#are you alive? ima make him say of course!!! can you come to my house? ill make him say ill be there!!!

[mytummyhurts-ouch]

GENDICE FUNFACT!!

did you know their eyes contrast eachother!! cuties.... 🫶

[thoughtfulhog]

Are you alive?

Huh?

Ima make him say:

"Of course."

Can you come to my house tonight?

Huh?

Ima make him say:

"I'll be there."

i thought i was being poetically threatened at first

[sotheywrotestories]

Eleven at Night |peter parker|

Request: none

Pairings: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter’s out with a friend when a girl shows up at Avengers tower looking for him. (Everyone’s alive AU)

Warnings: Mentions of violence, crying, a little bit of angst, some really cute fluff

Word Count: 1733

                                                           ***

It was eleven at night and Tony had to answer the damn door. The tower was open to the community 24/7, but the top fifteen floors were always closed to very limited personal. These floors were the living quarters of the Avengers team. How someone had managed to wiggle their way onto the main floor of their home slightly pissed him off.

There was a very specific passphrase needed to even get the elevator to go up to these levels, Tony was just hoping it was actually someone important, not someone crazy who just figured it out.

He did not expect to open the door to a teary-eyed, teenage girl. Her hair was a mess and she was clad in a very oversized hoodie that looked suspiciously like one of his interns.

“Hello?” he said, looking the girl up and down.

“Hi,” she said, her voice raspy from disuse.

“Can I…help you?” Tony nearly laughed.

“Um, is Peter here?” she asked, peering over Tony’s shoulder. “He told me to come here if I ever had an…issue.”

“Wanna tell me who you are first?” Tony lightly grabbed the girls arm, pulling her into the main living room. “How do you know Peter?”

She sat on the couch, playing with the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

“I’m his girlfriend,” she slightly smiled. “Sorry, uh, I’m (Y/N).”

“Never heard of you.” Tony crossed his arms. “Why are you here?”

“Well,” the girl started, her eyes downcast.

“Who’s this?” Wanda walked into the room, upset that she had to be up so late due to the people talking in the living room.

“This is (Y/N). Peter’s girlfriend, evidently,” Tony said.

“Sorry to wake you guys up, I just-“ now she was close to tears. It didn’t help that Natasha had walked in and cut the poor girl off.

“Who are you and why are you here so late,” Natasha growled.

“Nat,” Wanda shushed. “Give the girl a minute to speak.”

“Sorry,” (Y/N) cried. “It’s just, I was going to Peter’s apartment tonight but some random guy started talking to me, asking me where Spider-Man was but I know I’m not supposed to let anyone know that I know that Peter’s Spider-Man, so I told him to leave me alone but then he kept asking and asking and asking, but I was so close to his apartment and I made a run for it but he grabbed my arm and pulled me into an alley so I screamed and stomped on his foot and ran but then-“

“Calm down,” Wanda placed a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “It’s okay, you’re safe here. Take a deep breath, slow down, tell us what happened.”

“Okay,” (Y/N) took a deep breath, time enough for Tony and Natasha to grab seats close to the young girl. “He followed me to Peter’s apartment, thankfully May was home, but Peter wasn’t. So I came here. Peter told me to come here in case of an emergency.”

“Okay,” Natasha said calmly. “Do you remember what he looked like?”
 “No, please don’t ask me anything else, I just want to see Peter.”

The three shared a look, not sure where Peter was, thinking he had been home the whole night.

“I’ll call him,” Tony whispered, leaving the other three alone.

Natasha moved to Tony’s seat, keeping a firm hand on (Y/N)’s back to keep her grounded.

Wanda had taken a slight peek into (Y/N)’s head (she knew she didn’t have the poor girls consent but she also wanted to make sure she hadn’t left anything out of her story). The end decision was to lead (Y/N) to Peter’s room at the tower to calm her down for a little while.

“Here,” Wanda helped (Y/N) up. “Let’s get you into a bed, okay? Why were you going to Peter’s so late at night?”

“I was out late at the library and I didn’t want to walk all the way home,” (Y/N) sniffled. “So I thought I would go to Peter’s.”

Natasha and Wanda shared another look behind the poor girls back, not too sure how to go about the situation.

They set her down on Peter’s bed, letting her keep the very oversized sweatshirt on. It would have been more practical to keep her on the couch, where they could keep an eye on her, but the ultimate decision was to keep her where she felt more comfortable.

“Where’s Peter?” she called out, wrapping herself in his heavy duvet, intoxicated by his smell.

“Tony’s getting him,” Wanda stroked the young girl's hair, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Why don’t you lie down.”

(Y/N) began to frantically shake her head.

“Can I just wait? For Peter?” she asked, not wanting to fall asleep just yet. “I just want Peter.”

“He’s on his way,” Tony entered the room. “He was at Ned’s house.”

Natasha nodded to Wanda. “I’m going to sleep. Let me know if you need anything.”

Tony stepped out of the way, letting Natasha get by. Once her footsteps had fallen out of earshot, Tony sat on the other side of (Y/N).

“Hey, kid. I know you don’t want to talk right now, but I need to know how close you and Peter are,” Tony said.

She shrugged, knowing Tony meant well but also knowing she was not in a healthy mental state to talk to him yet.

“We’ve been dating for about ten months…I found out about Spider-Man, and I know I shouldn’t know and that you’ll be mad at Peter for letting it slip,” (Y/N) hiccuped. “But please don’t be. He’s a good guy, he means well.”

“I’m not mad,” Tony reassured the girl, sending a sad look to Wanda. “No, I get it. He’s just never talked-“

“He wanted to keep work and social separate. But he told me to come here if anything ever happened. He said he knew I knew Spider-Man.” (Y/N)’s eyes met Tony’s, the look in her eyes haunting his mind. “That can’t be good.”

And it wasn’t. But Wanda and Tony knew better than to further spook someone who was already in shock.

“(Y/N)?” Peter’s voice came from down the hall, effectively reawakening Natasha, as well as stirring Loki.

Peter slid into his own room, his socked feet easily slipping on the hardwood floor.

“Hey,” he said, spotting the disheveled girl on his bed, completely disregarding Tony and Wanda. “Hey-don’t get up.”

Peter rushed to the bed, crawling straight to (Y/N) and pulling her into his lap. His left hand immediately tangled itself in her hair, his right hand keeping a firm grip on her hip, tugging her as close to him as he could.

“Everything okay?” Peter asked, finally looking at Tony.

His first concern would always be (Y/N). She wasn’t someone to look for help. She never reached out to people, she hated looking vulnerable. When he got a call so late at night that she had shown up at the tower, he panicked.

“Some guy knows I know you,” (Y/N) said, her voice slightly muffled against Peter’s shoulder. “He tried to take me to a secondary location.”

Peter cracked a little laugh at her short attempt at humor.

“I’m glad you didn’t go with him. Your chances of coming back would have been very low,” Peter teased, laying his head on top of hers.

Tony and Wanda looked shocked at Peter’s bluntness with (Y/N), but relaxed when she giggled.

“I think I made a mistake, though,” she said, quieter this time. “I think he managed to follow me to your building.”

“Well, I’m glad you got to safety, even if that means exposing my super-secret hideout,” Peter teased a bit more. “Mr. Stark, it’s okay if May and (Y/N) stay here for a little while, right?”

No one could quite recall the number of times Tony had offered to house the Parkers, to say he was ready was an understatement.

“Of course they can. (Y/N), do you want your family to move in as well?” Tony asked, not wanting to split (Y/N) from her family.

Peter tightened his hold on (Y/N), shooting something of a disappointed look at Tony.

“I’ve actually been staying with May lately…I don’t think my family is an issue,” (Y/N) said.

Wanda’s eyebrows furrowed, her mind going a mile a minute. She knew it wasn’t her business to worry about why she wasn’t staying with her parents, why she was taking a residency with the Parkers, but being the kind heart the was, she worried.

“Great,” Tony placed a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “We’ll set up your room, get May’s room back to how it was, just changing the sheets again, and then we can start on (Y/N)’s room. You okay staying here tonight?”

“Yeah, that’s great,” Peter said for (Y/N). “Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“Anytime, kid. Tell FRIDAY to call me if you need anything.”

“(Y/N)?” Wanda reached out to the girl again. “Do you need anything? Water or anything before I go to bed?”

(Y/N) shook her head and Peter smiled softly at Wanda.

“I think I’ve got it from here,” Peter whispered. “Thanks, Miss Maximoff.”

Peter’s fingers found themselves trying to card themselves through her hair.

“Ow,” (Y/N) whined.

“Sorry,” Peter smiled. “Just wanted to try.”

(Y/N) smiled up at him for a split second.

“Let’s lie down, pretty girl,” Peter whispered, keeping her close to his chest as he reclined into the soft pillows only Tony Stark could afford.

“I didn’t like him,” (Y/N) said, her nose rubbing against the soft skin of Peter’s neck.

“I know, love,” Peter sighed, pulling the heavy duvet over her shoulders and tucking the end underwear chin. “But everyone’s gonna stay here and we’ll be fine. Oh, we’ll have so much fun! I can show you around the Tower, ‘cause there’s so much to do here. Plus, we can just come straight here after school! And on Fridays, Mister Stark lets Ned and MJ come over, so we can have slumber parties! And May loves you so much, she’s going to love living here. Even if it’s just for a little while. How long do you think we’ll have to stay here?”

Peter was answered with silence, looking down to see (Y/N) snoring away in the crook of his neck. He smiled, pushing away the hairs at the crown of her head and placing a delicate kiss on her forehead.

“Love you, darling.”

Tag list: @thatcluelessone @ima-fucking-nerd​​  @embrace-themagic @fireboltrose5737@whatdafricklefrackle@peeterparkr @sherlokiantheatrenerd @legit-fandom-trash​ @abitchformarvel​​​ @dark-night-sky-99​​ @dreams-of-feysand

[done-mer-moved]

i Also don't know ur OCs but: 1, 4, 5, 8, 15, 22, 23, 24, 25, 33, 42, 50, 54, 56, 61, 73, and 78 please? -drunkmiraak

[[LKdghlkj sorry this took so long!! I got super sick so it sat half-done in my drafts for 84 years. @drunkmiraak]]

Oh boy oh boy oh boy!

So, while I’ve got half a billion OCs by technicality, my main idiot is Azaryne Redoran who takes the role of the Vestige in the ESO story I write with @sinnaroll by the name of Soulbound. (Ima also just casually pass on these questions for her to answer in reply for D'tannen, who is the other main character in this thingy so you can get to know him too!)

Thank you so much for asking!! Here we gooooo~!

1. What is/are your OC’s nickname(s) and how did it come about?

Az’s main nickname is the self-explanatory name shortening from “Azaryne” to “Az”. But D'tannen has kinda stuck on jabbing him with “pretty boy” to the point where it’s basically a nickname lol 

Also, in-game plot reasons dictate that the Five Companions also know him by “Vestige”, much to his dismay. It’s what the Scrolls named him by, so the Prophet tends to slip and refer to him that way, and the others kinda do too by proxy for a while. However, after Az makes it clear that he’s really uncomfortable with it, Lyris and Sai specifically make a point not to call him that.

4. What is a noticeable physical attribute of your OC?

So I memed twice earlier before I got to these questions lasdgkh gomen, but my goofier answers are Dorito Shape and Resting Trouble Face

But more seriously, one of his major notable physical features is that he’s pretty much covered in tattoos from his neck down past his waist and starting down his legs. They’re being redesigned from scratch right now because I can’t ever allow myself to have characters that can be adequately represented in game i guess lmfao but here’s the in-game tattoos with some photo-editing for an earlier visual draft on where they might cut off—

It’s a total personal headcanon but I decided that since the in-game body marking style was pretty clearly influenced by Maori-style kiriituhi, that Az’s tattoos are also highly significant in a similar way. Each piece symbolizes or connects to either his ancestry, or his own life and skills and milestones. His designs weren’t finished, but have the indication of where they were meant to continue as he hit new points in his life. Unfortunately, since his life was cut so short, that’s as far as they ever get.

On a lighter note, he also has pretty big ears?? Lmao

5. What does your OC normally wear? What would your OC wear on a special night?

He likes clothes that are comfortable but flattering. He knows what his assets are and enjoys looking well-dressed – a bit of a remnant from his previous life as a noble. 

He tends to favor sleeveless tops and cool-colored fabrics with neutral accents. He particularly likes blues of all shades, and some purples. He’ll also occasionally wear red. On his travels he wears leather armor that fits within these features, and notably has a Khajiiti-style jack because he liked the aesthetic of it when he saw the style in a tailor’s display. 

When he’s dressing up, he’ll wear more flowing robe-like attire. He had more reason to do so while he was alive, and at the time it was usually specifically Dunmeri cultural clothing. Over the course of Soulbound, he only dresses up the once so far for a date with Sinna. That takes place in Orsinium, so it’s Orcish formal wear. 

Even if the situation’s not a fancy one, though, he’ll usually still wear kohl eyeshadow, which D’tannen gives him shit for, of course lol.

8. How does your OC talk/what does your OC’s voice sound like?

Az’s voice is light, crisp, warm and friendly. It’s between tenor and baritone in range, and the expected Dunmeri accent. He’s well spoken, and you can tell he’s well educated, but his phrasing isn’t snobbish or condescending, and there’s a firm sort of sincerity to his speech, even when he’s being playful.

15. What was your OC’s childhood like?

Az’s childhood was a little complicated in that it came with a great deal of privilege, but also a great deal of expectation. He was noble-born— the eldest son of House Redoran’s Archmaster— so before he was even old enough to have an awareness of the world, his parents had already decided many things about his future. 

In spite of both this and the constant pressure of the Redoran philosophy that “a light, careless life is not worth living”, Az had an untamable spirit that continuously tried his parents’ patience. As a child, his impulsivity, tendency to bend the rules, and headstrong defiance on points he fundamentally disagreed with led to frequent discipline, and a particularly strained relationship with his father.

Over time, he begrudgingly learned to play by the rules, but would still disappear from time to time for brief moments of freedom. 

He had two younger siblings— Eralane and Meril, and they had very close and loving relationships with each other. Az always did his bes to see right by them, so they felt safe in knowing that he would always have their backs. They didn’t ever keep much from him, as a result, and Meril specifically often looked up to him as a role model.

By the time he was fourteen, he’d been arranged into a political betrothal to solidify clan relations within the House, and it was decided that the two would be married in 16 years when they were both fully grown adults. Neither he nor his intended fiancée were really comfortable with this, but even as young as they were, they knew it was a sticky situation far bigger than just the two of them. So, they quickly established that, future aside, they didn’t feel entitled to each other’s feelings. They would both rather have a straightforward, honest friendship than try to force things between them. 

Because of this, there was no tension when other chemistries developed in later years. Instead, they continued to ignore their inevitable marriage, and turned their performative date nights into formally-dressed vent and gossip sessions. Using the expectations put upon them to their advantage as they got older, they also happily became each other’s alibi when either of them needed time away with other people.

22. Who is/are your OC’s closest friend(s)?

Since arriving back on Tamriel, he’s been shuffling company a lot on his journeys. He’s also pretty introverted, despite being fairly socially adept. He doesn’t have any real connections from his previous life anymore, but has met many people and made casual friends and positive acquaintances with a solid chunk of new ones.

In terms of more serious friendships, D’tannen is honestly the closest, which is kind of incredible honestly laksdhg. But, they travel with each other day in and day out, so there’s a tight bond there that’s developing fast.

He’s also particularly attached to Irvane, who was his first friend since coming back to Nirn.

23. Who are the people your OC surrounds him/herself with?

Along the same lines as I just said above, he’s never in one place for very long right now, so he is constantly around new people. His kind heart and need for hands-on activity means he tends to gravitate toward people he can help in some way or another. His empathy and sense of honor do most of the weeding. He’d rather be around someone who has shown good intentions, even if they are rough around the edges, than someone who rests on the laurels of past deeds and judges others against themselves.

24. Who are the people your OC dislikes/hates?

It’s pretty damn hard to make this list, at least if you have any sort of good bone in your body. He’s really very empathetic and patient, and will forgive so quickly once he feels amends have been made that it’s honestly gotten him into trouble.

But, even with that said, he’s got some strong resentments for some strong reasons… Notably: Mannimarco and his Worm Cult, ol’ Molag Bal himself, and pretty much anyone who allies with them… Malacus is another name that quickly finds its way on the list under “kill unflinchingly” as he becomes closer with D’tannen.  

25. If your OC has a soulmate, who is it?

oh my god im so sorry this joke is just right here its too easy to grab i can’t help myself – 

Doesn’t a soulmate require… a soul…? 

33. What subjects interested your OC?

He’s always done whittling as a hobby, so he’s currently kinda advancing on that in woodcarving. Since he was also trained in maintaining and repairing his own weapons and armor in life, that’s carried over into an interest in actually crafting weapons on his own. He does wind up making his own bow way later on, and even spends a bit of time with the Morkul Orcs in the Orsinium arc learning to do some metalwork.

42. What makes your OC happy?

He’s very attached to his dog Blackjack, and the mutt can always seem to pick him up when he’s otherwise faltering. He loves whittling and tends to carve little objects to occupy his mind. Complicatedly, D’tannen makes him happy as well, lol. 

He also tends to have moments where he finds happiness in specific things, but the emotion related feels strange or misplaced. When this happens, it’s usually because whatever he’s experiencing— a particular sight or smell or flavor— is something that ties directly to a positive memory he’s lost from his life before. A sort of unwitting-nostalgia that’s hard to pinpoint or replicate.

As a general rule, he’s pretty easily contented. He lives very much in the moment, which combined with his adaptability and natural optimism, means that he’s usually able to find some small spark of cheer for himself anywhere he goes. He’s always wanted the freedom of life as an adventurer, so if circumstances were different, this would honestly be an ideal life for him. However, it’s pretty dampened by the stress of current events, along with the nagging restless and hollow feeling of having lost his soul.

50. What secrets does your OC have?

This is a bit of a tricky one. He’s not a super open person, but he also doesn’t like to lie to cover things up. However, there are many things about his life at present that he finds he has to dance around giving knowledge of. In some ways, the very nature of his current existence is something he keeps tucked away. It’s not very easy to explain to anyone, so he’s grateful that for the majority of the people he interacts with, direct questions never really come up.

In the second act of Soulbound, however, after he becomes very close with Sinna, Sinna asks him directly for his story. He dodges it for quite some time before finally giving him the details, but he’s kind of nervous at that point to state it. He doesn’t know how Sinna might react. But, he lays it out on the table anyway: He’s not truly alive. He’s what remained of himself after he was sacrificed by cultists to Molag Bal. His soul was stolen, and he has only vague pieces of memories from when he lived. And now, he’s been prophesied to assist in stopping a daedric invasion. 

Sinna’s response was heartfelt. But, nobody could blame him for the fact that all he could manage for a brief moment after listening was “Wild….”

54. Does your OC think with his/her head or heart?

Heart… His upbringing tried its best to instill an ability to detach for the sake of duty, but honestly, he’s never been able to. Even when he knows there’s no way he can avoid a difficult situation, and is able to approach it tactically, emotion will be gnawing at him all the while, and he’ll be completely staunch on the things he believes the most if those interfere with the “logical” course of action.

56. What are some of your OC’s strengths?

He’s honestly got a wide range of skills in a lot of ways. He’s a highly skilled archer, and has a very well-rounded set of combat and survival skills that have been hardwired into him since a very young age. He’s also got a great sense of aesthetics, which he likes to express in woodworking and whittling when he can. He’s intelligent, but a lot of his skill specifically in emotional/social intelligence comes from his powerful empathy, and how dramatic swings of circumstances in his life have given him many perspectives to draw from, even subconsciously through the massive amnesia he struggles with. He’s incredibly adaptable. He’s intensely loyal, courageous, and firmly optimistic even through the worst circumstances. He’s got an incredibly strong character to him, and it tends to be both charming and inspiring, even when he doesn’t recognize that he’s producing these effects himself.

61. What is the general impression your OC gives other people?

Honest. Empathetic and selfless. Good-natured, down to earth, and a bit wild-spirited. Patient, incredibly forgiving. Helpful. Playfully charming. A protector. A defender of good.

73. What is your OC’s favorite form of entertainment?

He likes art, stories, nature, animals, and adventure. Crafting from time to time as well.

78. What is your OC’s favorite time of day?

Late morning. The point in the day when you’re up and awake and setting off. The whole day lies in wait before you, and you’re ready to meet it

[greyskywrites]

Wolf’s Price

[First] [Previous] [AO3] [ko-fi]

XXII. Turning

6.2k

Corvin and Tatton fell over each other coming to see me, each of them talking over the other, furious with themselves—with each other—for not having recognized me. I met them alone, not in the mood to have the same long conversations about my traveling companions that I had earlier had with our mother and brother.

Strange, how distant I felt from my two youngest brothers. By age we simply had never been as close as I had been with Julas, but they had been children when I left, and now they were young men who were complete strangers to me.

They were talkative, boastful young men, I soon learned. Corvin had grown broad, like our uncle Benwulf, and Tatton slender like our father, and like Julas. Though Tatton was young enough that might yet change. They asked so many questions about how I had lived, and I advised them to speak with Julas, because I had questions I needed them to answer for me. “Tell me about our brother’s wife.”

My two younger brothers grew quite hesitant, at that. “She is…” Tatton began.

“Kressosi,” Corvin finished, as if that told me all I needed to know.

“Is she more loyal to king and country than to her husband?” I asked.

They considered that a long moment, arguing amongst themselves. I gathered the answer was that they didn’t know, because no test of loyalty quite like myself had ever arisen before. “How is her son being raised?” I asked.

That, Corvin had a good many opinions about. “The only reason he’s present for Sarenn rites is because Julas insists,” he said, clearly angry. “If she had anything to say about it, he’d be raised with that cold, lifeless Kressosi religion only.”

“There’s a temple now,” Tatton sneered, “a little one, in the town. Julas had it built after he married her. There’s all kinds of Kressosi here now, and that priest comes to eat here every fifth morning.”

“That stuffy shit-eater,” Corvin muttered. “Did you know it’s not enough to have bathed before you go into a Kressosi temple? You have to be ‘blessed’ first. They wave a bunch of incense in your face, about damn choke you to death.”

I did know. I had never had occasion to visit a temple while I was in Kressos—Kaspar certainly hadn’t been pious, and wouldn’t have brought his maidservant at any rate, and neither Muras nor Todd made a point of attending, but Todd had described it for me once, when he was complaining about his priest brother. The incense was thought to purify the air, and though most Kressosi would not confess to believing in spirits or witches, historically its purpose had been to ward away malevolent forces from the doors of the temple. Sarenn did much the same by staking carved elk antlers around sacred areas. Ours just left the air significantly clearer, and required no particular purification of the individual, provided they had washed recently. Public baths in the days before a Sarenn holiday were a crowded nightmare.

“How much influence would you say the priest wields over Julas’ wife?”

“She… doesn’t much like him, really,” Tatton admitted. “But he’s the only Kressosi priest Arborhall has, so she hasn’t much choice.”

“And in the town?” I asked. “How many Kressosi would you say are here?”

“A few merchants, mostly,” Corvin said. “They have houses along the river, and brought their Kressosi servants along with them.”

Not so much influence as I might have feared, then.

“Liana,” Tatton said, and I could tell he had been gathering up his courage to ask me this question. “I heard—Julas was talking about the Wolf’s Son. That man who came with you…”

I met Tatton’s gaze. “He is. And he is here because he is helping me.”

There was a brief, heavy silence as my two younger brothers took that in.

“You turned the Wolf’s Son against the king of Kressos?” Corvin asked.

I nodded my assent.

Corvin let out a breath, sat back. “Father was right, you are more dangerous than anything that lives in the wilds.”

I smiled a little, at that. “Eba always did talk as if I were Liane herself.” I had thought a great deal on our legendary foremother, who skinned the hounds that killed her son and gave their names to her grandsons. Could I ever do such a thing? Name my grandchildren after what had murdered their father?

Perhaps, I thought, it was not so different from the lodge giving me the name Ima Vulgas.

#

I took Veland out in the night, when the moonlight was shining on the garden, bright enough as if it were midafternoon. Julas walked with us, hands clasped behind his back. The frogs were bellowing in every direction, filling the night with sound.

“I know some lords who are chafing at Kressosi rule,” Julas murmured. “More powerful houses than ours. I’ve extended invitations to a few, to come and visit me. I thought it would be best, if word of you could begin to spread through the houses before we make ourselves known to Kressos proper.”

I nodded, watching Veland hunting crickets in the dark. “That would be best, yes. We need some kind of united force.”

“They will want a king, Lya.”

“They will not get one.” Many close cousins of Corasin had been killed after the war, but there yet lived many who could make claims to the throne, if they were bold enough. I would not let that happen, either.

“They will need someone to unite behind.”

“Then they will have to settle for me,” I replied. “I will see it through to peace, but that is all I will do for them.” Uncompromising. The way Corasin had talked, though I did not relish the thought of having learned it from him.

“Lya—” Julas stopped himself. He did not wish to say that Saren would not unite behind a woman with a bastard child who would not give them a king.

I met his gaze. “I’m not fragile, Julas, you can tell me what you really think. That the lords of Saren will look at me and my refusal to give them the heir to the throne, and what they will make me out to be is nothing more than a traitorous whore playing at queen.”

I could not see Julas’ blush in the silvery light, but I could sense it in his posture. “I only mean that they will have expectations, and without those being met, they will not cooperate.”

“I think there are those to whom a free Saren means more than a king,” I said, “even if we do not agree on what it will look like after. I know I won’t be popular. I did not come here with the expectation of being greeted as a savior.” I let out a breath. “What I know is that I have been given a task. It was asked of me, not of my son.”

Julas was quiet a bit, and we watched Veland. “Father should never have let him take you away.” He sounded, for a moment, as if he were sixteen again.

“What could he have done?” I asked. “Who can say no, to the king?” I clasped my hands together. “That is why there can be no more. If there are no more kings of Saren, then there will be no more wives of the king.” I considered my next words carefully. “You should likely take another wife. A Sarenn wife.”

Julas was slow in answering. “She came with the expectation that she would be my only wife.”

“You answered to the king of Kressos, then.”

“I still do, as far as anyone else can know.” Julas let out a breath. “She is not a bad woman. I have… grown rather fond of her.”

“Be that as it may,” I said, “with my companions what they are, I cannot rely on my Sarenness being enough. And with you having only a Kressosi wife, we will both be called into question.”

Julas sighed. “I will think on it.”

“That’s all I ask,” I murmured.

“The beards,” Julas asked abruptly, “was that your work, or theirs?”

I laughed softly. “I think they wished to show me that they were… committed to our course of action.”

“I see,” Julas said, amusement creeping into his voice. “Have you told them how ridiculous they look?”

“Not in quite so many words. I think they know.” I had missed my brother. I reached out, and looped my arm through his. “Did Father really believe that I would come home?”

Julas put his hand on my arm. “The first thing he said, when he heard that you were missing, was that you were still alive. If you were still unafraid of the wild, then there was nothing there that could really harm you.”

“I was afraid,” I said, “dreadfully afraid. But I was determined that if I was going to die, it wouldn’t be by Kressosi hands.”

“We heard such terrible things,” Julas murmured, “about what happened there.”

“I only saw Corasin die,” I said.

Julas stopped where he stood, and looked at me. “You saw him killed?”

“And shed no tears over it,” I said, because I knew this question wasn’t about Corasin. It was about how I could have witnessed that, first hand, and still gone to Muras as I had. “What I wanted more than anything in the world was for Corasin to die.”

Julas let out a breath. “Why didn’t you divorce him, when you had the chance?”

“And be the only woman who had? Returning to my family like that? With anyone else my father might try to marry me to thinking on that, asking himself, ‘if the king wasn’t good enough for her, who is?’ Or asking themselves what the king might do to them, if they married a woman who had divorced him.”

Julas was quiet for a bit, when I said that. Veland came running back to us to show us the cricket he had caught, nearly too big to be safely held in his little hands. We praised him mightily for his skill at hunting, and I gently directed Veland to release it near where he had found it. “It has a life yet to live, to be parent to yet more crickets like it and feed the birds that hunt them, and those larger things which hunt the birds.”

Veland nodded gravely, going back to let the cricket loose.

“Does he know?” Julas asked, quietly.

“He does,” I said. “And he knows that being a king is very dangerous, and I mean to protect him from that.”

“Does he know who made him fatherless?”

“He does, but do you think it matters overmuch, to a boy who was fatherless from the moment he was born?” I watched the silhouette of my son through the flower bushes. “He calls Todd and Muras his uncles. The Kiruk Atsa still consider him kin. What does he need a father for, when he has so much family already?”

Julas wasn’t satisfied with that answer, as I knew he wouldn’t be. He didn’t enjoy the thought of being anything close to kin with Muras. “You’d heard about my son,” he said, changing the subject. “Orvas.”

“I had,” I said, deciding not to tell him what I thought about that name.

“I have a daughter, too,” Julas said, “she’s not quite three years old, now.”

I frowned, puzzled that Corvin and Tatton had not told me about that. “Congratulations,” I said.

“I named her Liana.”

I paused. “Ah.” Sarenn, typically, did not name their children after living relatives, only deceased ones. Julas had believed me dead, and so. He had given my name to his daughter. “How did our mother feel about that?” I had noted her candle in the window, still lit for my return. If it had gone out suddenly, that would have raised a good many questions for the servants delivering meals to a closed door.

“She wouldn’t say she was angry, but I knew she was,” Julas said. He sighed again. “I should like you to meet her, when it is safe.”

“I would like that,” I said.

“My wife is asking questions,” Julas confided. “I think she believes I have a mistress hidden away in your rooms.”

I laughed softly. “Your midnight stroll won’t dissuade her.”

Julas smiled a bit. “I’ll tell her soon enough. This will be… an interesting time for us.” He pulled his arm away from mine, and wrapped it around my shoulders. “I’m glad that you came home.”

#

Muras was still awake, when Julas brought me and Veland back to the room. Neither of them said a word to each other, as I said goodnight to my brother, and took Veland in to sleep. I came back out to find Muras alone, tending the fire, and keeping watch.

I came over to the fire, and warmed my hands. “I still haven’t forgiven you,” I said quietly, “for deceiving me.”

Muras was quiet, listening.

“I’ve let everyone believe there’s no quarrel between us because I need their absolute faith in my judgment of you—but not all is well between us, and I expect you know that.” I had not slept beside him since I allowed him and Todd to join us in the forest. Had hardly allowed him to touch me.

“Is there something more I can do,” Muras murmured, “to set it right?”

“Just know,” I murmured, “if you ever withhold the truth from me again, I won’t protect you from anyone.”

Muras let out a slow breath. “I understand.”

I came to his side, and he looked up at me. I put a hand on his cheek and bent to kiss him. Muras reached out to touch my hip, and I had missed the way he kissed me, soft and careful. I touched my forehead to his. “Soon it will be time to give her a name.”

“You have one chosen already, don’t you?” he murmured.

“Yes.” I shifted, pressed a kiss to his forehead. “There’s a ceremony, to it. I don’t expect it will be particularly grand—we might still be in this room. But all the same, it will be important to have it done.” I smoothed his hair with one hand. “It will be lovely, when it’s long enough to braid.”

“You’ll have to teach me how to do it properly,” he said, and smiled a little.

I sat in his lap, and wrapped my arm around his shoulders. “You should have seen how impressed with me Corvin or Tatton were, that I was what made a traitor out of you.”

Muras wrapped his arms around my waist, and held me close. “I can imagine.”

I touched my forehead to his again. “I’m glad,” I murmured, “that you came after us.”

“So am I,” he said, soft.

I sat with him a while before the fire, until I grew too drowsy and knew I had to go to bed. “Promise me you’ll sleep, soon,” I murmured.

“I will,” he said.

I went into the bedroom and found Veland curled up under Lor’s arm, which was not where I had left him. The baby was sound asleep in her cradle. I shed my dress and pulled on my night shift, shivering in the cool air. I slid under the blankets and wrapped an arm across Veland, my hand coming up to rest on Lor’s shoulder.

Lor stirred, and the arm around Veland shifted so that her hand was on my hip. Quiet, a little groggy, she asked, “Was it a good walk?”

“It was,” I murmured. “I’ll tell you about it in the morning.”

She mumbled something like assent, and I listened as her breath evened, as she went back to sleep. I would grieve terribly, if something happened to Lor. I rubbed her shoulder with my thumb. Veland stirred in his sleep and shoved about, too warm, pushing us apart. I pulled the blankets off of him a bit, and he settled down.

When I dreamed, it was as a wolf, prowling about the gardens. I was only spotted by one maidservant, who ran back into the castle screaming just before dawn.

Julas, I would note, never again questioned my stories about taking on the wolf skin at night.

#

Lor decided to stay until I had met Julas’ wife, to be sure that this would not dramatically change my circumstances within Arborhall. It was not until a full week after I arrived, when we were running out of ideas to keep Veland occupied in our cloistered rooms, that Julas finally brought her to meet me.

She was a relatively plain-faced woman, with a lovely mane of curly brown hair that was bound only by a Kressosi net, beaded with pearls. I knew it to be a bit of an old-fashioned style, but she looked quite regal in it, which I expected was why she wore it. She was taller than I was, only a little shorter than Julas.

“So,” she said, warily, “you’re the sister come back from the dead.”

“I am,” I replied, and I watched her notice that I had not called her ‘my lady.’ As we were of an equal status, and technically close kinfolk, I was not required to, but I had expected she would not think of me as an equal. Like with Corvin and Tatton, I was alone this time. I was enough of a shock, neither I nor Julas had any desire to also show her that I was in the company of Muras Emiran until we had a better feel for her reaction. “You know my name, but I am afraid I have not yet heard yours.”

“Lyrin Sorell,” she said, clearly displeased to be the one in need of introduction. “Everyone believed you were dead.”

I nodded in acknowledgment, and gave her no explanation. That only increased her displeasure.

“It was quite dangerous for her to return here,” Julas said, quiet.

“Indeed,” Lyrin said, not soothed. “So I’m given to wonder why you’ve chosen now to make your return.”

“Are we kin enough that I owe you an explanation?” I asked.

“I should think so,” she said, annoyed. “You’re the sister of my husband.”

“Then I should think we are kin enough that you owe me your protection.” There were certain obligations, among Sarenn families. Obligations which she would know about, by now. Obligations into which I had just trapped her.

Lyrin paused, and lifted her chin, acknowledging what I had done. “Very well,” she said, letting out a breath. “I suppose we have a great deal to talk about.” She sat in an empty chair, folding her hands neatly in that studied, stiff way of Kressosi nobility. Gods, how I had to try not to hate her on principle. Had to put out of my mind that this was the kind of woman who had always sneered at me in Kressos, whenever I was at Muras’ side. I had never met Lyrin Sorell before, and she was my brother’s wife. As good as my sister.

“I suppose I don’t need to know the particulars,” Lyrin said, before I could begin. “I assume you’ve already told Julas how you survived all this time.”

“I have,” I replied, perhaps a little more coolly than was polite.

“Then all I wish to know,” Lyrin said, “is what you mean to do now that you’re here.”

I considered very carefully how to present this to her, and decided that I would have to be blunt, and ask what I really wanted to know. “To whom are you more loyal,” I asked her, “your husband, or your king?”

Her head turned, as if to view me from a different angle. “What a curious question.”

“Is it?”

She was slow in giving me an answer. “I suppose you mean to present to me a challenge to my loyalties.”

“Not until you answer my question.” Until I could be reasonably sure of her place in this, the less she knew about me and my plans, the better.

Lyrin considered her answer carefully. “I have lived on this side of the Lor for nearly six years. The truth is I was given very little choice in marrying a Sarenn lord, as was my father in sending me here. I was chosen to do so by those who work for King Isaec.” She gazed levelly at me. “I have found my place here, it is true. You are, I think, asking more if I am more Sarenn than I am Kressosi.”

I inclined my head, acknowledging the truth of that.

Her mouth gave a dry twist. “I doubt I can ever be Sarenn to the satisfaction of the people. But nor can I ever really return to Kressos, were I to no longer be married to Julas. I was sent here because I was the kind of lady that few would regret I was wasted on a Sarenn lord. Were I divorced or widowed, I would be expected to remain here, and likely marry another Sarenn man. After all, no Kressosi lord of any standing would have a Sarenn’s seconds.”

Julas met my gaze, with an expression that told me he was well aware of this sentiment already.

“All of that to say,” Lyrin murmured, “my interests are now rooted securely in Sarenn soil.”

#

I saw Lor off in the dark of night, after we had eaten supper. She was outfitted for travel in a new coat and boots, and a horse in Kressosi tack.

“I don’t like that you’re traveling alone,” I said.

“I traveled alone all the way from Azira,” she said. “I can make it across the river, Liana, I promise.” She reached down, grasping my hand. “I won’t promise you that I’ll be able to make it back,” she murmured, “but I will do everything in my power to return here and learn your daughter’s name.”

I watched her ride out of the gates and hugged my arms tight across my chest, powerless to stop her. I wondered if this was how her friend Basim Umad had felt when she left Azira, bound toward some plot of revenge that she might never return from.

I had wanted to kiss her, but I didn’t. It would have felt too much like confirming I didn’t expect to see her again.

My mother came to sit with me that night, while I nursed the baby and considered what would happen now. “I should have brought you home after that woman tried to poison you,” she murmured. “Should have insisted upon it.”

“How did my father die?” I asked. My father had not been old. He had never been given to sickliness. As I had known him when I was seventeen, there would have been no reason to think he would die so soon.

My mother grew quiet, watching Veland play with the toys she had brought for him. “He told me it was an accident,” she murmured. “He was out hunting with your brothers and… there were Kressosi soldiers here, at the time. A full camp along the riverbank.” She let out a shaky breath, rubbed at her hands as if they were cold.

“He was shot, just here.” She pressed two fingers to her side. “He made it back home, he dictated his last wishes, and two weeks later, he died.” My mother was still rubbing at her hands. “The healer advised him to take a dose of poison, to end his suffering, but he wouldn’t. If there was any chance that he could survive, he wanted to take it.” She wiped at her eyes. “Because he wanted to be here, when you came home.”

I looked away out the window, into the black night. “When was this?” I asked, quiet.

“Four years ago,” she murmured. “We were all devastated.”

Four years ago I had still been with Kaspar Heita. I had heard no news about Arborhall, because I was too far from the border, and Arborhall too small an estate for any Kressosi to concern themselves with its succession, even if they did business there, as I knew Kaspar did. I had seen one of his river ships in port, when we first rode into the town. If Kaspar had learned anything of the news of my father’s death, it would have been after I left him, and he would not have deemed it important enough to write to me about. What was a lord, to a woman who had told him she was the daughter of a merchant?

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry I didn’t come home sooner.”

My mother reached over and grasped my hand. “You’re home now,” she said, and smiled through her tears. “And I am glad of it.”

When my mother left us for the night, to go light her candle in the window—the one still guiding me home—I put the baby in the cradle and persuaded Veland that it was time to sleep. I sang a lullaby for him, rubbing his back while he settled in, and he was asleep before the song was finished.

I stood a moment in the room that I had been sharing with Lor, and considered the possibility that she might not come back. That this night was the last time I might ever see her alive.

I walked out and across to the door of the next room, tapping softly on the wood. Todd and Muras had agreed to stay out of my mother’s sight, for the time being.

Todd opened the door for me, and let me in. “Are you alright?” he asked, quiet. Muras rose from where he had been sitting to join us, reaching out to put a hand on my arm.

I blinked several times, put a hand over my mouth. Todd put his arms around me and I leaned into his chest, and cried. They both held me while I wept, smothering as much of the sound as I could so as not to wake Veland. I could lose them, I could lose them all, and there would be nothing I could do about it. Lose them like I lost my father, like I lost Róana, when I wasn’t even there to say goodbye.

Muras stroked my hair, his chin tucked against the top of my head. “It’s alright,” he whispered. “It’s alright.”

I cried until I couldn’t anymore, drawing in shaky breaths with my cheek still on Todd’s chest. Muras brushed his knuckles across my cheek, smoothing back a lock of hair that had come loose. His eyes were soft. “She’ll come back,” he murmured. “She doesn’t trust us enough to let anything stop her.”

I smiled a little. “That’s what I said to her.”

Muras kissed my forehead. “You’re welcome to stay,” he said.

I shook my head. “If Veland wakes up alone…” I bit my lip, and shifted to look at Todd. “Come with me?”

“I’m going to sit up watch for a while,” Todd said, touching my cheek. “But I’ll come join you, after.”

“I suppose you both mean to sleep in shifts,” I said, looking at Muras. “You still don’t trust Julas.”

“He doesn’t trust us,” Todd pointed out. “Won’t for a while, I imagine. Maybe never. It’s alright, Lya—it’s more important that he trust you.” Todd let me go, and bent to give me a kiss. “Sleep well. I’ll be in after a while.”

I took Muras’ hand, and led him back to my bed. Veland had sprawled across the mattress, so we had to gently rearrange him, and I curled around Veland, stroking his hair. Muras curled around me, an arm over my side. His chest was warm against my back, and I had missed that solid reassurance. I had missed the crowdedness of sharing a bed with him and Todd.

Muras kissed my neck. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured.

I reached down to catch his hand, lacing my fingers through his. “I’ve missed you, too.”

I slept deeply that night, stirring only a little when Muras’ warmth vanished and was replaced by Todd, who reached across me and Veland both to hold us close, or when Veland tossed fitfully in a dream, before he settled with his face tucked into my nightshirt, sighing in his sleep. I could feel the cord of the ivory wolf pendant when I cradled Veland’s head, my hand on the back of his neck.

My children. My wolf pups. I had learned fear, since I left my father’s house. Fear and hate and rage. I could not protect my children from that entirely.

But I could give them the strength not to be ruled by it.

#

It was Lord Alfer, who we had met in Wetasur, that was first to arrive in answer to Julas’ letters. I watched him arrive from my window, pondered that near a year ago that I had met him.

We had then been in Arborhall some weeks, and though we still did not tell many who we were, we now had the ability to move freely about the castle, if not to leave its walls. Certainly, Veland became much more bearable, now having the ability to run around, and play with other children.

I had met my niece, who shared my name. She was a foul-tempered little creature, and none too pleased to meet me. She would much rather have been left alone with her mother, or with the governess who was clearly suspicious of me.

Lyrin had not much warmed to me, since we were introduced. She was not happy, to learn that I had talked Julas into the idea of rebellion. Even less, when she learned that my companions were traitors. I had made Arborhall perhaps the most dangerous place in Saren.

Lyrin joined me at the window, watching Barwald Alfer arrive. “How do you do it, by the by?”

“How do I do what?” I asked.

“Tolerate having more than one lover.” She took a silk kerchief from her pocket to wipe moisture from the window. “When Julas is busy, he’s fine company, but when he grows bored I can’t get rid of him soon enough. Wants to see everything that I’m doing. I can’t imagine having to contend with two of him. Or three.”

Lord Alfer’s little retinue was drawing within the gates. Julas was down there to meet them, greeting Barwald with the embrace of an old friend.

“I’m seldom lonely,” I acknowledged. Anymore, at least. There had been plenty of loneliness when I had been lying about who I was. When they had been letting me believe they were fooled. “It was—strange, at first,” I said. “I hadn’t known, when Muras brought me into his house, what I was stepping into. Todd thought I was trying to angle my way to marriage.”

“You seem like you’d make a better husband than a wife,” Lyrin said.

“How do you mean?”

She glanced at me, her sly fox eyes that I could imagine my brother loving. “Only that I can’t imagine you content to be second to anyone. It’s no wonder you didn’t thrive in Morhall. It was foolish of anyone to ask you to be a lesser wife. You could have easily become the kind of woman who slaughtered her way to a queenship.”

I scoffed, looking back down to the courtyard below. “That sort of bloody mess is for legends. Though, perhaps my life would have been simpler if my only ambition had been securing the throne for myself and my sons.”

“I suppose I’m glad that’s not the kind of woman you are,” Lyrin murmured. “It would make you infinitely more dangerous to everyone around you.”

“And you?” I asked, looking at her. “What are your ambitions?”

Lyrin’s eyes slid to me. “My ambitions are to live a long life, and secure a good future for my children. That’s all.” She stepped back from the window. “They’ll be in Julas’ chambers, soon, if you should like to make your entrance.”

“I hope you’re not unhappy here,” I said softly, as we walked. “I know you said this was not your choice. I hope Julas is at least as good a husband as he is a brother.”

Lyrin didn’t answer me at first. “I’ve not been any more unhappy than I might be anywhere, I suppose. Resentful that my hand was forced, but that wasn’t Julas’ fault. He only told the king’s messengers that he was willing to take a Kressosi wife, and have me be his only wife.” Her eyes slid to me. “Which I understand you are not especially fond of.”

“Only that it might make things smoother for us, if he had a Sarenn wife as well,” I said. “But I won’t insist upon it, if it will sow discord between you.” It would do me no good, to make an enemy of Lyrin.

“Hm.” She clasped her hands together. “I would have the distinction of being first wife, I suppose. And perhaps having another might mean his boredom is split between the two of us.” She did not sound especially convinced. “I am not fond of the idea that my son might be passed over in favor of another. Your father only had one wife.”

One Sarenn wife, I did not say. “He said often that he knew there was no other woman in the world for him when he met my mother.” My parents, I knew, had been exceptional for how much they loved each other. “He said it wouldn’t be fair to marry any other woman, and then have her be ignored. What does Julas do when he’s bored that troubles you so?”

Lyrin sighed, shrugged her shoulders. “It’s only that I’m accustomed to… a certain amount of independence. I was quite a bit younger than all my other siblings, you see, so I spent most of my childhood alone. I don’t think Julas can bear solitude. He can hardly stand silence.”

That did sound like my brother.

Lyrin went on, “And when I already have our children to tend to…” She waved a hand in the air. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps he needs another wife. Not for his sake, certainly, but for mine.” She smiled a little.  

The baby began to fuss in my arms, likely growing hungry. Lyrin waited as I pulled my shawl over one shoulder, so I could nurse with privacy. “It will be time to name her soon, won’t it?”

“Yes,” I said. “I should like to have the ceremony in the oak grove where I and all my brothers were named.” It was not anything we would need a priest for, though they often attended such rites, if the parents were wealthy and influential enough. My daughter’s naming, I suspected, would be done without one.

Lyrin was quiet a moment. “Julas tells me you left a son in Kressos,” she murmured.

I avoided her eyes. “I did.”

“That must be terribly hard for you.”

I nodded. “It is.” I wrapped my fingers around the locket while my daughter nursed, and let out a breath. “The biggest kindness I gave him was making sure he had a Kressosi name. I know his father’s not a fool. When word does reach him of what—who I am, no one will ever know that I’m the boy’s mother.” Perhaps not even Kip himself. It would be safest for him, that way.

The look Lyrin gave me, I thought might be pity. Perhaps it was only sympathy. “Heaven willing,” she said, “he will be quite safe.” She turned her head at the sound of Julas’ voice, and what I suspected was Lord Alfer’s laugh. “Shall we wait until the girl has finished nursing?” It was common for Kressosi mothers to hide away all evidence of the fact that their children had, in fact, come out of their bodies. I myself had never had much patience for the idea. When my father was away, my mother had used to sit in his lord’s seat and nurse my little brothers while she held audience.

“We’ll be waiting a long time,” I replied, “she has a terrible appetite. Will you help me fasten the shawl?”

Lyrin nodded and pinned it to my shoulder with a brooch, so that I could be assured it wouldn’t fall if my free hand was distracted. That was as much modest courtesy as any Sarenn man could reasonably expect from a woman with a young infant. I lifted my chin, drew in a breath, and went to meet Lord Barwald Alfer again.

When we stepped through the door, he was laughing with Julas over some joke, and both grew quiet when they saw us. “Ah,” Lord Alfer said, inclining his head to me in recognition. “I should have known why you looked so damned familiar.”

I smiled a little. “Thank you for coming, my lord.”

[dayna-scully]

ncis/tiva liveblog...the dregs

season 3  |  season 4   |  season 5  |  season 6  |  season 7  |  season 8  |  season 9  |  season 10

11x01

the real whiskey tango foxtrot is the writing on this show

at the moment, you

😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖

want some company?

yes :-)

murder me???????

“this is good”

that fake typing though

you’ll always be an agent in her heart

is mcgee Abby’s Shannon

after what happened to secnav, how can I stay?

oh gut punch

clonk

I mean, someone’s gonna get a souvenir from Tony’s trip to Israel

a living, breathing, tiny human souvenir…

maybe it’s not the brightest idea, but we’re not coworkers anymore, so

Anthony!!!!!!

he was so happy

I’ll travel for good hummus

I didn’t know that “hummus” was, uh, some kind of new…slang

but all of their stuff is still there?

mid century mob hit

where’s ziva?

thank you dick

he reminds me of the terrible sweets clone bones got after sweets died

which was a terrible decision, btw

who would she trust

TONY

SHE WOULD TRUST TONY

oh tony

11x02

don’t worry tony, we will be okay

can you put the hammer down please

perhaps the him is you

baby ziva hadn’t yet been weaponized by the men in her life

gibbs absolutely knows who Captain Kirk is

why should she have the man that she loves

wow that’s really dark

and cruel

he looks good with some hair on his face

Tim does not

I can’t believe they’ve kept that goatee on him for multiple seasons

tony should have stayed in Israel

baby!!!!

“I meant to do that this morning”

HE DIDNT FORGET HE WAS JUST TOO BUSY GETTING BUSY

confession: I don’t think I’ve ever actually watched this episode

I didn’t watch s11 because at that point we (obvs) knew cote wasn’t staying

yeah dinozzo can sure feel somethin

maybe you could try saying what you’re saying

he already found her, dad

you know how hard that was

you did not have to do any of this

except???? He did????

her “old life” man fuck these writers

finally I found you here, of course

FUCK THESE WRITERS

the center of all this pain is me

I’ll kill whoever wrote that

I hate these people!!!!

this is what Eli made of her

bad adr

tony should have stayed

it’s a start

you don’t have to do this alone

ziva was a fantastic investigator, regardless of what she did for Mossad

she loved being an investigator

this doesn’t make sense

just come home

I remember after truth and consequences came out I sat down with a notebook and my iPod and whittled down a tiva playlist

it was a very intense project

I just want you to come home with me

oh tony

I can change with you

he should have just…stayed

that’s a very bad fake black eye

did he clip Tobias’ ass

you shot me in the ass!

I’m the one got shot in the ass for it

they done did it

I want to make him proud

😖😖😖😖😖 her daddy

alone

that’s horseshit

horseshit!

tony you are so…loved

I wanna be done with this

this hurts more than I remember

I am more angry about all this than I remember

then came tali

pick up the phone!!!

hey ziver

13x24

who made these terrible styling choices

why does tony look like an old man

I bet it’s the same person who thinks that goatee McGee has now was a good idea

I can’t stay here

surely she would have told gibbs

right??

he wouldn’t have told tony

maybe she wouldn’t have told him tony was the father

oh tony

ah, dinozzo

oh are you just fucking figuring that out now gibbs??????

ten years later??????

really???

I hate these writers

I need to know what happened

I’ll breathe when Trent kort is dead

are these writers fucking serious

his ziver???????

fuck

stop with the monologue

something about you running off with her father

friends don’t let friends get hit by mortar fire

you’re Mossad you know everything

like, this whole ass house was leveled to nothing but tali’s room just…survived intact

how convenient!!!!! Almost like ziva had planned this!!!!

tali girl

tali is ziva’s daughter

and your daughter, tony

what a clusterfuck

no doubts

that was not her decision to make

it wasn’t

it was, for once, in character

but it was a shitty decision nonetheless

she knew you wouldn’t be pleased/then she never knew me at all

we cannot lose sight of Anthony

daddy tony

tali’s aba

your mom always packed a go bag

because she was always one step ahead

and she would have been ahead of this

you’re a single dad now, tony

were you and ziva an item the whole time

because lbr of all of them, McGee would absolutely be the last one to figure it out

and he wouldn’t even figure it out, Abby would tell him

I loved her, Tim

ima and aba

ziva must have told her

tony must have always had that with him

I think I’ve decided against watching 16x13

I know the gist of what happens, I’ve seen the screenshots

I don’t read Hebrew, so the fantranslations are all I really need anyways

I don’t really want to watch them write gibbs badly again

how did he get his eyeball back

selective morality

she was my family

I’ve never been anybody’s everything before

abby knew

abby 100% knew

aaand I’m done

I don’t even really know how to summarize all of this.  I don’t understand the thought that will-they-won’t-they is somehow more exciting and fulfilling than consummation of slowburn.  Shows keep doing it over and over again, and sometimes they get it right at the last minute (see: josh and Donna, tww) but most of the time they get it wrong.  Like at least with something like Olivia and Elliot (svu) there was a reason that they couldn’t be together - he was married (though I think they could have and should have handled Chris leaving better than him just vanishing).

Bones kind of fumbled through it all - I don’t think that they would have put b/b together if Em hadn’t gotten pregnant.  Maybe eventually, but I think they had and would have made the same mistakes the ncis writers did.

Clearly that could have been handled better, but like b/b being together was so good?? They were happy, there was still drama, but god it wasn’t a poorly written tease (well, actually, let’s not get into the quality of the writing on Bones)

Cote is such a fantastic actor, and as horrible as MW is, he is (was??) a really good match for her (was if only because bull kind of sucks and I’m not sure if it’s shitty writing or him sucking or him not wanting to be there??).  There was so much emotion and intensity in all of their scenes, romantic or not, it’s absolutely astounding.  I really appreciate them for all the effort that they put into tiva, because they were really the heart of it.

How often do you have couples that are written but not acted? Couples with absolutely no on-screen chemistry, and actors who can’t or won’t put the effort in to make it work.  And they had that!  They could have done so much with it.  But the writers failed. Over and over again, they failed to deliver consistent characterization and complex plots beyond the same old.

Tony was so much more than a frat boy.

Ziva was so much more than a weapon and a perpetual victim.

I was trying to find good fanfic while I was watching (I…didn’t find much), but there was one where the author decided that Ziva, who was alive, had only put the message out that tali was Tony’s because she knew it would get his attention, and that tali was just some random guy’s.  And that really pisses me off.  Ziva (the writers) made some really poor choices in regards to Ziva’s impulse control, but that’s too far - Ziva wouldn’t intentionally hurt tony, and that would be the worst thing she could do.

Ugh.  I’m tired.

basically how I feel about the series:

[femmedplume]

Ziva David is dead? That sounds fake, but okay.

Obviously, Ziva David is still alive. They never found her body, and if anyone could survive something like that it would be Ziva. 

Maybe the force of the explosion knocked her out, caused her some head trauma and loss of memory. Maybe she was in a hospital as a Jane Doe or whatever for a bit.

But Tony’s first thought was to take their daughter back to Tel-Aviv to find some answers. The first thing he’s going to do is check area hospitals to see if maybe she’s there because he knows from head trauma and memory loss, and because he’s not giving up on his girl until he’s absolutely sure. 

And he’d find her.

And maybe she wouldn’t remember him at first, her big brown eyes roving over his face without recognition. The hospital, of course, wouldn’t want to release their patient to this tall American. But somehow, making use of that winning DiNozzo charm, he convinces her that she can trust him and the hospital that he can take her home. 

She’s hesitant, but he’s determined. He walks her back through the important places in her life, and slowly, Ziva starts to remember who she is. When she’s ready, he re-introduces her to Tali, and seeing her little girl in Tony’s arms is the trigger; everything comes racing back.

She knows who she is. 

She knows her daughter.

She knows the love of her life.

She knows that for some reason, G-d has chosen to give her a chance to live the life of peace she has always craved. 

They go to Paris, get a small cottage outside the city. For a while, they just float; living off of Tony’s savings and the diamond pipeline Ziva -- of course -- had set up back in her Mossad days. Every morning, when Tony wakes with Ziva in his arms, she asks him what they should do today. 

“I don’t know, David,” he always murmurs. “Seems like a beautiful day for a wedding.” Rain or shine, he says it, because any day would be a beautiful day to marry her.

Every morning, she smiles and caresses his face, then gets up to make them all breakfast. She doesn’t say yes, but she doesn’t say no, either.  

He never presses her more than that -- but every morning she asks, and every morning, he gives the same answer. 

Their days are filled with domestic chores and the never-ending sunshine that is their little Tali. Tony is a surprisingly good cook, and has a flair for decorating. Ziva discovers a green thumb, and builds a little garden on the land outside their kitchen window, with Tali her faithful assistant. Tali likes collecting bugs and lizards and scaring her Aba with them, because it makes her Ima laugh. 

Tali thinks Ima is the bravest, prettiest woman in the whole wide world. Aba agrees. Every night at bedtime, Tony tells Tali stories about his adventures with Ziva, though he edits them for content and age-appropriateness. Tali’s favorites are the ones where Ima defeats the bad guys.

Tony calls his dad back in the States and has him pack up and mail Tony’s entire film collection to France. He sets up a projector in their tiny living room and begins the vitally important task of Tali’s cinematic education.

“Nothing violent,” Ziva warns. Tony promises to start with Disney and classic Hollywood Musicals. 

Tony teaches Tali English. Ziva teaches her Hebrew, French, Spanish, Russian, Italian....

On the weekends they head into Paris. Sometimes they sight-see, visit museums and libraries; sometimes they people-watch. Ziva insists they visit the little cafe where she and Tony took that picture on the moped all those years ago. Tony’s favorite pastime is shopping, watching his girls play dress up while he snaps photos and gives Ziva subtly flirtatious compliments that, thankfully, are still going over Tali’s curly little head. 

“Enjoy it for now, Tony,” Ziva chuckles. “Pretty soon her English is going to be good enough to understand how embarrassing her father is in public.”

“Hey, I am just setting a good example for our daughter,” Tony protests innocently. “Tali-gindeleh, never go for any boy who doesn’t adore you as much as I adore your Ima, y’got me?”

“I don’t like boys,” Tali sticks out her tongue.

Ziva laughs. “That’s my girl.”

Eventually, Tony gets a bit of an itch; he’s been on the go for too many years to feel completely fulfilled without some kind of work. He hesitates bringing it up, since the last thing he wants to do is burst the idyllic bubble they’re in. When he finally does, Ziva just laughs and says she’s surprised he’s lasted this long. 

Relieved to have her blessing, Tony uses the last of his savings to buy and restore the old, run-down cinema house in their village. To save money, he applies “The Tao of Gibbs” to restore the old place.  Maybe he’s not the best woodworker, but he’s competent enough and knows to listen to Ziva when she insists they call in an actual professional to finish any given project. 

The day they re-open the cinema-house is the happiest Ziva’s ever seen him.

Most days, Tony runs the cinema-house, but he does hire some local kids to sell tickets and popcorn so he doesn’t have to be there every night. On Tuesdays, they show classic films, complete with post-showing discussions with the audience which vastly improve Tony’s French.

When Tali turns five, they enroll her in the local school. Faced with a sudden influx of free time, Ziva starts looking into teaching. Does she want to teach martial arts at the small athletic studio in the next village? Or perhaps become a language tutor for university students? Tony suggests she start a ninja-school for tots; Ziva smacks him playfully. 

They do, of course, tell Gibbs and the rest of their NCIS family that Ziva’s been found. Eventually. Neither of them is surprised when, exactly 72 hours later, McGee, Abby, Gibbs, Ducky, Palmer, and Vance show up at their front door for a long-overdue family reunion. And when their whole family is gathered for lunch around a long table out on the patio by Ziva’s garden, Tony raises a glass of excellent wine.

“Well, sweet cheeks,” he grins at Ziva, “what should we toast to?”

She gives him that little, sly smile that has always made his heart race. “I think, beshert,” covering his hand with hers, “we should toast to a beautiful day for a wedding.”

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Your Words On My Skin - Chapter 3

Bonjour, mes chers! Sorry that this chapter is a little bit later than I would have liked, but Anime Midwest really set me back - it was very fun, though! A very long chapter, as per usual, so I hope you enjoy!

AO3 FFN

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Summary: Danny Fenton was born with writing on his arms that proved he had a soulmate out there for him that was much, much older than his parents were comfortable with. The result was his skin being covered as much as possible and Danny warned that he shouldn’t look at the words or write any back. Danny has always been a little bit curious as to who his soulmate was, but he never thought on how curious his soulmate was about him.

<<First Chapter>><<Last Chapter>><<Next Chapter>>

Chapter Three

::

“Doesn’t believe in technology- What kind of person doesn’t believe in technology?!” That was- That was such a bad lie that Danny bet his dad could have seen through it- And his dad believed every lie everyone told him!

“Are we sure this guy is your soulmate and there isn’t some kind of mix-up?” Tucker asked, looking very serious about the matter. Danny probably would have laughed if he wasn’t so keyed up and worried. “Come on, Danny, maybe he’s just shy.”

“When you’re shy you say that you lost your password, or something. You don’t suddenly blurt out that you don’t believe in technology.” Yeah- Yeah! See! Sam got it! If Danny’s soulmate was going to lie, then he could have at least made it a believable lie.

“I should pry. I should pry, right? No- No, that’s a bad idea. Prying is a bad idea.” He wanted to pry and dig his way to the right answer, but what if he ended up being insensitive? Or rude? Danny didn’t want to drive his soulmate away when he just got one!

“You can always try asking for an address and mailing him?” Yeah, but… That’d be an even slower way of communication than writing across their skin. “You really can’t do much without phones or an email, can you?”

“Maybe he doesn’t want you to find a picture of him and realize he’s ugly, or something.” Tucker gave the worst points- Except… Well. Danny’s parents had kept him from looking at his skin for a reason. Just how old was his soulmate?

“Danny.” Glancing to Sam, Danny paled at the look he was being given. “You know what you have to do-”

“No. No, no, no, I can so totally handle this on my own. I mean- I mean, I don’t need her help.” There was no way Danny would sink that low as to go to her for relationship advice. He’d rather ask Dash for help.

“Dude, I mean… I know she’s kind of low on relationships herself, but I mean, when hasn’t she made you feel better after you talk out a problem with her?”

“That’s not the point! She’d never let me live it down is the problem!” Seeing the dual looks, Danny groaned and whined as pathetically as he could. “Guys, please. Please, please, please don’t make me go to my sister for love advice.”

“Come on, man, Jazz wouldn’t torment you that badly.” Yeah, Tucker said that now, but it was Jazz. She would bring this up in the pettiest fight and then crush his will to win beneath sensible, kitten-heeled shoes. “You’re being dramatic in your head again, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” He would have asked his soulmate for advice, of course, but his soulmate didn’t believe in technology. “Why would he lie about this, anyways? I mean, yeah, okay, maybe he doesn’t want me to find out who he is, but how could I do that from a phone number?”

“He’s trying to keep you from guessing where he lives? I mean, area codes, yeah?” Damn, that was a good point, but it wasn’t like that would narrow it down enough to have any real effect.

“Just go to Jazz and get her advice on what to do,” Tucker sighed, throwing a pillow at him. Danny let it phrase through him out of spite, pleased when Tucker frowned. “You couldn’t even throw it back.”

“Never doubt my pettiness, and… Yeah. At least she’ll give me good advice before destroying my will to live.” Okay, yes, the flat looks he got were deserved this time, but his point remained. “But not believing in technology-”

“Go to Jazz!” Wisely choosing to change into his ghost form when both of his friends yelled at him at the same time in the same tone, Danny fled out of Tucker’s room and headed straight for his own house.

“‘S still stupid.” He could have just told Danny that he wasn’t comfortable enough yet to give him a phone number. Yeah, okay, Danny would have felt a bit hurt and pouted about it, but at least he would have understood. He was just- He was sick of being lied to about things.

God. He was such a hypocrite. Shaking his thoughts off and taking a deep breath, Danny phased into his room before changing back and heading into the hall, staring at the door that led to his own personal hell- Right, okay, maybe his friends had a point about him being dramatic.

“Hey, Jazz?” Knocking on the door, Danny raised his voice a little. “Can I talk to you for a bit?” A bout of silence and oh, god, he was going to have to say it, wasn’t he? “I need advice-”

“And you came to me?” Jesus Christ did she teleport across her room to open the door that quick? Danny didn’t even get to ask before Jazz was pulling him in, shoving him to sit down on the bed, and then taking a seat in her computer chair. “I want you to know-”

“Nope, no, don’t- No. If you’re about to say your speech about how you’re ‘thankful I came to you’ and ‘this is a safe space’ then I will walk out that door.” Crossing his arms, Danny waited, raising an eyebrow when Jazz was silent for a long few moments before shutting her mouth and looking away. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Yet you still came to me for advice.” Okay, Danny wouldn’t fault her for being a little happy. He had been kind of busy with everything, lately. Jeez, he needed to spend more time with her. “So, what-”

“I have a soulmate, his name is Andrew, he loves to write, he’s rude, he’s right-handed, he draws frowny faces when I guess something he didn’t want me to know and I’m right, and he just told me he didn’t believe in technology when I asked for a phone number or email address.”

There was a long silence and Danny could almost see the three dots above Jazz’s head. In her defense, he supposed he had kind of unloaded a lot of information in that one sentence. When the silence went on for what felt like too long, Danny cleared his throat. “Uh, Jazz? You okay?”

“He doesn’t believe in technology.” Oh, good, she had focused on the important part of the conversation. That was good. “Okay- Okay. And how does that make you feel-”

“I need big sister Jazz, not therapist Jasmine.” Danny could almost see Jazz flip personalities as she relaxed into her seat and crossed her arms.

“Your soulmate is an idiot, isn’t he?” Ah, that was much better. “I mean- I mean no offense, but that’s just a really bad lie- I think even Dad would know that was a lie.”

“See! That’s what I thought, too!” Danny slumped back to lay on the bed, sighing as he stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know. Maybe he just realized I’m an annoying soulmate and didn’t want to deal with me anymore than necessary.”

“Your self-esteem is terrible. Remind me to throw a pillow at you, later.” Fair enough. “Okay, it was a lie, but maybe he was lying with good intentions? There could be a lot of reasons why he doesn’t want to have too much contact with you, right- Wait.”

“Wait?” Danny sat up, blinking as Jazz narrowed her eyes and oh, boy, that was a look. It was a mix of sister and therapist rolled into one.

“Andrew.” Yeah? “He.” Ye- Oh. Right. “I know you hate this line, but this really is a safe space, and if you need to talk-”

“Jazz.” Waiting until she looked at him, Danny shook his head. “After everything, that doesn’t even make the top ten.” Danny liking guys really wasn’t that big of a shock after everything else in his life - plus, well… He had kind of figured that out on his own last year, anyways. “Lying for a good reason?”

“Right- Right! Sorry, but, you never know. Maybe he’s just trying to protect you.” Protect him, huh? Mm…

“Maybe.”

::

“I don’t believe in technology.” Andrew was angrily pacing around one of his offices, not even sure which one he was in and not really caring because he had more important matters to worry about at that moment, like the fact that he was a writer and he couldn’t even lie well. “I told him that I don’t believe in technology.”

“Hundreds of lines, lies, and excuses, and you go for that one?” Randy looked to be holding back cackles as he watched Andrew pace, shoulders shaking with his suppressed laughter. Andrew kind of wanted to throw a knife at him. “Andy-”

“I know! It was bad, and stupid, and now he’s just going to be suspicious, but I don’t- I don’t exactly have a phone or cell service here, Randall!” He didn’t even have internet besides when he went to the human world.

“Actually, I hear Technus is attempting to get phones to work in the Ghost Zone. He’s been noticing that radio signals from Amity Park slip in where there’s a stable ghost portal always open.”

“Really?” That… That didn’t really sound like science, but, well. They were all ghosts. Science rather went out the window once one died. “Any idea on when he’ll get that working?”

“Long enough that you need to figure out how to tell your soulmate that you lied.” Hmph. Figured. God, this was awful. “Just tell him you’re shy and don’t want to talk, yet. What’s so bad-”

“Because if he gets any closer then he might find out I’m a ghost!” That’s what Andrew was worried about. He could handle Danny knowing all about his bad habits and quirks and odd ways, but he couldn’t… He could not let Danny find out that he was a ghost. “Randy, could you imagine what that would do to a person?”

“Well… You’re still alive in a way, yeah? I’m sure he’d understand once you explained it to him.” Randy looked about as confident in that idea as Andrew felt. “Look, I know this is hard, but-”

“Randy, imagine if you had a soulmate-” Andrew paused and swallowed, feeling a little shame at the way he chose to word that before Randy gave him an understanding smile, and, right. “Imagine if you were alive and you had a soulmate who was dead. What would you do?”

“I…” Randy trailed off, tilting his head back and going silent. Andrew was thankful that he was giving it some honest consideration instead of joking around. “I suppose I might think about killing myself to be with them.”

“I want to talk to my soulmate- I want to talk to Danny and see him and learn about him, but I don’t- I don’t want to know that it was my fault if something happened.”

“Andy, it wouldn’t-” Randy cut himself off, sighing in the face of Andrew’s glare. “That won’t happen.”

“No, it won’t. I need-” A tumbled idea of a character standing on the edge of a cliff with steel in his words and blood on his hands and it’s not going to happen, and it was such a weak lie that no one believed it except he would make them believe it and no, it won’t-

Andrew shot towards Randy and shoved him around to get to his pockets, dragging out a pen and writing the idea down on his arm as quick as possible. Once he was done and satisfied that he would remember it, he looked back to Randy and… “What do I need?”

Randy snorted and choked on a laugh, taking his pen back as he shook his head. “You, frérot, never change.”

“Yes, yes, but- Ah, yes, right. I need an excuse. A better one, preferably. Perhaps I can say I broke my phone in an embarrassing manner and I didn’t want him to find out about it.”

“And then he’ll ask for an email address.” Damn. Andrew hated when Randy had a good point. “Have you ever considered maybe, just maybe, telling him the truth?”

Staring at his brother for a few seconds, Andrew groaned as he collapsed onto the couch Randy was sitting on, throwing himself over the man’s lap and whining as loudly and annoyingly as possible. “That’s the worst idea.”

Randy, for his part, gently ruffled Andrew’s hair instead of shoving him to the floor and oh, dear, he must be bad off if Randy was being careful with him. Sighing and feeling as if all hope was leaving him, Andrew looked to where he had written his idea down, pausing as he saw a group of stars and a little note.

‘This should be right after someone important gets seriously hurt not the mentor though thats too obvious make it either the love interest the best friend or the little sibling and then have them die either just as the day is saved or right when the hero is about to fail.’

Staring, blinking, and having a thought of an impressive battle across an airship with broken glass cracking underneath feet- Andrew groaned, dropping his arm over his eyes. “Fuck.” He was pretty sure he was already in fucking love with this kid.

He felt Randy move his arm around and then heard a quiet noise. “Damn. He’s perfect for you, isn’t he?” He could see it in his head so clearly. The precocious little brother who was built up to take the hero’s place when he failed only to push the mentor out of the way and take the hit meant for him and then life finally leaving and the glass was cracking more and more and it was an eternity down to the ground below and there was only one more chance and the world may not be safe for him anymore, but he would make it safe for everyone else-

Andrew felt more than saw the pen dangled in front of him before he was grabbing it and flying over to his desk in a flash, digging for a notebook and writing down everything he could remember as quickly as possible.

“So, what are you going to do about your little soulmate problem?” Fuck. Glancing up from his notes, Andrew looked to his brother and groaned. “You have nothing.”

“I have nothing.” He didn’t want to hurt Danny, but that was all he would ever do if he kept lying and distancing himself, and, really. Fifteen years was enough distance. If Andrew could help it, then Danny would never know what it was to feel decades of loneliness. “I don’t want to hurt him, Randy.”

“You will.” Flinching at that, Andrew shot his gaze to Randy and saw nothing but kindness in his eyes. “You love him already, Andy, even I can see that. You love him, so you’ll end up hurting him.”

“That’s… That’s very depressing.” Andrew swallowed, clutching his notebook closely. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

“I know, but you will, and that’s okay. We always hurt the people we love, yeah? ‘S okay, though, as long as we can fix it.”

Fix it. Right. He could fix this. He could find a way to fix this and, if he was lucky, he could find a way to fix the fifteen years of silence between them. “I know this might sound bad, but I’m very thankful you died.”

That had Randy giving a loud, bright laugh, Andrew relaxing at the sound as he looked back to his arm where Danny was already throwing more ideas out. He was such a bright, eager little thing and Andrew loved him. Oh, he could tell right now that Danny was going to push him to his limits and annoy him to hell and back, but he loved him. He was going to love him. This was the one he would fall in love with.

“Oh, Danny.” He would find a way to make this work. No matter what happened or what truths would end up coming out, Andrew would find a way to make them work.

He always had been partial to a happily ever after.

::

“A-hem.” Wincing at Jazz’s not-so-subtle cough, Danny hesitantly glanced up from where he was writing on his arm and gave a weak grin. “Oh, you have it bad, don’t you?”

“So bad,” Danny groaned, collapsing back against the bed once more. “I see him write something on his arm, and then I have to comment, and then he has to comment, and soon enough I’m laughing and can’t remember why I’m laughing so much.”

“It’s worse than I thought.” Even through the dramatics, Danny could tell Jazz was both happy for him and very worried. Honestly, at this point that might as well be her normal state of being. “We’re in for a long conversation, aren’t we?”

“Probably. And I mean, yeah, okay, I get the whole- The whole ‘trying to protect me’ thing, especially after what Mom and Dad told me, but… It’s weird.” No matter how much they talked, Andrew never sounded… He never sounded old. He sounded like Jazz’s age, maybe a bit older, but not much more than that.

“What’s weird?” Jazz scooted her chair over, raising an eyebrow down at Danny’s arms. “Do you two just write wherever there’s space?” Mm. “Danny.”

“Maybe- Unimportant. Hey, okay, so, uh, it’s weird because- He should be like forty or something, right? According to you guys? He doesn’t- He never sounds it. I mean, he acts and talks like your age.”

“That doesn’t have to mean anything.” Ah, so they were doing Devil’s advocate, today. Great. Danny loved a good debate. “There could be a multitude of reasons. Maybe he’s trying to seem closer to you, perhaps he’s trying to hide his real age, and maybe that’s just how he naturally is. Personality doesn’t change very much once we hit a certain age.”

Okay. He loved a good debate when it wasn’t with Jazz. Jesus, she knew how to make the Devil himself give up. “I don’t think that’s it- At least, not the first two. I mean, if it was, he would be trying to find ways to get closer to me, wouldn’t he? Wanting to meet up and all that? Right now, it’s more like he’s trying to distance us.”

“Hm.” Jazz leaned back, looking to be thinking the problem over. As she did so, Danny saw more words were appearing on his skin.

‘I believe I might end up stabbing my brother today. Oh, yes, I love him, and he is very helpful sometimes, but he’s also destroying my kitchen. He has to die.’ It took everything Danny had to not burst out laughing.

‘If it helps my sister is helping me with a problem and shes just making little humming noises as she thinks it all over and its getting annoying but she never REALISES that the noises are annoying so now i’m stuck here suffering’

‘Truly we suffer as the younger’ The words stopped, Danny raising an eyebrow and waiting. Andrew never did stop writing for long. ‘He touched the chocolate chips. He dies now.’ That was all it took to have Danny bursting into laughter and oh, god, Andrew’s brother sounded worse than Jazz!

“Am I truly that boring?” Ah, shit. “You’re smitten with him, aren’t you?” Alright, yes, okay, Danny was maybe just a little bit smitten with him.

“You know, I’m pretty sure I came in here for advice on the whole ‘not believing in technology’ thing of his.” Which, yeah, Danny was still kind of frustrated by that, but Andrew wasn’t shutting him out or anything, so that was good. “How do I pry into someone’s life without them knowing I’m prying? I mean, that’s something psychologists have to know, right?”

“Technically…” Jazz made a face, Danny doing his best to hold in a laugh. “I wouldn’t say pry but establish some open communication with him. Let him know that you understand he may not want to take that next step, but you’re here to talk about why he doesn’t if he wants to.” That…

“Holy shit.” Danny stared at Jazz, slowly giving a shake of his head. “Jazz, that’s- That’s actually good advice.” And it made sense! “You might actually be a good therapist or whatever one day!”

“Thanks,” Jazz snorted, moving to sit on the bed beside him and oh, no. Here came the- Yeah. Yep. He was being hugged. “I’m… I’m worried about this, Danny, but I trust you and I trust your judgement. If he’s good for you, then I’m happy.”

“You’re so sappy.” Danny squirmed around to hug her back, grip tight on her. “Love you, Jazz. If you tell anyone else that I ever said that, though, I’ll deny it.”

“Yes, God forbid that someone thinks you love your sister,” Jazz laughed, hugging him a touch tighter for a second before letting him go. “So, what are you going to do next?”

“Establish open communication?” Waiting until Jazz looked fully proud, Danny grinned. “Then I’m going to see how long it takes for him to realize I’m flirting with him.” Ah, sister glares. All was- Ow. “Why?!”

“I told you that I was going to hit you with a pillow.” Yeah, but- But he didn’t think she would actually do it. “Why are you so mean to me?” Oh, there was new writing.

‘He’s begun making brownies, so he’s been spared for the current moment.’ Okay, Danny would calm down at the promise of brownies, too, though. ‘Perhaps I can shove his head in the bowl if he’s not paying attention.’

‘Dont risk it instead get a bit of mix like you want to taste it and then slam it on his head’ Danny watched as a delighted looking smiley face and a few exclamations appeared next to his words and oh, god, that was so cute.

“As I said. Smitten.” Yeah, well, there was nothing wrong with being smitten with his soulmate. “I’m happy for you, Danny. Really.”

“I just… Fifteen years, you know?” Andrew had been alone with the idea that he didn’t have a soulmate for fifteen years. “There’s a lot to make up for.”

“Yeah.” Jazz brought him back into a hug, ruffling his hair. “I have faith that things will work out. Maybe not the way we expect, but… Things have a habit of working out for us Fentons, right?”

Wasn’t that the truth. It would be okay, though. Even if there was something weird about his soulmate, Andrew was still amazing. Besides, it could still just be the child genius kind of thing? That wouldn’t explain why Andrew never told him his age, though. There was… There was a lot of mystery in this, but, well. Danny probably had his soulmate beaten in the bad luck category considering his own ‘life.’

‘Success! I’m hiding as far away as possible, but Randy has successfully been brought down a few pegs.’ Plus, how bad could someone be if they were able to shove brownie batter on top of their brother’s head?

‘Good but maybe stay out of sight until the brownies are actually done’ Danny paused, drawing a little heart after his words and biting his lip. He didn’t realize he had held his breath until four others were drawn around it, and, god, okay, that was- That was just- He was so in over his head.

“You know,” Jazz grinned. “There’s a reason they call it falling in love.” Snorting, Danny capped his pen and stood up with a stretch, snagging the pillow he had been hit with and tossing it in Jazz’s face.

“Yeah, but this isn’t me falling in love.” That had Jazz pausing and looking up at him in worry, Danny laughing at the look. It wasn’t… He wasn’t falling in love. “This is me walking straight into it.”

Andrew was going to be the one he was in love with for the rest of his life, and Danny couldn’t be happier for it.

::

Tapping his pen against the pages of the notebook he was currently using, Andrew looked between the half-completed sentence he had been writing and the words that were scribbled out across his skin. He had been writing down Danny’s commentary on his ideas to save as notes for his next rough draft, but he had stopped once a thought hit him- Not ‘a’ thought, really, but the thought.

He still hadn’t asked why Danny had kept silent for so long. It would be understandable if Danny was in elementary or middle school, although thank god he wasn’t, but he had to be in high school or even college, by now. He still didn’t know which one, but a part of him knew he was too afraid to find out the answer. God, he still didn’t even know Danny’s age - not that Andrew was much better.

While Andrew would talk to Danny as long and often as possible, he had been careful to not reveal anything specific, especially anything that could link back to who he really was and just how old he really was. Danny may not have mentioned his age, yet, but that was probably because he hadn’t thought to. Andrew was just hiding out of fear as he had always done.

“He should have mentioned something by now, shouldn’t he have?” Since Randy was asleep in a corner somewhere, it was Vidya to answer him, brushing against his thoughts softly and warmly. “It’s- He hasn’t even hinted at why he kept silent for so long.”

Perhaps he was scared? Depending on how long he had been alive, Andrew’s words had been on him for a very long time.

“Fear doesn’t explain why he would start writing now and then never mention it. Yes, alright, he started writing because he was out of paper, but there has to be more to it than that.” Right?

Or maybe not. Their circumstances were odd, yes, but they were finally together. Shouldn’t they be happy with that?

“We’re not quite yet together, though.” Andrew sighed, floating out of his chair and flying over to collapse on a couch. A blanket fell over him and Andrew knew Vidya would have wrapped him up in it if she could. “There’s- There’s so much to this that I can’t even begin to guess.”

Perhaps he should speak with his mate about all of this? He was one half of their pairing, after all. Without speaking to him, an answer would never be found.

“I know,” Andrew groaned, half-glaring up at the ceiling as Vidya played along in his head a tune that he had heard Randy play thousands of times. “You’re not cute.”

Talk to him more. Find out more of the little things. You don’t find out who a person is by asking of them, but you find out by talking to them. Put himself in his mate’s life. That much alone would allow him to begin to find his answers.

“What if he doesn’t want me in his life.” Danny always responded to him, yes, but there were times it felt like… It almost felt like Danny was trying to keep them at a distance. No… Maybe that was just Andrew who was keeping them at a distance and was too afraid to get any closer to him. “There should have been a response by now. He should have written something about it by now.”

Not necessarily. They had written only a few words to each other and then they had meshed as if they had known each other for lifetimes. Maybe they had. Either way, why speak of the past when the present was being lived?

“You’re supposed to agree with me,” Andrew grumbled, sitting up and letting the blanket drape around his shoulders. “I don’t like it. I need- I- Maybe I don’t need to know, but don’t I at least deserve to know?” Because… Because he had spent so long alone.

Decades was a long time to be alone… But he had never been truly alone, had he? He may have deserved to know why his mate was silent, but would he truly risk everything to get that answer?

“Yes. Yes, I would.” Because what if Danny went silent, again? Andrew needed to know how to avoid that.

Looking down at his arms and seeing just how much free skin was left, which wasn’t much, Andrew huffed and tucked his blanket around him before heading off towards the kitchen. He usually didn’t bother to wash his arms off until he showered, but this was… This was too important a question to risk it being unseen.

“I’ll find a way to tell him who and what I am eventually, but this seems like the lesser evil for the moment.” Getting to the kitchen, Andrew flew over to the sink and turned the water on, lathering soap on his arms as much as possible.

It may be the lesser evil, but it was still an evil. Did Danny really deserve to be pushed for this information when he seemed just as lost in all of this as Andrew? 

“Do I deserve to be pushed?” There were still questions from Danny on his arms where he had been trying to find out more information. Andrew didn’t dare answer any of them, only turning them around and distracting Danny before he could notice he had never truly answered. “I need- I need to know.”

Perhaps. There would be no going back once his mate saw that message, however. He would have to wait and perhaps an answer would never truly come.

“I know, but I deserve to have at least one truth told.” Scrubbing at his arms a bit more viciously, Andrew sucked in an unsteady breath. “I won’t push if he doesn’t answer, but, Vidya, I have to try.”

Yes. He did. That was just who he was, it seemed. He was someone who could not leave a mystery unsolved and, while that might end up being his end, she would stand by him through it all.

“What did I ever do to deserve you as a lair, Vidya?” Andrew rather had the feeling that Vidya would be smirking if she could. She certainly got close to it with the cheeky tune she was playing. Shaking his head, Andrew shook his arms off before patting them down with a towel, most of his writing faded or vanished completely.

Grabbing his pen, Andrew carefully uncapped it before chewing on his lip, and, right. He needed to find the best way to phrase this so Danny knew he wasn’t angry or blaming him for anything. Then again, overthinking it could just lead to even more problems, which was something Andrew wanted no part in, honestly.

Okay. Okay, okay. Writing. Right. Except now all the words in his head seemed to have vanished and Andrew had no idea how to ask the questions he wanted and-

Why not just ask it? It was a question. There was no need to upset himself by overthinking such a thing. He just had to breathe, calm himself down, and ask. If nothing else, his mate would tell him that he wasn’t comfortable enough to answer. Yet.

“You’re right.” Danny had been the one to write to him, after all, that it was okay if Andrew was scared to give him a number or address. The words had been sweet, but Andrew had been wracked with guilt for hours. Still. The point was the same. Danny would understand, and Andrew would understand if Danny didn’t want to talk. “Right. Just ask him.”

As he wrote across his left arm, the words felt… They felt heavy. Andrew couldn’t bring himself to be very surprised by that fact, though. He had spent so long wondering over this very question and had spent years knowing that he would never get an answer, but now… Now he had someone who knew the answer to that question. Hopefully Andrew would get an answer, but if he didn’t, well… At least he had tried.

“Why don’t we make some cookies, Vidya, and surprise Randy with them for tomorrow?” A happy little tune played through his head as Andrew collected the ingredients, mind still on the question he had asked.

‘Why did you never write back?’ Hopefully, when next he looked, there would be an answer.

[next-lvl]

OCtober 09

Today’s OCtober is all about Suto, trying to answer these questions:

Thank you so much for asking! I haven’t been talking about my OCs much ever since I stopped rp’ing, so (it feels like) my audience kinda lost its interest too. Now my heart is melting because there are people like you. <3

Must admit, I have a few story posts lying around, but they’re hella old and embarrassing.. >///A///< My writing and english weren’t good enough, now ima try to briefly tell that story. Though you still can dig them out if you’re dedicated enough. x’D

Basically, Suto’s an orphan, that’s a super clichee main anime hero tragedy level, ikr?! You can hit me with a stick. 8′D

0~8 years old: was a regular Good Kid, cared about and stuff, had eniripsa parents, liked books and pastry like a true Amaknian. His parents started bounty hunting for a living when Suto grew a little, they used to leave him alone for a couple days but he was okay with that, he liked playing an independent grown up.

8 years: that’s when The Tragedy kicks in. Bounty hunting shushus and other dangerous things finally has proved being too dangerous. Suto waited for weeks, but his parents never came back.

Instead, an unknown lady has come for him and introduced herself: Karigurashi. She was (a guildie :9) there with Suto’s parents when they barely held against the demons. They didn’t make it, she fleed. She was barely hiding the shock, her arm broken, but her voice sounded confident and kind. Suto was told that his parents are on the way back, that they can wait together at Kari’s place, it’s more fun together after all. (it was basically an adoption with a sweet lie, Kari decided it’s best for him)

At Kari’s home, he was greeted by.. This. It’s her son, oh. Aho’s a bit older than Suto. These three stayed together for a few days, then weeks, months. Suto started realizing that his parents won’t come back. He never asked Kari, but sometimes he saw her secretly crying. (actually she THOUGHT she lost Aho’s iop father in that battle too, which wasn’t true.. He’s alive and is an asshole, but that’s another story~)

Gradually Suto’s been getting fucked up, building walls around himself, rejecting his new “family” and reality overall. The depression made him lose weight, he sat in a corner most of the time. Kari was desperate, her efforts of saving him were borderline failing. Aho wasn’t too smart or good at supporting, but one day he approached Suto, saying: “you’re not alone”.

..It actually worked.

The two boys comforted each other, cried a lot, then cried together with Kari. Let it all out. Semi-knowingly, Aho built the bridge between Suto and Kari, and became Suto’s best friend and brother.

8~13 years old: recovery went rather well, they built bonds and became a real family, happy once again. Aho and Suto had a blast together, playing and looking for adventures all the time. Iopish life. \o/ Suto abandoned his medicine learning at that time, all his books and even the will to learn were left at the old house, which he never dared to visit again.

14 years old: he meets Lust. That was a funny rollercoaster ending up as a relationship. You can hit me with a stick once again, but it just happened. <w<;;;;; Of course too early, but I don’t wanna retcon things.

14~18 years old: here’s an illustrated timeline/summary of how things went later on. Basically, both Suto and Aho found loved ones and kinda lost each other. Not for real, they still hang out, but Suto feels like that currently. He’s happy with Lust and Shiki. Can’t just break into Aho’s house and steal him from Rika, that’s silly. But he misses Aho being his everything, his anchor, stabilizer. His poly-relationship is often bumpy and dramatic, it messes with Suto’s unstable mind. Like.. Things are okay on the facade, but.. But.

That would be a full reply on why Suto looks so dark sometimes. Hope you’re still reading. 8′D Since I also wanted to address the other question, why his wings are kinda small.. I actually spoke and doodled about it one time. Nothing too deep, he just happens to be a petite person, a shortie *kicked in the stomach* hhhHHHH also he doesn’t  give much credit to the flights. Sometimes even forgets that he can fly, silly. He’s not a dedicated eniripsa follower (reasons explained above), so his class appearance isn’t too manifest.

He’s still a precious bun and a tsundere. 8′D *kicked in the knee* owwwwww-

[universehall]

I saw Jurassic World before I started this blog, so I can’t refer back to it — but, suffice it to say, it was a bit of a let-down. So, I went into this movie with pretty low expectations… And I was still kind of let down. So here’s my extremely long, rambling examination of Jurassic World…

Plot: They have to go back to Jurassic World to save the dinosaurs!… except that’s not really it, and by the end, they are in a scary haunted house being chased by dinosaurs.

In Jurassic World, my issue with the movie was that while there was plenty of dinosaurs-eating-people action, the human plots were kind of bad, and I found the “the bad guys are evil, military-types who want to weaponize dinosaurs” subplot to be unbearably cliched and insipid.

Well, that minor subplot from the first movie becomes the MAIN PLOT for this movie. So, have fun with that.

NEW CHARACTERS

The new characters in the new movie are terrible (and it is patently the way they are written; not the actors’ fault). We have two new sidekicks for the main characters — Franklin (he’s scared of things! It’s “funny”!) and Dr. Ima Strongwoman.

Franklin second to left, and Ima far right.

She abrasively tells us in the first few moments of the movie that she’s a paleo-veterinarian in spite of never having seen a dinosaur (which I found immediately ridiculous. They don’t license you to be any kind of medical doctor without a practicum. Why even make a point about this? Why not just say, “I’m a veterinarian”? I find it just as believable that an average veterinarian could patch up a dinosaur [in fact, probably moreso] than that there is a university out there giving out “paleo-veterinarian” degrees without your ever having to have hands-on a dinosaur).

Okay, I admit this is probably a petty complaint in a movie where we’re supposed to suspend disbelief enough to give reanimated sci-fi dinosaurs a pass. So here’s the major complaint about this character: she’s just plain unlikeable in every way, and yet is presented as one of our heroes. Why do movies persist in the notion that being “strong” means being a butthole all the time? Can’t a “strong woman” be cordial? Doesn’t it make you a stronger individual if you don’t have to go around aggressively trying to tell people how strong you are?

Other new characters: EVIL MILITARY MAN (played by Silence of the Lambs’ Ted Levine)…

…whose main character points are that a) he’s apparently an evil Trump supporter (since they actually wrote him a painfully on-the-nose line where he calls Dr. Strongwoman “a Nasty Woman”), and b) he’s making a necklace out of dinosaur teeth. (Why? Maybe he wants to feel pretty. It’s never explored.)

Second to last important new character — Fake John Hammond (aka “John Hammond’s best friend who we’ve never heard of before”), played by the farmer from Babe.

“That’ll do, Convenient-Plot-Device. That’ll do.”

He was benign and wholly uninteresting. I have no problem with the actor’s performance — just that they gave him virtually nothing to do, and that they are retroactively introducing a “best friend” that’s never been mentioned in four other movies. This is a movie/tv trope that is a bit of a pet-peeve for me; when a story suddenly introduces something (something we’ve never heard of before) that is supposed to be a major element of a character’s personality purely and obviously out of plot convenience.

  *AHEM*

Finally, rounding out the new characters, there was Fake John Hammond’s granddaughter. Her performance was fine — but more on her, later, in the spoilers section.

OLD CHARACTERS

This may be heresy… but I was never that crazy about Chris Pratt’s character from the first movie, as there isn’t much to it. (Believe me: I like Chris Pratt. It’s not Chris Pratt’s fault; he just wasn’t written anything interesting to do or say in these movies).

He’s still the same flat, vaguely tough, vaguely benign character in this movie. I wish they would give him… well, more character. Indiana Jones doesn’t say a whole lot in Raiders of the Lost Ark, but — in the first ten minutes of the movie — do you have any doubt about what kind of a man he is or what he would do or say in a given situation? Of course not, because it’s a well-written, well-put-together movie that knows who and what its characters are.

Remember their famous, character-driven lines like, “Run!” “Stop!” and “Hey!”?

Meanwhile, Bryce Dallas Howard (our heroine, and real-life daughter of Ron Howard) has completely changed character since the first movie; in the first movie she’s a strong businesswoman who doesn’t care about dinosaurs as much as she cares about her career (and, in the course of the movie, comes to care about family and being alive more than any of that). So, despite that, despite surviving a horrendous incident where dinosaurs wanted to eat her nephews, in this movie, she has somehow become a “dinosaur rights activist” who spends her time petitioning the government to get money to save the dinos from soon-to-be-exploded Jurassic Park island — when she isn’t waxing philosophical about how beautiful dinosaurs are and what a shame it would be if they weren’t around for the next generation (i.e. her nephews, the people who were just terrorized by dinosaurs) to enjoy. There is no explanation for why she went through this sudden change-of-heart. It’s just… plain… the opposite… of well-written.

And while we’re speaking about old characters — might I add that while the trailer teases the presence of Jeff Goldblum, there is a pitifully small amount of Jeff Goldblum in this movie. Oh, he’s there, and he’s effective, but what’s with this trend of movies that should feature plenty of Goldblum being low on the Goldblum? (I’m looking at YOU, Independence Day: Resurgence!)

THE PLOT

So, the plot of this movie is — a) get all our heroes back to Jurassic Park in time to be chased by dinosaurs, and b) get dinosaurs back to the mainland so we can see people in the regular world eaten by dinosaurs. Essentially, it’s the same basic idea behind the utterly lousy Jurassic Park: Lost World, but I’ll give it to this movie that this plot is executed AMAZINGLY BETTER than that movie was.

… Although that’s not really saying all that much. It’s like saying that having a terrible headache is amazingly better than having your head crushed by a steamroller. Jurassic Park: Lost World is an ugly, mean-spirited, and profoundly dull movie (that wastes the presence of both dinosaurs and Jeff Goldblum) and produces virtually no enjoyment for the viewer. In fact, it makes goofy Jurassic Park III look pretty good by comparison.

With those as measuring sticks, then, I would say that this movie is close to the same level as Jurassic Park III —  no, no, to be fair, it’s above it, in many ways. Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom takes some missteps, the plot is kind of forgettable, the characters are kind of one-dimensional — but it’s not awful. (With the exception of one part of the ending. Which will be covered in the next section).

MY MAIN PROBLEM WITH THE MOVIE

(With **SPOILERS**)

Okay. So the bad guy tells our heroes that they don’t really want to save Faux Hammond’s granddaughter because it turns out she’s a clone. (Which our heroes don’t really react to, because they’re probably just as confused about what that has to do with anything as we are.) So without a ripple in the plot we move on — the dinosaurs are trapped in the haunted castle with all our heroes and all the bad guys. They eat most of the bad guys, then come after our heroes — climaxing in a scene where the worst and most evil of the dinosaurs chases clone baby into her bedroom and slowly stalks her while she cowers in bed. (In truth, the scene felt a little sloppy to me. It could have been much scarier, but instead of having the dinosaur hidden in darkness — it pretty much approached her in a fully (if marginally dimly) lit room.

But that’s not my main problem.

So, our heroes escape and wind up back in the basement, where they discover the remaining dinosaurs are being poisoned by poison gas. (Because plot convenience). Our heroes debate whether or not they should release the dinosaurs — because releasing them would allow them out into the world where they will doubtlessly kill every human being they come across. Bryce Dallas Howard decides she just can’t do it — she can’t save the dinosaurs at the cost of people’s lives.

Then the doors open and the dinosaurs escape… because rotten clone baby released them. “They get to be alive because I’m alive and I’m a clone like them,” she essentially says, by way of explanation.

THAT is my big problem with this movie and the thing that essentially soured the experience for me. YOUR HEROES AREN’T SUPPOSED TO HELP THE CHILD-KILLING MONSTERS GET AWAY. By the end of the movie, we’re essentially watching a horror movie in which dinosaurs are our Freddy Krueger or Jason Voorhees — AND IT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE (nor is it in any way satisfactory) FOR OUR HERO TO RELEASE FREDDY KRUEGER INTO THE WILD TO TERRORIZE OTHER CHILDREN AT THE END OF THE FILM BECAUSE HE’S A LIVING PERSON, TOO.

Well, sort of.

I do understand that it wouldn’t have been satisfactory for the story (or the filmmakers) to kill off all the dinosaurs in this movie. Of course the dinosaurs had to escape — because the filmmakers want to make another billion dollars with Jurassic World III: Ian Malcolm’s Revenge.

But I would have found it much more satisfactory if the dinosaurs had just darn well escaped on their own; it would have been a good spot for a nice callback to “life finds a way”.

But no — one of our heroes allows the dinosaurs to escape, thus destroying that person’s status as a hero, and giving what would otherwise be an effective and surprising ending a rancid aftertaste. (**END OF SPOILERS**)

ULTIMATELY…

I’m not going to say that this was a terrible movie-going experience, like Jurassic Park: Lost World. I was actually pretty engaged while I was watching it — or else I wouldn’t remember so many details to complain about above. But it must be said: an example of great writing IT WAS NOT. The characterization was lame, the dialogue was awful, the plot was pretty soft, and the ending had an element that almost screwed it up entirely.

Not this element. This element was just fine.

But, it must be said — if you want to watch a movie with lava, dinosaurs and lots of running and screaming, you’re not going to be disappointed. So, I guess it really depends on what your standards and expectations are.  Are you hoping for a dinosaur movie with a really well-crafted story — or are you just hoping for a movie where dinosaurs crash through stuff and it doesn’t matter what brand of schlock the story is? If the latter, you’re not going to be disappointed. If the former… Well, all I can do is give a tentative review of:

Recommended…With Strong Reservations.

On My Shelf: Jurassic World Fallen Kingdom (2018) I saw Jurassic World before I started this blog, so I can't refer back to it -- but, suffice it to say, it was a bit of a let-down.

[wanna-be-bold]

Thanks to Tali - Ch 11

You can find the rest of the story here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12498508/1/Thanks-to-Tali

Good Time to be Alive

Saturday, May 25, 2019 – Ziva’s baby shower

           “C’mon Zi! Gibbs is expecting us for lunch and we don’t want to be late!” Tony yelled up the stairs to his wife who was getting herself and Tali ready to go to Gibbs house for what they thought was just lunch. He and Abby had been planning a surprise baby shower for Ziva for over a month and were able to talk Gibbs into letting them have it at his house. The decorating was left completely up to Abby with the promise that she would keep it a light, neutral theme. Meanwhile, Tony ordered all of the food from one of Ziva’s favorite deli’s that catered, as well as the cake which Senior promised to pick up and deliver to Gibbs. Now, Tony’s job was to get Ziva to Gibbs’ without her being suspicious. After five minutes, Tali came running down the stairs, shortly followed by Ziva. They were in matching striped dresses with their hair clipped half-up, Tali’s pink with a bow in her hair and Ziva’s a dark purple with a white flowy cardigan over top. “Well look at my beautiful girls.”

           “Thanks daddy! Look, Ima and I match!” Tali hugged Ziva’s leg, smiling up at her mother.

           “You do don’t you.” Tony smiled at his daughter before looking up into Ziva’s eyes. She was looking lovingly down at their daughter, one arm held by Tali and the other hand laying on her bump. “So, are you two ready to go?” That broke Ziva out of her head and she nodded, telling Tali to go get her jacket out of the coat closet as the D.C. air was still cool. Tony helped Ziva into her shoes and grabbed her purse, leading his family out the door.

           The DiNozzos pulled into Gibbs driveway five minutes late according to Ziva, but right on time according to Tony’s plan. Thankfully, everyone else had carpooled and had parked down the street in the opposite direction they had driven in from so that Ziva wouldn’t see their cars. He put the car into park and stepped back to open Tali’s door before walking around to open Ziva’s. Having been told of the surprise that morning, Tali ran ahead into the home and took her place between Gibbs and Senior in the living room. Behind them were Abby, Ducky, Tim and Delilah McGee and their baby, Jimmy, Breena, Victoria and Charles Palmer, three of Ziva’s friends from work, Cassie, Mindy, and Amanda, and Abigail Borin.

           “Well someone’s in a hurry.” Tony commented lightly, taking Ziva’s hand in his and walking up the sidewalk. Tony opened the door, holding his hand out for Ziva to lead the way. Stepping inside, Ziva was welcomed by several voices yelling surprise. She looked around in awe at her friends and family gathered under a Baby Shower banner and took in the pastel yellow and green balloons that adorned Gibbs living room. Tony’s hand came up to rest on the small of her back as he whispered “surprise” in her ear, causing her to turn around and envelope him in a hug, whispering “thank you.” Shaking off her shock, she walked the rest of the way into the house, going up to each person for a hug or handshake. As usual, Abby was jumping up and down and wrapped her in an excited hug. Ready to get the party started, Abby ushered her into the kitchen where lunch trays were set up around the room and the cake was placed on the dining room table. Everyone grabbed their plates and gathered around the living room to eat and share light conversation. After eating, the four children went upstairs to their room where Gibbs had filled the room with hand-made toys to keep them occupied and had sleeping bags laid out across the floor in case they got tired. Meanwhile downstairs, the guys were relegated to the basement so all of the women could play the shower games Abby had prepared and the guys could work with Gibbs on putting the finishing touches on the furniture for Ziva’s nursery.

           Throughout the evening, the mothers shared their pregnancy and labor stories before calling the guys up and the kids downstairs for cake and presents. Abby pulled a kitchen chair strewn with balloons and streamers into the middle of the living room and brought the presents over within her reach. Tony pulled a chair over next to her and Tali came over to hand the presents to Ziva since bending over was no longer possible. Ziva opened bags full of clothes and books, including an NCIS onesie that came from Borin, a “Mommy’s Little Ninja” onesie from the McGees, and a light gray onesie with the outline of a bat in the middle. The Palmers had purchased a bag full of newborn necessities including fingernail clippers and diaper cream. After all of the wrapped presents were opened, Ziva was instructed to stay still and not turn around as Tony, McGee, and Gibbs went into the other room where they hid the furniture earlier and carried it into the living room behind Ziva. Tony signaled to Abby that they were done and came around to Ziva’s side.

           “We have one more present for you Zi. I know that you had hoped this little one could have had the same crib Tali had when she was born, the same one that you slept in as a baby, but it was destroyed in the explosion.” Ziva just looked at him and nodded, recalling their conversation almost two months ago when she confessed to him that she didn’t want to buy baby furniture yet because she always wanted her children to have the same crib she slept in at her family’s farmhouse. “I know you wanted the bed our baby slept in to have meaning, so I called in some reinforcements.” Ziva’s eyes started getting teary-eyed as she realized the meaning behind his words. “Turn around Zi.” Ziva turned around in her chair and gasped at the hand-made crib and matching rocker that had a rich brown stain. There was a white and gray blanket with bears and foxes draped over the front of the crib which held a stuffed brown bear and orange fox. The rocker was adorned with a light gray cushion with two pillows in a dark purple and olive green. Ziva’s hand went up to cover her mouth as she stood up and took it all in, looking at her husband then Gibbs.

           “You did all of this?” Gibbs just shrugged.

           “Can’t take all the credit for it. Senior helped too.” Ziva turned around and looked at her father-in-law in amazement.

           ���You, you worked on this too?”

           “Well, mainly just the staining and getting the decorations. Gibbs here doesn’t have an eye for decorating like I do.” Ziva just smiled and walked up to him, enveloping him in a hug before moving to Gibbs.

           “Thank you, thank you both so much.” She tried hard not to cry but wiped at her eyes as a few tears escaped against her will. “I love it.”

           “I’m glad Ziver.” Gibbs pressed a kiss to the side of her head before she went back to looking at her new furniture.

             It was getting late and guests began heading home, Ziva making sure to stop each one to thank them for coming before they left until eventually only Abby and Senior remained with Gibbs and the DiNozzo family. The men were cleaning up as Abby, Ziva, and Tali began carrying presents out to the car. Tali ran back in to get the bags she could carry but Ziva paused before following her, waiting for Abby put the gifts in the back of their car before addressing her.  “Thank you so much for the party Abby. I, um, I did not have one with Tali and now, being back here, with Tony, and being around family. Well it, it really means a lot.”

           “Oh Ziva of course.” Abby pulled her into hug as Ziva tried, unsuccessfully, to hold in the tears, blaming it on the hormones. “I’m so glad you’re back and that you and Tony are together and having another baby. This is such an exciting time and I wasn’t gonna let it pass without throwing you a shower.” As they pulled away, Abby was wiping at her eyes as well, trying not to mess up her makeup. Tali came back out with a small present and placed it in the backseat and this time Ziva and Abby followed to get the rest of the presents.

           Thirty minutes later the car was packed and Gibbs house was completely cleaned. Ziva had made her rounds, hugging Senior, Abby, and Gibbs, saying goodbye and thanking them all. “Okay Tali, say goodbye, it is time to go.”

           “Ima, can I stay at Grampa Gibbs tonight? Pretty please?” Tali looked up at Ziva with big eyes that always made her think of Tony.

           “Did you already ask Gibbs?” Ziva looked at her daughter curiously, knowing that the first time she asked to spend the night she had sprung it on her grandfather, although he was never going to turn her down.

           “Actually I suggested it Ziver. Give you and DiNozzo a quiet night and I can bring her back tomorrow when I drop this stuff off.” Gibbs answered, motioning to the crib and rocker. Ziva looked at her husband and they held one of their famous, eye-only, conversations, silently agreeing with each other.

           “Yes Tali, you may stay the night. Just, please make sure to go to bed on time. And Gibbs, please do not let her sleep in too late.” Gibbs just smiled and shook his head, remembering the last time Tali stayed over and he unknowingly let her stay up until 2:00 am with him as he worked in the basement. She was so tired the next morning that she didn’t wake up until her parents arrived for brunch at 11:00 am. “And Tali, make sure to brush your teeth too okay?” Tali just smiled and nodded. “Okay then. Well, Tony are you ready to go?”

           “Sure am Zi.” Tony walked up to Senior, Abby, and Gibbs, hugging them each before stepping back next to Ziva. “Thank you all so much for helping me do this for Zi. I couldn’t have done it without you.” He was met with a series of “of course” and “you’re welcome.” The couple said goodbye to Tali and waved, walking back out to their car. Tony opened the passenger side door for Ziva before walking around to the other side and getting in. As soon as he got settled and backed out of the driveway, he reached over and laid his hand over hers and, as usual, she turned hers over to clasp their hands together.

           “Today was amazing Tony. I really cannot believe you pulled that off. Every time you do something like this I fall in love a little bit more.” Ziva pulled their intertwined hands up to press a kiss to the back of his. “Thank you again ahava.”

           “You are very welcome Zi. You are so very welcome.”

  AN: I had a day off so I got 2 chapters done in one day! I’m pretty happy with myself. “Good Time to be Alive” is also a song title by Lady Antebellum.

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