, you totally crossed a line-

You went to retreat your hands from him, but the second you moved, his eyes were snapping open, hand covering yours on his face to keep it there, the other cradling your face and then there was a warm and soft sensation on your own lips as he seized them with his.

Your mind went completely blank save two single thoughts: Steve is kissing me. I really like that.

A small sound escaped you, a blend of surprise and contentment, breaking you from your trance and turning you into an actual participant of the pleasant and entirely unexpected activity.

You drew in a small breath, head spinning from the scent of Steve’s shampoo, disinfectant, sweat and something you couldn’t quite put your finger on and not caring.

He tasted faintly of blood, but otherwise was nothing but sweet as his lips caressed yours, gently tugging at your lower lip and then the upper, the lightest graze of teeth and tease of tongue, finger pressing into your jaw to pull you closer, thumb stroking your cheek.

You whimpered involuntarily when his lips parted from yours, soothing as they returned for a short peck, to drop a brief kiss to the corner of your mouth, to brush your cheek.

Your name was a breathy whisper between the two of you, barely audible as all you could hear was your heartbeat pulsing frantically in your ears, growing aware of your fingers clutching at Steve’s still unzipped armour and nearly sinking in his hair, his hot breath tickling your skin.

You didn’t dare to open your eyes – what if you dreamed it up? What if you looked at him and saw regret – it didn’t feel like he would be regretting it, but… still. Insecurity tugged at your mind as it slowly cleared from the literally breath-taking kiss.

Steve repeated your name with urgency that was unheard of, the single word sounding almost as a plea.

“Please say something.”

Oh.

You blinked your eyes open, surprised to be met with his searching gaze, a minute furrow of his brows. It seemed you weren’t the only one whose mind was being the worst of one’s enemies.

Perhaps your brain was being stupid. Perhaps you both wanted this. Perhaps you felt exactly the same.

As you forced yourself to move, fingers actually slipping into his hair to caress his nape, Steve inhaled shakily, shoulders slumping. The tinniest of smiles tugged at his mouth, tempting red and minutely swollen from the kiss; you had to resist the urge to just taste it again.

Instead, you licked your lips only, savouring the previous sensations, smiling unwittingly.

“That’s… uhm, that’s a really creative new way of driving me crazy.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose along with one corner of his mouth, relief written all over his face.

“Oh? There are other ways in which I’m driving you crazy? Because I couldn’t tell...”

You narrowed your eyes, but you didn’t think he bought you unconvincing act of being irritated with him at such remark.

“Don’t push it, Captain,” you warned him, but your treacherous mouth kept curling up in a smile, your body still buzzing with aftershocks of the kiss.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Uh-huh… s-sure,” you stuttered briefly as his thumb caressed your cheek, bright smiling eyes watching only inches from your face – and yet it felt like he was too far.

“You’re driving me crazy too, you know,” he noted in a breathy voice, causing you to gulp as his gaze flickered to your mouth, clearly implying how you do so… among other ways… like your stubbornness practically matching his.

“Oh really? I do? I couldn’t tell…”

He chuckled, his hand slipping to your nape, soft tickle of his fingers making you squirm.

“I’m gonna kiss you again now if that’s okay,” he whispered, not waiting for your permission and erasing the distance between your lips again.

Still, you whispered your approval to his mouth.

“So okay…”

Long moments later when Sam called out to warn you that you’d be landing soon, you said yes to the grumpy old man’s request to let him treat you dinner.

Oh if you only knew by then how far you’d come…

Lost in thought, goofy smile on your face, you exited the bathroom, ready to snuggle your future husband… and to fully take the opportunity to make love, last night before you officially became his and he became yours.

You had a brief second to register that the bed was empty, your heart skipping a started and disappointed beat. The second you stepped out though, you were literally swept off your feet.

A yelp erupted from your throat as you found yourself with no ground under your feet and high in the air, one of Steve’s arms under your knees, the other under your back. Your hands frantically gripped at the nearest firm point, Steve’s shoulder and arm as you finally realized what the hell happened and was met with a cheeky grin and sparkling blue of his eyes.

That traitor was waiting just by the door to ambush you! Why?

You slapped his very much bare shoulder playfully, hissing a curse, not unaware of the heat radiating of him and seeping into your skin.

“You jerk! You almost gave me a heart attack!” you complained, but he didn’t even have the decency to look apologetic.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

“No, you’re not.”

Steve grinned wider, shrugging and pulling you closer to his torso, nuzzling your temple and dropping a placatory kiss there.

“Still looking a little cold.”

“No, I look like this because you scared me,” you emphasized, vainly trying to resist the seduction; a mixture of playfulness, sweetness and blatant display of strength as he still held you with ease. It was hard not to be temped. “And you look like you’re awfully warm, parading here without a shirt.”

“Well, I’d call us even since you’re parading around in these absolutely sinful shorts. Makes me hot. I can warm you up,” he mumbled to your skin, lips moving to your ear, causing you to shudder.

How was it so easy for him to make you all hot and bothered? You guessed that at least, as he said, it made you even... it wasn’t difficult to get him riled up either.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Driving you crazy?” Steve offered, sounding awfully delighted at the idea and you only melted into him further at the reminiscence of your first kiss and what followed.

“Always,” you confirmed, deadly serious, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips or the mewl that escaped you when his teeth grazed the shell of your ear, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.

“But you love it.”

“Uh-huh…”

“I can live with that with that then,” he said, stalking to the bed determinately. “Now let me drive you so crazy you can barely speak and the only sound you’re making is whimpering my name.”

He all but tossed you on the bed, a yelp of his name in fact erupting from your throat, followed by a fit of giggles that only died when his mouth seized yours, his lips only leaving when heading south to indeed drive you crazy.

And yes; you loved it.

And you loved him too.

In one unending moment I fall within your reach My song a sweet surrender Hold on to me Hold on to me

Before the girls could steal you from him, Steve decided – with your enthusiastic agreement – that you should once again try how it felt to make some morning lovin’ outside marriage. With the ceremony planned for the late afternoon, you had plenty of time; and needless to say, it was bliss. Then again, you believed that marital sex with Steve would be just as delightfully pleasant, thank you very much.

Then, it was a whirlwind – make up, hair, dress, a tear or two spilled when you saw the result in the mirror.

More tears spilled when you glanced out of the window and saw the tastefully and modestly decorated arch, the path created by few scattered rose petals, the male part of your almost family sans Clint in the suits, effectively hiding Steve from you; and you from his just in case, because no one wanted any bad luck.

Your staring was interrupted when your brother went to pick you up to lead you down the aisle.

Upon entering the room and setting his gaze on you, he promptly looked away with a sniffle. It both warmed your heart and made you laugh as did his remark.

“Nope, not giving you to him. In fact, I’m never giving you to anyone. No one will ever be worthy, so I’m keeping you.”

“Hush, Clinton, you’ll still have me,” Natasha winked at him as he took a deep calming breath before carefully eyeing you again.

Clearly, it hadn’t done the job, because few tears still found their way down his cheeks.

“You’re a knock-out, sis,” he sputtered hastily, but no less honestly – clearly moved to tears.

And yet… you snorted at his choice of words and he rolled his eyes, quick to compliment your beauty instead.

You wouldn’t have it any other way though, even appreciating his first remark more for it came from the bottom of his heart rather than from what convention required.

Embracing you carefully in fear he would mess up the work of art his wife and other girls created, he held you in his arms for a moment, as you retuned the hug, clutching at his suit with a little too force. From the corner of your eye, you noticed the bridesmaids clearing the room.

“It’s not like I’m leaving you, Bobo,” you hummed with a smile, throwing his own words from last night at him.

And you weren’t leaving him; your heart swelled with love for your brother, your father figure, your long-life friend.

With sniffle, he let go of you and looked you up and down, proud smile spreading on his lips.

“It’s okay. If you are, I have the best spy in the world for a wife, we’ll drag your ass back home.”

You just slapped his chest playfully and took a deep breath – it was time. Clint grasped your hand firmly then, elbows interlocking, and went to step out just a moment after the bridesmaids left to join the groomsmen.

Well-aware everyone was going to stare and that Steve awaited you at the end of the aisle to marry you, your legs were shaking minutely as the magnitude of the event finally dawned to you.

“Getting second thoughts now?” Clint teased you, eliciting a chuckle from you and shake of your head.

What a question.

“No. Just… please don’t let me fall,” you muttered to him, entirely serious and grateful for your choice of footwear – simple flats hidden by the long flowing skirt of your dress. Better chance of not spraining your ankle on your wedding day.

“Never.”

Clint squeezed your hand under his warm palm and you took a deep breath, stepping into the doorway. Soft melody welcomed you, your very own wedding march Bruce was playing on a mouth organ – something you had previously had no idea he was capable of.  

Looking up from your skirt, you feasted your eyes on the company and the beautiful scenery for only a regretfully short moment, grateful for Sam’s Redwing programmed to record and take photos.

Your gaze instinctively searched the small crowd instead, until it fell under the arch where three men stood.

One of them was Sam himself, having obtained a licence so he could be your wedding registrar; he looked positively dashing. So did Bucky, who patted his best friend dressed in his old-fashioned green captain uniform on the shoulder, his smirk visible even from tens feet away as he stepped back.

Naturally, your gaze lingered on Steve, your feet acting of their own accord and following your brother’s lead.

Gosh, your future husband was the most handsome and absolutely hottest specimen to ever walk the Earth. Hair combed neatly to one side and in his old army uniform, he truly looked like the gentleman from another era he was and yet, he undeniably belonged exactly where he was. His eyes were bright and blue just like the sky, lips slightly parting before curling up into a brilliant smile which somehow still carried the tenderness he treated you with when he felt particularly affectionate.

He must have uttered something under his breath, because Bucky pressed his lips together as if he was holding back laugh. The absolutely best best man, ladies and gentleman.

Your found yourself smiling just as widely, a stray tear tickling the corner of your eye and you had to fight the sudden urge to ditch Clint in order to gather your skirts and run the rest of the way just to jump into Steve’s arms.

But in reality, there was no rush – here, on the damn island Tony rented, there was so much time that one short walk meant nothing in comparison.

“Alright, maybe I’ll give you to him,” Clint whispered, making you bite the inside of your cheek so you would cackle.

Leave it to your brother he would find Steve Rogers so fine he’d be willing to give you out just to have him become a part of your family.

One corner of Steve’s lips twitched in amusement – supersoldier hearing didn’t miss the remark then. Good. Then Bucky heard it too and you had a witness just in case Clint would change his mind. Again.

Finally, with your heart almost in your throat, you reached the end of the aisle, Clint gently putting your hand into Steve’s… without letting go.

“You be nice to her, Cap. And I mean really nice, you hear? Or else-“

“Hush,” you hissed good-naturedly in your brother’s direction, winking at him before you returned your gaze to Steve. “Hey there, handsome.”

Steve chuckled under his breath when Clint stepped back. He returned the greeting with soft ‘hey there, beautiful’ and then proceeded to lift your joined hands, brushing your knuckles with his lips – just like the day you shared your first kiss.

Well now you truly found yourself on the verge of crying. And Lord, you wanted to kiss him so much-

Sam cleared his throat loudly, casting you both a meaningful look as if he could read your mind and wanted to remind you that there were a few things to go through before that could happen.

Ugh. Formalities. Just let me kiss him…

Steve licked his lips – the audacity! – and turned, lightly tugging at your hand so you both faced your friend who held a little leather book open, beckoning towards the guests: Bucky and Natasha, the best man and the best woman, Clint, Bruce, Tony, Vision, Wanda, Sharon, Pepper. Just your closest friends and family.

Sam cleared his throat again.

“Alright. We all know why we gathered here today. To get these two amazing people married, so they could officially become a special team within our team.”

You grinned, peripherally noticing Steve eyeing you as well. Team indeed.

“This is the part where I would ask all of you, bride and groom included, to speak up now if you’re aware of anything standing in the way of this wedlock or to remain silent forever. But frankly, if you have something to say, right now is the perfect time to keep it to yourself. Just let these lovebirds get married…”

Muffled laughter and giggles erupted from your group. Honestly, you wouldn’t say it better. You noticed Clint shifting and Natasha forcefully holding his hand down; you bit down on your lip so you wouldn’t laugh and sent her a grateful smile instead. The best maid of honour ever.

“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear, folks. We have the rings, correct? Great. Just so you know, these two saps asked me to read one vow which they are making to each other, because they didn’t trust themselves to say theirs individually without bursting into tears. So now it’s left to me to cry instead. Thanks for that.”

Your cheeks were honestly starting to hurt from smiling so wide, but tears prickled in your eyes acutely just at the thought of the vow you agreed on. You spent countless hours thinking about what you wanted to say and realized that your vow would be too long and that you would in fact start crying and that you could never name all the things you loved Steve for. It had been a relief to find out that Steve shared the sentiment and the deal was made.

Natasha and Bucky dutifully laid the rings on the pillow Wanda’s powers held levitating by your and Steve’s side – not without Bucky finding a split second to compliment your appearance and earning a brief smirk from Steve.

“I know,” Steve uttered and you wondered if there was a dare going around as to who would make you burst out laughing first.

This was your wedding dammit. You could be at least a bit a lady and remain collected.

Hardly.

“With this ring,” Sam started, breathing in and out and you knew you already lost, first tear rolling down your cheek as you gazed into Steve’s inviting eyes, “I give myself to you without giving up myself. With this ring, I surrender to you for I have faith you understand the value of wielding such power and for I deem you worthy of it. With this ring, I promise to love you, to respect you and to support you to be your best self as I trust you to do the same for me, for us.”

You blinked away the waterfalls, reaching almost blindly for Steve’s ring and with fingers trembling – with giddiness, not nerves – you somehow succeeded at slipping it on his left ring finger.

“I do,” you whispered, your voice cracking even in such simple sentence and the watery smile Steve graced you with made your ribcage feel too small for your swelling heart.

Fingers equally clumsy, he slipped a ring on you as well, shoulders squaring as if in pride.

“I do,” he said firmly, the damp path down his left cheek only adding severity to his vow.

“You may-- uhm, okay, you may kiss the bride, your wife--- I mean, Mrs. Rogers. You may kiss the groom, your husband…” Sam mumbled under his breath until he didn’t, because Steve pulled you in for a kiss the same moment Sam said the first ‘may’ and incidentally, the same moment you practically threw yourself at Steve.

Laughter and whistles erupted from the group of your friends as Steve bend you back dramatically, the determined press of his lips to yours not at all disrupted by the change of angle, claiming your mouth in ways that made you shudder and stirred flames in your belly.

Years and years later, you’d recall that kiss and realized an amazing thing; how it felt just like your first kiss, your last one, and every single one in between.

With you still practically horizontal, Steve’s crinkling eyes met yours, delighted smile on his kiss-swollen lips.

“I love you, Mrs. Rogers,” he hummed, adding a cheeky grin. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“The horror,” you muttered back teasingly, pulling at his nape, demanding another kiss, your own declaration whispered to his mouth. “I love you too, Mr. Rogers.”

And you did. Gosh, you did.

S.R. masterlist

(divider by firefly-graphics)

Well. This turned out SO DIFFERENTLY than I anticipated and SO MUCH LONGER. If you feel like leaving feedback, I’ll be grateful. If not, well. *shurgs*

Excuse me while I go and continue dreaming of ONE fictional man. Ugh. Anyway.

Thank you for reading!

And once again, thanks to WIYBUPT for hosting and for just being awesome in general :)

[holykillercake]

One Year

pairing: Zoro x Reader

word count: 2k

summary: No summary this time. I´ll just say this ¨Bartholomew Kuma and Sabaody¨. Read at your own risk. Seriously, ¨KUMA AND SABAODY¨, do you understand?

highlight: ¨Everyone did their best, but no one could have done better.¨

warnings: angst with happy ending; Sabaody Archipelago spoilers (?)

notes: Hey guys! This was a request from @roronoatrash​ in which ¨Zoro who has 0 sense of direction seemed to always find his way back to is s/o, and his s/o only.¨. I really hope you like it!💚 This is also the first time I write a Devil Fruit user, so I'm considering a sequel to develop the character and add more humor.

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊!

It was a cloudy and melancholic day in the New World. The men on board were leisurely enjoying their afternoon; some drinking, some napping, some eating. The air was humid and cold, and the tides were strangely calm. No one seemed to care. After all, that was the New World. 

¨Boss!¨ the lookout shouted from the crow's nest ¨Something is falling from the sky! It´s going to land on deck!¨

All men tilted their heads to look at the sky, watching a tiny black spot become bigger and more recognizable.

¨Is that what I think it is?¨ the captain asked himself, not believing his eyes.

¨Boss, is that a girl?¨

¨Yep, I think so.¨

They stood still watching what they suspected was a girl fall from the skies. The red-haired took a quick glimpse at his first-mate and officers, and since no one moved, he felt safe to assume that that was not a threat. Mainly because whatever was falling towards the ship looked dead already. 

The body fell through the main deck and went straight to the lower level of the ship. The captain and his officers stood around the hole on the wooden floor, observing the unconscious and injured body of a girl. 

¨I´ve seen some crazy things rain around here... but this is new.¨ he spoke.

They were ready to have someone dispose of the dead body when the girl opened her eyes, putting herself on her shaky legs. Blood dripped from her eyebrows and nose, and she had bruises all over. Her eyes wandered around as if she was looking for something.

¨Z-Zoro...¨ she spoke when her teary eyes met the captain´s ¨I-I need to find Zoro.¨ 

That was all she said before falling on her knees and collapsing. 

                                                             </>

Almost a year has passed since the tragedy in Sabaody Archipelago. A year passed since you were defeated in the fight against the marine force. Your gashes closed, and your bruises healed, but there was a wound that would not go away, even after one year. 

So much had happened since that day. Luffy had broken into Impel Down, fought in the Paramount War, and lost his brother, Ace. A few days later you received the hidden message he had left you, saying that you were no longer going to meet in Sabaody in three days but in two years.

It took you a while to understand the situation you and the rest of the Strawhats were in, and it took you even more to let go of your selfishness and trust them. The guilt for not being strong enough to protect yourself and your comrades ate you alive during the first weeks, but then you considered how they must be feeling too. No one could have done better. 

Everyone did their best, but no one could have done better. 

For one year, whenever a News Coo flew by to deliver a newspaper, you would run and grab it before anyone did, hoping to see another message from your friends. But the status of your captain was the only one you knew so far. You knew he was training with Rayleigh-san, and this whole two years thing should have been his idea. 

When Bartholomeu Kuma used his Devil Fruit powers on you, you ended up landing on the ship of the Red Hair Pirates. They would always tell you how you rained on their Red Force and broke the deck floor. They said you were looking for someone, and during your stay in the infirmary, you would always call for the same person. 

For months nightmares had you waking up in the middle of the night panting and crying. The same one, torturing you in an infinite and merciless loop. 

Every detail, color, and noise. Everything was so precise and clear in your head. 

When he fought still injured from the last encounter with the Shichibukai; when he stood up and faced the Warlord fearlessly. Even with the damages caused by Kizaru and the Pacifistas, he stood up. 

And maybe your eyes fooled you, maybe your exhausted body played a sick trick on you because he was there until he wasn´t.

 Right in front of your eyes.

 His cropped green hair and tanned skin, the vibrant red and white striped shirt, the scar across his chest, the haramaki, and the swords. Gone, simple as that. 

But after all the training that you had with the Red Hair Pirates, you seemed more in peace with yourself. After one year, the nightmares would bother you only every once in a while. You were not prepared for the New World before, maybe still aren´t, but you will get there. 

And they made everything easier. It was no mystery why Luffy liked them so much. Whenever you were not engaged in a fight or some other Emperor crap, those guys were incredibly light-spirited. And the moment they realized you were part of Luffy´s crew they treated your wounds and welcomed you onboard. 

Shanks agreed to have his men training you, but he made very clear that no one would babysit you, so it was ¨keep up or keep out.¨. You spent most of your time with Yassop, Benn, or Roux, for they were the best in the abilities you exercised. 

Inside the Strawhats you were a stealth agent, mostly because of your Devil Fruit, the Nagi Nagi no Mi, once possessed by a Marine Commander. Another Supernova, the Surgeon of Death Trafalgar Law had told you that before shit broke in Sabaody. 

You used that combined with your fighting skills to breach the enemy´s first line of defense before they saw you coming. Usually, Usopp would assist you with the sniper training, trade he ¨learned from a friend¨, Sogeking. 

His father was an extraordinary sniper, and he used the same kind of firearms as you, differently than Usopp´s slingshot. Benn´s combat skills were remarkable, and Roux was exceptionally fast for a man his size. You haven´t had a lot of opportunities to fight the Red Hair himself, though you had a strong will, his Haki was something you have never seen before. 

¨We´re going to a bar, kid. You´re coming?¨ Benn asked you with his cigarette on his lips. 

You pondered a little over his invitation but decided to decline it. ¨Thanks, Benn, but I´m keeping a low profile tonight.¨ He nodded and smiled, turning to follow his crewmates ¨Don´t drink too much, we have training tomorrow!¨ 

The first mate laughed shortly and spoke without looking at you ¨Roger that, kid.¨ 

You walked the opposite way, wandering between the vegetables and gimmicks tents, feeling the kind sunset kiss your skin. There was some music playing, kids running around with ice cream in their hands, laughing loudly and happily. Marketers were announcing their prices, housewives were thinking about delicious recipes to prepare for their families, and couples would sit together around the font, swearing love to each other.

Every day was like that. The citizens would wish their neighbors ¨good morning¨ from their windows; bakers would open the doors early, letting the delightful smell of fresh bread wake up those who slept in.  

How could you, in the middle of all that happiness, feel so sad and lost?

You sighed and made a route change. Maybe you needed a little bit of booze. 

The island where Shanks had decided to dock was in the Grand Line, a place where they were known and welcomed. So you knew where they were, and it would be a short walk to get there.

¨Y/N?¨ 

You turned automatically, thinking that a crew member had gotten lost and was looking for his captain - or boss, how he likes to be called.

 But when you saw the man standing in front of you, everything stopped. The music, the kids, and the love promises. 

At some point, you started to cry and hyperventilate, believing you were in another nightmare, and you would have to go through that day all over again. Your lover carried pain in his eyes as well, like his fears were the same as yours. 

Those minutes you stared at each other felt like hours while you kept every detail of him in your memory. His hair was slightly longer, and his complexion was paler, even with the sunset painting his skin. 

¨Z-Zoro...¨ you whispered shakily.

He gave a step forward ¨Y/N... it´s you...¨ 

You ran in his direction as soon as your name fell out of his mouth. Your arms embraced his neck, and your legs gave up when he held you tight against his body, whispering comforting words as you broke into tears. 

¨I...¨ nothing but sobs came out.

¨I know... me too.¨ he fondled your hair and hid his face in the curve of your neck. And there stood the both of you, not wanting to let the other go. 

                                                          </>

¨How did you know I was here?¨ you asked and he blushed a little.

¨I didn´t... I had to buy stuff for the castle, and I got lost.¨ a loud laugh came out of your mouth. It was so obvious, how didn´t you guess that?

¨They didn´t give you a log pose?¨

¨They did, but I took a nap and when I woke up, I was here.¨

You spent the rest of the day cuddling on the beach sand. Zoro was laying on his back, and you were resting on his chest. You had one year worth of conversation to catch up on, and neither of you rushed to do so. He told you about Mihawk, the creepy island in which the only native habitants were copycat human drills, the boat he destroyed, and even how he begged the Warlord to train him.

The sun had started to hide behind the sea, and the warm sand was cooling down. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore together with the salty breeze made you question if you had died at some point, and that was heaven.

¨You´re paler.¨ he chuckled.

¨It´s not very sunny where I´m living.¨ 

¨Hm...¨ you hummed ¨And how long did you take to figure out Luffy´s message?¨ 

¨Oh...¨ he thought for a second ¨ I knew right away.¨ you giggled and doodled on his chest with your finger. 

You felt his chest go up and down as he let out a sigh. 

¨I missed you, Y/N.¨ he hugged you tighter. 

¨I missed you too.¨ you stayed in silence for a few minutes ¨Anyway, when are you setting sail again?¨ You asked him softly, and he tensed up. ¨I know... ¨ your lips began to tremble ¨ I don´t want to go either, but what happened in Sabaody... I don´t want that to happen ever again.¨ you bit your lip as tears started to roll on your cheeks. 

He wiped the tears with his fingers and pulled you closer. None of you wanted to part ways again, but not only those were your captain´s order that was your future. If something like that happens again in the New World, a two-year separation would be the best scenario possible. 

¨It won´t. I promise.¨

When the night came, you decided to stay on the beach and talked until you fell asleep under the stars. The best sleep you´ve had in a long time. No nightmares, no agony, and no pain. Just the warmth and peace you missed so much.

On the following morning, you helped him get the provisions for Mihawk´s castle. You toured around the city holding hands and joking, kinda like the couples sitting by the font, enjoying every second you had before he left. 

If he didn´t get lost trying to go back to Kuraigana Island, it would be a quick trip. You assisted him with the bags and walked him to his boat. Your heart ached to say goodbye to him, but you had to. The circumstances were bigger than the two of you.

¨I love you, Zoro.¨ you hugged him and tried not to cry again.

¨I love you more, Y/N.¨

¨Careful with the naps, ok?¨ he chuckled and nodded ¨One year. We´ll meet again in one year.¨ 

¨Wait for me. I´ll go get you, and we´ll return to Sabaody together.¨ 

¨But how will you know where I will be?¨

¨It doesn´t matter where you´ll be. I´ll always find you.¨

[thatsgay-writes]

Leah x reader who is know to be the calm and nice one until she snaps when she found out Rachel held Leah underwater

You were the yang to Leah’s yin. The eye of Leah’s own personal hurricane. Literally one of the only reason Leah had managed to stay some what sane after everything that happened with Jeff. Overall, you were her saving grace. You fell, literally fell, into her life on a cloudy but bright Sunday afternoon.

---

You had just been jogging through the park, training for a marathon that your father made you run. Your dad was an over the top sports fanatic and forced you to do sports or things you didn’t want to do. If you didn’t comply, you got beat. One thing he never taught you was wrestling or MMA fighting because he didn’t need you to learn how to defend yourself. So you got it taught to you and joined an underground fighting ring to make money since your dad wouldn’t let you get a job. Fighting was a way to let out all the pain and anger in your life in a productive way, it also let you get out all the pent up negativity in your body. Outside of the fighting cage you were a bubbly person, you had decided from a early age that the world had enough negativity in it and that you wouldn’t participate in it.

Anyways, you had been jogging through the park on Sunday finally hitting your five mile mark and were ready to turn around when you ran smack into a person. You wrapped your arm around the girl, you could tell it was a girl after practically body slamming her, and turned your body so you would hit the ground instead of her. “Oof...” You let out as the gravel digs into your back. “Are you okay?” You ask as you look up at the girl laying on top of you. The brunette above you shook her head a little before looking at you. Her eyes widened comically as she took you in. A blush shone through as Leah realized she was laying on top of a beautiful girl... Laying on top? Laying on top! Leah realized she was still on top of you and immediately got up. “I am so sorry!” Leah says as she puts out a hand to help you to your feet. “Oh shit.” Leah says as she realizes her ice cream cone had been crushed between the two of you. Not even caring about her own ice cream covered shirt, she uses the napkins that had survived the fall to wipe your stomach clear of ice cream. You look at her in shock as this random girl you just ran into was now wiping your bare stomach clear of ice cream. Leah froze after a few minutes as she realized what she was doing. “I--- Um...”

---

You ended up getting a beating that night for taking too long on your run but you didn’t care. You had gotten the number of one of the most pretty girls you had ever met. After the first meet, you and Leah started seeing each other a lot more. You didn’t know how you missed that Leah went to your school but you definitely surprised her one day when you came up to her in the hallway, abandoning your jock friends and invited her to spend lunch with you. The rest was history.

---

You had only been on the island for three days before you got into a fight. It had started as a normal morning. You woke up next to Leah and gave her a kiss on the head before getting up. You sat down next to Fatin near the fire as Dot kept it going. “You two are cute.” Fatin said with a smirk. You feel your face heat up and gave a small shrug with a smile. “Well I love her so...” Fatin gave you a nudge causing you to laugh. Your brightness was one of the only things that kept some of the girls sane. Sure, Martha was bright as well and Shelby tried to stay upbeat, but something about you had seemed so pure and good and it put all the other girls at ease... Except for Rachel. She seemed to have a problem with you for no reason. Rachel just didn’t believe in your enthusiasm about staying positive. She also didn’t like Leah because of what happened with the phone and how suspicious she seemed of everything.

There had been a few moments where Rachel had angered you and made you mad but you managed to calm yourself down, like with what happened on the mountain. But you had remained calm after Leah reassured you multiple times that she was okay. Leah still didn’t know about your underground fighting but she would soon. “Rachel is fucking psychotic.” Leah mumbles to you as every sat in their own little groups doing whatever. Fatin and Dot sat with the two of you. “What happened?” Fatin asked, over hearing Leah. “She almost fucking drowned me for that black box.” Leah continues in disgust. “I tried to come back go back up for air after we had gone up and down twenty times and she grabbed my ankle and pulled me back down.” “She what.” You state deadly calm as Rachel finally hit the last straw of your patience.

All three girls looked at you in shock, they had never seen you so serious or quiet as you were at that moment. Leah was surprised to see anger flash through your eyes before you stood up. “Oh shit.” Fatin mumbled as she they watched you walk towards Rachel. The three girls you were just with stood up, concerned about what was going to happen. You walked by Martha, Shelby, and Toni as well who all watched you in concern as they noticed the other girls had stood up. Now you had a whole audience as you walked up to Rachel and Nora and tapped Rachel on the back. “What?” Rachel ask annoyed at being interrupted by you. “Stand up.” You said trying to seem as calm as possible. “Why?” Rachel asked, really testing your patience. Don’t break her nose, don’t break her nose... You kept repeating over and over again in your head as you repeated yourself. “Stand up.” Rachel rolled her eyes and stood up right in your face, eye to eye. Nora had stood up as well but moved away some when she noticed the tension between you and Rachel.

Without warning, and to everyone’s shock, you reared your fist back and punch Rachel hard across the face causing her to fall. You shook your hand as you started to walk away from her. “What the fuck!” Rachel roars as she stands back up. “What the fuck was that!?” You stop walking and turn around to face Rachel, ignoring the shocked and frozen looks from the other girls. “Well you almost drowned Leah earlier today at the plane wreck, that wasn’t about to let that go unchecked.” You stated, voice still icily calm. “It’s not my fault she can’t hold her breath long or whatever. Maybe she should learn how to swim correctly or some shit.” Rachel fires back annoyed. “Oh yeah? Says the girl who lied about going to Stanford for diving.” You say in a mocking tone as Rachel’s eyes got wide. “Yeah, you and Nora talk kind of loud.” You say with a smirk that got bigger as Rachel attempted to bum rush you out of anger. You dodge a upper cut aimed at your face and move to the side as Rachel stumbles past you.

You let out a chuckle and grin from the adrenaline rush you were getting, you hadn’t fought someone in weeks. “This is going to be fun.” You state with a big smile, causing Rachel to get even angrier. You took off your shirt, not wanting it to get ruined, and Fatin let out a low wolf whistle getting a elbow to the stomach from Leah. Leah on the other, not gonna lie, was turned on. Her girlfriend fighting for her, shirtless? Leah was in paradise. Rachel bum rushed you again but this time instead of dodging, you caught her fist and gave her a solid punch in the stomach. The two of you fought for what seemed like seconds but what was really a few minutes as Rachel tried to get the upper hand on you. Finally, you had gotten Rachel pinned down again and was holding her arm in position that could dislocate it if you pulled to hard. “Tap out.” You grunted as Rachel tried to get out of your hold. She had blood dripping out of her nose and on to the sand and also sported a black eye. You had gotten her good but made sure not to hit place that would cause anything to break. Nora had wanted to help her sister but had backed up after Rachel sent her a deadly glare. “Tap out or I’ll dislocate your shoulder.” You state again, you knew how to put it back in so it didn’t scare you to do it. “5... 4... 3... 2...” You start counting down and slowly pull on Rachel’s arm.

“Alright alright! I give up!” Rachel screamed out as the pain got too much for her and you immediately got off of her. “Good, now don’t do some dumb shit like that again... To any of the girls, got it?” You ask as Rachel nods her head and holds onto her shoulder. You gave a nod and walked to pick up your shirt that had gotten sand on it during the fight. “Damn...” You stated as you went to the ocean to wash your shirt off and cool down. The ocean salt stung some scrapes you had gotten but was cool against your hot skin. It took a while but the girls all split away after the crazy event they just witnessed. Leah opting to give you some time before talking to you.

---

You had been in the ocean for a concerning amount of time. You honestly didn’t want to return to the girls in fear that their opinions about you might have changed. The other girls, void Rachel and Nora, were worried about you. “I think you should go talk to her.” Fatin says as she whispers to Leah. “I think she’s cooled down enough.” Fatin continues as she see’s Leah bite her lip in thought. Leah nods her head and gets up before heading towards you. “Tell y/n I want boxing lessons while your down there.” Toni throws out, being completely serious and ignores the glare she gets from Rachel.

You sat in a shallow part of the ocean, staring out into the endless sea. “Penny for your thoughts?” Leah asks as she sits beside you, as close as she can without touching you. You give Leah a quick glance before looking straight ahead. “Are the girls mad at me?” You ask, voice filled with nerves. “Just Rachel and Nora but that’s understandable.” Leah let’s out a laugh, “Toni does want you to teach her how to fight though.” You smile and turn to look at Leah before getting serious again. “Are you okay with what happened? I know I kind of went all Incredible Hulk and all but hearing what she did was just the last push...” Leah cupped your face with her hands. “I am okay with what happened... It definitely shocked me but, not gonna lie, it was kind of hot.” Leah says with a smirk and your face heats up immediately. “I, um... woah.” You say with a nervous laugh as Leah lets go of your face and leans her head against your shoulder instead. “Thank you though, for protecting me and defending me... Even before the whole place crash happened.” Leah said as she let herself fully relax against you for the first time since the plane crash. “Always.”

NEXT

[umblebumble]

Star Trek Daemons

These choices are based on the newer movie series (AOS) featuring Chris Pine, Zachary Quinto and Carl Urban, etc. I have only seen bits and pieces of the many previous Star Trek series, but I will use what little tidbits I have picked up to help with this selection. My choices are a mix of analysis matching (I like to use the Daemon Forum as a starting point) as well as thematic/plot things. Hope you like them! Please let me know what you think, and your own headcanons!

James Kirk - Indian blue Peafowl. Thematically, I think a peacock/peahen would tell us a lot about Jim and reflect his story arc very well. Peacocks are thought of to be vain, cocky, proud birds who strut around showing off. This seems like exactly what everyone thinks about Jim at first glance, the sort of air he gives off. But peacocks are much more than that, people just don’t realize it. I think that parallel works well since everyone starts by underestimating Jim to seeing past his showy-ness and growing to respect and appreciate him as their captain. Furthermore, peacocks are intelligent, bold, fearsome and very socially oriented. They can fly despite what people think, and they’ve been known to always perch just out of reach of predators. They’re loud and communicative, and will fight and defend what is theirs. They actually have spurs on the back of their feet. Mostly, peacocks are very social - they spend time in flocks or at least pairs, and Jim is a very social person who would do anything for his people, his crew. So mostly thematic reasons, but I think a peahen perched on the back of the captain chair would just really fit him.

Spock - Eurasian Lynx. To me Spock has always been a cat person in my mind: he just exudes the same aloof energy with hints of softness, playfulness and even sassy-ness in the right circumstances. However because he’s half Vulcan and they have that raw animosity and energy they work so hard to tame, I figured it would be a wildcat versus a domesticated one. Lynx’s are ambush predators and have been known to sit in trees and wait to drop on unsuspecting prey. This matches Spocks patience in planning and executing strategy. Lynx’s are solitary creatures, but are very good mothers to young - and while Spock is more of a loner, he cares deeply and passionately for those in his circle. Lynx are also found in all sorts of environments, making them adaptable and quick on their feet. Plus they have been known to hunt deer, showing their bravery and fierce power. Spock is also very technical and sassy and sarcastic when the mood strikes him, which just fits very well with a cat attitude in general. Personally, I like the image of an aloof Lynx at Spock’s side that betrays no emotion until they crack and go for the throat. (Additionally, Lynx’s are known for their tufted ears and I think that would be hilarious alongside Mr. Pointy-Ears himself.)

Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy - Canadian Goose. This one seems a bit odd, but just stick with me a moment. Geese are loud, bold, brash, hardy birds who are hard working, determined, and known for their short-fuse but deep care for others. It’s perfect for Bones. A goose migrates thousands of kilometres each year, and live largely in Canada through very cold temperatures. This makes them very hardy, and hard-working birds. Furthermore, geese - Canadian Geese especially - are known for their temper. They’re given a wide berth because they have clear boundaries and will loudly let you know when you even approach said lines in the sand. But under the abrasive defensiveness and loud protestation of the world, geese make incredible parents. They’re protective, defensive, and very loving to their children, or their flock, or their mate. Those they care about, they are a stalwart defender and provider, and will often immediately adopt any stray goslings that are a similar age to their own babies. Bones is crotchety and loud and stubborn and has a tendency to yell about anything and everything, but he’s determined and smart and a doctor - he cares for people and will fiercely protect those he claims as his. It’s an unusual choice, but once I thought of it I just can’t get rid of the idea.

Nyota Uhura - Steller’s Jay. Since these birds are a species of corvid, they sit among some of the cleverest bird species. Nyota is especially smart and aware of her surroundings, demonstrated by her ability to readily understand Spock’s techno-babble. Furthermore, the smarter an animal, the more mental stimulation and challenge they need, or they’ll get bored easily. Nyota seems like the hardworking type to constantly have something on the go. Steller’s Jays are very adaptable, and a little bit manipulative when they need to get something, which pairs well with Nyota’s drive and tenacity. Furthermore, Steller’s Jay is noted as being an accomplished mimic of both bird calls and other noises. This is a fun thematic parallel to Nyota’s unparalleled auditory and linguistic ability.

Hikaru Sulu - Monarch Butterfly. A lot of people would think that butterfly’s are delicate and emotionally sensitive people, but that is not true of monarchs. They have incredible migrating habits that indicate they are hardy and hard-working. And while they may be sensitive to and aware of their surroundings, they are not as emotionally delicate as they appear. These migrating habits are also rather specific, showing a value of control over things that thematically I like for a main pilot/Command division person. Monarchs are group oriented, and Sulu has a deep care for his crew and his family, thriving among others. While they’re not an aggressive creature, Monarchs are willing to take risks if the reward is worth it and are known for their “wander-lust” tendency to explore and adventure and try new things.

Pavel Chekov - Atlantic Puffin. Aside from being adorable, a puffin matches well with what I know of Chekov. Puffin are a more social bird and will have a good time in a group of any size, or even working on their own. They are also active and energetic, matching with Chekov’s youthful energy and constant work drive. While somewhat cautious in unusual scenarios, they are very proactive planners and are the kind to look before they leap - but they will take the leap. Puffins are dutiful and sensitive, and while Chekov is not shown to be some thin-skinned wreck, he is still very young and has some youthful optimism and outlook that leaves him a little more surprised by the jaded side of the universe. Mostly, I think a puffin is just very well suited to the young but hardy and capable man.

Montgomery “Scotty” Scott - Cairn Terrier. Terriers are smart, clever, stubborn, loud little dogs. They’re more independent than some other dogs, but are still very social. Terriers are very vocal about their thoughts and opinions, and are not afraid of putting others in their place and taking charge. Scotty is as sturdy as they come and is very good at what he does, equally willing and able to take over and run the ship engines as well as dive in after Jim in weird antics and crazy adventures. I picked a Cairn over another terrier type because Cairns are very curious and adventurous and are the perfect middle of the road terrier: not too stubborn, not too sensitive, not too independent, and not too daring. Scotty is the perfect mix of stubborn, sensitive, caring, independent, bold, brash, and cautious all rolled into one loyal, loud, eager terrier package.

*P.S I realize I have selected largely birds for this group, and it wasn’t intentional, I just found myself gravitating towards them. However, I have always equated birds with their wings and flying and freedom. I find birds are always a little more out going and adventurous and travel-hungry by nature, so I think finding a majority of birds on a space ship destined to travel the distant universe isn’t all too unrealistic.

[help-im-a-gay-fish]

Agave Syrup: ship kid. Secondary collab verse.

Annnnnd here's the new baby! She's my Cciller ship kid. She exists the the secondary ship kid universe which is a collab verse with @thebluescreen. She's from the Multiverse Rem is a part of, but not from the multiverse Coffee creamer is from. (They are two separate multiverses with different ships and storys.)

Both Agave and 4Loko are the same person, I'll explain below.

"yall really for a no caff, full foam, double chocolate latte, with an extra hit of caramel syrup!? It's my own special blend..... Added just for you~"

Name: Agave Syrup

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Strate

Parents: (Bio) Ccino (Da) and Killer (Baba). Non bio Nightmare (Father).

Other family: Rem (older half brother) Vanta (older half brother) Somba Lullaby (older half brother). Dream (uncle) Cross (Uncle) Radiant Hope (Cousin) Empathy (Cousin). And many cats.

Nicknames: Kitten (by killer) and Gave

Agave is the youngest of the Fluffynightkiller ship kids from the second verse. She grew up primary raised By Ccino and her oldest brother Rem. Killer and Nightmare were there, but weren't massively involved parents.

Agave is pretty close to her brother Rem, despite the 13 year age gap and will normally have a fortnightly movie night where they will watch crappy horror movies (like Jack Frost or The Sand) and laugh about how stupid they are. They also both love to watch old horror movies and play a game of "what incredibly stupid choice will character A make that will result in there death? Hmmm". It's there favourite thing to do together.

Agave isn't a huge fan of generally good horror films though and especially can't stand the saw films. So she doesn't watch them unless it's with Rem.

Agave and her other brother Somba aren't as close (he's 5 years older) but she still cares alot for him and isn't above defending him if needed.

Agave has two main sides to herself, this being how she is normally and her persona/alterego 4Loko. But more on that below.

Normally she is a very bright and chipper girl who's abit of a goof. She sees the fun or silly side in alot of things in life and is rarely not in a good mood. She's also quite a passive person (or at least pretends to be) and is quite kind. Her personality is abit to much like Dream's for Nightmare's liking so the two aren't really close.

She's that person who is very fun to be around but just slightly unnerving. Like there is something going on underneath her smile. Something just slightly off.

Being born with her soul on the outside of her body wasn't suprising because of her relation to Killer, however it caused Ccino to be conserned during her up bringing. He were quite scared about how easily she could be hurt of killed so always kept a close eye on her. Killer didn't care as much and gave her more free rain. For example, letting her play with this pocket knife as a 1 year old.

Agave works primarily at her Da's coffee shop and takes great pride in it. She grew up there and its been a part of her life ever since she can remember. She enjoys making her own flavouring syrups and blends to put into drinks to make them taste better. Other then that she's studying a business degree (at age 18 +) at a local university in order to get better with the business.

About 4Loko and her soul.

"Me? And serial killer? No no I'm a barista, those aren't even similar....."

Now this is where things start up, because she's got to inherit some things from Killer, right?

Agaves soul glitches, much like Killer's does, from being heart shaped to being target shaped. It does this many times a day. When this happens it normally doesn't last longer then a few seconds till it goes back to normal. To an outsider it may even be unnoticeable and for the most part it doesn't effect Agave.

However sometimes she will trap her soul into a jar or some type of container. Doing this will stop it from glitching and stick it in whatever form its in (she can't do this all the time as it strains the soul and brings pain). So sometimes she will stick it in target mode. When she sticks it in target mode, her eyes drip.

Unbeknownst to any of her parents when her soul is like this, it changes her. She feels basically nothing, no fear, no sadness, no guilt or empathy. She realised at a young age that this was her super power.

In this mode she could do anything and not suffer any emotional consequences.

It started with stealing cookies from the biscuit tin at age 9 and evolved into hurting bully's at school. Then into giving food poisoning to rude customers by mixing up syrups to slip into drinks to make people ill.

For the most part she stays out of this mode, only dipping in when she felt she needed to test how far she could push it.

When she was 15 she started to consider pushing it to the limit.

She was watching the news and found out about some kind of abuser or murder being arrested and she thought. Why do we let people who do such horrible things live? Wouldn't it be better if they were dead? Then she realised, with her super power, could she kill someone?

When she was 16 she had her first kill. They were robber shed caught beating someone in an alleyway. (I don't know to much about this yet so I'll need to think more about it) but afterwards, she realised that she'd been right in the fact that she didn't feel guilty. She could use this to make the world a better place!

She didn't kill again for about a year. (just incase, I wanna point out that I'm not saying that what Agave does is justified. She's just an ship kid, a act of fiction and not ment to be taken seriously)

So anyway, by age 17 Agave makes her second kill and continues on that path. These are alot more thought out and planned. Her method of choice is through creating poisonous syrup and killing people that way, though she isn't above a good old knife death. Her Baba taught her well. She also carries around chemicals to clean blood and things like that.

She doesn't like her victims to dweal in pain and gets the deaths over quickly and painlessly. She gets no pleasure from causing pain to others, and when she doesn't have a target soul it makes her upset to hurt people.

Agave ended up calling her killer mode 4Loko. That's the name for her alterego the serial killer. She separates 4Loko from herself and doesn't want it to impact her Day to day life. So she will use make up to cover the birth mark on her face. When she's in her 20s she ends up working as an hireable assassin for killing criminals. But more on that later.

Non of her parents know about her double life. But that doesn't mean no one does.

Rem has always kept a close eye on his little sister. Over the years he noticed her odd behaviour and her collection of 'syrups' that she keeps in her room hidden.

During her 17th year he confronts her about what she does (which was a huge mess) the two fought as she attempted to stab him through the soul with her knife. She couldn't let him live if he knew right? She would have been able to but she just couldn't bring herself to hurt him. Since she wasn't in target mode she just couldn't do it especially as he spoke to her and talked her down. (tbh it's actually a kind of sweet scene between them).

After he's calmed her Rem offers to help her kill people, and he's very happy to. (Rem has alot of darkness under his kind surface which I'm sure @thebluescreen would be more then happy to explain in better detail).

So the two grow closer through that.

And yeah, that's the basic run down of my Cciller baby.! Hope you like her! My barista turned murderer/hitman I figured this would be a good mix of both her parents.

You have no idea! How long I spent working on her colour scheme..... It took about a month till I finally had this one and I'm pretty happy with it. I hope I explained everything about her double life well, I wasn't sure how clear it is. If you have any questions, please ask.

<3

[sailorgreywolf-legacy]

First Meetings

My entry for the second day of @historical-hetalia-week . This one is aimed more at giving the sweet backstory to one of my favorite ships.

Plot: Scotland accompanies his mother to Francia to negotiate trade. He is expecting to prove his maturity, but ends up distracted by a handsome stranger.

Characters: Scotland, Britannia (Albion), Francia (Gaul), France

Ships: ScotFra (The Auld Alliance)

Word Count: 2K

No Content Warnings

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

Scotland was overjoyed to be at sea on the way to somewhere new and exciting. It was the first time that his mother had decided that he was old enough to leave their islands. Albion had told him that if he was a good boy this might even be a usual occurrence, since he was the heir and needed to learn the ways of trade and alliances.

He was determined to be good and make his mother proud. He knew that one day she would trust him with more responsibility and trust him to look after his brothers.

It was even more important than ever now that he had an infant brother who would need him. Arthur, Little Wessex, was so young and he would need protection and guidance from his eldest brother. 

At the age of fifteen Scotland knew that he needed to prove himself to her as a boy on the verge of adulthood. During the voyage, she explained the whole reason for this visit. She had trade ties with the Franks on the Northern coast of the continent, and made these trips to keep the bonds strong. It was easier to go herself than to trust a messenger to carry her words, and she wanted her son to see the process.

The only reservation that Scotland had was about the Danes. There was a possibility that their sails could emerge from the fog at any moment, as they often had in recent years.

The short passage from the Anglo-Saxon land to the kingdom of the Franks was not completely safe. He had asked his mother what they would do about the Danes, but she had given him a mysterious smile and said that she had found a way to deal with them. Scotland wouldn’t dare ask what she meant, but he took comfort in her certainty.

The first sight he had of the continent was the white sand of the beeches. Behind it there were impressive cliffs that seemed to be lush and green. How beautiful it was.

Scotland was certain from the first look that he would quite like this new place. Albion turned to him and asked, “What do you think of it?" He responded in a hushed voice, like he was afraid he would scare away the beauty, “It’s lovely.”

Scotland followed dutifully as his mother walked into the courtyard, where a tall blonde woman was waiting for them. There was a scar on her cheek that spoke of battles fought long ago. It was easy to guess who had given her that scar, since the stories of Cesar in Gaul were legendary.

He knew that she had once been called Gaul, and was now known as Francia. It was not so strange that one would cast off the name that Rome had called them, as his own mother had by refusing to be known as Britannia.

The two greeted each other warmly while Scotland tried to decide if he was supposed to introduce himself or not. His mother and Francia were old friends and it explained their familiar greeting.

Scotland mulled over what he was supposed to do. In his father’s absence, he was the man of the family. But he also knew that he was there on his mother’s permission, and he would never speak over her.

To his relief, she solved the conundrum by saying, “This is my eldest, Alasdair.”

Scotland took this as a cue for him to bow, to show due respect. Francia gave him a smile and said, “You are such a strapping boy. I think you’re almost a man.”

He felt a glow of pride at that, and nodded enthusiastically. He so wanted to be the kind of man who his mother would be proud of. Albion responded, putting her hand on his shoulder, “I’m very proud of him. I hope he won’t have to be a man too soon.”

Francia said, “I have also brought my eldest. Francois, greet our guests.”

A young man forward, and Scotland realized that he had not noticed him behind Francia’s cloak. He had been too busy thinking about how to impress his mother’s friend and it had not even occurred to him to look.

He drew in a breath as he realized how beautiful the young man was. There was sunlight glinting off of his golden waves, and it made him look ethereal.

Scotland felt his own cheeks growing hot, and he hoped that it was only the warmth of the sun on his face.

The boy said, “I am very glad to meet you.”  He smiled, and it felt like he was radiating warmth and light.

Scotland could feel his heart beating quickly, like he was nervous. But he could not think of a reason, since he had not felt this way before. His mother said, “Shall we go inside and talk?” Francia nodded.

Scotland could not focus at all; his mind was fixed on the blonde boy across the table from him. The more he looked, the more he was convinced that he had never seen a person so beautiful and so elegant.

He was trying not to stare, since he was sure that it was rude. He kept glancing at his mother, hoping that reminding himself of his duty would get his mind back on the reason he was present.

However, it was not working. He was watching the other boy’s slender hands as they fidgeted with the corner of a piece of parchment. It seemed like he was bored of the discussion. Even in his boredom he looked incredibly elegant.

Scotland glanced back up at his face, hoping to steal another look. To his surprise, he met the other’s blue eyes directly. It had not crossed his mind that France might be looking at him too. The eye contact made him feel like something fluttering in his stomach.

He quickly glanced away, and tried to calm his heart. It was such a strange and disconcerting feeling, but was not at all unpleasant. He had never felt this with anyone before, and he could not put a word to what the feeling was.

Francia noticed that her son was fidgeting, and threatening to tear the edge of whatever the document was. She said, “Francois, you should take Alasdair for a tour of the grounds. You’ll be less bored that way.”

Scotland looked up at his mother, trying to make it clear that he wasn’t bored. He said, “I can stay if you want me to.” Albion shook her head and said, “Go make a friend. I don’t mind.”

He glanced back at France, and couldn’t think of another good excuse to avoid time together He wanted to spend time with the boy, but he was also not certain what they would do once they were alone.

The very thought made him feel flustered and hot. His heart felt like it was pounding against his rib cage as he stood up to follow the blonde outside.

France pointed to one of the towers and said, “And that is the tallest one. It’s where my mother built the nursery.”

Scotland hardly heard a word he said, and he hardly looked up at the castle. He was too busy looking at the delicate curve of the other’s neck. He was not certain what was wrong with him, and he was sure that he had never felt that way before. He supposed he should pretend at interest, but it was hard to drag his attention away.

France stopped and said with a charming smile, “But you don’t really care, do you?”

Scotland was taken aback by the bluntness and the smile that it was delivered with. He scrambled to find an answer, but only managed to say, “Why do you say that.”

France turned completely to face him, his golden hair swinging around his face as he turned. He answered, “You’ve been looking at me since you got here.”

He stepped closer, and Scotland could see all the shades of blue in his eyes. They were like a mountain lake, clear and very expressive. He responded, “You’ve been looking too.”

He didn’t know what he expected, but the other responded without the slightest bit of guilt. He said, “You’re handsome, and I enjoy looking at you.”

He leaned in and Scotland thought for a fleeting moment that he was trying to make him blush. If he was, it was a success. But then France clarified his intention by saying, “I was thinking about what you would look like with a beard. You’d be so handsome.”

He paused and looked at Scotland with the most unfathomable expression, like he was measuring how far he would go. Then, he tilted his head to the side and said, “Can you grow one yet?”

Scotland was certain that he did not want to back away or tell France to stop looking at him. He felt strangely comfortable once his nerves started to fade. He chuckled and answered, “Only a little bit. My father says to give it a year.”

The blonde said proudly, “I can already grow some.” Scotland said, without thinking to hold his tongue, “Really? I don’t see anything.”

He squinted to see if there was light stubble on the boy’s cheek. Blonde hair could be so difficult to see in this kind of sunlight. He still wasn’t sure if there was anything there. France said, “Do you want to feel it?”

Without thinking about his response, Scotland said, “Yes, I do.”

He put his palm to the other’s cheek, and was amazed to feel that there was light stubble against his hand. The position that they were standing in didn’t occur to him until France leaned into his hand and nuzzled it slightly.

He knew that if he was not blushing at first, he was certainly blushing scarlet after that little gesture. His heart was pounding so hard that he could hear it in his ears.

He said, sounding slightly panicked, “What are you doing?”

France leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. Then he said, “I like you.”

Scotland’s mind felt like it was free falling as he stared into the other’s deep blue eyes. He was thinking of all sorts of things that he was not supposed to know about. Things his mother told him he did not need to know about until he was old enough to have children. Things that people did at Beltane.

It was just a kiss, and it could still be chaste, but his mind was running several steps ahead. He followed his instinct and put his hands on the blonde’s waist.

He didn’t realize how rich the fabric that France was wearing was until he touched it. Then he felt distinctly that he was holding something beautiful and delicate.

He replied, trying to keep a distance that he had already conceded with his actions, “We’ve just met.” The blonde nodded and replied, “And yet I like you. I feel like we are meant to be.”

Scotland was not going to disagree with him, because he also felt certain that he was attracted to the young man. He said, “I like you too.”

France smiled in a way that looked almost shy. Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Scotland’s very softly. It felt like he was hesitant, even scared.

Scotland felt like he had to reciprocate to tell him that it was acceptable. He deepened the kiss, and pulled France against him. It all felt clumsy, and he was not certain if he was doing anything right.

He had never kissed anyone before, and he felt so flushed and hot. He was not even certain that he was kissing well, but it felt good.

France broke the kiss and laid his head against Scotland’s shoulder. He couldn’t see it, but Scotland had a feeling that the blonde was smiling.

France hugged him and said, “You smell like a rainstorm. It’s nice.” He nuzzled into the Scot’s neck, and said, “I’ve never done that before with anyone.”

Scotland asked, genuinely shocked because the other seemed to be so confident in himself. He replied, “Am I really your first?” France said, his voice slightly muffled as he spoke into his shoulder, “I told you. You feel right to me, like we’re meant to be.”

Scotland found the sentiment incredibly touching and he said, “You’re so sweet. I want to get to know you better.”

France took took one of Scotland’s hands in his own and entwined their fingers. It felt like their hands fit together well.

France asked, “How long are you staying here? I can come to your room.” Scotland pet his blonde hair and said, “A week at least.”

He planted one more soft kiss on the other’s forehead. He had a feeling that his mother would be very surprised when she found out about this.

[star-killer-md]

Dream A little Dream of Me Pt. 7

Welp. It’s been uh, a long fucking time. My only excuse is college is hard and also I’m lazy. Anyway, here she be. Thank you to everyone who continues to read this cause I need it to exit my brain and it’s incredibly nice to not just like, scream Kylo porn into the void. 

I hope y’all enjoy and feel free to leave me a comment or reblog or dm if you are so inclined. 

AO3 mirror

Part 8

Warnings: Inappropriate use of the Force, Force sex, angst, nsfw, y’all know the drill

Summary: In which answers are found. 

Ship: Kylo Ren x Negotiator!Reader

Word Count: 6.6k

The room smelled too sweet, the kind that lodged under your tongue and ached in your jaw. It made you long for the silence of your seaside room, made you strangely thankful that Kylo Ren often never filled it. But only for a minute. Because thinking of him reminded you of how you’d woken to an empty bed and cold, damp sheets and that you were certainly not thankful for. 

Meanwhile, Lem Alba seemed intrinsically compelled to do exactly the opposite. 

In fact, once he’d guessed you wouldn’t chew his head off every time he opened his mouth, it never closed again. You weren’t entirely sure if this annoyed or pleased you. But when Lem came to your door and invited you to brunch before all campaign staff were carted off back to the Federal District, you agreed. 

If only to avoid being left alone with your thoughts. 

“Not to grandstand,” Lem babbled between sips of his drink, “but I often feel some of my skills are wasted working just as a personal aide.” 

You glanced up from your plate and nodded, “I think most people in this profession tend to believe that. We’re all a bit insatiable.” 

He chuckled, soft voice melding perfectly with the chatter and bustle of the surrounding tables. You couldn’t help but think that Lem fit in well here, as much as he tried to deny it. His edges blended seamlessly with the velvet and silk background. It reminded you of when he’d plucked you right out of the crowd your first night here. 

“You First Order people have a way about you. Something in the way you stand a bit too straight.”

Something in the way you’re always waiting for the ball to drop. 

“Yes well, I’m not gunning for a power grab,” Lem sighed and rolled his eyes. 

He looked very much like a scorned child and you felt a twinge of remorse, “No, I didn’t think you were.” 

“It’s alright,” he ran a hand through his neat hair and stared at you over the rim of his glass, “I just get so bored of it all sometimes.”

“Mm, me too,” you said around a bite of some extravagant concoction that dripped embarrassingly down your chin. 

You thought of blood and saltwater rolling across your skin and quickly wiped it away with a napkin. 

“Really? I wouldn’t have thought that would be an issue for someone in your position.”

You had to try very hard not to scoff out loud, settling for a disbelieving raise of your eyebrows. Piles of paperwork taller than the Commander filled your head, glowering officers and incessant incident reports—your life nothing more than a series of other people's mistakes that somehow became your fault. Grey walls and meetings that never ended. 

Come to think of it, you’d been bored and tired and frustrated your whole life it seemed. Although, not so much anymore. Still just as exhausted and angry, but less like a pacing animal in a cage. The thought sat uncomfortably in your stomach as you wondered when exactly that had changed.  

Of course you already knew the answer. 

You always were attracted to things that kept you on your toes. 

“Should we discuss this speech I’m supposed to be giving?” you asked. 

If Lem noticed your less than subtle change in topic, he didn’t show it for which you were grateful. 

“Certainly,” he gestured for you to continue. 

“Well, I’ve had it outlined for quite awhile since the powers that be were oh-so specific about the subject matter,” you began, watching Lem grimace sympathetically. 

“Yes, I believe I’m meant to collect a draft from you by the end of the week.” 

The joints in your shoulders popped when you slumped forward, hanging your head against the weight of far too stringent deadlines.

“I’m well aware,” you sighed. “Normally I wouldn’t be so neglectful of the timeline, I’m just having a hard time...focusing.” 

The barely concealed mark on the curve of your neck throbbed as you recalled the massive, decadently handsome distraction that consistently occupied your workspace. Really, how were you expected to get any quality content produced with that dark, looming shadow always poisoning your mind with questions and completely inappropriate fantasy. 

Currently, your entire body seemed to constrict at the notion that it was no longer strictly a fantasy. Your muscles corded taught, pulling like a ruched seam and tugging painfully at the sinew. It felt almost as if you were a marionette with invisible strings controlled by equally invisible hands that tingled as they jerked you about. You got the distinct sensation that someone was watching you, but resisted the urge to turn and look. 

Lem—completely oblivious to your inner turmoil—perked up and offered you a blindingly white grin full of ramrod straight teeth. 

“I have an office I’m more than willing to loan out if you’d like to make use of it,” he said. 

You considered the idea, chewing on your lip. Maybe getting lost in speech writing would be good, you thought. Something easy, something formulaic would do wonders for taking your mind off, well, everything. 

“As long as you’re offering,” you flashed him a strained smile and went back to shuffling things around your plate. 

Lem continued to spew an endless stream of comfortingly meaningless ramblings and you bathed in the sound of it, looking up occasionally to offer a hum of acknowledgement. You didn’t really care what he was saying—whether it was opinions for opening lines or who you should thank first or what color to wear that he thought would bring out your eyes—but you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a friendly conversation with...anyone. 

So you let him talk, and nodded every once in a while and basked in the normalcy, the mundaneness of the scene. Until, of course, the peace was shattered when your server returned with a new cocktail for Lem, who promptly spilled it all over the table. 

You watched it unfold like the audience of a holodrama: the waiter, tall with an abundance of black curls and long fingers extending the glass, their hands touching for just an instant, the scarlet blush that tinted Lem’s ears when he glanced at the man’s face and stared transfixed even as the drink spilled off the table and onto his slacks. 

It felt very suddenly as if you were seeing something you shouldn’t be. 

But the moment ended quickly and quietly, fizzling out with a whimper as the waiter with all his curly hair frantically mopped up the mess. His voice was low and pleasant when he apologized and rushed off to get another drink mixed. 

For once, you had the urge to participate in the conversation. 

“Who’s that?” you asked, flicking your eyes up briefly and then back down to the wet mark on the table cloth. 

Lem shrugged and fiddled with the stain on his pants, “Nobody.” 

And for once, it seemed, he had nothing else to say on the matter. 

It was truly a challenge to keep the amused smile from splitting your cheeks as Lem so clearly tried and failed not to make a complete fool of himself every time said server returned to clear plates. And when a beautifully decorated fruit tart found its way to your table—decidedly marked as ‘on the house’—you were graced with an extraordinarily toothy, childish smile from your dining companion. 

Your chest ached with it, the display of reality. 

On your first night here, you’d thought Lem looked too much like all the other First Order officers you were forced to work with. Thought his hair was too perfect, his suit too pressed, words too cherry picked. 

But here you were again, getting drawn in by these stupid, simple instances of existence in relation to others. You craved the feeling of fading into the background as Lem stuttered whenever he tried to thank the boy with his curls and warm smile. 

It was strange too, to see that people truly did flush and brush hands and chew their lips and smile so freely. For whatever reason, you’d been under the distinct impression that was an exclusively fictional pursuit, saved for holofilms or storybooks. 

Did those things exist in you? Were there times when you’d fluttered the way Lem did now, cautiously stealing bites of his tart, trying to preserve the delicate design for as long as possible? Or had they atrophied and fallen to dust from disuse, nothing more than a vestigial organ, unnecessary and forgotten—ready to pump your body full of toxins at a moment's notice should it burst. 

And that only raised more questions. How incomplete had you been this whole time? How long had you been ignorant of your deficiency?  

And did it matter?

But that was not something you could ever answer. So, you sat back and watched and listened and breathed it in. 

Appreciated from afar this show of innocenceweakness.

You jolted in your seat, shoulders bunching together as if a hand had grabbed you from behind. The double voice rang out in your head, echoing up like it was shouted from the bottom of some pit inside you. You knew that voice though—would know it anywhere by now.  

It was him, of course it was. 

You could feel Kylo Ren like a shroud, a dampening of the outside world. When you listened closely, you swore you could hear the sound of crashing waves, the crunch of sand under boot heels. The smell of salt and skin and bloody water filled your nose. Your chest was burning, a prison for some roiling, angry creature that flung itself against the steel bars of your ribs.

His ribs.

His heartbeat, a pounding and ruthless tattoo.

His feet already moving in time to the beat, carrying him farther and farther— 

Is it? you shouted back.

The words tore at your throat even as you sat in silence at the table. But no response came, instead the chatter of the dining room returned and Lem tilted his head in concern, standing and gathering you up by the arms. 

He pulled you down the poshly ornamented halls, chattering still but shooting glances down more often with his brows furrowed. You let him lead you, thin arm looped around yours, back towards your quarters to ‘help you pack,’ he said. And you didn’t bother discouraging him. 

You already knew the room would empty. 

***

The meeting had been dragging on for quite nearly an hour already. You were seated at the far end of a comically long table staring off into oblivion, eyes having glazed over nearly ten minutes in when one of the relations staff started going on about color coordinating suits. 

Although, you were not completely tuned out. It was very hard to be when just a few seats away sat the Representative himself with his grotesque excuse for an advisor positioned at his right hand. Fortunately he hadn’t spared you a glance, but it was a challenge not to keep one eye on him at all times—to not consistently feel your calves twitch, ready to bolt through the nearest exit. 

You understood now what it must be like for all those prisoners sitting in the Finalizer’s belly—backed into the final corner, waiting for Kylo Ren to swoop in like a shadow and leave them flayed open to be tossed out with the rest of those who have outgrown their usefulness. 

You’ve been trying not to think too specifically about...him since you’d returned to the Federal District, your room here just as empty as the one by the sea. His shirt, the one you’d stolen was still packed neatly into your bags. You thought about throwing it away, or tossing it in the corner for him to find. But then you remembered the bits of torn up packaging and lace and that you would not sink to that level. Physical reminders aside, your head had been blessedly—or maybe concerningly—devoid of any voices that were not your own since your, well, ‘fight’ you supposed was the word for it at brunch. 

Then again, all you ever did with him was fight, but this felt different. 

There were plenty of reasons for the Commander to be angry with you, in fact, you didn’t think there could ever be a shortage. However, this seemed just a little too...petulant for your liking. 

You recalled some of Hux’s old rants. Generally, you’d just let him rave like you were just another piece of furniture in his office, stewing in the same hot, bubbling pot of indignation. You could hear him now:

“He’s a child, a sulking, immature youngling completely incapable of a single rational thought.”

And you finally understood what he meant. 

If only you were allowed to use the silent treatment, but that seemed to be a privilege only for those higher up in the food chain. 

Besides, you were far too classy for such elementary tactics. 

You spat the last words and hoped to the stars that wherever the hell Ren had run off to, he heard them. Which one of you was the weak one now?

It was Lem who pulled you from the dark, brooding hole you’d dug yourself as he caught your eye from across the table. The speakers were switching, a half-hearted applause ringing out in the cavernous room and he flashed you a quick roll of his eyes. You bit back a smile at the way he jumped when Gahl turned to rattle off some inane order and Lem scrambled to take a note down. 

Watching it reminded you of how he’d nearly leaped out of his suit when the waiter boy with curly hair brought by your plates. Jane was his name. You’d discovered it while Lem was helping you pack, happily filling the silence with how he was much too smart to be working as a server.

And as you thought, your traitorous mind led you inevitably back to the looming, black specter that haunted your every waking minute. You would be kidding yourself if you thought you could ever have given the Commander the cold shoulder when truly he was all you ever thought about. Even before, even if it was just to remember how much you despised him. 

Past tense now, you noted worriedly. What a terrifying concept. 

But your brain was moving quickly past that, tucking it away in some far, deep corner to only be touched on long nights when you were up far past the shift in day cycles. 

Now it was replaying your brunch, closing up on a still of Jane’s hand on the glass about to tumble, on the lip biting, starry eyed and heart pounding look in his eyes. And then he was changing, the skin of his hand growing lighter, milky and soft with scattered freckles. 

Then it was your hand reaching out. Your hand slipping on the glass and Kylo Ren—sweet smile on his face—staring down at you blushing like a ripe fruit in summer.  

His lovely crooked teeth flashed behind lips like pillows filled with the softest featherdown.  

The tips of his fingers brushed your hand, light and nervous in that not-quite-accidental way that should have made your heart leap into hyper drive. Kylo’s eye flicked down at the floor, downcast coyly and glancing every few seconds to catch you staring at the pink in his cheeks.

You watched the scene as if through water, some stark, salty barrier that coated him in a film of non-reality. You waited for the star shine look of his eyes to pull you in, waited to feel your hands shake and your pulse race and any number of other inane, fluttery things that you had seen Lem stumble through.

But the sight of it, the look on this man's face—because it was most certainly not Kylo Ren looking at you with honey eyes, sparkling shy dips of nectar—it was...

It was not at all what you’d thought. 

It was revolting. 

It was an antithesis come to life.

It made your skin crawl with the unnatural feeling of it all. 

Kylo Ren’s face was not built to look at you this way, did not contain sickeningly gentle smiles, his hands knew no soft brushes of fingertips.

No, they wielded saber blades and crushed bone and spilled blood.

They tangled in your hair and molded mottled fingerprints into your skin 

His lips were carved from marble that could not comprehend such an innocent up turning, unless it was to mock his opponent.

They sucked permanent brands of ownership into your skin, and made them throb when you thought of him. 

And that was all you would ever want him to do. 

As much as he roused the caged and angry beast that resided in your bones, as much as he lied and withheld and left you to wake alone—

You couldn’t bear this bastardized, cheap imitation that stared at you sweetly.

That was not your Commander. 

That was not your Kylo Ren.

And you would not have him any other way.

That thought sat heavy with you and called to life something in the depths of your being. A fire, red and electric sparked to life. You recalled the vision he’d shown you. Recalled his words echoing:

“All I see is a whore who has no idea what she’s getting herself into.” 

You felt yourself slip into the memory of his hands burying themselves in your flesh. The image of yourself—ruined, marked, and so clearly his—was crashing to the surface of your thoughts like whitecapped waves on a stormy sea. The ache in your neck returned, as though his hands were wrenching your head back to make you watch as he split you in half with his cock. You saw it in incredible detail, the veins of his length sinking into you to the hilt in one long roll of his hips. It stung and made your nerves sing with the pain of taking him. 

It was delicious. 

It fed you the pit inside you like meat thrown to a starving beast. 

This was how he was meant to be taken: painful in his beauty, lovely in his destruction. 

His skin was so warm when he pressed your back to his chest and growled in your ear: 

“So desperate for your Commander’s cock, aren’t you?” 

And yes, of course you were, of course you always were because really had you ever felt complete or whole without him filling you to the brim? But it wasn’t just his cock you needed buried in you. No, you craved him in a way that transcended your physical being. 

Separate. That’s what he told you, that there was something more to you than just your body that could exist outside of yourself, could slip into his head and find him even when you were dreaming. 

And you were desperate for the feeling of his thoughts. For his mind, for whatever it was that let you hear him whispering all the things he could never say aloud. 

His voice in your head was the only thing that soothed the churning in your guts, it was like salve on a burn, cooling like the mint of his breath. The steady beat of his blood the only thing that truly set you at ease. 

Yes, that was your Kylo Ren. 

Possessive and withholding, saying everything in brief glances and the twitch of of jaw. Complex and often painful and perfect. 

You wanted him that way.

And you needed to hear him. 

You couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

Kylo? 

The single word echoed across whatever void your mind was inhabiting, crosses bounds to seek out something on the other end. 

You waited and wanted and— 

And then you were not so alone in your head anymore.

But the meeting room was coming back into focus and everyone was staring directly at you. The large holoprojector in the table’s center showed the first, familiar graphics of your portion of the presentation. From across the table, Lem was staring at you, brows furrowed and questioning. 

“Right,” you said, making your way to the front of the room.

You felt as though you were back in the academy, bland and boring faces all staring up at your false smile. You tried not to focus on them too hard. “As the delegate from the First Order, I’ll naturally be making the announcement of endorsement. This will be submitted to Mr. Alba for review by the end of the week along with the Order’s formal statement of apology.” 

You nodded and the projection moved on, showing the next set of animations, “Now, as I said, these will be submitted at the end of this week, so if there’s any—”

There was a hand sliding up your thigh. It was distinct and massive and coated in leather, the feeling of it so incredibly acute under your clothing you almost choked in shock. But when you slapped a hand down, there was nothing but empty air. 

The crowd for the most part seemed not to have noticed your pause, too caught up in whispered conversations to the side or staring blankly at the tabletop, so you cleared your throat, “If there’s anything you’d like to be included that should be given to me by tomorrow evening at the latest.” 

Your heart was pounding in your chest, the pulse of it clear all the way to your fingertips. Taking a shaky breath you continued to go over the list of other asinine requests, falling easily into a familiar rhythm. Presentations like this were half your job back on the Finalizer. It was home turf, and you were able to flick on autopilot long enough too— 

What was that? you asked incredulously into the void of your mind

Silence echoed, and you glanced briefly around the room, though thankfully you’d looked down at your notes when the hand returned. This time much, much higher. The unmistakable feeling of leather catching on the edge of your panties made your jaw drop. 

You called. 

Kylo’s voice reverberated through your skull, his tone was blank but you could feel the strange mixture of amusement and annoyance that was not yours. It was irritating on a level you’d thought impossible. 

Well I’m a bit busy if you hadn’t noticed, you snapped, grinding your teeth when his disembodied scoff graced your ears. 

You’d think it might be one of the most alluring things you’d ever heard if the stares of so many faceless campaign staffers weren’t pinning you down at the same time.  

Hmm, he hummed, unconcerned or unbothered by whatever was going on outside of the little world that consisted of just the two of you. 

His hand—because that’s what it had to be, his hand, somehow—curled under the hem of your panties, ripping the elastic to the side where it dug painfully into your skin. 

Stop, you hissed it, spat the word at him and tried to will away the fingers that pulled the meat of your thighs apart. 

But they only spread your legs further, a rush of cold air hitting your cunt and tensing your stomach as his fingers drew up up up— 

You’ll just have to keep quiet, won’t you?

And, of course, since you’ve never been all that good about following orders, the second he plunged two, impossibly thick fingers deep into your pussy, your voice caught in your throat. The garbled half cough half moan half wounded animal cry made every head in the room turn to face you.

Even Atreus, whose dead, white blue eyes locked in on your face and never blinked.

You froze, struggling to recall your place as Kylo worked his unseen fingers father into you, coaxing a wave of slick heat to drip from your core. Your hands bunched into fists, nails digging crescent moon holes into the skin of your palm in an effort not to gasp when he hit that lovely spot inside and made your knees threaten to give out. 

Don’t stop, now. Unless you’d like them to know what a little whore you are, Kylo growled from somewhere deep inside you. 

You caught your breath, plastering a smile on your face and taking a sip from the glass of water being offered to you. 

“My apologies, where was I?”

Shuffling through your notes, you picked up where you’d left off with proper terms to use when addressing members of the Order. You tried not to move, focusing squarely on the projection and schooling your expression—at least you hoped you were. Atreus’ stare never left you now. Like he could smell the lie on your face. Or the way your pussy gushed with ever renewed thrusting of Kylo’s leather fingers, the ridges creating a sinful drag against your walls. 

Well if I’m a whore then what are you? 

From whatever corner of your mind he was lurking in, Kylo chuckled softly. 

Much worse, he mused. 

You bit back a scream when his thumb found your clit, rubbing swift circles with the smooth material. 

But in your head, your voice rang free, and you let out the string of curses you’d been holding back, voice cracking into a whine when he added a third finger. And just as he spread you open, scissored your entrance and glided against your walls, something else opened too, gaped wide and you spilled into it.  

You could see him, but it was a different him, from a different time, walking the halls of the Finalizer. His boots ran out against the durasteel until they came to an abrupt halt and silence filled the corridor. There was a slight tremor in his hand, a minuscule shaking as he gripped his thigh and fell back against the wall, breath coming heavy through his mask. 

It was practiced, the movement of his hand that fumbled with the layers of his robes until his cock sprang free, hard and leaking and with a lovely red flush to the head. Your mouth watered at the sight of his hand stroking long and fast along the shaft, thumb teasing his tip and collecting the little beads of precum that glistened there. 

This is what you do to me, he said. I hear all of it. Every thought you have. I hear how badly you want my cock pounding into you and my hand on your throat and— 

He groaned in your head, the same way you knew he must have in whatever memory you were viewing. Distantly, you could just barely feel the movement of his hand as he jerked himself, hips bucking up into his fist. 

You were not faring much better. The words kept tumbling out of your mouth, sometimes trailing off on a particularly hard thrust of his fingers. Your head spun with this new confirmation. He’d heard all of it. Every frustrated thought, every time you’d goaded him in meetings and hallways and when you’d lie awake— or not so awake—and think about how much you maybe, probably, almost certainly didn't hate him. Not that you hadn’t known, that he could hear you. Not that you hadn’t suspected that it had always been him, not some imaginary replication. That was very clear, but now. Now you had the truth. Now you knew for certain. 

Kylo Ren had always been more than just a dream. 

For so long he had watched you crumbling from afar and said nothing.

And who knew how long he intended to keep you in the dark. 

If there wasn’t a target on your back right now, would you have ever found out?

Kylo, you gasped the words in your head as his thumb sped up in its rhythm on your clit and his fingers stroked your walls, what is this?

You needed to know. You deserved to know. 

And you could feel the words. They were there, right on the tip of his lovely pink tongue, about to find their way past the crooked edges of his teeth, lips loose in the pleasure of you. But the burst of white that clouded your vision and finally made your knees buckle drowned out any truth he may have spared you. Your combined releases flowed thick like heavy metal through your veins as you felt the pulse of him slowly fading from your mind, slipping from your grasp. 

Your hand shot out to grab the table edge, holding yourself upright as everything in your mind went blessedly, horribly quiet and the room grew much louder. Time was unclear to you. The projections showed you’d managed to get through over half of your presentation, but you called none of it. 

Lem was standing up now, walking briskly over to you with a hand on your back and another under your elbow. The fingers in your cunt had disappeared, leaving you feeling empty and cold as your slick stuck to the inside of your thighs. 

“Ah, I believe our financing presentation is up next,” Lem called out, motioning quickly for the team to take over and leading you back to your seat. 

When you were safely sat back in the chair, you felt his stiffly gelled hair brush your cheek. It smelled overpoweringly of apricots and vanilla. Too sweet. 

“Are you alright?” he whispered. 

The concern in his voice was evident, but you were lost in the past few minutes and too frustrated by the silence in your head to appreciate it. 

“Fine,” you mumbled back and turned your head back to the blank table. 

You didn’t look at him as he rushed back to his place by Gahl, who’s gaze never shifted your way. Unlike his advisor. Even now the slip of a man in his dark suit and red tie stared at you down his nose like it was the barrel of his blaster. 

Like he was taking aim. 

You swallowed and tried to go back to that space where time did not exist and your head was not so empty, but it didn’t not come. 

Instead, you sat and listened and hoped you wouldn’t leave a damp spot on the cushions when you left. 

***

There were a lot of rules in negotiations. 

The First Order made sure its best and brightest had them all carved onto the backs of their hands before they ever set foot in the situation room. When you closed your eyes, you could see the words flashing in your mind. You knew them better than you knew yourself. But maybe that wasn’t really saying much. You’d been discovering quite a lot of personal details recently you weren’t previously aware of. 

Though, that was besides the point now. 

Now all you could think of was that the number one rule to a successful negotiation, was to always know more than your opponent. 

Knowledge was your strength, knowledge was your red crackling lightsaber, knowledge was your fist closed, throat crushing Force. 

That was how you came out on top, by constantly keeping the upper hand—by always having an ace in your metaphorical back pocket. 

But right now, you were losing.

And the frustration of it was going to consume you. 

Because you didn't know what or how or why Kylo Ren was in your head. In fact, you weren’t even sure if it was your head he was in. It felt much deeper than that now. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep him out. Whatever you’d done, whatever you’d let in that night on the sand with the sea standing witness, you would never be able to take it back. 

Kylo Ren was a liar. That you knew, because you were a liar too. 

Knowledge was your power, but lies were your currency. They were what you traded at the table, they were what slipped the easiest from your tongue and made sure you walked away from a deal with more than you’d come in with. 

And Kylo Ren was not in the business of negotiations, so there was nothing you could ever offer that would pry his jaw open and spill all his secrets. Nothing that could persuade him to tell you what exactly had taken root in your chest when you’d accepted him, took him inside and wanted to keep him there. 

But you needed to know. 

The desire to understand consumed you and every thought in your head. The same head that found itself clunking against a new desk in a new office with the same unending dissatisfaction. 

Lem had left you a few hours ago, setting you up in his workspace with a glass of water and a concerned smile. You knew you were being unnecessarily rude to him, and had you been less shaken, you might have felt some guilt over it. 

Now you were staring up at your datapad, document resolutely blank, and unable to think of anything other than the way Kylo’s skin reflected the light off the ocean or how his hair curled into little ringlets when it was soaked through and dripping onto your face and— 

You groaned, knocking your forehead into the desktop and squeezing your eyes shut against the barrage of images and the strange, uncomfortable ache they incited. You rested your head on your arms and tried to block out the light of the office, let yourself drift and tried to recall...well what you weren’t sure. 

The Force always seemed so far away, so fantastical that you weren’t ever truly convinced it was real. Not until you’d seen it first hand, watched the bodies of countless ‘troopers dragged from the hallways with not a mark on them. It simply wasn’t something anyone talked about, not at the Academy, and certainly not when you started working under Hux. 

It was...energy, you knew that much. And it was in everything, everyone you supposed, though stronger some than others. You knew it could be used for more than just making objects float around, although for what other purposes you weren’t entirely certain. It certainly wasn’t something you’d ever been able to use. 

But you thought it must have a hand in this, whatever it was that let you see, hear, taste, feel the Commander even when he was so far from you. Somewhere deep in the dusty corners of your mind, you knew that this would always be the case from now on. That even with light years in between, he’d only ever be a hair's breadth away—a whisper of his name or a beat of your heart. 

It was hard to swallow that notion. Hard to comprehend that you would never be alone in your skin. Never would you feel so lacking. What a cruelty, you thought, that it had taken so long. That you had been born into this world incomplete. Your Commander would call that a weakness, but really wasn’t he just as unfinished as you. There was still some gap in him waiting to be filled.

So, then, why couldn’t you find him like he could find you?

You didn’t have the gifts he did, you couldn’t make doors fly from their hinges or break bone with just a twitch of your fingers. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe it always would be. 

Voices from the hall broke you from your stupor. Two of them, the first old and grating, the second slick like oil that left a bad taste in your mouth—the representative and his advisor. You’d recognize them anywhere now. 

“...well I’d say that a drink is in order,” Gahl was saying, trailing off as they walked further from Lem’s office. 

“Sir, we shouldn’t be leaving—”

Atreus spoke that time, the sound of it trickling like cold water down your spine. Thankfully, the representative spoke over him. 

“Lem is here, he’ll take care of things.”  

A hand slapped the closed door currently keeping you hidden as they passed. You stayed still at the desk until the footsteps had completely petered out, listening to the expensive click of their hard soles die away into silence. Until now it had not occurred to you how close they were. How close the blade was to striking. You let out a breath and looked around. Everything seemed a bit more foggy than usual. Then, from across the room, you heard it—a soft creaking. And when you looked up, the door to Lem’s office was slowly falling open on its hinges. 

Like it was pulled by some invisible hand. 

And you felt the same tugging, the same formless compulsion, the same ghosting over your flesh. 

Across the hall, another door was drifting open by degrees, revealing a meticulously kept office with a shiny gold name plate:

Atreus.

Slowly, you let yourself be pulled—a puppet on strings—walking noiselessly across the corridor. In the doorway you paused, staring at the intricate black lettering. You wanted answers, and something told you this is where you’d find them. 

Into the belly of the beast. 

You took a careful step over the threshold, the air honey-thick and clinging to your skin. The office was spotless, not a paper out of place as you circled around the massive desk and ran your hands up the array of drawers. Each one was furnished with an ornate golden handle that glimmered in light from the hall. 

To your right, a drawer slid open just an inch or two. You watched, eyes wide, as it shuttered of its own accord out of place. And your hand similarly seemed to have a mind of its own, reaching out to grasp the handle and reveal it’s contents. 

Inside, nestled atop of a stack of folders was a small, black notebook. At first glance, it seemed innocuous. Not many people used pen and paper these days. But then the space around it started to shimmer, locking your gaze until the world outside it turned hazy. Shaking, your hand reached out fingertips brushing the leather bound cover. You bit your lip, teeth worrying the flesh as you sat on the floor and pulled the book into your lap. The ragged edges of each page caught on your nails when you flipped them open. 

Written in small, messy scrawl, was page upon page of notes. Words ran off the lines, and continued through the margins, most too minuscule or smudged to be legible. Multiple times, the Commander’s name was scratched in between sentences, angry obsessive markings that made your eyes sting. But you kept skimming, letting your hand be guided along. 

Until suddenly the pages stopped turning. 

And you stared down in horror. 

In the awful, disgusting script, was your name circled, underlined and bolded at the top of the paper. Thin, curving, inked arrows drew lines across the other mismatched text and you slapped a hand over your mouth to stifle the grating, garbled sound that threatened to escape your chest. 

There, the words stood out clear as day among the mess of lines.  

Bond. 

Your brain hadn’t even begun to register the implications of this, but you knew. 

This was the answer you’d been searching for. 

And you had no time to process it, because footsteps from the hall were approaching, quick and hard soled. Your eyes went wide and you scrambled to close the drawer and shove the book into your jacket pocket. Knees tearing on the carpet, you tucked yourself into the space under the desk and held your breath. 

Silence rang out in the tiny room. 

From outside, you heard the footsteps grow louder, closer, and finally come to a halt right in the doorway. 

Taglist lovelies: @couldntfuckingtellya @contesa-lui-alucard @thewilddingleberries @isaxhorror @cowboy-kylo @findyourdarkness @kit-jpg @shesakillerkween @obsessionprofessional

[cleacourgette]

Secret Santa

Summary:  

“Sometimes he’s at the beach. Maybe he found out its a good place to meditate. I know I do. And whatever it was that upset him, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Levihan Secret Santa Gift for @faerielleart  Hope you enjoy. I know you like and wanted the fluff stuff. I hope this is cute enough for you. <3 

A cloud of smoke caressed his face, the smell of it wasn’t too bad, but of course his choice would always fall on tea, coffe was much too strong and bitter. Tea, now that was delicate and soothing. But the situation called for him to bring a large cup of strong coffee to his commander. It honestly didn’t take long to get used to her being the commander. It was harder to accept Erwin had died, than Hange being the commander. But she was a lot harder to take care of.  

He left her room last night, with her sitting at the desk, piles of papers and a small warning to go to bed soon, or he would drag her ass across the floor to sit on that cursed bed to rest. He had a feeling the his threat would do close to nothing. It was a habit of hers to ignore all of his requests, no matter how dire the situation may be. Her well beying wasn’t a priority for her. But it was for him.  

The tray was heavy on his numb arms, coffee, bread, butter and jelly, milk a whole lot of things they weren’t used to have daily, was now a constant. The trading and commercialization was fruitful, and all thanks to her. His commander.  

Leaning his weight against the door, he was able to easily open it, she didn’t even bother to actually close it, it was just as he left it yesterday. When he saw her, he wasn’t surprised. Angry obviosly, but not surprised.  

“Ya really enjoy to fucking burn my pacient. Don’t ya?” His voice startled her, making her jump a little in her place. When she turned to look at him, he saw the heavy circles around her eyes, the redness in them, the mess her ponitail became. Her lips were dry and chapped when she opened her mouth with tired smile to say. “Good morning Levi.”  

“No.”Visibly angry, he started. “God damn it Hange, yer gonna hill yerself this way. It aint funny, ya god damn imbecile.” The tray was dropped on the desk, milk and coffe spilling from their respective containers, just enough to soak the bread. Now he made a mess because of her and his patience ran shorter even “This has to end! Ya need to rest and eat like a normal human being!” He was up close to her face, a vein popping out of his forehead, eyebrows digging deep, and she could swear she could hear him snarl.  

The faint smile she tried to wear was slowly fading when he started yelling. Now all she was wearing was a surprised expression with the dark circles even more dark and deep. She sighed, taking her hand to rest on her temple, rubbing it a little. Again, he was so annoying with his constant worry for her, his constant yelling to take a shower, to eat, to not bother so much. How could she not? She was the commander. “I don’t have time for this Lev--”  

“Yer right!” He interrupted. “Ya don’t have time for this, because yer getting yer ass on that bed right now. And I don’t wanna hear ya complain anymore.” He turned around, reaching for her messy bed, touching the sheets. Harsh, yes, he was alreayd harsh, but this was the only way to get to her. It was the only way to make her rest, by forcing her. Good for him, he had no issues in actually be forcefull.  

Her mouth was hanging open, her brows started to sink forrowing, manifesting her frustartiong. This work was important, she was close to something here, something for the well beying of everyone, she really did not have the time for this. Its ridiculous how this became a daily topic between them.

Erwin made her the resposible one for them now, he trusted her. And she only wanted to do her best to fullfil his wish. He couldn’t have died in vain. Sure she needed to rest, but they needed her to be a commander. And Levi just didn’t understand the weight of her responsibility.  

“Get out of my room.” She said in a low voice, but high enough for him to hear. He perked up, kind of amused at her sad attempt to face him on this discussion.  

“We’re not discussing this anymore, Hange. Yer going to rest. Yer a fucking mess right now”  

“I told you to get out of my room, right now” Louder this time. She stood up from her seat, a mask of her angry personality kicking out.  

He chcukled. “D’ya really think I’m--”  

“Get out of my room Levi, its an order!” Finally she yelled. Making it very clear how serious she was. She was his boss after all, she could order him all she wanted, she wasn’t wrong. He is not her father or anything like it, they were just... friends.  

He’s seen that before. The temper tantrum, the uncontrolable rage. He’s seen that side of her more times than he wanted to. But it was never directed to him. It stung right on his heart. Did she really have to say it like that. Na order? Damn, that was rough, it hurt. “...An order? Huh...” He started dragging his feet towards the exit.  He took the tray in his hands, the remaining liquid pouring out, making even more of a mess, dragging himself and the tray after himself, he left, hitting the door on his way out, making her wince in her place.  

The room was incredibly silent when he was gone. And it hit her. What the fuck has she just done? Was she so tired that she ended up letting it get to her making a mess? That was no excuse. Levi was so important, she couldn’t talk to him that way, she knew what he was doing, it was not with bad intentions at all. “Levi!” She hurried out of her room, screaming his name. But he was nowhere to be found. She really had just scared him away, the one person who’s been dealing with her these last years after they lost everyone else.  

The day had gone by and no Levi to be seen. They hand’t had a fight this bad in a while, and now besides feeling tired and overworked, she also felt terrible for pushing him away.  

She dragged her feet around the headquarters and ended up finding herself at the cafeteria. Maybe the smell of freshly baked bread had brought her there. She was hungry after all. In the distance she found Mikasa. Ah, yes, Mikasa could know where Levi was. They have grown closer ever since they found out they were related, sometimes spending time together, trying to figure out what their family was.  

Tapping her shoulder, Hange gave her a smile.  

“Commander?” Mikasa tilted her head, locks of hair falling over her eyes. “Are you okay?” She didn’t realize how rude she was sounding, but Hange looked...well, incredibly tired.  

“Ah...yeah! Don’t worry, just overworking myself. Listen! Have you seen Levi?”  

“Hmm... now that you mention it. No not really, not all day.”  

All day? She really made a mess. She had been so stupid  that he ran away completely. Had he gone back to the city? Perhaps, he’s grown tired of taking care of her and just said it was enough after this.  

“Listen.” Mikasa interrupted her thoughts, bringing her back to real life. “Sometimes he’s at the beach. Maybe he found out its a good place to meditate. I know I do. And whatever it was that upset him, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”  

Hange always tried to hide her personality, her real feelings, but it was her fault to wear them on her sleve. It ended up making her the most obvious person for everyone else around her. And Mikasa knew. Probably because she had important people as well. “Yeah...I...thank you. I’ll try to check the beach. “  

With a sweet wave, and a lighter heart, Hnage said goodbye to the girl. When had they grown up so much? Time has gone by so fast, she didn’t even noticed they were all adults now. She didn’t have to walk around in circles and eggshells, they weren’t kids anymore. She couldn’t blame them for being this honest and bright.  

The night had came fast, all the worry and tiredness have worn her out. But if she could find Levi by the end of the day, it had been totally worth it. It was no time lost when it was time for him after all. Her best friend. Hers...  

“Are ya fucking following me, ya stinky idiot?” Levi! He was really at the beach, but she was so tired she didn’t even notice him when she was walking in. Mikasa was right. The beach.  

“Ah... sorry, I wanted to soak my feet in the water. You know? Catch some slugs and investigate them.” She jokingly said.  

“Gross.” He noted. Shyly, he looked up at her, she was wearing her dumb smile. Visibly tired. She really hadn’t rested all day. What a mess of a woman. He was so drawn to her, so worried. “Thought ya ordered me to leave”  

His words sounded so sad. She didn’t even dare to continue making fun of the situation. “Yeah...I...sorry I didn’t mean it. Levi don’t...please don’t...!” As she tried to reach up for him, she tripped, and he caught her by her shirt. It wasn’t romantic, it was actually silly and funny.  

“Yer so goddamned tired.” Gently he let her down on the soft sand, dropping down with her, sitting, and quickly fixing her shirt. “Why don’t ya just listen to me.”  

“Sorry.” She grabbed his hands, smiling. “I’m really sorry, Levi. Don’t be angry at me, please?”  

“Tsk. Just listen to me next time.”  

That was his way of saying he forgave her. She promised herself she would be more careful next time. All the time really. There was no one more important. It was just the both of them after all. She smiled, cozily resting her head against him, closing her eyes. “I will!”  

The day ended with just the both of them at the beach. She quickly fell a sleep, and he was content. They needed more time like this, to just enjoy everything around them, and soak it in. Life wasn’t just to fight.  

[justatiredghost]

January Rain by the Sea Part 5

In a life of misery, the ocean is the only place Klaus has ever felt any sense of peace or belonging. He finds himself drawn here whenever it all gets to be too much

-

Klaus was trying to be careful, not wanting to tighten the net wrapped around Dave more than it already was, but his pocket knife wasn’t particularly big or sharp, causing him to have to saw at it roughly for longer than he’d like. It was a little awkward, especially with Dave watching him with a guarded look that was nothing like how he’d looked at him earlier that evening.

“So, what’s the story, then?” Klaus asked, desperate for anything to talk about. “Do you get dressed up and go swimming after dark like this often? Or—”

He reached out, planning to snap the waistband of what had to be a fake fishtail, but he touched his hip where tiny scales began, only to find that they really were sprouting from his skin. The detail was too precise, just a scattering before they became full overlapping scales that you’d expect on a fish. He couldn’t imagine anything fake holding up against his squirming and thrashing, being dragged across the sand as well as the coarse ropes of the netting. It had even damaged the tail in some areas, and there was no faking the rope burns or the bleeding. Or the way his tail curled that legs and knees couldn’t.

“Did you really expect it to be fake?” Dave asked, trying to hide the hint of a smile despite himself.

“Huh,” Klaus said. “This isn’t how I thought it would go, but I always knew the drugs would kill me eventually. Am I having a stroke or something?”

“I don’t think that’s how strokes work.”

“So you’re not a hallucination, then?” Klaus asked, studying him through squinted eyes in mock-suspicion.

“If I say that I am, what are the odds I get out of this alive?” Dave asked, turning grim again.

“Woah, woah,” Klaus said, raising his hands. “Who said anything about dying?”

“I mean,” Dave said. “Despite how I looked earlier, I’m not exactly human. Most people would be more than happy to sell me out.”

“Fame and fortune?” Klaus asked, waving a hand dismissively as he went back to cutting through the net. “Yeah, been there already, and I’d rather never go back.”

“So, what, you’re just gonna let me go?” Dave asked skeptically.

“I mean, yeah,” Klaus said. “Kidnapping isn’t really my thing. I mean, what am I supposed to do with a whole ass human? One that’ll have to live in a bathtub too. Besides, pretty sure everyone’s just looking for an excuse to lock me up. Can you imagine what would happen if I started going around telling everyone Merfolk are real?”

“Oh,” Dave said. “Um, thanks.” It didn’t exactly look like he believed him, but there was at least enough doubt that he didn’t look so hopeless, so that was nice at least.

“Just to be clear, though,” Klaus said, hoping to get him to relax. “You are the same Dave I met earlier, right?”

“Yeah?” Dave said, looking confused by the question.

“Okay, cool,” Klaus nodded, and he finally managed to untangle his tail, which Dave stretched cautiously, either because of his injuries, or because he didn’t want to accidentally smack Klaus, which he appreciated. “You can never be sure with these kinds of things.”

“I want to ask what you mean by that, but I’m afraid to know the answer.”

“Probably for the best. I’ve lived a wild life. Now, can I—“

He gestured to the net still wrapped around his chest, trapping his hand, and Dave nodded after a moment. His eyes fell closed as Klaus drew in close, his breathing finally seeming to calm.

“So,” Klaus said, trying to keep the conversation going. “When you said you had a thing tonight, you meant a fish thing?”

“Yeah,” he hesitated, like he wasn’t sure how much he should give away, and Klaus figured he should probably change the subject to something less personal.

“What about that trap you set up for your boss? How did that go?”

“Oh, it worked,” he said, chuckling more out of surprise than anything. “Thankfully, he doesn’t know it was me, otherwise he’d have sacked me immediately. Not that it matters now.”

“Way to be cryptic,” Klaus said, finally slicing through the last of the rope and throwing it to the side. “What does that mean?”

“Just—“ Dave said, avoiding eye contact as he rubbed life back into his numb arm. “It’s probably about time I moved on.”

“Hang on,” Klaus said. “You’re not leaving because of this, are you? Because it’s really not that embarrassing. I’ve done way worse stuff, ask anyone.”

“I don’t know. I’ve done some pretty stupid things, I’m honestly surprised this is the first time someone saw me. Just, I can’t have anyone knowing who I am.”

“Well, now I feel bad,” Klaus said. “I don’t care. Can you use your Mer-powers to wipe my memory?”

“I don’t— I don’t have any mind wiping powers,” Dave said in confusion.

“Oh well, worth a shot,” Klaus shrugged. “My sister could make me forget probably, but that means telling her, so we’ll just be right back where we started with someone knowing.”

“Your sister?” Dave asked, shaking his head. “I really can’t tell when you’re joking or not.”

Usually, Klaus went out of his way to never mention his family or the Academy. Unless he thought it might get him into an exclusive club or a discount or something. But he knew Dave’s secret, and he honestly did want to reassure him, maybe share a secret of his own so he wouldn’t feel so exposed. Klaus really had no idea what had gotten into him, he wasn’t this honest with anyone. This guy just felt so familiar, so right, that he found himself not caring about his usual caution. So he decided to keep going.

“Oh, I’m not kidding at all. She’s the Rumor. She got the fun power, I just get to listen to ghosts screaming.”

“I assume that’s supposed to mean something to me, but for the life of me, I have no idea,” Dave said, just looking more and more confused.

“Seriously? You’ve really never heard of me?” Klaus asked. “The Seance, the sexiest and most fun member of the Umbrella Academy? Where have you been living, under a rock?

“Kinda,” Dave admitted with a chuckle. “But the Umbrella Academy does sound familiar. That was the thing with the superhero kids, right? You were one of them?”

“That’s one way to but it I guess,” Klaus grumbled. “Way to make it sound incredibly boring.”

“And you said your power was ghosts?” Dave asked.

“Yeah, but I don’t think ghosts are going to be able to help us here. Not that I could hear them right now, even if I wanted to.”

“This has been one of the most wild conversations I have ever heard, and you’re the one who just found out I’m not human. How did that happen?”

“I told you, I’ve lived a wild life,” Klaus winked.

Klaus dug around in his pockets until he found what he was looking for and held it up in victory. He’d forgotten he had a spare joint, although now it was incredibly soggy. “Aha, I do have one left! So, are you gonna chill here and smoke with me, or do you need to head out on very important Mer business?”

“You’re gonna smoke that?” Dave asked, skeptically.

“It’s only a little damp,” Klaus said. “I just gotta dry it out first.”

“Right, well, good luck with that,” Dave said, turning away towards the ocean. “And thanks. For saving me.”

“Hey, it’s whatever, am I right? Just don’t make a thing out of it,” Klaus said, flopping onto his back and staring up at the stars. “I’d offer to walk you home like a real gentleman, but I’m not a gentleman, and also I imagine there’s a bit less walking and a bit more swimming involved.”

“Goodbye, Klaus.”

Klaus waved without looking, digging his toes into the sand. He must have taken his shoes off when he jumped into the water, he needed to remember to grab those, but at least this felt nice right now. He didn’t even hear Dave splash into the water, the next time he looked up, he was just gone. For some reason, a wave of melancholy washed over him as he was left alone on the beach. What was up with him, lately? He really needed to smoke this joint.

[endlessdoom]

Line in the Sand

3 maps by various authors.

2021

https://www.doomworld.com/forum/topic/115829-line-in-the-sand-team-mapping-challenge-beta-1-out-now/

MAP01: Rejecting Dignity, Evicting Royalty by Worm318 and Weirdsandwich

A beast, a magnifcent beast! This gigantic map starts with the classic exploration system that reveals little by little the real magnitude of the map. I have to mention first that the creative premise of this WAD is that each map was made by two authors, each having a respective part of the map for their own pleasure and should not cross over to the other side of the other author's map, hence Line in the Sand. While it is a bit difficult to find the true distinctions of each author if you don't know much about each author's repertoire (and also if they are so good that they are able to create a unified and well planned map) each map section can feel the true major effort that went into it. In this case we have one that encourages exploration, combat in enclosed areas and gives us a fantastic feeling of fantasy or medieval exploration thanks to a great MIDI accompaniment. While the length of the map easily exceeds 25 minutes, or more, depending on your play style, at no point did I ever feel truly lost or disoriented. There are a multitude of paths but each one is interconnected in such a way that we end up exploring something new and always arrive at the destination we are meant to reach. With only two keys needed to reach the exit, the flow of the map is quite enviable and fantastic, creating an excellent sense of progress that does not stop and remains stable, as well as a good gameplay that is pleasantly graded. A great map from start to finish. 4/5

MAP02: Reawakening into Samsara by ViolentBeetle and Pegleg

The second and penultimate map. Less large than the previous one but with a similar quality that borders from shoulder to shoulder. With a more drastic style that changes from room to room, the map starts off with a bang by throwing us into a small arena with Cacodemons and Archies ready to do a good job of us. After this introduction the map opens up and we are welcomed into a cool acid and platforming section, full of enemies and plenty of opportunities to approach and fight. The map evolves in this way, following a simple but attractive scheme of new room " new combat " new reward " repeat. This formula creates a great map that does not feel the same at any time, offering a great variation both visually and in gameplay in every minute that we go playing, creating a great atmosphere of fighting in which we feel as if we were really fighting in a hellish fortress. Add to that one of the best MIDIs I've ever heard and we have a map of orgasmic proportions. Complex in terms of its visual appeal but with an understandable layout that encourages you to play it without stopping for a single second. Fantastic to the hundred and a real gem to enjoy if you like those maps of unstoppable action. 5/5

MAP03: Chaotic Plateau by 4MaTC and Surreily

As a kind of error in the matrix, we have a map that combines two visual styles under a graphic progression system where small patches and fragmentations of the map show a combination of the different themes. Like two dimensions fighting to dominate each other, all in a modest and simple way that sets its priority under vanilla. On the one hand, it is also a challenging map with a multitude of paths and surprises that make navigation quite complex, reaching points where we will probably run into a wall and not know where to go. A pity, taking into account that the map is incredible from an aesthetic point of view, proudly showing a giant and extensive architecture that combines different modes under a clear division thanks to the ''line in the sand''. With a progressive but challenging gameplay, you can expect a few minutes playing this solid beast. 3/5

End.

Overall:

» Maps created by multiple authors is not a new thing to the community. It has probably been done since the beginning, like the Doom 2 maps made by Tom Hall and then finalized/tweaked by Romero or Petersen. A practice that back then was born out of pure necessity to get a deadline or simply because the situation required it. On the other hand, this method of working is one that can also result in a combination of different styles working in synergy to deliver a monument to cooperation and extravagance. Introducing Line in the Sand, a compilation of 3 maps made by a total of 6 authors, each working in pairs for each map, so each map is made by no less than 2 authors. The main concept of this WAD is that the maps are not only worked in cooperation, but also have a certain distinctive feature: The maps are ''divided'' by a line, hence, Line in the Sand, and no author should leave his line or retouch the other section. The result? An interesting amalgamation of concepts and visuals that works successfully to deliver something different and entertaining. From the beginning we will realize that despite being only 3 maps, each map is a beast on its own terms. These are huge maps that will undoubtedly take you more than 20 minutes to complete, or up to 30 or more if your game mode is that of the patient and explorer. Each map makes incredible use of stock textures to create a design that is appealing to the eye and nostalgic to the heart, designed with great care and attention to detail. Huge fortresses that expand to the limit of drawing or gigantic hellish caves full of labyrinthine paths and demonic hordes. You have it all. Each map feels like a fantastic adventure; a journey through the vanilla world where we are presented with a set of fantastic art designs that work fantastically well with each mapper's style. Thanks to the simple but interesting rule of drawing a line that divides the maps in half, each author has enough freedom to expand the map to their liking or, if they wish, create a cohesive style that works side by side. This trifecta of maps shows you that under good hands, great things can be created if you set the boundaries well and follow a clear idea. But of course, as is to be expected from massive maps, we can also expect massive combat. All maps have more than 300 enemies in UV, some reaching twice that. However, contrary to what you might think, this is not slaughter, but a precise form of gameplay where combat is based on a progressive flow of more difficult encounters per turn. Some may throw you into direct combat from the start, but the massive map design will also give you more than enough opportunity to take different approaches to the encounter. Die, revive, repeat, die. Sure, I don't think you die a lot (at least I didn't die more than 5 times in one map) but the idea of it is that even if you die many times, you always have a plan B, C or D for your next attack. Many strategies are open thanks to the set of decisions in the design. Sometimes you can take a different route or completely ignore a certain encounter. As I said earlier, the maps feel like a journey through a battlefield, as you decide where to go and where to fight. Line in the Sand is a project with enormous potential. While it's sad that the rest of the maps have not been finished, this trio of maps does more than enough to make up for it with their fantastic design and fun gameplay. Just to say that it personally took me over 1 hour to finish all 3 maps, I can tell you that I am more than satisfied with the result. Of course, big also means that if your navigation skills are not very good, you might get lost, but that's the important thing about these maps being so open and promoting exploration: getting lost is part of the fun. In conclusion, a great explosive project.