#because it's stupid to think folks need ''permission'' to enjoy anything

[royalarchivist]

Cucurucho: 🔎🫧

Last year's Cucurucho's fireplace stream was sweet because the holidays can be a very sad and lonely time for a lot of people, and I think the intention of this stream is to offer that same comfort.

I know this stream was a bit of a surprise for everyone, and I know many of us are probably feeling mixed emotions about it, however– Seeing a familiar face or watching characters do silly things can sometimes make a big difference for folks who are having a difficult time. I hope this stream does bring a bit of joy and comfort to folks who need it right now.

No matter what the case may be for you, I hope you're all doing alright. 💕

[lazuli-writes]

Outtakes - 25 quotes from the Silver Quartet

summary: 25 random quotes from each member of the Silver Quartet.

genre: angst / fluff / humor

estimated word count: 1400 words

a/n: Just trying to get back into writing more. I have so much stuff for this series, but I’m struggling to refine it. Here’s a droplet fic for Slytherin’s resident four horsemen. Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

Tracey

“Areyougoinhtoeatthat?”

“It must be the galleons talking.”

“We’re like a failed Monty Python.”

“If having half the prat-blood you have makes me less than, than I’ll happily be less than.”

“So the beast wouldn’t attack any of us, right… just asking.”

“You filthy barbarian, fish and chips are a DELICACY! What are you, AMERICAN?!”

“What would your mum do if we were to break the uncooked pasta noodles?”

“Fun fact: I don’t care.”

“There’s enough oil in Snape’s hair to satisfy the needs of English fish frying for at least a decade.”

“I’m a witch, not a prophet.”

“I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furio- not a single one of you know which film I’m quoting right now.”

“Banoffee pie was a gift from the heavens.”

“Oh please, by the time we reach your age Professor, I’m sure at least one of us will have made a name for ourselves other than being stuck in a castle teaching delinquents the refined arts of magical cooking.”

“Run Theo! Run” *cue the laughter as she watches Theo run from being disciplined by Bartholomew Greengrass.

“I want the skeletons. Oh and the jewelry please!!”

“It’s almost as if I don’t care.”

“Daph, you’re forgetting the fact that Ron and Theo share the same braincell… Wait… I forgot you don’t know what a brain cell is.”

“Mutually assured destruction. Truce?”

“What crawled up her butt and died?”

“Oui oui” “Tracey I am Italian, NOT FRENCH!” “Yeah yeah whatever.”

“That’s a lot of deathies. They would probably need multiple Potters going separate ways to possibly make an escape.”

“Ron you’d be Ginger Spice, Daphne you’d be Posh Spice, Theo is Baby Spice and of course I’d be Scary Spice-“ “why can’t I be sporty spicy” “because you can’t even say their name correctly Theo.”

“Do you think you’ll find something as perfect as they did?”

“Over the hills and a long way off…”

“Theo… I’ll be with you soon…”

Daphne

“So the first place you choose to hide is in a room with dead bodies?”

“She looks like the love child of a troll and a fairy.”

“Stupid mirror.”

“Ronald, why is our potion pink?”

“Father is gonna kill you two for going into the chamber you know…”

“You. Ate. My. Cauldron. Cakes.”

“You tell Ron anything and I WILL tell Tracey how you find her lips very interesting lately.”

“For a dirty stray, he does kind of look like Falkor.”

“You won’t look like that when you get old, right Ron?”

“So blue is out of the question. I guess the typical silver would look nice.”

“Do you think he found u-AHHHHHHH!”

“All I know is that I lay claim to any and all dresses, cloaks, shawls and the likes. Any clothes in this room is MINE.”

“A quintaped has five limbs.”

“Harpy, veela, vulture… same thing.”

“He’s more of a man than you will ever be.”

“It was Theo and Ron’s idea.”

“He had the breath of a damn merling!”

“You gave my parents the greatest gift they could have ever gotten in that moment… hope that their daughters… their family will survive this war. You gave them hope.”

“Not even death can dispute my love for you, Ronald Bilius Weasley. I would be blessed to be able to call you my love, my partner, my friend and my husband for eternity. By these vows… I declare, I do.”

“I think insanity is a social construct. We may think he’s unhinged beyond compare… but he’s definitely the hero in her world.”

“I killed a child Ron! How can you still look me in the eye and say you love me! HOW?”

“I’ve never killed a mutt before.”

“He asked to take my name. He felt that he had no right to give a name he was deemed unworthy of.”

“It is hard to play a game when you don’t know the rules.”

“Say hello to mother and father for me sis. I’m gonna miss you… so much.”

Theodore

“Why do you look like that?”

“Sectersuper?” “Sectum—sempra” “shut up Weasley.”

“Auntie!! Daphne and Tracey are breaking the pasta noodles!”

“You have troll breath.”

“You didn’t have to do that. You’re not bad Weasley. Not bad at all.”

“I would have called him a filthy spawn of inbreeding but then… that would have also… applied… to-“ “SHUT UP THEO!” “What, it’s the truth Daph!”

“Oh yes, because the lion is the most amazing creature in the world. *eye roll* When a lion talks and starts killing witches and wizards, talk to me then Weasel.”

“I didn’t mean for Malfoy to call you Weasel. Accident, truly it was!”

“Why are you always staring at Ron?”

“Why would he think he even had a chance with Trace?! He looks like the love child of a hag and a house elf.”

“I’m telling you my dear cousin, that Malfoy has been staring at Ronald’s bottom almost as much as he was staring at yours.”

“I’m gonna be a rich man!!” “You already are a rich man Theo.” “Then I’m gonna be an even richer man!! I call dibs on all weapons!!”

“I don’t know why!! I was too busy saving your sister to think ‘oh how much money is this worth’.”

“It’s not my fault you failed to save mother.”

“God save the witches and wizards.”

“I’m not staring at Tracey you imbecile!”

“You cannot be both annoying and lacking magical prowess. Please pick one failure to endure.”

“If you must know, banoffee pie is actually scrumptious. If you are going to advertise your lack of taste, please do so away from my presence.”

“Why do we have to go back to Ron’s old bat of an aunt? She’s so mean.”

“If you wanna be my friend… you gotta get with my… other friends.” “Horrible rendition sporty spicy.” “Shut up Ron!!”

“I wanna live in a small cottage when I choose to settle down. I want a place surrounded and engulfed by all of my favorite plants.”

“Still got troll breath I see.”

“I wish I could see what is it you see every time you look at me Trace.”

“I love her. So damn much.”

“DON’T YOU TOUCH HER!!!”

Ronald

“Do you have an eye problem?”

“Theo has a bag of bezoars for a brain.”

“Daphne will kill us if she knows what we’re doing and Tracey will laugh at us if we get hurt. I already know.”

“Stupid mirror.”

“You hear that Tracey, us peasants mustn’t talk anymore.”

“Do you think Snape has a pet under that robe? He always smells.”

“Potter, Granger and Longbottom seem to have this obsession with all things ‘not their business’ that it’s actually quite funny at times.”

“Me and you remember Valentine’s Day very differently.”

“Bill and Charlie ran away the first chance they got. Percy has a superiority complex, Fred is sadistic. George just thinks Fred’s farts smell amazing, and Ginny has this weird habit of hero worshipping people who aren’t heroes.”

“Theo… could you think of anything else other than… her.” “Shove off and stay out of my head Ron.”

“Bloody bint… that thing is worse than Snape…” “Ron that was a quintaped.” “An ugly one at that!”

“Some of my family has this… belief that I’ve been ingenuous about my character. When really, they just don’t seem to understand me all that much.”

“I.. don’t know… I can’t find the words to tell you how I’m feeling Daph.”

“Muggles do have the big boom booms. What are they called again? Nookies?” “Nukes Ron.” “Oh.”

“How do you think she’ll kill us for leaving? Do you think she’ll really castrate me?”

“You want to… marry me? Why?”

“Auntie, if you turn me away now, I’m literally gonna slap you with my hand.” *proceeds to wave his amputated arm, much to the silent horror of Muriel Prewett*

“There will never be a second in this lifetime or the next, that I will ever stop loving you Daphne. You bless me with the honor of being able to call you mine and I yours. By these vows I declare, I do.”

“Still sour about the Manor Lady Lestrange? If it’s any consolation, your husband’s wand works wonderfully.”

“I mean I could… but why would I want to do that Daph?”

“All I ever wanted was to be a real Weasley, dad. And I fucked that up the moment that hat screamed Slytherin.”

“And now we are both here. Rotting in Azkaban. Yet only one of us has any chance of leaving.”

“You what?” “I gave birth Ron.” “. . .You were pregnant?”

“This is your grandma and grandpa. That’s your aunties Tracey and Tori, and your funny uncle Theo.”

“Daphne did you hear!! Albus is a Slytherin HAHAHAHAHAH I can’t wait to shove that in Ginny and Harry’s face.”

[bringbackthebastard]

Bring Back the Bastard Daily Prompts

Hello, folks! I'm posting these two weeks before we begin our fest, on September 1st, to give folks some inspiration on what to write each day as we celebrate Severus Snape's pettiest, most dastardly moments. I specifically picked out moments Snaters always harp on, that Snapedom personally enjoys--from any moment with Trevor to bitching at Lupin at Sirius, to the moments that Lily turns away and Dumbledore's face flashes with disgust--sure, he's a bastard, but he's our bastard, and that's what we like about him. You don't want him? Good. We'll keep him. Here are 30 scene prompts for 30 days--it's a long list, pulled chronologically from all seven books, but I found that it reminded me of everything I love about this character. The moments where he's called deranged, the moments where he slips into all-caps, the ugliest moments of the soul. Hope yall enjoy. Excited to kick off the fest starting September 1st, and absolutely excited to see what Snapedom will do. Let's Bring Back the Bastard! The prompts are below the readmore.

Day 1: The Scar Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacheer with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes--and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead. "Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head. "What is it?" asked Percy. "N-nothing." The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look--a felling that he didn't like Harry at all. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy. "Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to--everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Day 2: Bad Impressions Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name. "Ah, yes," he said softly. "Harry Potter. Our new--celebrity."

Day 3: Potions Class "Potter!" said Snape suddenly "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of what? Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione's hand shot into the air. "I don't know, sir," said Harry. Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Tut, tut--fame clearly isn't everything."

Day 4: A Horrible Sight Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages. "Blasted thing," Snape was saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?" Harry tried to shut the door quietly, but-- "POTTER!" Snape's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. Harry gulped. "I just wondered if I could have my book back." "GET OUT! OUT!"

Day 5: Maybe He's Ill "Hang on..." Harry muttered to Ron. "There's an empty chair at the staff table...Where's Snape?" Professor Severus Snape was Harry's least favorite teacher. Harry also happened to be Snape's least favorite student. Cruel, sarcastic, and disliked by everybody except the students from his own House (Slytherin), Snape taught Potions. "Maybe he's ill!" said Ron hopefully. "Maybe he's left," said Harry, "because he missed out on the Defense Against the Dark Arts job again!" "Or he might have been sacked!" said Ron enthusiastically. "I mean, everyone hates him--" "Or maybe," said a very cold voice right behind them, "he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train."

Day 6: Slytherin Takes the Field "But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "But I booked it!" "Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

Day 7: No Quidditch For You! "I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful," he said. "It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest." "Really, Severus," said Professor McGonagall sharply, "I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong." Dumbledore was giving Harry a searching look. His twinkling light-blue gaze made Harry feel as though he were being X-rayed. "Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," he said firmly. Snape looked furious.

Day 8: Expelliarmus! "Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry--you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!" "Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered in Harry's ear. Snape's upper lip was curling. Harry wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at *him* like that he'd have been running as fast as he could in the opposite direction. Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them. "As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our fist spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course." "I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth. "One--two--three--" Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet. He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

Day 9: Only Bite Him A Little Bit, Please "Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it..."

Day 10: Poisoning Trevor The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron. "Everyone gather 'round," said Snape, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned." The Gryffindors watched fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat. There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small op, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm. The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown. "Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, which wiped smiles from every face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

Day 11: Insufferable Know-It-All Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermione, whose hand, as it so often did, had shot straight into the air. "Anyone?" Snape said, ignoring Hermione. His twisted smile was back. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between--" "We told you," said Parvati suddenly, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on--" "Silence!" snarled Snape. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are..." "Please, sir," said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf--" "That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," said Snape coolly. "Fire more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Day 12: Your Saintly Father "I would hate for you to run away with a false idea of your father, Potter," he said, a terrible grin twisting his face. "Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you--your saintly father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have resulted in my death if your father hadn't gotten cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing brave about what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine. Had their joke succeeded, he would have been expelled from Hogwarts." Snape's uneven, yellowish teeth were bared.

Day 13: Don't Talk About What You Don't Understand "KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" A few sparks shot out of the end o his wand, which was still pointed at Black's face. Hermione fell silent. "Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed at Black. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you..." "The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle" --he jerked his head at Ron-- "I'll come quietly...." "Up to the castle?" said Snape silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black...pleased enough to give you a little Kiss, I daresay...."

Day 14: A Great Disappointment "He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have let somebody in the room with him. When this gets out--" "HE DIDN'T DISAPPARATE!" Snape roared, now very close at hand. "YOU CAN'T APPARATE *OR* DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS--HAS--SOMETHING--TO--DO--WITH--POTTER!" "Severus--be reasonable--Harry has been locked up--" BAM. The door of the hospital wing burst open. Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quite enjoying himself. Fudge appeared angry. But Snape was beside himself. "OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" he bellowed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" "Professor Snape!" shrieked Madam Pomfrey. "Control yourself!" "See here, Snape, be reasonable," said Fudge. "This door's been locked, we just saw--" "THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" Snape howled, pointing at Harry and Hermione. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth. "Calm down, man!" Fudge barked. "You're talking nonsense!" "YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" shrieked Snape. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT--" "That will do, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the war ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?" "Of course not!" said Madam Pomfrey, bristling. "I would have heard them!" "Well, there you have it, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further." Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at his behavior, to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. Snape whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward. "Fellow seems quite unbalanced," said Fudge, staring after him. "I'd watch out for him if I were you, Dumbledore." "Oh, he's not unbalanced," said Dumbledore quietly. "He's just suffered a severe disappointment."

Day 15: Haven't You Heard? "Blimey, haven' yeh heard?" said Hagrid, his smile fading a little. He lowered his voice, even though there was nobody in sight. "Er--Snape told all the Slytherins this mornin'....Thought everyone'd know by now...Professor Lupin's a werewolf, see. An' he was loose on the grounds las' night...He's packin' now, o' course."

Day 16: I See No Difference "And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice. Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain." "Potter attacked me, sir--" "We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted. "--and he hit Goyle--look--" Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi. "Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly. "Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!" He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth--she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back. Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."

Day 17: The Dark Mark Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He struck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled. "There," said Snape harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eater to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

Day 18: If You Are Ready...If You Are Prepared... "Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready...if you are prepared..." "I am," said Snape. He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely. "Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.

Day 19: Obviously "Now...how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" she asked, her quill poised over her clipboard. "Fourteen years," Snape replied. His expression was unfathomable. His eyes on Snape, Harry added a few drops to his potion; it hissed menacingly and turned from turquoise to orange. "You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape. "Yes," said Snape quietly. "But you were unsuccessful?" Snape's lip curled. "Obviously." Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard. "And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?" "Yes," said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. He looked very angry. "Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?" asked Umbridge. "I suggest you ask him," said Snape jerkily. "Oh I shall," said Professor Umbridge with a sweet smile. "I suppose this is relevant?" Snape asked, his black eyes narrowed. "Oh yes," said Professor Umbridge. "Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers'--er--backgrounds...." She turned away, walked over to Pansy Parkinson, and began questioning her about the lessons. Snape looked around at Harry and their eyes met for a second. Harry hastily dropped his gaze to his potion, which was now congealing foully and giving off a strong smell of burned rubber. "No marks again, then, Potter," said Snape maliciously, emptying Harry's cauldron with a wave of his wand. "You will write me an essay on the correct composition of this potion, indicating how and why you went wrong, to be handed in next lesson, do you understand?"

Day 20: Very Like His Father "How touching," Snape sneered. "But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?" Yes, I have," said Sirius proudly. "Well then, you'll know he's so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him," Snape said sleekly. Sirius pushed his chair roughly aside and strode around the table toward Snape, pulling out his wand as he went; Snape whipped out his own. They were squaring up to each other, Sirius looking livid, Snape calculating, his eyes darting from Sirius' wand-tip to his face. "Sirius!" said Harry loudly, but Sirius appeared not to hear him. "I've warned you, Snivellus," said Sirius, his face barely a foot from Snape's, "I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better." "Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" whispered Snape. "Or are you afraid he might not take the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother's house for six months very seriously?" "Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?" "Speaking of dogs," said Snape softly, "did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognized you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform...gave you a cast-iron excuse not to leave your hidey-hole in future, didn't it?" Sirius raised his wand. "NO!" Harry yelled, vaulting over the table and trying to get in between them, "Sirius, don't--" "Are you calling me a coward?" roared Sirius, trying to push Harry out of the way, but Harry would not budge. "Why, yes, I suppose I am," said Snape.

Day 21: Wormtail's Whine "We...we are alone, aren't we?" Narcissa asked quietly. "Yes, of course. Well, Wormtail's here, but we're not counting vermin, are we?" He pointed his wand at the wall of books behind him and with a bang, a hidden door flew open, revealing a narrow staircase upon which a small man stood frozen. "As you have clearly realized, Wormtail, we have guests," said Snape lazily. The man crept, hunchbacked, down the last few steps and moved into the room. He had small, watery eyes, a pointed nose, and wore an unpleasant simper. His left hand was caressing his right, which looked as though it was encased in a bright silver glove. "Narcissa!" he said, in a squeaky voice. "And Bellatrix! How charming--" "Wormtail will get us drinks, if you'd like them," said Snape. "And then he will return to his bedroom." Wormtail winced as though Snape had thrown something at him. "I am not your servant!" he squeaked, avoiding Snape's eyes. "Really? I was under the impression that the Dark Lord placed you here to assist me." "To assist, yes--but not to make you drinks and--clean your house!" "I had no idea, Wormtail, that you were craving more dangerous assignments," said Snape silkily. "This can be easily arranged: I shall speak to the Dark Lord--" "I can speak to him if I want to!" "Of course you can," said Snape, sneering. "But in the meantime, bring us drinks. Some of the elf-made wine will do."

Day 22: A Loving Caress Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice; the class craned their necks to keep him in view. "The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible." Harry stared at Snape. It was surely one thing to respect the Dark Arts as a dangerous enemy, another to speak of them, as Snape was doing, with a loving caress in his voice? "Your defenses," said Snape, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures" --he indicated a few of them as he swept past-- "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse" --he waved a hand toward a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony-- "feel the Dementor's Kiss" --a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed, slumped against a wall-- "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius" --a bloody mass upon the ground.

Day 23: Better People "What does it matter?" said Malfoy. "Defense Against the Dark Arts--it's all just a joke, isn't it, an act? Like an of us need protecting against the Dark Arts--" "It is an act that is crucial to success, Draco!" said Snape. "Where do you think I would have been all these years, if I had not known how to act? Now listen to me! You are being incautious, wandering around at night, getting yourself caught, and if you are placing your reliance in assistants like Crabbe and Goyle--" "They're not the only ones, I've got other people on my side, better people!" "Then why not confide in me, and I can--" "I know what you're up to! You want to steal my glory!" There was another pause, then Snape said coldly, "You are speaking like a child. I quite understand that your father's capture and imprisonment has upset you, but--"

Day 24: Revulsion and Hatred Etched on His Face "Severus..." The sound frightened Harry beyond anything he had experienced all evening. For the first time, Dumbledore was pleading. Snape said nothing, but walked forward and pushed Malfoy roughly out of the way. The three Death Eaters fell back without a word. Even the werewolf seemed cowed. Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face. "Severus...please..." Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore. "Avada Kedavra!"

Day 25: Don't Call Me Coward Mustering all his powers of concentration, Harry thought, Levi-- "No, Potter!" screamed Snape. There was a loud BANG and Harry was soaring backward, hitting the ground hard again, and this time his wand flew out of his hand. He could hear Hagrid yelling and Fang howling as Snape closed in and looked down on him where he lay, wandless and defenseless as Dumbledore had been. Snape's pale face, illuminated by the flaming cabin, was suffused with hatred just as it had been before he had cursed Dumbledore. "You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them--I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, woudl you? I don't think so...no!" Harry had dived for his wand; Snape shot a hex at it and it flew feet away into the darkness and out of sight. "Kill me then," panted Harry, who felt no fear at all, but only rage and contempt. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward--" "DON'T--" screamed Snape, and his face was suddenly deranged, inhuman, as though he was in as much pain as the yelping, howling dog stuck in the burning house behind them-- "CALL ME COWARD!"

Day 26: The Guest Voldemort raised Lucius Malfoy's wand, pointed it directly at the slowing revolving figure suspended over the table, and gave it a tiny flick. The figure came to life with a groan and began to struggle against invisible bonds. "Do you recognize our guest, Severus?" asked Voldemort. Snape raised his eyes to the upside-down face. All of the Death Eaters were looking up at the captive now, as thought they had been given permission to show curiosity. As she revolved to face the firelight, the woman said in a cracked and terrified voice, "Severus! Help me!" "Ah, yes," said Snape as the prisoner turned slowly away again.

Day 27: I Regret It "All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here," said Voldemort, his voice barely louder than a whisper, "wondering, wondering why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner...and I think I have the answer." Snape did not speak. "Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen." "My Lord--" "The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine." "My Lord!" Snape protested, raising his wand. "It cannot be any other way," said Voldemort. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last." And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. It did nothing to Snape, who for a split second seemed to think he had been reprieved: But then Voldemort's intention became clear. The snake's cage was rolling through the air, and before Snape could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders, and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue. "Kill." There was a terrible scream. Harry saw Snape's face losing the little color it had left; it whitened as his black eyes widened, as the snake's fangs pierced his neck, as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself, as his knees gave way and he fell to the floor. "I regret it," said Voldemort coldly.

Day 28: You Hurt Her! "Tuney!" said Lily, surprise and welcome in her voice, but Snape had jumped to his feet. "Who's spying now?" he shouted. "What d'you want?" Petunia was breathless, alarmed at being caught. Harry could see her struggling for something hurtful to say. "What is that you're wearing, anyway?" she said, pointing at Snape's chest. "Your mum's blouse?" There was a *crack*. A branch over Petunia's head had fallen. Lily screamed: The branch caught Petunia on the shoulder, and she staggered backward and burst into tears. "Tuney!" But Petunia was running away. Lily rounded on Snape. "Did you make it happen?" "No." He looked both defiant and scared. "You did!" She was backing away from him. "You *did*! You hurt her!" "No--no I didn't!" But the lie did not convince Lily: After one last burning look, she ran from the little thicket, off after her sister, and Snape looked miserable and confused....

Day 29: Save Your Breath "I'm sorry." "I'm not interested." "I'm sorry!" "Save your breath." It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. "I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here." "I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just--" "Slipped out?" There was no pity in Lily's voice. "It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends--you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?" He opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking. "I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine." "No--listen, I didn't mean--" "--to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I any different?" He struggled on the verge of speech, but with a contemptuous look she turned and climbed back through the portrait hole....

Day 30: Anything "If she means so much to you," said Dumbledore, "surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for the mother, in exchange for the son?" "I have--I have asked him--" "You disgust me," said Dumbledore, and Harry had never heard so much contempt in his voice. Snape seemed to drink a little. "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?" Snape said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore. "Hide them all, then," he croaked. "Keep her--them--safe. Please." "And what will you give me in return, Severus?" "In--in return?" Snape gaped at Dumbledore, and Harry expected him to protest, but after a long moment he said, "Anything."

[fxcf]

Holy Shit, why does the majority of this Fandom have the IQ of a wet Potato Chip?

Howdy folks, it's me! The guy with a mask who may or may not be stealing your kneecaps sometime within the timeframe of last week.

So, MHA. That funky little manga and anime that is basically the foundation of my entire Online Prescience. I very much so enjoy it.

But the fandom, on the other hand, god damn can it be dumb. And I'mma talk about the things that fans think is Religious Text that is, in actuality, dumb as all flying Fuck.

So, let us begin!

~Part 1: The Hate of All Might.

I hate the fandom's treatment of All Might. A annoying Majority on AO3 have the accursed Anti-Might Tags, such as "All Might is a Bad Teacher", and "All Might is a Idiot". These tags are fucking stupid.

Yagi Toshiorni is a damn fine teacher when it doesn't come to OFA, and you can't blame him on his failures at teaching OFA to Izuku due to his Own form of training from Gran Torino being mostly, quite abusive. Effective, but we'll get to that later on (:

Now, the fandom has a big issue with another "issue" involving All Might, that being him "Crushing" Izuku's dreams.

Ah, Ba-ba-ba-Bullshit.

Izuku's dream was already crushed, and had been for fucking Years. If anything, All Might let Izuku down softer than even his own goddamn Mother! He was looking out for a kid who had no special bullshit power in a world where the average person has the power to either crush a building with their Mind, ignite someone from half a kilometer away, or even something mundane as a 8 hour erection, and said world also having a unnaturally high Crime Rate from hell.

And need I break out the List Of Deaths I made a long time ago, using the potentiality of who in 1-A would end up dead if Izuku never got OFA and got into UA? If Izuku tried being a Quirkless Hero, he'd either never get far, or end up Dead. And don't bring the "Give him a gun lol" argument, he's 15 and lives in a country where guns are so damn restricted, that getting one would require getting down on his knees and praying to the Gods above for permission from the HPCS, and Good Fucking Luck doing that as a Quirkless Kid who doesn't have a ounce of muscle to him

~Part 2: Aizawa FUCKING Shota.~ (Warning for mentions of Suicide)

Oh, what to say, what, to, say... Let's start with his failures as a Teacher.

I have done a little research into Japanese Teaching, and from what little I do know, a Homeroom Teacher is meant to be someone that monitors a Student's Clubs, Classes, and other such things. Being a Homeroom Teacher requires the Teacher to be trustworthy and approachable by their students, someone they can trust to bring their issues up to, to do things such as signing up for, hmmm, let's say Counseling.

Well, to put it bluntly, I'd rather trust a Thermonuclear Bomb, The Demon Core, and a Doomsday Cultist in a room more than I would Aizawa.

He is the worst teacher in UA, and I'm not even sure he IS a Teacher! Anyone got any confirmation on if he has a Teaching Permit? Nonetheless, He's not trustworthy around kids, mostly because of his "Expulsion Policy". Oh, Mama, I've got something to say about That.

See, It's a little known fact that Expulsion in Japan is a Very Very Very Bad Thing. Being expelled from even a basic school no-one's ever heard of can condemn you to a life of being jobless, being hated by your family, and being considered a Failure by society at large. It is one of the Many issues that result in Japan's depressingly high Suicide Rates, alongside it's unhealthy family dynamics and work ethics.

Now, imagine being expelled from Japan's best Hero School. Imagine the Black Mark that would get you, especially on the first fucking day! And yes, I know he doesn't fully expel them, but imagine how they feel going home. What if they went home, feeling as if nothing was left for them in life. They couldn't go anywhere, they couldn't get a good job. It's brought up well in MadMystic's Consequences Of Expulsion, where Three Students end their lives due to Aizawa's Expulsion Game.

Aizawa is also a horrific person to have around 15 year olds. He's snide, sarcastic, and a massive Cunt. Also, a serious idiot, seeing as he says that "Bakugou not holding back is a sign of respect", while Bakugou was beating Uraraka black and blue. That is not respect, that is Sociopathy with a dash of Sadism.

Really, the fight should have been called when Uraraka started falling over the first time.

Aizawa is also a idiot in Heroics. During the USJ, he Should have stayed with the kids, instead leaving them to protect themselves and also with 13, who is a rescue hero.

Who isn't dedicated to fighting.

while there was a Teleporter in the area.

Need I say more????

~Part 3: Dadzawa VS Dad Might.~

Oh I'mma get heated...

Dadzawa, as pointed out fairly above, is Bullshit. He's a spiteful dick who hasn't gone to therapy for well over 10 years for a severe loss that molded his entire personality since he was 15, and lets it influence his decisions all the way to the current arc of the Manga. If he were a father, he'd be pretty shit at it. Now, Yagi, on the other hand, would be deadass the best choice for Dad-Of-The-Year of MHA.

For one, he's incredibly caring and noticing, puts other's issues before his own, even when it hurts him, and LOOK at this man and tell me he wouldn't make a dad joke whenever he could.

Folks, if ANY of you use the "Yagi Toshinori | All Might is a bad parent" tag, I hope you step on a Lego for the rest of Time.

~~~~

Well, that's all I got for now. Of course, in due time, I'll make a Part Two, where I discuss Gran Torino's frankly abusive training methods, All Might's mental state, Bakugou being a failure of a human being, and people thinking Izuku is weak and Kochako being a good ship.

Pray (:

[junosartsthetic]

Feel like I'm requesting too much 3 with Tenya Iida :)

“Have you ever felt like this before?”

Well, well, well, if it isn't my old friend getting carried away with writing. We meet again. But seriously. I love writing and you can never request too much. I love fulfilling requests. And this was super cute to write!

__

You could tell by the look in his eyes that he’d never been to a theme park before. Being that he was from a rich family, you were surprised. Though, being that Tenya was all work and no play, you shouldn’t have been too in shock.

You, being the daredevil you were, dragged him straight to the most intense coaster in the entire park. Lucky for you, Tenya had managed to buy some fastpasses, thus you ran straight to the start of the ride, bouncing excitedly.

“Are you positive these rides are safe,” he mumbled to you. You shot him a look.

“Umm, yeah?” You noticed he shook slightly. “Are you scared or something? We could have planned something else to do for fun, ya know.”

You nudged his arm. “We’re friends. You can tell me if you don’t wanna be here. I won’t be mad or anything.”

He shook his head, giving you his usual friendly smile. “No, it’s okay. I want to try something new. And I want to spend time with you.”

One of the operators gestured to the two of you, pointing to the front of the coaster. “Alright, the two of you get row 1.”

You squealed happily. “Oh yeah, this one is especially great in the front row because you can see the giant drop before you start going!”

Iida’s smile lessened. “Sounds… great.”

You sat down, Iida taking the seat next to you. You pulled down your restraints, locking yourself into place. “Just pull it down over your head,” you said. “They’ll come and double check you’re strapped in.”

He did as told, and after a quick check, you heard the main operator give the all clear.

“Have fun, folks,” she called. “And enjoy the 300 foot drop!”

“The WHAT?” Iida cried, nervously looking around. You put a hand on his leg.

“It’ll be fun,” you reassured. “Don’t worry.”

The car began to climb up the hill slowly, chains rattling as you were pulled higher and higher into the air. You could see the entire park, and you made sure to note the locations of the other popular coasters.

Meanwhile, Tenya looked around helplessly.

You heard the pull chain stop, and looked down at the massive drop dead ahead. “Alright, now be sure to pose for the camera. It’ll be at the middle of the drop!” you yelled.

Tenya didn’t have time to respond, the car roaring down the hill. You felt your butt leave the seat, and whooped excitedly. You managed to throw up a peace sign as you passed the camera.

You turned towards Iida as the car squealed up the first loop. His eyes were wide, and he gripped the sides of his glasses to keep them from flying off his face. Despite this, he had a large smile on his face.

“See! It’s fun!” You yelled. “It’s like using your quirk but you get to go upside down and stuff!”

His shoulders relaxed when the coaster slowed at a plateau, preparing for another massive drop. “You were right, these are exhilarating!” he yelled back to you.

His voice quaked with nervousness, but he was buzzing with excitement.

When the coaster finally pulled back into the station, he was smiling widely, clapping. You’d never seen him so relaxed before. “I see what all the commotion is about!”

“I told you!”

You wasted no time in leading him to all the best rides in the park, and by the end of the day your brains felt like scrambled eggs, but your adrenaline and excitement were unmatched. “We need to get souvenirs!” you said, gesturing to a shop beside the coaster you just rode. He nodded.

“Of course! I’ll pay for them!”

Normally, you would argue, but you decided to let it go. Afterall, he was rich.

You walked in, perusing the different shirts and hoodies they had. You spotted one you liked and grabbed two of them. “Here,” you said. “We can match!”

You set them on the counter and smiled at the employee. She smiled back. “D’aww. Matching shirts. Cute.”

Iida swiped his credit card.

She bagged the two shirts, handing them to you. She leaned in close. “Girl, he’s a keeper. These are overpriced as hell.”

You blushed. “Oh, umm, we…” you decided to simply smile and nod.

You and him exited the store, and you immediately threw on the shirt, telling him to do the same. “C’mon,” you said. “We gotta take a picture and post it. Let our friends know that I actually got you to ride a roller coaster.”

You pulled out your phone, smiling widely as you threw up a peace sign. Iida did the same. “Say cheese,” you said, snapping the picture.

You posted it to Instagram with the caption, ‘A fun day with the prez. P.s. @Denkichu I told you he’d enjoy it!’

You slid your phone back into your pocket, looking towards Tenya. “The park is almost closed so we should probably head towards the entrance.”

You noticed he was looking around in awe. “Wow,” he muttered. He clutched his shirt. “Have you ever felt like this before? I feel so happy. This has been the most I’ve smiled in a long time.”

You gave him a nudge. “I know. You’ve been smiling all day. You can always come here again, as often as you want, if you enjoy it. Maybe you can take some of our other friends along. I’m sure they’d be in shock at how much you like it here.”

He shook his head, turning towards you. “I don’t think it’s just this park. Being here with you is what really makes me smile.”

You clutched your chest. “Aww, you make me smile, too. That’s what friends are for!”

He suddenly looked away. “Yes. Right. Of course.”

You grabbed his arm. “Hey. You okay?”

He moved to grab your hand, pulling you towards the first roller coaster you rode. “Let’s ride this again. I need to tell you something before we leave here.”

You shrugged. “Alright.”

It didn’t take long for you to be off, creeping up the giant hill. This time, you could see the night sky, lights of the park shining below you. You were tempted to pull out your phone to take a picture but decided against it.

You looked towards Tenya. “Alright, so what did you want to tell me? Quickly, before we drop 300 feet and I start screaming.”

He gulped. “Well, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, and I appreciate you dearly. You’re a wonderful friend, and…”

The drop drew ever closer.

“I’m flattered,” you said. “But maybe get to the point a little faster…”

He clutched his eyes shut as the car stopped, starting to tip over the edge. “I think I’m in love with you!”

Your eyes widened, and the car careened downwards.

“Tenya!” you screamed over the sounds of the track. “Did you just say ‘I’m in love with you’!?” You couldn’t be sure.

“Yes!” he yelled, gripping onto his restraints as he dangled upside down. You noticed his glasses slipping off and clutched the sides of his face to keep them steady. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything but this trip made me realize it! I believe that telling you is the best thing to do! I understand if you don’t reciprocate my feelings!”

The second drop was quickly approaching, and as the car slowed, you smiled at him. You brought his face closer to you. “Don’t be stupid, Tenya!” you said. “Of course I reciprocate your feelings, you nerd!”

He placed his hands atop yours. The car dropped, speeding down the second drop. “Do I have your permission to kiss you!” he yelled.

“Yes! Hurry up before we pull back into the station and get kicked out for PDA!”

With that, he closed the gap.

You pulled away from him just as you slid to a stop. Your cheeks were burning, and your adrenaline was pumping wildly through your veins. That was the most heart-racing thing you’d ever done.

You cleared your throat as you pulled back into the station. Quickly releasing your restraints and hopping out of the car, you dragged him out of the coaster and back onto the main walkway.

“For such a formal person,” you quipped, leaning against his shoulder. “That was quite the confession.”

“Well,” he responded, fixing his glasses awkwardly. “You’re quite the person to confess to.”

You smiled softly, pecking him on the cheek. “Let’s get outta here. We still have time to get ice cream tonight.”

He nodded, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Of course. Anywhere you want to go, I’ll go with you.”

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Oblivious Actions Part 2 of 2

Revali x Reader

5827 words (hey you asked for a big boi so)

Part 1

Thank you for your patience! I really love how this turned out, even though I suck at endings. Critiques and any typo finds are appreciated if I missed anything. Anyway, enjoy!

Music filled the air, the stable was lively, and full of chatter. Understandable, considering it wasn’t everyday the Champions would grace the common folk with their presence. Many travelers were already making their way up the bridges to Rito Village, in anticipation for the Champion celebratory party set for that night. Around Rito Stable, workers had begun lighting up amber lanterns, in preparation for the sun setting in a few hours. A few Hylians were walking about. One Sheikah was playing his instrument by the campfire, humming a familiar tune, while others watched and danced along. Rito and Hylian children zigzagged between the large, wooden crates, painted with the Hyrulean crest. A worker with a maroon tunic was stirring a large pot of stew, its savoury aroma filling every part of the woods. The winds rustled through the dancing trees, creating its own, cutting melody. However, the chill was not felt from within. 

Inside, the curtains by the stable entrance were half drawn, people lounged around tables, talking and eating. Warm, yellow light illuminated the room, the lanterns occasionally flickering. Workers and guests clattered about. A few men in the corner were on their third pint of ale, while a few Rito women were giggling from across the room, staring at a particular Rito and Gerudo. 

He hadn’t bothered to wear his blue scarf, even though he adored it (and he would never say so out loud), he found that its emblem attracted much unwanted attention. Urbosa, on the other hand, had her sky blue skirt on, draped across the stool she was sitting on. It was the figure of a Gerudo so far into the Tabantha Region, combined with her Champion status that attracted attention. So in essence, it was her that negated any efforts Revali made to stay away from the crowds. He leaned back in his seat, staring at the ceiling restlessly, waiting for her to be finished with the last of the lingering fans.

With a flick of her wrist, Urbosa finished writing her name across the piece of parchment. The black ink at the tip of the quill soaked into the paper, leaving Urbosa’s cursive name in large letters. A thin and lanky Hylian man took it excitedly.

���T-thank you, Chief Lady Urbosa ma’am! Really! Truly! This means a lot, I’m going to— I mean… my kids are gonna love this.”

The Gerudo gave him a kind look and tilted her head, her emerald eyes gleamed. There was not a sliver of annoyance or mocking on her face. “It’s not a problem at all, sir. I find it encouraging whenever people come up to greet and support us. Don’t you think, Revali?”

Although the blank, wooden image of the ceiling was very entertaining, Rito pried his gaze away and narrowed his eyes at the two of them. The man was rocking back and forth on his heels, hugging two pieces of paper to his chest. One, already autographed with Urbosa’s loopy handwriting. The other, blank and waiting. His posture was jittery and nervous. The Hylian was switching his gaze between the Rito and the quill on the table. 

Ugh.

“Why yes, Champion Urbosa. It’s always nice to meet the adoring fans.” Revali enunciated the end of the sentence carefully. He continued with a regal tone. “Especially, since we’ve wasted the last hour of our free time watching you write the same word over and over. Theoretically speaking, we have greatly supported the ink business with our presence alone.” He leaned forward, speaking directly to the Hylian. “However, I think we’ve taken enough of this gentleman’s time, so why don’t we send him on his way. After all, I’m sure there are more actually important matters that we all need to attend too.” He flicked his wing in a motion towards the stable exit. 

A beat of silence. Then, the Hylian started to sputter, his cheeks reddening. “O-Oh... oh-oh yes, yes! Of course! I’ll just…” he took a shaky step back, “...be on, my, way, then. Thank you very much for your time!” He shuffled outside, nearly tripping on the step out the exit. 

Letting out a huff of air, the Gerudo Chief muttered under her breath. “Ink business...hilarious as always, Revali.” He let a smirk cross over his feathered face, “Yes, I already knew that, thank you.”

Revali turned his gaze back towards the ceiling, finding comfort in the fact that all the pestering fans were gone. Urbosa rolled her eyes. “Would it kill you to be nice? Or at the very least, polite?” He scoffed. 

“I don’t think having to endure lines of mindless devotees is part of our job description. Last I checked, I was chosen for my masterful skill set and bond with Medoh, not my penmanship.”  

She gave a tired sigh. “We both know that’s not the point, it’s about inspiration and giving people hope.”

“If people are so eager to have my name on a piece of paper,” he picked up the quill the Hylian had accidentally left on their table, “they can write it out themselves. By this point most people have the ability to spell, correct?”

The two continued their idle banter for a bit. The conversation at this point was mostly out of a lack of other things to do, as no food or drink had arrived yet. Then, another Hylian approached their table, cheerfully.

“Excuse me, Champions, I have—”

“OH for the love of Hylia!” the Rito interrupted, “I’m afraid I’m not in the mood to deal with whatever requests you have for me.” He held his head towards the ceiling, exasperated. 

“So pardon my bluntness, but why don’t you—”

“Revali,” Urbosa interjected.

He looked back towards her, a sarcastic response already at the tip of his beak. That was when he caught a glance at the Hylian woman in question.

She was holding up a wooden tray, dark and stained. A large pitcher sat on top of it, and she balanced two cups on either end. Her leather cap sat lopsided on her yellow hair. The symbol of a horse etched onto the fabric of their hat and tunic. The look on her face was that of confusion.

“Oh.”

The stable worker cleared her throat with a forced cough. “Um, you ordered the apple cider, right Champion Revali?” She set the cups down without waiting for a response. The Rito fixed his eyes on his drink, mumbling. “Yes, thank you Lucile.” At least, that’s what he thought her name was. He couldn’t bother to remember all of [Name]’s friends. The bronze colored liquid swirled in his cup.

Attempting to lighten the mood, Urbosa quipped in. “It wouldn’t be very responsible of me to let him get drunk, lest he become even more dramatic than usual.” She exchanged a quiet laugh with the waiter. Revali clicked his tongue. “I am in no need of your motherly supervision, Urbosa. Besides,” he laid his wing across his chest, theatrically, “I’m sure I can handle my drink much better than anyone here ever could.” At that, Urbosa gave a wink towards the waiter, whispering something about ego.

After pouring their drinks, the Hylian that was probably named Lucile put the pitcher back on the tray. “Alright, well, call for a refill when you want it. And don’t worry about the price or anything. [Name] said to put the rupees on their tab.” 

At the mention of their name, Revali perked up. “Wait, Lucile, I noticed I haven’t seen [Name] around yet. Are they…?” he let his voice trail off. It’s not like he cared that much, he was just curious. He hadn’t seen them all day. It’s not like he was looking forward to their interactions or anything. Yeah, curious, that was the word.

“If you’re referring to your little get together later, they’re still on for that.” Lucile gave a warm and knowing smile. “The place is busier than usual, thanks to you guys. So it’s ‘all hands on deck’ if ya know what I mean.”  She gave a quick nod outside, where a savoury aroma was starting to swirl its way inside. “They’re making your on the house dinner right now, so just wait a little bit longer.” Lucile tucked her blonde hair behind her ears, and picked up the tray. “Okie dokie, then. I’ll be seeing you.” 

The Rito allowed himself to look outside. The view was partly obstructed by the purpleish curtains on either side, but the unmistakable glow of embers and flickering firelight could be seen. Craning his head forward a bit, he caught a glimpse of a coffee colored boot in front of a cooking pot, tapping along with the music. Huh, only one stable worker he knew would still be dancing along to the music despite working all day. Revali thought back to that time when [Name] would force him to sing along with the sparrows, just to annoy him. Or how he would invite them to Warblers nest to listen to the Rito kids chirp their tunes. I wonder how they’re doing, have they been working all day? Have they taken a break yet? I know I’ve been caught up with Champion duties, but maybe tonight—

“Wandering eyes kill, little Rito.”

Snapping back into reality, Revali quickly blinked and turned to face Urbosa. There was a calm and almost pitiful tone in her voice that he wasn’t exactly thrilled to be at the end of.

“Ah, my apologies. I should have asked for your permission to use my sense of vision.”

Unbothered by his comment, she kept the smirk on her face. “You know, I’ve never seen you laugh so easily until the other day.” He let out a loud scoff. What was that supposed to mean? Am I not allowed to express emotion on duty? Perhaps I should don the same stupid expression as that little knight.

“Well, perhaps that’s because everyone else in the group is boring.”

Urbosa leaned forward in her seat, letting her elbows rest on the table. “Let down the act, Revali. Everyone can see the big picture but you.”

“What are we even talking about?”

“[Name]”

“Uh-huh. Right, I think it would save us both time if you bothered to be specific in what you mean.” He lifted his wings in fake surrender. “What about them? You insulted by their choice in flower crowns? ”

Putting his wings down, he went for his drink. Taking up the cup of cider, Revali lifted it towards his face, using it as an excuse to not continue further into the conversation Urbosa so clearly wanted to have. Urbosa let out a huff of air. “Look, I’m just trying to compliment you two. You really are a cute couple.”

Instinctively turning to the side, Revali spat out his drink wildly. His coughing fit caused the surrounding conversations in the stable to trickle into curious whispers. A few other Rito in the back were giggling. Thankfully, he hadn’t sprayed anyone as no one was in range. He wiped down the front of his clothes and part of the table with his wing. He cleared his throat and half stood up, addressing the people that were looking at him quizzically. Revali’s voice raised in pitch and his speech quickened.

“AHEM! Wow, that was absolutely appalling and disgusting. I can’t believe the staff would be so careless as to let a dragonfly swirl around in my cup! I WILL be sure to speak with someone later concerning the cleanliness and hygienic practices of this place. So...yeah…” he let his voice echo in the room for a few more moments before sitting back down completely. Urbosa’s hands were folded as if in prayer, but her fingertips were pushed in front of her lips, as if to keep from laughing.

“Great save.”

“Shut up, will you? What in the hells did you just say? Couple? I think you’re clearly misreading things.”

She let out a short laugh. “Well, the fact that you reacted so enthusiastically says otherwise.”  

“Wha—what…?” He shook his head quickly. “Urbosa, whatever you think you saw the other day isn’t what you think. [Name] and I are very obviously not dating, or seeing each other, or whatever your proper terminology is.”

“You both are very obviously into each other. You always hang out, you have cute banter. You’re dating, no?”

“NO!” He quickly shushed her comment, lowering his own voice and glancing around to see if anyone else was listening in. “The answer is NO because I don’t even like them that much. They’re very stupid, and unattractive, not to mention a Hylian. They’re an acquaintance at most. Maybe a friend.” He propped his own wing on the table and rested his beak on it. “Or close friend. A confidant...or—agh! Point is we’re not whatever you think we are!”

Urbosa let out a huff of air, letting her shoulders slump. “For a Rito, you are quite blind.”

He went for his cup again, fiddling with the chipped white paint that decorated the side. Revali didn’t bother to look up at Urbosa, for fear of unconsciously communicating something with his eyes. “Fine, then. Please, enlighten me into what I am so blind to.”

She furrowed her brows in confusion. Was he seriously not getting it? “You and [Name] seem to talk and visit each other all the time, considering you even know the staff here. You both have known each other since childhood, no doubt you’ve formed a bond. Both of you were so incredibly flustered just being in each other’s presence yesterday. Also,” she held up her head to imitate Revali’s posture, “You look pretty too!’ Does that comment ring any bells? Come on, Revali. And this is only the stuff I’ve seen in one day.” 

Shocked and speechless, Revali let the silence between them settle for a bit. He considered her argument, thinking over what to say next. “OK fine, I tolerate them. Sure. That doesn’t mean it happens both ways…”

The Gerudo Chief looked as if Revali had just told her that the current King of Hyrule was five stacked cuccos. “They practically invited you for a date earlier.”

“But, we do that all the time.”

“You do!?” it was Urbosa’s turn to be shocked.

“Wait,” Revali narrowed his eyes, wheels turned in his head. Did that time he invited [Name] to watch his archery practice count? Or when [Name] had baked him a fish pie when he came to visit them even though they were sick? Wait, wait, no. Friends do that all the time, that’s absurd. Yet, he couldn’t ignore the incessant fluttering in his stomach whenever he thought about braiding their hair...or laughing beside them...or— ah! What did it all mean? He scrunched his face in confusion, lowering his voice to a whisper, “Have we already...what does...are we dating?”

Urbosa held the bridge of her nose with her fingers, sighing. “Everyone with eyes can see it. You are.”

Revali practically squaked. “WE’VE BEEN DATING?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, you’re... dating Urbosa?”

Both Revali and Urbosa whipped around in unison to face [Name], who was standing behind them holding two hot bowls of spicy meat stew. 

Spirits bless his quivering soul, [Name] was here. There were still droplets of cider on his clothes, his braids were probably all frizzled from the trip down here. Was what he was wearing too formal? Too casual? Maybe he should have worn something more colorful. Hold on, was [Name] wearing their hair differently? When did they start wearing that yellow ribbon? It looked nice...should he say something? What was that new leather pouch on their belt, did someone give them that? Why all these changes? Are they seeing someone? Well it would be fine if they were...considering they were just friends. Right, they were friends— Wait a moment, did they just ask if he was dating Urbosa??

The Gerudo Champion, ever quick to regain her composure, was the first to respond. “Unfortunately, no. I’m afraid I’m a bit out of the Rito Champions league. We were talking about something else.”

The slight tension in [Name]’s shoulders relaxed, just barely noticeable. They chuckled, setting down the stews. “Ah-ha, well that’s good. Hylia knows Revali’s much more trouble than he’s worth.”

The Rito in question, who had still been sputtering over the several revelations he had come across over the last few minutes, finally regained the ability to formulate words. “...What? Hey! I’m right here!”

“Oh, sorry about that!” [Name] leaned down to face him, “I didn’t see you there. When you’re sitting down, you’re even shorter than usual! ” To further add to their quip, [Name] booped the tip of his beak with the end of a spoon. The feathers on his neck poofed up from embarrassment, though probably no one but him noticed. After placing napkins and silverware on the table, [Name] gave a deep, exaggerated bow. Their leather pouch hung out, half-open, revealing a few colorful hair ribbons. “Enjoy the meal, and thank you for staying with us, esteemed Champions,” their words were more of a tease towards Revali. “Just holler if you need anything, Revali! I’ll see you...later.” And with that, [Name] strode back outside, the brisk breeze fluttering the edges of their maroon tunic.

Revali’s thoughts were racing. Mainly centered around one word.

Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy

Urbosa looked at Revali, a twinkle in her eye. “Truly, you are made for each other. They’re the only one I’ve seen with the ability to actually make you shut up.”

Ignoring her comment, the Rito continued to stare at [Name] as she bantered with the other guests and workers outside. Then, he exhaled quickly, muttering comments that would make any mother click their tongue. Attempting to alleviate the tension, Urbosa asked, “Can I ask you a question?”

Quickly rebuilding his walls, Revali let out the usual quip. “You just did, but you have my permission to ask a secondary one.”

“Do you believe they like you back?” 

He rolled his eyes. “Ugh, spare me your useless fledgling gossip and prattle. What are you going to do, exchange handwritten love letters between us? Unfold the schoolyard drama? Maybe later we can skip around in circles as we talk about our crushes before bedtime.” 

She rolled her eyes. It might as well be an exercise when around Revali. “How about you answer the question?”

He turned away, looking outside and watching the dancing trees and people. “[Name] and I have been friends for years. I think I’d know if we had mutual feelings.”

Taking a napkin and placing it on her lap. She focused on enjoying her meal. “Oh but you do. You’re both clearly head over heels for each other already. Considering you're already basically dating.”

Turning back to face her, he started sputtering. “Wait, wait. Let’s back up, shall we? If we’re, as you said, basically dating, does that mean they know this? Do...do they already consider me their significant other? Do they know we’re…” he lowered his voice again, gesturing at himself wildly, “...you know.”

Urbosa slurped her stew, but held Revali’s gaze. She enjoyed its warmth and savory smell for several, several, several long seconds, still looking Revali in the eye. He spread his wings, exasperated. “Your condescending stares aren’t improving the situation.” 

Finally, she finished her sip, giving a satisfied sigh. The spicy taste tingled in her mouth. “Mmm. Delicious. [Name]’s cute and a good cook. You have good taste.”

“Did you just make a pun?”

“Pfft, like you haven’t done that before?” Revali responded with a grimace. 

The Rito asked again, “Can you just please take this seriously and help me with all this? You should already be flattered that I’m even bothering to continue this conversation with you. I don’t just babble about [Name] with anyone. So just...tsk...I don’t know, grace me with whatever wisdom you have.”

Urbosa raised an eyebrow, “Oh? Why should I? I’m not your mother or anything…” She flipped her velvet hair and looked away dramatically. Seems the Rito’s personality rubbed off on her.

Revali rolled his eyes, “Are you really going to make me—”

“Yes.” she said bluntly.

“Well, I’m not—”

“Hm?” 

“I said—”

“What?”

“Can you—”

“Yes?”

Revali sat there, eyes narrowed. Seems there was only one way he was gonna get her to talk. Urbosa gave a hearty laugh, her chocolate smooth voice echoing through the room. She kept her eyebrows raised, looking at him expectantly. After letting out another sigh, the Rito grumbled, barely opening his beak. “Can you please help me with all this...” Urbosa cupped a hand around her ear, a smirk plaster on her face. Revali quickened his speech. “...ugh you’re insufferable...considering you are the closest thing to a parental figure in my life and you’re more of an expert in this than I am, please tell me what in the hells I should do about [Name]—THERE! Happy?”

She started chuckling again, laughter must come easy for her. Shooting him a wink, Urbosa mused, “I think that’s satisfactory. Was that so hard?”

“Very.”

She snorted. Leaning back in her seat, she jeered him further. “Alright, maybe I won’t let you crash and burn this cute relationship of yours, considering it’s my responsibility to look out for all the little children in my life.” Revali scoffed.

Before he had the chance to nag her further, Urbosa continued. “So, Revali, from my own expert deductions on your whole,” she moved her spoon towards him in a circular motion, “situation, I’ve concluded that you’re both idiots.” He grumbled and shot daggers at her.

“Thank you. Very helpful.”

“You’re welcome. Now,” she set down her spoon, “Listen close and listen well, Revali. You’re both in the same boat here. [Name] didn’t react that badly at the prospect of you going out with me. However, their eyes immediately lit up when I clarified that you were not, infact, taken.  

“This means that they also don’t realize the obvious fact that you’re dating each other. Yet, they reacted with a hint of jealousy, so there’s no question they’ve got it for you.” Revali shifted in his seat, but allowed her to resume.

“They were completely oblivious to Daruk’s earlier comment about you being cute together. Yet, they’ve continuously made moves that suggest they really like you. Did you see their face when you put your wing around them yesterday?” She sighed. “ Who knows what other signs you’ve both been oblivious to all your lives.” Finally, she leaned forward and pointed a finger at Revali.

“You’re both too lovestruck to see how lovestruck your loves are for you.” Then, she went for her drink, sipping it slowly.

Taking her silence as a cue to speak, he asked softly. “Alright, so what do I do?”

“I don’t know,” was all that came from behind the cup.

He practically squaked again. “What? But? You just? Why—”

She held up a finger to shush him. “The best I can say is that you should probably openly confess so there’s not anymore confusion between you two fools. How, where, and when? Well that’s entirely up to you. Maybe at the party tonight you can whip up something.”

The likelihood of someone like [Name] showing up to a party filled with stuffy nobles, pestering fans, and overall loud people seemed slim. From experience, Revali probably thought [Name] would spend the night in the woods or something, searching for wildflowers. “I can assure you that’s not going to happen.”

Urbosa gave a final shrug. “Well then, good luck.” She went back to eating the rest of her meal.

Revali cast his eyes to the floor, deep in thought. What was he gonna do? 

Several minutes passed, and Urbosa basked in the rare occurance of the Rito Champion's silence. Thoughts and anxieties swarmed his head like bees to a courser honey comb. Then, the wind swept past the curtains and through the stable entrance, fluttering something under Revali’s foot. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a feather. It was a familiar deep blue, bordering on indigo, the edges were stroked with white. The color and hue was unmistakable.

Losing one or two happened everyday, sure, but what was peculiar was that this particular feather was that it seemed to be from a fledgling. The white marks faded to grey slightly, indicating the not yet fully formed colors of a young Rito hatchling. 

Tsk. I’ll admit I have youthful looks, but I’m not that young.  

Picking it up off the floor, he studied the stiff end of the feather, he was surprised to find it was decorated. A yellow ribbon was wrapped around its end. At one point, it was a brighter, daffodil like color, but now it had faded with time to a more pastel shade. The color matched well.

Why on earth does someone have my—

Suddenly, Revali stood up, almost flipping the table. “Hey!” Urbosa held the table steady. “Revali? Are you alright?”

Earlier, they were wearing a new leather pouch. It was half open, there were trinkets...ribbons inside.

“Revaaaaaaali?”

When they were joking around, they fake bowed. Did this...did this fall out?

“Are you alright? Where’d you get that feather? Is it yours?”

[Name] kept this? After all this time? That idiot, don’t they know about Rito custom by now? Someone might get the wrong idea.

Or the right idea...GAH! Whywhywhywhywhy—

Breaking his eyes away from the feather, he pushed in his seat and started to leave. “Well, you’ve had your free meal, hope your food was good Urbosa. Now I have to go.” Revali started shuffling out towards the exit, hastily shoving the little feather into his own pocket. “I’ll meet up with you at that idiotic party later. Right now I need to be somewhere.” 

Urbosa started to chuckle. “So, heading out early to your date?” Nearly outside, The Rito abruptly stopped and turned to face her. Her eyebrows were raised in suspicion. “And Urbosa, if you tell anyone at all, and I mean even the slightest whisper in the breeze, about our conversation, I have a bomb arrow nocked and ready for you.” He gave her a death stare, but she just laughed.  

Her chocolatey voice resonated through the air once more, laughter must truly come easy for her. After shooting him a wink, she smiled.

“Good luck, little Rito.”

- - - - - 

Ironic, that the Champion of the sky would frequent the area of his first failure. But, the woods had their own calm and beautiful atmosphere, made all the more pleasant when he and [Name] would hang out here through their childhood. Revali knew these trees all too well, from when he first crashed into them as a child to when he practiced his archery in the time before the Flight Range was built.

Walking along the dirt path, he spotted them up ahead. Their secret spot wasn’t that secluded, it was by a small grassy clearing within the forest. Tall pine trees swayed in the wind, the setting sunlight was cut apart by the shifting shadows. The rose, orange, and yellow light coated the sky and shimmered through the branches. The bushes during this time of year held small buds, some had already bloomed into more colorful yellow flowers, although most were still a young green. Kneeling on the ground [Name] was shuffling through a leather pouch, spilling the contents on the ground and searching for something among the mess. A few hair ribbons, a spare quill, a comb, empty elixir bottles, and other junk cluttered the forest floor. Sensing a presence behind them, [Name] spun around to find Revali, standing there with his wings folded behind his back. 

“I don’t suppose all that is to help the fertility of the forest?”

[Name] rubbed the back of their neck, brushing aside their hair, embarrassed. “No, I was just...organizing my things.” Trying to move the conversation away from that, they asked, “So, how’ve you been, Master Revali?” 

The Rito brushed his wings against the pocket on his side, where a certain item was tucked away. Tilting his head, he innocently asked, “Are you sure you weren't looking for something just now? We both know you have a habit of being terribly irresponsible.”

[Name] started to formulate an excuse at the tip of their tongue, but one glance at Revali’s expression told them it would be useless. “Alright, fine. Yeah, I lost something, but I’ll find it later. We don’t need to worry about it right now. Why don’t—”

“What did you lose?” He didn’t mean to come off so blunt, but he needed to know. He wanted to be sure. He needed to remove any doubts from his mind. [Name] gave a hasty shrug.

“Uh, just an old trinket. It’s nothing, really. It’s just this dumb thing I had as a kid—”

“So what is it?”

“Nothing! OK? You don’t need to push it, there’s no need to concern yourself with it…” their voice trailed off.

“Was it blue?”

Both their hearts stopped. [Name] suddenly looked up into Revali’s eyes. The looks they both gave each other confirmed their wordless questions. Letting the silence fall a bit longer, [Name] finally dared to whisper.

“How did you...?”

He reached for his pocket. He meant to do this confidently, to swoop in and present it with flair. Perhaps say a quip like “Aha! Of course you kept this. My feathers are of the most dazzling color and quality after all!” Yet, no words escaped his beak. He held out his feather, the pale yellow ribbon hung lazily in the wind. He held it out in front of him, his usual confidence left him. No need to get my hopes up early, just please tell me, if it’s true.

The feather stood between them, shifting back old memories. The sounds were only that of the forest. Crickets softly chirped, and the wind danced through the trees. The sunset trickled through the leaves. Revali let out a cough.

“Ah, well....I believe you left this at our table.” 

Neither of them made a move. [Name] was just standing there, bewildered, their gaze constantly shifting between Revali and the feather. They rubbed their boot on the ground awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Finally, the Rito started to speak again.

“Did you know—”

“Yeah,” they said. “Yes...I’ve known about the whole Rito culture thing since when we were kids. You exchange feathers to show that a piece of you is bound to that person for eternity. Then you can, like, braid it into their hair or something? You only do it with your soulmate, or significant other, or whatever the proper terminology is.” Memories started to stir in the back of Revali’s mind, but they continued, waving their hands in front of them in surrender. “I mean, when I first asked you for it, I had no idea about the custom. I just thought it looked nice,” they rubbed the back of their neck, their cheeks rosening. “When I got back to the stable, some elderly guy told me about it. But I didn’t have the heart to throw it away or anything. I just kept it under the floorboards so no one would find it. 

“Ah, but tonight there were so many people, plus the Champions… I thought it would be safer on me.” They gestured to Revali, “And, of course, I was wrong, haha….” They let their shoulders slump. “Goddess above, I’m sorry, this is so weird huh. I didn't want to tell you in case you...took it back. I probably should have, I don’t have the right to keep something that should be sentimental...but…”

Their voice trailed off. Revali continued to say nothing. Taking this as a cue to say something more, [Name] added, “I’m sorry, obviously when we were kids you didn’t mean anything that way. I should have told you sooner.” 

His heart was racing. Well, both of their hearts were. Taking in their words, Revali could feel his stomach start to flutter, the winds played with the end of his braids. Still holding the feather in front of him, he extended it towards them shakily. “Well, take it. It’s yours.”

They looked up from the ground in shock. “R-Revali! Don’t feel obligated to do anything just because I—”

“And there’s a comb among the junk you’ve littered on the forest floor, correct?”

They took a step back. “Wait, wait. Does this mean you—”

He suddenly took their arm and twirled them around, facing them away from him. “Yes, now sit down already. I’m not gonna do this standing.”

His feathers were poofed out, from the mixed emotions of pride, embarrassment, and adoration. Plopping [Name] in the grass, he went over and picked out the wooden comb among their belongings. 

Seeing [Name] about to churn out more excuses and questions, he held up his wing to shush them. “Shut up will you? This is long overdue.” He sat down behind them, the grass prickling against his feet. Revali started to carefully undo the yellow ribbons in [Name]’s hair. Softly, they asked “So for you, how long? When we were kids? Teens?”

“A while,” he simply stated. “It just took me some time to really accept it I suppose.” Silence overtook them once more, though its atmosphere was much more pleasant and warm. Parting their hair into sections, Revali started to lighten the mood with a quip.

“Did you know we’ve already been dating over the last few years?”

“What?!”

“Yeah, you’re pretty much an idiot for not seeing it. I mean, all those times we’ve been in each others’ company. I don’t know how you’ve gone this long without realizing.”

They laughed. “Maybe the idiot Rito I’ve been hanging out with rubbed off on me.”

“Maybe.”

Finally, he placed the feather within their hair. After braiding it halfway, he twisted the yellow ribbon with it, and finished off the braid. The colors of his feather and the ribbon matched perfectly.

“Is it done?”

Before he could give an answer, [Name] brushed their hand against their hair. They both sat there, in the grass, for another eternity. Suddenly, [Name] turned around, and planted their lips on his beak. After releasing him, they stared into each other's eyes for a moment. “Heh, I’ve been waiting a long time to do that.” they mused. “What’s with the look? Should I enlighten you on the Hylian custom then?”

His feathers were now fluffed up mainly from embarrassment, but he regained his composure at their smile. “I’m quite aware of what a kiss is. It’s just that Rito have something better.”

Revali wrapped his wing around the back of their head, moving it gently towards his. Pressing their foreheads against each other, they both smiled, half flustered. His soft face tickled their skin, but they smiled for more reasons than that.

“This works too.”

“Of course, I’m an expert at this sort of thing.”

A beat, and then they both laughed. The sun was almost completely swallowed by the horizon . The Rito Champion was probably going to miss the party, but it didn’t matter. He was busy with more important matters, anyhow.

[takerfoxx]

Jurassic Park 4: Doki Idol Live Festival!

magic5ball submitted:

Remember how you asked me about my idea for a Jurassic Park sequel? Well, here you go:

The two velociraptors stood outside a pastel colored town house in Hokkaido prefecture, Japan. If any passerbys thought that was weird, they certainly didn’t show it. Probably because the raptors were wearing fedoras and fake mustaches, so they looked like humans. Also they had guns. Very cool, very intimidating mobster guns. A tommy gun and a sawed-off shotgun, respectively.

You needed guns, to survive Shinzo Abe’s little empire of vice and socialized medical care.

“So this is the place, huh?” muttered the velociraptor carrying the sawed-off shotgun. His thick Brooklyn accent hung in the air like concrete. “Kinda… frillier than I was expecting.”

“It better be.” Replied his companion, who sounded like your racist conservative uncle trying to impersonate that one cool guy from ‘The Godfather’ (You know, the one with the mustache who was played by Robert de Niro). “We hadda kill a whole lotta people to get this hellhole.”

Sawed-off shotgun licked his non-existent lizard lips

“But hey. That airplane stewardess tasted mighty fine goin-“

“Oh, for f*ck’s sake, would ya stop thinkin’ with your stomach and help me with this f*ckin’ knob!” cried tommy gun, trying to work the doorknob best he could with his raptor claws, which, in all honesty, wasn’t much, because raptor claws are terrible at operating things meant for human fingers. Little did he know, the door was a ‘pull’, not a ‘push.

At least he didn’t have to wait long before someone unlocked the door from the other side: another velociraptor, this one a bit on the short side. And p!ssed. Very, very p!ssed. You could tell he was the cool one because he wore an eyepatch over one eye. An eyepatch with a Captain Underpants logo on it.

“Didn’t your parent’s ever teach you idiots about using the doorbell?! I was just about to enjoy lunch with my beautiful wife and you-!“

He paused, recognizing the two figures facing him.

“Well, well, well” Said tommy gun, cocking his weapon “If it isn’t SWEET JOHN HAMMOND’S BALLSACK WHAT THE F*CK AM I LOOKING AT?!”

For the cool raptor was dressed in a gothic Lolita maid outfit, complete with a bonnet and penny loafers. Under his arm he carried a human sized pillow depicting what appeared to be a blonde floozy with massive tits.

 “Oh this? This is Mami Tomoe, my beautiful wife.”

“WHAT THE F*CK!?!?” Tommy gun pulled out a flask off orange Fanta from his butthole and drank the whole thing in one go. He did NOT have time for this homosexual weeaboo nonsense! Still, he and shotgun hadn’t left a mountain of corpses the exact height and width as Mt. Fuji behind them. Too many to go back to Isla Nublar empty handed. Er, clawed. Because they were dinosaurs. Who have claws.

Shotgun took a deep breath. “What the Boss means to say is, ‘May we take refuge in this fine establishment?’”

Cool raptor opened his mouth to reveal a pistol he’d hidden there. And by hidden I mean replaced his tongue with it.

“You know, for all crap you guys used to give me in the past, I oughta pump you full of lead right here and now. Buuutttt… the lady of the house is present, and I’m not in the mood to create more work on her end. So come on in! You’re just in time for lunch.”

Lest they attract unneeded attention, the three dinosaurs hopped inside.

.   .   .

Lunch was omurice boba tea with a bottle of teriyaki sauce on the side. It was just boba tea, but the boba had been replaced by omurice because F-Bomb hated the flavor of boba, which he likened to rabbit crap. The teriyaki sauce was teriyaki sauce.

It was the most racist thing shotgun had ever eaten.

“Well, now that you jerks have gotten a taste of my sloppy seconds, I suppose some introductions are in order. You’ve already met my lovely wife” Cool raptor gestured to the body pillow seated next to him “So that leaves you two. Mami, meet A-Hole and D-Bag. A-Hole’s got the tommy gun, D-Bag is ridin’ her sawed off shotgun, as always. They’re old… acquaintances of mine.”

“He.” Corrected D-Bag. “I’ve been using he/him pronouns six months now.”

“Well that’s an improvement. Now instead of bein’ the Boss’ side B!tch literally, you’re just his b!tch figuratively!”

“Well screw you too, F-Bomb!” laughed the boss. “An’ speakin’ of screwing, what’s with the fruity get up? You a prostitute now or something?”

 “Even better! This might surprise you, but I’ve got legitimate work now. This here’s my uniform, my uniform for MILF TIDDIES!”

A-Hole chugged his entire bottle of teriyaki sauce in one go, lest his mind implode from the sheer stupidity of that sentence.

“The Hell’s a milf tiddie!?”

“Only the best freakin’ maid café in Hoikaido, hookers!”

He gestured to a wall, covered in hundreds of photos of cute floozies dressed like they were attending a vampire’s funeral. Among them was a photo of F-Bomb in his drag, serving a deep fried hot dog to some elderly Japanese dude.

“As you can see, yours truly is serving Japan’s national desert to none other than 57th Prime Minister of Japan Shinzo Abe!”

“Hold it up. Youse been hobnobbing it with politicians?!”

“I wish! You’re thinking of Shinzo Abe, 57th Prime Minister of Japan. This guy is his twin brother. Still pretty sweet though. We DID win a Grammy for that, after all.”

A-Holes eyes bulged out of his scaly raptor head.

“YOUSE WON A GRAMMY FOR THAT?!”

“Dang right! Milf Tiddies has won sixteen Grammys since I started working there!” He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. A very special piece of paper, if the six holes punched into it were any indication. “Did you know that if you win ten Grammys in a row, they give you a free orphan? That’s how the wife and I got our glorious daughter, Lil’ Nagisa!”

F-Bomb pulled a faded photo out of his wallet. A photo showing himself, his pillow wife, and a smaller body pillow of a ten-year-old moeblob wearing a Green Bay Packers cheesehead helmet.

“So youse couldn’t even conceive your own kid?” Inquired D-Bag sexily. He was munching his omurice slowly, so F-Bomb knew he was being serious.

“Are you implying I have sex with my own wife, you sick freak?! I’m a weeaboo, not some degenerate anime fanboy! Get it straight!” He instinctively cocked the pistol in his throat. It was awesome as hell.

In response, D-Bag pumped his shotgun. Loudly.

“Permission to put the sick freak out of his misery, Boss?”

“Firstly, don’t call me Boss when we’re not having anal sex. Second, no can do, my spicy lover. We need F-Bomb alive.”

F-Bomb heard all of this even though A-Hole whispered it, but he pretended not to make A-Hole feel clever.

D-Bag mumbled about how the Boss was lucky he was so mind blowing in the sack, otherwise he would have left the relationship long ago. The sack in this case being a really kinky sex dungeon. Like really kinky. So kinky even Donald Trump wouldn’t go within a mile of it. D-Bag had almost died of autoerotic asphyxiation more times than I’ve gone to the bathroom in my lifetime. That’s why he was the smartest dinosaur out of the three of them. Now where was I again?

Anyway, F-Bomb interrogated

“Alright guys, what’s the deal? I know folks who come to this socialized medical care infested hellhole, and they don’t come here just to eat omurice boba tea. You WANT me for something.”

He cocked his mouth-pistol again. Sparks flew all over the carpet, which was made of alpaca fur so it didn’t catch fire.

A-Hole scandalously kept his cool.

“It’s about Isla Nublar.”

The second those words left A-Hole’s lips, F-Bomb escorted his wife out of the kitchen, but leaned her against the kitchen door, because that’s what she would have wanted.

“Well what about it? I told ya guys, I’m done with that dump.”

“They’re puttin’ the screws on us, F-Bomb. Making us pay for eating those tourists back in the nineties.”

“And what makes you think I care? Like I said, I’m done with that place. I got a wife and kid now.”

“But F-Bomb, doesn’t the Park mean ANYTHING to ya!? What about the time we ate that park ranger that called you a girl? ‘Better than sex’ I recall you saying.”

“Nice try, but I’m not exactly in the mood to get misgendered again. Don’t you guys got any ideas that don’t involve me?”

“As a matter of fact, yours truly had this really spectacular one!”

D-Bag did a hand gesture wherein he constantly crossed his dinosaur claws across his throat rapidly in quick succession. A-Hole, being very smart, knew this meant he should continue, loudly enough so that everyone in the prefecture could hear.

“It was called ‘Trump Ballz’. We’d harvest Donald Trump’s testicles, see, and sell them to the highest bidder, so they could do whatever people do with lopped off testicles. I’m not one to judge. It was a terrific idea. I know because when I told my best friend Donald Trump about it, he said, ‘A-Hole, this is an incredible idea. Absolutely terrific! This is probably the best idea in America! You are very smart, very intelligent dinosaur! I oughta buy you a prostitute!’ Of course, we didn’t realize that Trump’s ballz don’t grow back when you lop them off. Did you know that by the way? Human testicles don’t grow back-“

F-Bomb cocked the pistol inside his throat gain, getting the Boss to shut up. This was probably the most heroic thing anyone had ever done in the history of the universe. He also asked a question:

“SO WHAT THE HECK DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH ME?!”

A-Hole vomited a severed arm and a pamphlet onto the table.

“EVERYTHING, ya WEEB trash!”

The pamphlet was for something called the Doki Idol Live Fest- DILF, for short. F-Bomb was no stranger to the DILF, but they had parted ways years ago. Six, to be exact, when he had buried Nico Yazawa’s still screaming corpse by the side of the highway. And neither was he stranger to the prize.

It looked like a beer and soda drinking baseball cap, but only to complete idiots who didn’t know crap about the Idol Life.

And F-Bomb wasn’t one of those people, er dinosaurs.

“THE MCGUFFIN OF SIN?!”

“Dam* straight! And like it or not, youse the only one with enough idol know-how to help us win it! Thing’s worth, like, a zillion dollars.”

A zillion in this case was equivalent to half a million. Still, isn’t that impressive?

F-Bomb stuck his nose in his omurice and snorted, a common intimidation tactic among velociraptors. I know because I read  it in the Scientific American.

“Sorry, guys, but even with that on the line, no can do. I’m DONE with the Idol Life, any I’m not letting you filthy casuals drag me back in.” He cocked the pistol in his throat. “NOW SCRAM!”

A-Hole and D-Bag jumped out a window, so they could get the jump on a feral dog humping its’ owner. Nobody realized they were dinosaurs because of their fake mustaches, so it looked like a pair of mobsters were eating a puppy.

When they were gone, F-Bomb pranced to the bathroom, which was filled with plush alpacas he had collected over the years. So many, in fact, the bathroom did not meet OSHA compliance. Which was why F-Bomb had made it an independent nation state, only to realize that OSHA didn’t apply to him anyway, since he lived in Japan.

He had felt really stupid after that, but at least he got his own country out of it.

Anyway, he vomited sixteen liters of blood into the sink, for F-Bomb had a secret: he was dying. Back when he was a fetus in an egg in a lab on some island in the Caribean, he’d become addicted to the illegal street drug known as WEEB, and frequent use had poisoned his lungs. The doctors had given him Socialized Medical Care and four more years to live. The WEEB had taken eighty years off his life. Socialized Medical Care had borrowed his lawnmower and never given it back.

But F-Bomb also had a dream: he and his wife were going to build their own maid café, and it would be even better than MILF Tiddies. He’d already picked a title: DILF Tiddies, and it was going to be the greatest food-selling establishment in the history of Japan. Omurice boba tea was going to go global. But he’d never get the funds on time, not on his meager salary. Unless…

His beautiful wife greeted him as he exited the bathroom.

“Get a pen and some razor blades, sweetgums. I’ve got a letter to send.”

.   .   .

The message arrived in the neck of a mailman’s severed head. This is the traditional way velociraptors send letters to each other. I read it in a book.

D-Bag didn’t see the letter, but the look on A-Hole’s face told him everything.

“What’d I tell ya, D-Bag? Like I always say, when you’re dino you’re dino all the way, till youse dead in the ground or youse come out as gay!”

“Yeah, we really need to update those lyrics.”

End Chapter 1

...I cannot for the life of me decide if this is the greatest thing I've ever seen or the worst, but it at the very least had me staring speechless at my computer screen for a long time.

[violetwolfraven]

Prank War

@asexualbert requested redfinch and I think platonic ralbert too so here goes I guess.

((This takes place pre-canon. I know almost nothing about any of the character’s canon backstories, so I made up things to fill in blanks. I heard a thing saying Finch was Brooklyn in the original movie, so idk...))

Warnings: Q-slur, period-typical homophobia, a little bit of internalized homophobia I guess.

...

“Oh, Albie!”

Great. Albert was not in the mood to talk, currently, but this was just how it was, being Racetrack Higgens’ best friend.

“What is it, Racer?”

“Guess what I did?”

“Hmm... let me think. Did ya ask someone out?”

“Who do you thinks I am? Romeo?”

“Well, you flirts like him, so sure.”

“Funny. Everybody get a load of the comedian over here! He might as well get a new career slingin’ jokes!”

“Ey, I could if I wanted to.”

“Sure. You’s about as funny as Wiesel.”

“Seriously though,” Albert said, “What did you do?”

Usually, if Race joked this much, it was because he was deflecting around something while desperately hoping someone would figure out that he really did want to talk about it.

And, usually, this was Race’s way when he had a crush, or had done something moderately illegal. Not that Albert was judging. Pretty much all the Newsies had done something illegal at least once, even over in Manhattan. Hell, even Crutchie had hit a cop with his crutch, once, when he and Jack got in a tight spot.

Or... there was one more thing this could possibly be. Only... no.

“Please tell me ya didn’t.”

Race shrugged innocently, “I did.”

“It’s only been a few months since the last one!”

“And it’s been all quiet-like around here since! We all needs a good shake-up occasionally!”

Albert groaned. As much as he loved Race as his best friend, he absolutely hated when he started prank wars.

The first time, it was funny. The third time, it was still mildly amusing, but mostly annoying. By the seventh time, it was just plain annoying.

But, the younger Newsies loved it, and most of the older ones enjoyed the opportunity to harass each other without any risk of a soaking. If someone pranked you, you pranked them back, but nobody got hurt. That was how it worked, until the war had been dragging on a couple weeks and everybody got bored with it.

At least until Race decided to start a new war.

In the several years Albert had known him, this was going to be the eighteenth prank war Race had started.

“Well, who’d ya prank this time?”

Race grinned, “Spot Conlon.”

“What?!”

Albert yelled it so loud that pretty much everybody came running, wondering what was going on.

“What’s up, Albert?” Jack asked, “Heard yellin.’”

Albert glared at his best friend, “Racer here has started another prank war. And do ya want to tell the gang who you pranked to start it?”

Race shrugged, “Well, I just put a frog in his pillowcase, so it ain’t nothing serious.”

“Ain’t nothing serious?” Albert demanded, “You put a frog in Spot fuckin’ Conlon’s pillowcase!”

Immediately, everyone started yelling at Race, demanding to know how he could be so stupid, why he would do that, and a few asking how Spot had reacted.

Albert, of course, knew that since Race was friends with just about everybody from every borough, Spot couldn’t hurt him without other boroughs trying to hurt Brooklyn in retaliation. And besides, Race had even managed to get close with the King of Brooklyn, so it wasn’t like there was really any risk, but still.

Pranking Spot fucking Conlon was a stupid-ass move.

“Don’t worry!” Race said confidently, “He hadn’t found it yet when I left but I’s left him a note explainin’ the rules. This’ll be the first inter-borough prank war! It’ll be fun!”

The worst part was how some of the Newsies actually seemed to be agreeing that a prank war including the Brooklyn boys would be fun.

Everyone looked to Jack. It probably wasn’t too late for him to just go over to Brooklyn, apologize, and end the whole thing, but would he do that? It seemed like the smart thing.

Jack shrugged, “Long as nobody gets hurt, like always, should be fine. Might actually be fun.”

Race grinned. A few, Albert included, groaned.

This was going to be a long couple weeks.

...

“So, you don’t seem that thrilled with Racer for startin’ this.”

Albert happened to be in Jacobi’s that day, grabbing some water, when most of the Newsies weren’t. The only other one there was Finch.

To be honest, Albert didn’t actually know Finch that well. He knew he’d showed up a couple years ago and was sarcastic 90% of the time, (not that Albert blamed him for that. He was sarcastic a lot, too.) but he usually hung out with Henry or Sniper and Smalls, and Albert usually stuck with Race, and Romeo and Specs.

The prank war had started last night, and so far, no one, Brooklyn or otherwise, had made another move.

“I’m not,” Albert admitted, “Racer has a habit of bein’ stupid for no reason.”

“I don’t think Spot’ll hurt him.”

“Oh, he won’t.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“This is the second prank war this year and it was only funny the first few times.”

Finch laughed, “You tells it like it is, even about your own best friend, huh?”

“Well, we all know Race talks shit about me, so...”

Finch laughed again, and the twinge in Albert’s chest made him wonder why he was even here.

True, the Newsies were all pretty close. Close enough to at least vaguely know each other’s triggers and what kind of touches everyone was okay with, to count on each other in a fight, to openly know and keep the secret when two boys or two girls started going out... But they still had regular groups or pairs they stuck to. It was inevitable with a friend group that big.

So, why would Finch be straying from his? Was this a prank?

Seeming to sense his thoughts, Finch cleared his throat.

“So... I’s came here today wondering something. If you wanted to be allies.”

Albert was confused, “What?”

“Allies. We prank other people but don’t prank each other.”

“Don’t work like that. Everybody pranks everybody in a prank war.”

“I know,” Finch admitted, “But this time, it’s different, see? This time, we’s up against Brooklyn and Manhattan. And I used to be a Brooklyn boy, so I can tells ya we’s all gonna need friends in a war against them.”

“A prank war,” Albert corrected, “There’s rules for this. Nobody gets hurt.”

“You seriously think all them Brooklyn boys are gonna follow that?”

Albert hadn’t thought of that. He’d been thinking in terms of Spot Conlon, who wouldn’t hurt them because he was so close with Race. But some of his boys definitely would take a chance to soak someone for no reason and call it a prank.

“I know I can’t count on Henry for this,” Finch said, “I’s already asked, and he’s too stupid to see how dangerous this could get. And Sniper and Smalls only ally with each other. I’m askin’ you cause you seem like the smart kind who knows when not to go it alone.”

Aw, what the hell? Albert had never had an ally in a prank war. Maybe this would make it less annoying and more fun.

When Finch spat into his hand and held it out, Albert accepted the spit shake.

...

Unfortunately, Finch was right.

A week into the prank war, and Henry wasn’t hurt bad, when some Brooklyn boys gave him a black eye calling it a prank, but he could have been. Jack had decided not to tell Spot about it, instead giving the Manhattan boys permission to actually hurt people back instead of just the bare minimum defend themselves.

Knowing Spot had ears everywhere, they could only hope that knowing Manhattan was actually allowed to hurt in self defense would deter any Brooklyn boys looking for an easy target.

Of course, this meant that the ones like Jack, Sniper, Finch, Blink, etc, had to teach everyone else to fight at least a little, but it was working out alright so far.

“I don’t see why anyone would wanna soak someone for no reason,” Albert commented, when he and Finch were hanging out in an empty Lodging House. They’d gotten done earlier than anyone else that day.

“It ain’t that simple.”

“How ain’t it?”

Finch shrugged, “All the Brooklyn boys who’s rough is rough for a reason. Some of ‘em had bad folks. Some of ‘em, Spot found in a gang or somethin.’ Some spent time in the Refuge. Some grew up on the streets. All them rough ones grew up so’s they don’t know how to be anything else.”

“Blink’s folks were bad,” Albert pointed out, “Race was in the Refuge for a while. Crutchie grew up on the streets. They all turned out alright.”

“Yeah, cause Jack was there to help ‘em.”

Albert didn’t know how to respond to that.

Finch sighed, “Albert, you don’t get it. Here, everybody’s family. We talk stuff out. In Brooklyn, you got anger problems, Spot just tells ya where to aim it. Ya heal on your own or not at all. That’s just how it works.”

“Is that why you got out?” Albert asked.

He only vaguely remembered Finch coming to the Lodging House. One day, Jack had just introduced him, told the others Finch was one of theirs, now, and given him a bed. Nobody had questioned it, because when Jack didn’t immediately tell someone’s past, it usually meant it wasn’t one that should be asked about.

Finch shrugged, “I got tired of needin’ to be strong all the time. Spot protects who he can, but he���s got a lot more guys than Jack. Most of the time, you gotta protect yourself. Need to make sure the other guys don’t see you as weak. I guess Race noticed I wasn’t cut out for it. Told me I should come over to Manhattan.”

“What made you actually do it?”

Finch hesitated.

“Hey,” Albert said firmly, “Finch, you can tell me anything. Like you said, Manhattan is family.”

The other boy took a deep breath but still didn’t say anything.

“That bad, huh?”

Finch sighed, “I did it because Spot said I had to get out while I could. He said some rough boys got wind about me... about me bein’ queer. He told me to run to Manhattan.”

Albert nodded. He hadn’t expected that, to be honest, but it wasn’t like he could judge.

“Okay. That it?”

Finch seemed relieved, but Albert didn’t really know why. It was common knowledge that several pairs of the Manhattan boys were together, and most of the few girls had paired up with other girls.

“Yeah,” he said finally, “Ya know, Spot can’t be caught supportin’ queers. He’d be dead by the next dawn. Guess the guys who figured out ‘bout me weren’t sure enough to do anything. Still, Spot probably saved my life by tellin’ me they knew. I told my old Brooklyn pals it was cause I had a girl who got sick and died.”

Albert did remember that Finch had come during a cold winter. His Brooklyn friends would have bought it.

“Well, that ain’t gonna happen, here,” he said firmly, “If it was dangerous for queers here, Jack woulda had to kick himself out.”

“Shit, you serious?”

“Course. What did ya think Blink and Mush had goin’ on?”

Finch laughed, “Kinda assumed Jack didn’t know about it.”

“Cowboy is oblivious, but not that oblivious.”

Finch laughed again, and Albert tripped over his next breath.

Aw, hell. Why not?

“And uh...” Albert hesitated, “If Jack was in the business of kickin’ out queers to protect ‘em... he’d have to kick me out, too.”

Finch looked at him in surprise, “Albert—“

They both heard the Lodging House door close loudly, then someone cursed loudly. Definitely not Kloppman.

When he looked at him, Albert didn’t think he’d ever seen Finch so scared.

“I know that voice,” he said quietly, “We needs to hide.”

Albert didn’t question it, just pulling Finch into a broom closet at the end of the bunk bed rows.

Kloppman would be back soon. He’d only gone out on a brief errand. With homefield advantage, Albert and Finch should be able to stay hidden long enough to survive.

“Come on, Snitch, you gots to be quieter than that.”

“Ey, Muddy, I know that fuckin’ queer, Finch, is here. We just gots to find him.”

“What makes you think he’s alone?”

“If he ain’t, we’ll just get rid of whoever protects him, too.”

Their laughter made Albert want to punch something.

Finch was breathing quickly, shaking like a leaf. No one should be able to make him afraid like that.

“Hey,” Albert whispered, “Finch, calm down. It’s okay. They’s not gonna find us. They won’t hurt you.”

“This closet ain’t hidden enough.”

“I remember Muddy and Snitch,” Albert insisted, “They’re dumb as horse shit on the pavement. We just gots to stay quiet and wait for Kloppman to get back.”

It couldn’t be long now, but Finch was clearly too scared to think clearly.

There wasn’t much light in the closet, but Albert grabbed the sides of Finch’s face, digging his fingers into his hair to force the taller boy to look at him.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he murmured, “They won’t find us. Finch, breathe.”

Finch took a deep breath, looking Albert in the eye.

“They won’t hurt you,” he said again.

That was when Finch kissed him, grabbing onto Albert’s wrists to keep him close.

Albert was... surprised, to say the least, but he certainly wasn’t complaining, doing his best to stay silent as he kissed him back.

They pulled apart when they heard Kloppman come in. There was yelling downstairs, and the door slammed. Clearly, the Brooklyn boys weren’t willing to risk tangling with an actual adult, even one that Albert didn’t think could actually fight.

“Hey, anybody here?” he called upstairs, “Anyone wanna explain why I just kicked out two Brooklyn boys?”

“Not that I really wants to, but we should probably get out of the closet,” Albert suggested.

Finch laughed, opening the door.

“It’s probably better ya don’t know, Kloppman!” Albert shouted down the stairs.

“Albert? That you?”

“Finch, too!” Finch shouted.

“Okay! And... be careful, boys! Be discreet!”

Albert stifled a laugh. He’d always suspected that Kloppman knew about the various same-sex pairs, but this was the first real evidence he’d seen.

“So, I takes it this ain’t a prank?” Finch asked.

Albert shook his head quickly, “Not on my end. If it was a prank on yours, you don’t really know what a prank is. I enjoyed that way too much for a prank.”

“Glad we agree.”

“So,” Albert said, sitting down on his bunk.

Finch grinned as he let Albert pull him down next to him, “So.”

“Are we still allies?”

“Hope we’s more than that.”

Albert laughed before leaning forward to kiss Finch again.

[pinkrae]

Can’t fake love || Epilogue

--- Previous

“Are you ready to go?” Damian asked as he stepped through the door she had opened only to rush back to the bedroom.

“Just getting my shoes!” Raven called out and emerged once again soon after. 

“Are they comfortable?” He asked casually, looking down at the white flats that she had picked out for herself just a few days back. They looked nice with the light blue dress and white jacket she’d put on. It was almost funny, actually, now that he realized that the dress matched his shirt.

“They are. Why?” An eyebrow raised in mild confusion.

“Just asking.” A shrug rolled off his shoulder before he nodded towards the door. “Let’s go?”

Nodding, they both headed outside. It was a warm day, which was unusual for this time of year, but Raven was definitely glad about it. Especially because Damian had suggested walking to this retro diner or whatever. He really tried his best to get her out of the apartment more and she appreciated it, even if it was a bit overwhelming at times. 

A part of her felt bad for still using Dick’s apartment, despite him saying that she was welcome to stay for as long as she wanted and the fact that the Titans had actually offered her room back at the Tower. But right now, she wanted to enjoy her new life. For the first time ever she had a chance to actually live. She wanted to use it for as long as she could. Try new things. Gain new experiences. Explore new places.

“You seem cheerful today.” After a while of walking, Damian broke the silence and brought her attention to him.

“Do I?” She asked, in an almost oblivious tone.

“Did something happen?”

“No. Nothing in particular.” She shook her head.

“Well, that’s an awful lot of smiling for nothing then.” He commented simply.

“Mm. Well, perhaps it just feels nice to smile. You should try it sometimes.” The corner of her lips curled into a grin as she teased him. 

“Tt.” A playful eyeroll. But he couldn’t help but smile. Even if it was internal. Seeing her like this warmed his heart. She’d been through so much after all. It was relieving to see she still found joy. And that, in return, made him happy as well. Most days he convinced himself that it was enough too. If she was happy, then so was he. But with every day that passed, he craved to be near her more and more. Despite his better, more rational, judgement, he’d been doing his best to keep close too. He told himself it was to keep an eye on her, to keep her safe, to make sure she didn’t suddenly start to turn into a demon… Any and all reasons to keep visiting. Their relationship was different than the one back then. But to what extent? He couldn’t quite tell. It was never clear. Partly because they chose not to talk about it. It was never brought up. They just… spent time together. And it seemed to be enough. But was it?

“Here we are.” Damian pointed to the diner and opened the door for her once they’d reached it. Walking in, it felt like they’d stepped into the 80s. The diner did indeed look like something out of a movie. It even had a jukebox right on the far side of it. They took a seat and ordered something for lunch. As they waited, Raven kept glancing around.

“So why this place?” She finally asked.

“No reason in particular.” He shrugged. “Just thought you might appreciate it, seeing that you like to check out interesting places.”

Her lips formed a smile and she held a brief pause before speaking again. “You’re always good to me.”

“I don’t know, am I?” His heart skipped a beat, but visually nothing changed in his calm exterior. Only his gaze averted from her to suddenly start looking around.

“You have been. Ever since I came back. You’ve always been there. I--” Raven continued slowly, stumbling on her words a little as she grew nervous. “You’ve done so much for me. I just feel like I haven’t done enough for you--”

“You’ve done plenty, Raven.” He was quick to disagree. God damn it, it wasn’t the time or place for this conversation. It almost irritated him that she brought these things up now. Couldn’t she have chosen a more quiet and private place? However, most of all… It hurt him to know that she thought she hadn’t done anything for him. She’d done so much more than she could imagine. If only she could see that. 

“It doesn’t always feel like it, you know.”

If only he could put that into words. 

“But thank you. I’m glad you don’t think I’m completely useless.” She chuckled silently.

If only he could show her that.

“I just want you to know that--”

His head suddenly shot back to her and he interrupted with “Do you want to dance?”

It completely took her aback and she stared at him in confusion for a solid minute, partly hoping for him to reveal he was only joking. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Am I ever not?”

“Well--”

“Yes, I’m serious.”

“But Damian”-- A chuckle of disbelief escaped her lips as she looked around-- “No one else is dancing.”

“It hasn’t stopped us before.” He grinned knowingly and extended his hand towards her.

“It hasn’t?” She raised an eyebrow, still not believing that this was actually happening. But Damian was absolutely serious about this. Every part of his being was serious, she could sense it. But why? Glancing down at the hand waiting to be taken, Raven thought for a moment longer before releasing a sigh in defeat. “Fine.” She held his hand and they both stood up from their seat, heading in the empty corner right next to the jukebox.

Luckily enough, the diner wasn’t actually too crowded. But the people that were there definitely caught interest in the young couple walking across the entire place over to the jukebox. It wouldn’t have been too unusual had they just gone there to change the song, but no. Still holding onto her hand, Damian’s free arm wrapped around her waist and gently pulled her closer to him. Her breath got stuck in her throat. His heart picked up its pace. Their eyes met. Her free hand softly landed on his shoulder. They both were nervous. He could hide it as much as he wanted. She knew he was nervous too. Pretty much everyone was watching them. Raven could practically feel their eyes on them as they started dancing.

“You don’t need to worry about anyone else.” His voice was low, but gentle.

“I know, but… Everyone is watching.”

“Does it matter?” He asked nonchalantly and it made her think. Did it matter? It was just two people dancing. Were they doing something bad? No. Were they doing something inappropriate? Also no. The jukebox was there. Why couldn’t they dance? Damian was completely right and… it actually astounded her that it was him, of all people, to do this.

“No.” She smiled a little and swayed with him in the rhythm of the song. Eventually the overwhelming sense of curiosity and judgement she felt in the room dispersed and she managed to relax in his embrace. Something about this was familiar. Like they’d done it before. Had they danced before? Was that the reason he asked her to dance? To possibly jog her memory? Somehow the thought of that soured this experience for her.

“Damian?”

“Hm?”

“We’ve done this before, haven’t we?” Her sad eyes met his, “Dance in public, I mean?”

“Mm.” He nodded. Although there had been a sliver of hope that she might remember something, he had to admit that it wasn’t the main reason he asked her to dance. “Would you believe if I told you it was your idea back then?”

“I would not.” She chuckled, but a hint of sadness still remained. “But I suppose, if it was for one of our fake dates, then--”

“Yes, we’ve done a lot of fake things in the past.” A small frown formed on his forehead. “Fake relationship. Fake dates. Fake names. But here’s the thing, Raven”-- He paused for a moment as he released her from his grip to twirl her around before pulling her back and pressing her close, his eyes looking directly into hers-- “You can’t fake love.”

Those words felt like a lightning strike right through her entire being. Her heart trembled and the longer she gazed into his eyes, the more she realized that he was being serious. That he just confessed his love to her. Finally. After all this time. Finally he didn’t dread the word. Maybe it had been foolish of her to wait for him to say it first, but oh was it worth it. She felt like she could scream, skyrocket into the air and sink into the ground all at the same time. The feeling was indescribable. But all she could realistically do was smile at him with the brightest smile he’d ever seen.

“No. You cannot.” She agreed with him and it finally clicked. Had he really been so blind to not see that she loved him too? All this time? God was he an idiot after all. Chuckling at his own stupidity, more than anything else, his arms fully wrapped around her as he slowly leaned in, stopping mere inches from her face as if asking permission to kiss her. Still smiling, Raven closed the gap between them and closed her eyes as they shared a passionate and long overdue kiss.

You’ve done plenty, Raven.

FIN

------

A/n: So that’s it, folks! Finally we’ve reached the end! And man what a journey it has been. This was my first big project that I’ve 100% completed and I’m so proud of myself. For some 14 chapters might not feel like much, but this was the biggest thing I’ve done, both in terms of length and the time it took me to write it, as well as in terms of popularity. The story reached so many readers and I’m thankful to each and every one of you! Thank you all for all the love and support, from the bottom of my heart <3 See you in the next one! Much love!

[midnight-lightning]

Piece of gold I Part 6

Loki x reader

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6

A/N: wow. That’s it. That’s the last chapter of piece of gold and also the longest one. Really I enjoyed writing this story so much.

And also enjoyed, no more loved all of the amazing reviews you wrote,

Really, thank you so much.

And now, i hope you enjoy this last part

Summary: You live your dream as a worker in the   royal library of Asgard, everything would have been normal if there   wasn’t a certain prince between the bookshelf’s who’s passion also   included books. Of course destiny has decided it was time to bring you two together…

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo "It might sting a little bit but just hold your breath, alright?" You placed the cotton with some alcohol on the wound of the small boy, who had gotten hurt during the battle. "Look! It's already over. There you go, you brave soldier." The boy murmelnd a shy thanks before he run in his mother's arms next to you. "Thank you for helping my son! The medicine hall is completely overfilled and we needed a healer." "It is a pleasure Ma'am. Though, we're not healers but could we help yourself in anyways?"You stated, touched by the woman's words. She stroke her boys hair with a small smile and answered, "No, I'm fine. What matters now is that we can finally go home. Thank you both again." Mealla next to you nodded seriously before she let out an exhausted sight. "That was everyone for now... I never thought I would ever experience something like that... well, at least the last time Asgard had been attacked Odin was here to defend our home." "I mean look at the library so many things, so many treasures are wasted and lost." Frustrated she put the medical utensils back in the bag we found in the remains of our office in the library. "Do not worry to much, Mealla. Asgard is build out of magic and the power of gods, I'm sure not everything is lost... you'll see we'll fix it." You stated, not really present with your thoughts. You just whisked you could do more... "We are you headed? Our rooms are that way", Mealla stopped you irritated once you both had left the room. You turned around to her, trying to avoid her eyes and bring out something believable. "Well..." Or just nothing at all... Great. Really what a great solution. "Oh, no. Don't say- Girl, it's in the middle of the night, no even the sun will soon shine again. You shouldn't-" "Believe me I should," you interrupted her, finally meeting her eyes.

The Mealla who's usually in top form and could work full three nights if she had to, looked after this single one nothing like her self. She was obviously drained but still managed to care for you and other people around a whole night long. And even her curiosity hadn't suffer. "Why?" "I- just... just to look if he's alright," you stuttered and looked somehow embarrassed down at your dress you'd worn to the ball. Well, you couldn't call this a dress anymore... "Please, Y/N, he is a god, also the prince of you didn't noticed. He has people who care for him and will be fine. Come on now I want to finally get some sleep before something new happen." She turned around and kept her way to her room, not stopping when you made your next decision. "Alright, but I'll come afterwards, okay?" Mealla sighted, but apparently put her sleep as her priority rather than to discuss further with you. "Fine, fine if you insist. But don't say I didn't warn you." Then she had vanished behind the corner. You took a deep breath and yawned. Yes, a little sleep would be nice. But you knew you wouldn't sleep a single minute. Not after what had happened yesterday. Not after you had witnessed Loki turning into a frost giant. The biggest enemies of Asgard. But this wasn't the real problem. It was rather the fact it seemed like you were disgusted by him. You had seen his gaze, when he had turned around loosing his transformation. A gaze you never wanted to see again and never should had appeared on his face. You made your way through the halls of Asgard, witnessed all the damaged the fight yesterday had cost this kingdom. So much dead and sorrow and pain. And at which cost? Why? What did the want here? When you entered the wing which lead to the royal chambers you were stopped by guards who suddenly pointed their weapons at you causing you immediately to raise your shaking hands and stepping back. "I- I want no harm, I swear," you stuttered, somehow feeing stupid. "I-I want to, no I need to speak to prince Loki." Forget it, now you were being stupid. Mealla was right! It's in the middle of the night, Asgard has been attacked and you appear at the royal chambers looking like you'd been overrun by a herd of horses and claiming you want no harm? Yesssss Of course, they'd let you visit the prince now also! Dumb, Y/N. Very, very dumb "I'm sorry miss but you have no permission to be in this section nor to enter the prince's rooms." One guard explained with a stern voice, but he lowered his sword, even if only a little bit. Told ya. Nevertheless you made one step forward, causing them to tense once again, but this time you didn't care. You just wanted to see him. "But sir,it's an emergency!" "Miss, you have to go now if you don't want to spent the next time in the dungeons," the other answered with a uncaring voice, but you knew the border was reached now. You couldn't do anything else, not with the guards looking at you like at an annoying child. So you gave up. For now. OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO The next morning -or rather only a few hours later- you awoke by something landing upon your face. And this time you hoped it wasn't once again a dead aspen. "Wake up! Hear me! Hello?? You'll miss the breakfast!" You groaned and simply turned around, pressing the pillow Mealla had thrown on your ears. "I'm not hungry." "Very well," you heard her mutter before your blanket vanished with one single tug and the sudden cold caused you to jump up. "What the hell, Mealla?!" You cried, trying to look mad at the woman but your eyelids just closed every time you wanted to open them. You heard her laughing. "You look like a troll, won't you want to shower a little bit, Alright? Ohw-!" She explained when your pillowed hit her on the head. "How could it be that you're already awake and be in this-"you let out a loud yawn on your way to the bathroom, "and be in this mood when you barely slept two hours?" You sighted when the cold water covered your face and all the bruises you get during the fight. Now you felt better, at least a little bit. "Well, what can I say? As the brilliant librarian manager I am i should be used to staying up late and waking up early. Besides, king odin called for everyone to rally outside for the mourning ceremony. He will explain everything that had happened last night." You stopped in you motion. "Really? Where do you know this from? Oh god, Mealla do you know if the queen-" "Frigga is fine. And so is Loki." You sighted in relief, it was a blessing that both of them of them had survived. You grabbed your clothes and started to change, while you waited for Mealla's answer in the bathroom. It was a wonder that these rooms had survived nearly unharmed, alike the royal wing. Only the central of the palace was in a bad state. "Unlike you, I was already outside of this doors and now hurry, I don't want to arrive late." You barely managed to brush your hair in an appropriate state when you were already dragged outside. "Your so slowly, you know that?" OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO Minutes later you arrived outside in the "garden"-if you could even call something as huge as this a garden. A field might fit better. The thing is, the great hall was completely damaged and not safe to enter, such as a lot of other section of the kingdom. Even if the horror only happened a few hours ago they managed to prepare and decorate this area with flowers, flags, chairs, also the columns contributed to the mood of sorrow and pain. And in this moment the things you unawarely hadn't processed came with such a power you gasped for air. No matter how hard you tried to stay calm, the realisation had grabbed you. You had had friends living here, how many of them would you see again? How many families were broken apart last night? How many people are still waiting and will be forever waiting for the loved ones to return? How many dreams were shattered and how many memories broken? Why? Why did it happen? What was the reason for this distraction? Odin's gaze was cold and emotionless as always. Out from the front he stared at his people, waiting for them to silence. He stood alone, without his queen or his sons. And when he started to speak his words contained sorrow. "Brave soldiers had fought for our lives yesterday, their lives. Lives that were taken by a folk called Aspen. Asgard would have come to an arrangement with the Aspen, when my son Thor and I myself set fourth last night. But we were mistaken by their true intentions-" The mission... That was the mission they excluded Loki from. But why... Wait, Odin wouldn't do it, would he? He wouldn't excluded his son just because he's a frost giant? Something told you, that Odin wasn't just the father that had the best intentions for his sons... Your thoughts strayed away and now turned to the man who appeared next to the king. Thor. He remained quite and fixed his gaze on a undefined point on the ground. "May their spirits and souls dwell on a place their bravery and good hearts deserve." The King closed his eyes and spoke a short pray we joined a moment later. The funerals will take place this evening, as always at the sea. A funeral in order to honour those who gave their lives for ours. Suddenly you felt a numb in your waist. You turned you head and noticed surprised next to Mealla her husband standing, drying his tears with a handkerchief. "What's the matter? You look a little bit displeased." You turned your gaze to Mealla. "Yes, but I don't think it's right that Odin doesn't even mention all the civilians who lost their lives. All the innocent people who weren't even involved. They and their families deserved to be at least being mentioned, an apology, anything by their king." She focused her gaze to the front. "Your right. And I don't think you're the only one with that opinion. Look." Your gaze landed upon the King once again, he's stopped with his speak and made room for Thor, who stepped next to him. His face was unreadable, also hard as Odin's but somehow in a different way. "It- It was foolish," he begun and you and Mealla exchanged a surprised glance. In all the speaks Thor already had, not once he had stuttered. He cleared his throat. "It was foolish of us to put our trust in a race as scheming as the aspens. And foolish to leave our folk during a time of happiness. During a feast which is a byword for safety, love and strength. And we owe to every man, every woman, every child and every family that get wounded more than just an apology. We can't undo this crime, but as the future king of Asgard I demand a funeral upon our holy lake for every single soul that gave their live for Asgard. And the wounded and retarded ones will be cared." He let gave us all a last glance full of sadness, before he left the front. And also the crowd dispersed. "I am certain that Thor will be a great long one day. He has a good heart," Mealla whispered. Yes, you were certain, too. You were proud of the prince. But now, it was time for you to make things right. May it be not the best moment for this, but who know when the next opportunity arrives... "Excuse me for a moment," you said to Mealla before you passed by her. "See you at the table later?" "Yes, of course!" You shouted before you focused on the blooms hair that went along the crowd. With mix emotions you hurried to him. Thor frowned when he recognised you informs of him. "Your majesty, forgive me but are aware of the whereabouts of prince Loki?" You asked, hoping he wasn't mad for disturbing him st this moment. "I'm afraid but I don't think it's a good idea for you to seek the company of my brother, right now." "What why? Is he alright? Did he get hurt?" "No, he did not get wounded physically. What do you need from him?" "I am- I have to speak to him." "I'm sorry but-" "Please,Thor!" You interrupted him. Your sudden outburst and the fact you forget the formality did Thor Falter in his motions. You took a deep breath before you awkwardly tried once again "I- i want to make things clear. The things that happened yesterday... it shouldn't have come that way... I shouldn't have... " you stopped. You didn't knew what to say, there were a lot of emotions in you right now you couldn't put into words. After a long pause in which he watched you with a serious expression and internally regarded your intentions he finally nodded. "Follow me." "Thank you." You answered with a relieved sight. You walked away from the place of the mourn ceremony, away from the garden and away from the entrance to the great hall. Thor lead you in completely silence through halls and corridors until you were completely certain to never being in this sections. The he stopped in front of a fountain on the wall, that were surrounded by stones and flowers and even two small trees. Suddenly the prince stopped infringe of you and blocked your view, the -only a few second later- the two trees reduced themselves and somehow opened a small gate in which you spotted the greenest grass you'd ever seen. What in Odin's- "It's the secret garden of my mother." Thor explained still focused on the entrance. Then his gaze landed upon you meaningful. "Don't make me regret my decision. In no ways." You nodded quite. Then with great caution you entered the garden and gasped in awe. Never in your whole life have you seen such beauty. There's no place in whole Asgard where the grass shines that green, or so many flowers grow. The small river that flowed through and which rustle of the waves calmed you in a strange way, contained such blue it couldn't be real. The birds in the trees sung melodies you've never heard but touched you deep in your heart. Suddenly you heard a rustling behind you and turned around in shock only to notice that the entrance was now closed again. But your intentions were not to leave yet. With a deep breath you turned around and flinched once more startled when you saw Loki standing in front of you. He seemed a little pale but apart from that he looked the same as always. He also wear that cold face of his, that made you swallow. "I don't think you're permitted do be here." Somehow you couldn't get your mouth to speak. You had prepared dozens of things you wanted to say, from the start to the end, ways to apologise and now- nothing. It opened and closed without any words. "You should go. Your not welcomed here," he said emotionless before he just left you alone. "I-I wanted to see you," you brought out weakly. He didn't stopped in his way so you just caught up to him. This time you won't let him go that simply. "You weren't at the ceremony." He remained quietly. No. You took a few fast steps and then stopped in front of him. To your big surprise he suddenly started to laugh. But it wasn't the kind of laugh you remembered. This one was cold and let you feel far far away from the Loki you spent so much time with. The Loki who had earned a place in your heart. "What is your intention, woman? Do you think you could stop me? You're not in the position-" "I'm sorry." He remained in his motion for a second before he rose his eyebrow in annoyance. "Loki, I'm so so sorry. It was wrong of me to walk away and let you alone. I shouldn't have just left you there when you literally just saved my life. So many lives. I-" "Left me alone?" You closed your mouth abruptly. Then frowned. "Let me put this straight. You came here to apologise for leaving me alone after the battle?" "Yes, and I know it was a mistake-" "Y/N, i literally used my powers in a brutal way and transformed into a frost giant which are -if I could notice here- a part of the cruelest monsters and enemies of Asgard and all you care about is that you left me alone?" You were uncertain of what to say in this moment. Did you hurt him even more? "Loki, by all means you're not a monster." He let out a dry laugh. "I'm not? Well, surprise but here I am. Odin's adopted bastard son. You should go now, if you have the tiniest bit of a brain." You shook your head with such power you thought it'd fell off. You took a step forward and wanted to lay a hand on his shoulder, but he caught it before you could even touch it. "You, my dear prince, are many, many things but for certain you are not a monster, you hear me?" "I don't think you have any idea about what you're talking that foolish about, woman." When you opened your mouth for an answer he slightly bowed his head forward and looked at you with a hard expression. "Why are you really here?" Haven't I... just told you? "I wanted to apologise." "I asked you why are really here?" "Fine! You want the truth?" You exclaimed, becoming more and more frustrated "Well, here it is." "The truth is, the first time I met you in the library I thought I'm gonna lose my shit. You were sitting there, the freaking prince of Asgard, quietly reading in the corner, as if nothing could bother you. The second time you found me sitting in the corner, reading the book you loved. And even if I hadn't finished I gave it to you, course but you gave it back to me. And I spent all night reading it in order to return it to you as soon as possible. I was new in this palace. I was warned. I was warned to keep a distance to the god of mischief, been told so many stories about you and I'm certain 99 percent weren't even close to the truth. And never the less, here I was the third time I met you, spending a god damn night talking about books and stories and life and morals with you. And you know why? Because I didn't care. I didn't care in that moment that you were the prince, I didn't care that you were literally Loki the god of mischief and could turn me with one snap of you fingers into a frog or what ever. All I saw in that night and all I saw the next time we spent together, was a man which showed me a new perspective of life, who understood me in a way nobody else seemed to, and a man with whom I could forget everything and just enjoy life. Because you," with a firm glance you pricked your finger on his chest. "You are a good man, Loki. And I couldn't care less if you were a frost giant or an aspen or whatever. All one needs to know about you is here," you pointed to the place where his heart is. "And nowhere else." When you stopped your outburst, you glanced on the ground, with a heart beating so loud Loki had to hear. There was silence for the next couple of moments. But then you looked up. You expected him to shout, to grab you push out, or him to just leave with any words. But what you didn't expect him was to look at you with an expression as if he'd see you the first time. Say something. Please. Something. But he didn't. So once again you glanced to the ground, avoiding his intense gaze and opened your mouth. "I'd understand if you don't want to have anything to do with me, but I just wanted to make sure you don't blame yourself for anything." You intended to leave, but suddenly you felt a hand on your wrist and the next moment you found yourself in the warm embrace against Loki's chest. You hold your breath, trying not to move. You're sure you couldn't even if you wanted to. And if he hadn't heard your heartbeat earlier he was now feeling it. "And you are a very, vert dumb person if you think I could ever hate you." A smile grin appeared on your face and you even dared to look up. "Well, I didn't say you'd hate me-" Your words were suddenly silenced when you felt his lips soft against your own. You froze. Literally, you couldn't move. Just when you finally relaxed, and closed your eyes you leaned in the kiss. And in this moment it felt like it had to be. It was right. This was right. And you were confirmed in your words the second your eyes opened slowly and you saw Loki's bright, green eyes looking at you with so much love, you der your heart and stomach explode. Well, your whole body felt if it had exploded. You smiled softly. It seemed like he wanted to say something when a voice behind you interrupted the moment. "Finally!" You both turned around in shock to see Thor standing there, grinning like he'd just get a second hammer. "I thought I have to wait another century with you mourning yourself until something happen between the two of you." You felt Loki's arm around your waist and suddenly get the feeling to be protected from everything. "Brother." Loki's voice was clearly full of annoyance but his eyes revealed his amusement about this situation and his words. "I was certainly not mourning myself." Thor clapped his brother at his back, still grinning. "Whatever you say, brother." An awkward silences appeared in which you tried anything to avoid Thors eyes. "Sooo," he started. "What about a double date?" "Absolutely not". "Never." Thor's gaze faltered for a second, before he finally said. "Well, well I don't wanna disturb you turtle doves any further. We meet later, Y/N. After all you're officially my sister in law! Mother will be so happy!" "Will you finally vanish," loki complained, now rolling his eyes. Thor lifted both of his hands in defence. "I'm gone, I'm gone." Then Loki turned around to you again. "I'm sorry, but you know my brother." You smiled. A smile from deep down your heart. "I know. And it's fine. Actually it's more then fine!" He rose sceptically his brow. "Have I reasons to worry?" You laughed. Realising how your words have sound like. "No. Never. I meant this. This is more then fine." He placed his arms around your waist. "And why is that?" "Hmm... maybe that way I can finally play with your hair." "And nothing more?" You castes an innocent look. "No, no I don't think so. Just the hair." "Well, then..."he joined your game and wanted to let go of you. But you grabbed his arm and pulled him down for a short kiss. "And maybe this is fine also," you teased. "Well, if this is only fine, we have to try a little more, haven't we?" Your mischievous grin turned into a honest smile when you crossed your arms behind his neck. "I have nothing against it."

_______________

Next Part: Here

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living in the dark | s.m. one-shot

a/n: cute little one-shot about vlogging

The idea had sprung up pretty quickly after the school had found out that Shawn and Y/N were together, but it had mostly been a joke. Like a dumb off handed comment that Y/N had made after filming one of Shawn’s vines. She’d bumped Shawn’s shoulder and threw it out not even really realizing what she was saying, “Maybe you should start a blog.” They had both laughed about it then, but only a couple days later Shawn had asked.

He was on the his back lying on the plush white rug that every teenage girl has in her room, and Y/N was laying with her head on Shawn’s chest. Shawn was playing with her hair when he’d blurted out, “What did you mean a blog? Like a youtube channel? One of those social media things?”

Y/N had was shocked, but she’d always been more smooth with her words and emotions, “Well, I just figure you already put all your stuff out there with singing, but like,” she rolled her head to look up at Shawn, “I mean, why not put stuff out there other than just your songs videos?”

“What kinda stuff though?” His hand stilled in her hair.

She shrugged, “I dunno, we could do it together. I don’t know like vlog together or something. I mean like, labels and producers, more than anything...they want to know your personality, ya know? Like who is Shawn, really?” She shrugged quickly, “It’s stupid, whatever.”

Shawn hummed, but didn’t respond. And Y/N had thought that was the end of it.

Their senior trip was coming up in the next month, and since Pickering was such a small town, plenty of their classmates had never been to the city. So they’d spent their year raising money through banquets, fundraisers, dances and car washes to make it to the city. They would be spending four days in Toronto doing plenty of tourist things, which Y/N planned on making fun of the whole time. But four days away from Pickering were four days of heaven to Y/N. Toronto used to be her home.

Shawn was just home now.

Small town, rural life was not up Y/N's ally. The lights, the hustle and bustle, the sky risers of the city was a living, breathing life. She thrived in the city, and she’d made sure (with permission of course) to take Shawn as much as possible since they’d been together. Shawn enjoyed the city as much as Y/N, but always seemed to sigh a breath of relief once back in Pickering.

One day, they’d find a middle ground life together. Less rural for Y/N’s taste, but still with fields and hills for Shawn. That was in the future though, nothing she and Shawn had actually discussed of course. But also, plenty of what Y/N had thought about almost every day that she woke up knowing Shawn was with her.

As the senior trip had approached though, Shawn was acting funny-- odd really. He’d asked Y/N an unordinary amount of questions about her photography. What cameras she preferred, what kind of lens’ you needed for different shots, how much each camera cost, if they shot video or just still picture. It wasn’t that Y/N didn’t like having Shawn show interest in her hobby, but it was just, well frankly it was weird. She’d thought about confronting Shawn about it, but decided it really wasn’t that big of a deal. Maybe he was looking for a present for Y/N and fishing for ideas, or perhaps he was wanting to take up photography for himself. Y/N didn’t know but it just didn’t really matter anyways. If Shawn wanted to talk about it he would.

It wasn’t until Shawn had mysteriously disappeared to the city for an entire day that Y/N became suspicious if not slightly concerned. When she’d offered to come with Shawn, he had flat out refused, no forbidden really, Y/N from trailing along.

Whatever he was doing in New York City he was clearly hiding it.

Y/N hadn’t decided if she thought it was a surprise that she’d eventually be told about or if it was actually just a blatant lie.

She was concerned, but she still didn’t want to press. Didn’t feel it was her place, really.

Later that evening, after he’d returned, Shawn pulled Y/N into his bedroom hastily. Shawn dropped his arm once the door to his bedroom shut. He moved towards his bed, reaching around his nightstand to pull something out from behind it.

“I took,” Shawn popped up from behind the bed, hands still out of view, “your advice.” He smiled brightly before lifting his hands over the bed.

A GoPro camera stared back at a baffled Y/N. Her mouth hung open, her confusion evident. “I don’t understand.”

“The blog!” Shawn sprang excitedly out from behind the side of the bed and came closer to Y/N. “I got a camera, and I want us to document, or whatever you call it, our senior trip!”

Y/N’s face must be a sight to see because Shawn laughed lightly at her.

“Yeah, well...okay.” Y/N stuttered.

She didn’t think Shawn would actually listened. Truly. Y/N had thought Shawn had completely pushed the idea aside as just one of those stupid things that Y/N had mentioned off handedly, but apparently it had caught Shawn’s attention.

“Listen,” Shawn said softly. His hand not holding the camera softly brushed at Y/N’s wrist, “I spent some time, like, uh, watching?”

Y/N tilted her head, “Watching?”

“Yeah, uh, researching, I guess. I watched a bunch of popular people doing their blogs.” Shawn huffed out an annoyed sigh and started at the ceiling fan as it spun in circles, “Look it’s probably stupid, but I don’t know...I thought maybe I could do -- we could do -- a girlfriend tag video?”

A slow smile of realization spread over the young girls face. “That’s not stupid,” she spoke softly.

“Uh…” Shawn fidgeted at the point where his fingers met Y/N’s wrist. “Could we maybe do it now? Here?”

Y/N placed a sweet kiss on Shawn’ cheek. “Of course, Shawn.”

It took some time to get the camera set up, even with Y/N’s knowledge of cameras. They rested their backs up against the window of Shawn’s bedroom, the camera situated just so, pointing towards them. Shawn had the questions pulled up on his phone.

“Okay, so I just start by introducing us, and then I’ll ask the questions okay?”

Y/N nodded, allowing Shawn to take the lead as he saw fit.

The camera came on, and Y/N was shocked to say the least. It was a whole new Shawn. Bright and focused, tall posture, light hand on Y/N’s knee where his legs were crossed. “Well, hey guys!” Shawn’ voice seeped into Y/N’s bones. “I’m Shawn and this is my girlfriend Y/N. We’re going to do the girlfriend tag as our first ever video! I’m really excited.” Shawn looked at Y/N brightly, “Okay, first question. Starting easy, simple, ya know. When and where did we meet?”

“Well, we first saw each other in the halls, really. Junior year. I saw you outside in the parking lot, in your Jeep, trying to look all manly. I think you took notice of the camera I was holding, and we kind of just set up a time to record your vines because you’re utterly helpless. That time I came over to help record is when we really like, talked though.”

Shawn nodded along with the story, “True. We did have a class together too, but we never really talked in that. Okay question two, doing good so far,” Shawn chuckled. “Where was our first kiss?”

“The cabin.” Y/N answered quickly.

“Right, yeah. Moving on.” Not something they particularly wanted to discuss over camera.  “Who said I love you first?”

“Pretty sure that was me, and you were not happy with me.”

A slow smiled creeped up on Shawn’ face. He placed a soft kiss on Y/N's cheek before whispering a sorry and accompanying I love you that only Y/N could hear. “Where does my family come from?”

Y/N laughed, “Good ‘ole Pickering.”

“When did you meet my parents?”

Y/N laughed, “Officially or unofficially?”

“Both.”

Y/N thought a moment, “Well I came by once while you were doing some vine things and your dad came into your room to ask about homework. You pushed me into your closet because you weren’t allowed to have girls in your room, but that was really the first time I’d seen him. Officially we met, I suppose, when y’all came over for dinner for the first time.”

Shawn looked at the camera, “We had a tough get going,” Shawn laughed lightly, “Strict parents and all, but that’s a story for another time. What is the one thing you wish I didn’t do?”

“Run away to the city and not take me with you, you fucking jerk.” Y/N shoved Shawn’ shoulder, “Fuck, can I say fuck on YouTube?”

“I think it’s fine,” Shawn laughed. “Okay, what is my shoe size?”

“13.”

“Yeah?” Shawn slipped back from Y/N for a moment, “That’s weird.”

“Mmm.” Y/N shrugged.

“Well, okay…Next?” He glanced at his phone in his lap, scrolling quietly, “Okay, what’s a food I don’t like?”

“Sushi.” Y/N laughed, “You spit it out when I took you to that sushi place in the city.”

“Raw fish should not be eaten, folks. Okay, who’s my best friend?”

Y/N looked at Shawn. As their eyes met a bit, a silent communication of sorts, his lips twisted a bit in thought. His hand came up to pick at his lip a bit, “Well, I mean, I would probably say….me? I don’t know though…I guess if not me, then Brian.”

“Of course. Both can be considered correct,” Shawn’s lip quirked up on the left corner. He did that when he was sweetly surprised. Y/N knew that, knew everything really. Every small detail, every gesture Shawn made. Knew exactly what it meant. Knew what he was saying just by looking into his eyes, breathing his air. Knew that look in his eyes right this very second meant he’d be leaning in to kiss her within seconds.

Surely enough, Shawn did lean in. Their lips met in a sweet embrace. Y/N let out a breath against his lips. It was her home. Shawn was her home.

With a soft break, Y/N whispered, barely audible even to Shawn’ own ears, “You’re my best friend too.” Y/N knew if she said it any louder, thought any longer about, she might cry. She got overly emotional sometimes, but Shawn knew this about her. And it was okay. Shawn pecked her two more times in quick succession before laughing cutely and looking back at his phone, “Okay, maybe just a couple more? What film always makes me cry?”

Y/N burst into laughter, “Bambi!”

“Okay, fine. Last one. What am I most afraid of?”

Y/N paused. There had been so many things they were both afraid of. “Well, Shawn. I think you were always most afraid of me…” Not specifically of her, but of being in love with her. He was so guarded around her at first. It had taken months for him to really let her in. He was scared of getting hurt.

Shawn nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” He reached for Y/N’s hand that was picking at the carpet fibers. “But you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Y/N’s face was like the sun, Shawn was sure of it. She could illuminate the entire world if the sun ceased to exist. Could light up everyone's life, he was sure of it. Knew it. Without a doubt. Because she did it every day from him.

Wasn’t that how it always had been though?

Shawn living in the dark, until Y/N came around?

tagging: @peacedolantwins2 @rosecth @unhealthyobsessionwithmarvel @justanotherfangurl272 @yourwonderbelle

[elegant-etienne]

FFXIVWrites #2: Bargain

(This the story of Adi losing his eye. I’ve had this scene in mind since I created the character, but finally felt confident to do the scene justice. WARNINGS for parental abuse, spousal abuse and body horror, as well as some misogyny, fantasy racism and xenophobia, and implied homophobia.)

( @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast)

"What need have you to go topside, Telesphoriade? You know they hate our kind up there."

Adi (as he preferred to be called, disliking to hear his father's name each time someone spoke to him) stood before his father in the chamber he'd come to think of as a makeshift throne room. Really, it wasn't as grand as all that. It was a high-ceilinged chamber with that ancient, sealed door as its only light, but his people were fine in the dark. Adi, like his father, and his grandfather, and many men before them, studied that door for years. They knew the inscriptions. They felt the judgment of the ancient king's eyes upon them and had not yet found how to open that door or lift the curse. The roots that curved along the walls and ceiling like a bizarre rib cage had been coaxed to flow into the shape of a chair decades ago by Telesphore. His throne sat in the center of the large, open chamber, right where he could watch both the archway entrance and that door. He had to watch them both. None were permitted to even look upon that door without Telesphore's go-ahead, and this was the best way to be certain.

Telesphore was handsome where Adi was pathetic: at least that is what everyone always said. Telesphore: admirable and irresistible over his many decades. His robes, though old, were well-mended and fine, another relic passed down through generations. His eyes always held the aether-glow these days, for the illness was taking his sight, but his violet hair flowed as beautifully as the leaves roots he compelled to grow down here, and he kept his beard smartly trimmed. Despite the mockery of that door and its refusal to open, he was the ruler of this broken, buried domain. Not king, never king, but the closest thing to authority that existed down here in the dark. When he spoke, he straightened his posture from its bored slouch to straight-backed and authoritative. To bring such a large request to him was to court the danger of his temper, but Adi saw his only way.

And he brought his mother as back-up. Sort of.

"They do hate us up there," Zinnia said. She had always been a bit wispy, a bit too quick to agree with Telesphore, even in her attempts to support her son. She was paler than her son her husband, muted echoes of the violet and blue-gray that named her as a part of the Lamoureaux clan. The illness had not been kind to her. She leaned heavily on Adi to stay upright. She weighed so little now. "Adi knows. I know. We've seen it. The way Gridanians make comments when we sell our produce, like we're filthy. It will not be easy for him, but he's willing to endure it. For our sake, my dearest. For the sake of all of the family."

"I see. So my own teachings were inadequate." As usual, Telesphore spoke as if his wife were not in the room. He addressed only Adi. This blindness had taken hold long before the illness. "Your own people call you a prodigy, and I have given of myself, my sweat and blood to make you so - and that is not enough. You require the acceptance of those cowards. Well, you've always been a bit desperate for approval, haven't you, Telesphoriade?"

Adi chewed the inside of his cheek. Even knowing how Telesphore would react, some part of him that wanted to answer back to that bait. Because what his father wanted him to do was assure him that the only approval he required was from him.

 "Like I give a damn if they approve of me," he said. "They won't. I know they won't. I don't care about them. But as valuable as our traditions are, ser, there are many healing practices - chirurgy, alchemy, possibly even other ways to harness white magic - that have advanced because of their bloody war. If we haven't been able to fix things with our knowledge as we have it, then I must find more. I refuse to pass this problem onto the next generation without at least trying something else, something other than staring at that damned door! There have been generations of research I could have access to if the Fane acknowledges me. While I still have the strength to walk in the sun, then I should be doing all I can."

"So you'll be their puppet, scraping to the elementals until they change their minds about us once again. They'll tempt you up there, boy. Their women are brazen."

"I won't have time for women," Adi said too quickly. Quickly enough that his mother looked at him, really stared. He felt it. He could not look at her. His fingers twitched. He hated when he did not look at her. He knew she wasn't often seen.

"You say that now," Telesphore chuckles. He drummed his fingertips along the arm of his chair as if playing a slow, deliberate scale. "But mark my words, I've been in your position. I was lured by the siren song of the so-called freedom of Eorzeans. The decadence. I thought I could change things too, when I was young and headstrong."

"Maybe it will be good for him," Zinnia spoke up. She squeezed Adi's arm. It felt like a small child's grip. "To learn. Not to find a wife, of course, but just to see more. You had such experiences before settling down."

"If you get in trouble with a woman up there, the Wood Wailers will be eager to bring you down, and prove you as a brute," Telesphore said, stroking his beard. "They might even shoot you full of arrows if you look at the wrong one." He chuckled, probably enjoying that image. "I won't come rescue you. You understand that, right? If you insist on being so obstinate, then all consequence be on your head alone."

Adi felt his stomach boil. He held it in, hands flattened against his thighs. Telesphore hated it when he stood with crossed arms. "I wouldn't ask you to," he said, "No matter what. I take this on as my own burden, I would never ask you to carry for me." I'd rather die than ask for your help for anything. "I know it's horrible. I'll come back after every training session. I won't linger among them long enough to let them influence me. Momma needs looking after, as do the others." This was the truth at that time: he couldn't stand Gridanians looking down their noses at him. He had no desire for their stupid city-state and socialization rituals. And he certainly didn't want to risk being seduced. That might break him, to be led astray. He might never return, and then his duties would be left undone.

"You seem quite convinced that this will be worth it," Telesphore, his voice a menacing purr.

"Yes ser, I am," Adi said. His voice did not crack, but it was small.

"I'll permit it, then, since you are so convinced," Telesphore said. "You cannot say I did not warn you, or that I have never done anything for you. That being said, I must be sure that you're strong enough to face the temptations and vile magicks up there."

Adi swallowed the protest: I didn’t ask your permission. He had known there would be a price to pay if he told Telesphore. He simply judged it was better than running away without telling him. To simply run would have risked his father's pursuit, and he doubted he'd survive that.

"Step forward, boy."

Telesphore held out his hand. His gloves were once-rich black velveteen worn to threadbare gray in the palm and fingers. In the center of his palm rested a tiny, circular seed, half the size of a grain of millioncorn and reddish brown. He recognized a sort of meatlike, rotten stink of it.

"An ochu seed?"

There was a touch of corruption to it, too, like the creatures that wandered aimlessly in Issom-Har, lonely and forgotten and susceptible to the call of the Void.

"Kneel."

Adi let go of Zinnia and kneeled as a dutiful son must. He expected that yank to his chin in lieu of the command to look up at him. His father’s grip was steel wrapped in softness, a dull pain that threatened the sharp sting of a slap.

"If you're going to succeed in the Fane, you're going to have to be better than all of them. You'll have to be exceptional. Fortunately, I have taught you so."

"Yes ser."

"I'm only going to encourage this thing to grow a little once you've swallowed it. If you can heal yourself as it eats you from the inside out, as well as eject it - well, then I know you won't embarrass me as your teacher when you train with those folk."

The cold grip of panic froze Adi's stomach solid "But I can't - I can't kill the thing once it's growing, you know that!"

"Of course, boy, I wouldn't forget. But you shouldn't have to. You're a genius, aren't you? Everyone always says. You're fit to surpass me, and a younger, healthier man than your poor ailing father, besides. If you do this for me, I'll never ask any more of you. I will allow you to study without complaint."

"He's our only son, for pity's sake!" Zinnia yelped, finally loud enough to be briefly heard. Adi could not look at his mother then. His father held his face too firmly.

"Don't be hysterical, woman. Do you have so little faith in my teachings?"

"No," Zinnia whispered. "I'm sorry," she said, though to whom, she did not make clear.

Adi sucked in his cheek between his back molars again. He thought about biting right through, but the tang of blood might make his flesh all the more tempting to an ochu nymph. His tongue ran over his cheek like dry sandpaper. This could be done. This had to be done. This was the father-son game they played since he was old enough to hold a wand: Telesphore created some new obstacle for him to magick past, always with exponential increases of danger and pain. This was just another. Possibly the last.

"Do you promise?" Adi tried to wet his dry lips with dry tongue. He clarified, "I'd have your full permission?"

"As long as you come back in sufficient time to marry when your studies are done. Your family needs you, Telesphoriade."

"And you would never test me like this again? Our training together would be concluded?"

Telesphore stroked his beard, tugging at the longest hairs at the point of his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "Now, boy, I didn't offer that."

Adi willed himself to be as still as the stone under his knees. "I'm saying that. I'm risking my life here, and I'm doing it for the family. If I pass this test I'd say things are well concluded."

"I suppose that's fair," Telesphore said, squeezing Adi's cheeks with his thumb and forefinger and shoving the seed in his mouth. A ripple of bright, fresh aether washed over him as Telesphore awakened and then fed the seedkin. He held his palm firmly over Adi's mouth. "Be good and swallow that," he said affectionately.

Adi gulped air, cradling the seed on his tongue as it began to wiggle into wakefulness. It grew to the size of a piece of a pearl chocolate, then larger. He pressed the back of his tongue against his soft palate, feeling as the roots grew and sought purchase, to latch on in the matter of the youngest ochu nymphs before they learned to lure prey with their stink. It was fragile, that little life, far too tender a thing to walk on its own yet, more plant than kin. An ochu nymph. His mouth filled with a foul, fleshy taste, with an undertone of vegetal rot. He gagged, but Telesphore held his mouth closed, so he could not hope to cough it up. His tongue tingled as the thing shoved its roots into the softness, and the flesh beneath as well, sucking at the aether like a hundred little chigoe proboscis.

Mere moments until this thing started feasting on something vital. If it crept upward into his brain, it probably wouldn’t hurt, but it would be too late. The other organs could be an unreliable gauge of that sort of thing too. He needed to be calm. He could best this. Or he would die, in which case it wouldn't matter if he'd panicked or not.

It hurt. It hurt so much his body was quickly going into shock, although the emotional shock of the situation could not be underestimated either. If Adi wasted a moment to reflect on the situation he'd surely tumble a precipice to madness. He needed to hone that energy into concentration for the few mere moments he'd have before fainting.

This was all part of being a conjurer. Not letting things get to you.

Adi held the image of the great tree in the center of the ruins he called home, growing upward and upward into the surface world, verdant and lush and lively and wise. He held its timeless, unshakable strength. He altered the flow of aether through his body to concentrate it from his core outwards, magnifying the aethersight technique his family mastered through one eye to create a line of clean, delicious aether to tempt the ochu out. Ochu were simple creatures, after all, and it was easily coaxed, following the strong, delicious flow of aether upward. Its roots trickled through the honeycomb of his sinuses. The fragile bones cracked from the intrusion and blood flowed from his nose. The sound was like the scrape of little rakes, or cockroach feet on the inside of his head. A lower sound, like the sound of Telesphore's hand tightening his fingers in a glove - the sound of growth, seemed to fill and surround him. Someone outside of him was screaming. Probably his mother. It might have been him. He couldn't feel singular things about his body at the moment, such as if his vocal chords were vibrating. All of his concentration, all of his aether flowed upward and out of him in a symphony of pain and light.

As he hoped, the softness of his eye was a far less resistant and complicated way to get to the aether the seedkin wished to feast on. It burst the sphere of fluids quite completely on its way out. Vitreous humor flowed down his cheek like tears, only a little thicker than the saltwater leaking from his other eye from the pain. For one glowing, frightening moment, his aethersight flowed though the ochu nymph. He saw through it as an extension of himself, stretched upward and blossoming with and hungry, blossoming with flesh-scented flowers toward the ceiling of the room. Other parasitic flowers sought out the richness of his aether, and the room was filled with blooms all straining for his life force. It grew so bright that the wash of light blinded his parents’ aether-sight. Telesphore let go of him, staggering back.

As the ochu nymph grew more solid and mature from its steady food source, it pulled itself free of Adi's eye socket, each root solidifying from threadlike, hairy roots into its more familiar appendages. Adi rapidly healed himself, effectively pushing it out of him with his own mended flesh, until the ochu nymph, discomfited by the movements, popped all the way out of his eye socket of its own accord. Adi cut off the flow of aether and swatted at the thing uselessly with his hand. It went skittering across the floor as Adi quickly sucked his remaining aether back into himself, performing several massive curative spells, mending his flesh in the wake of that violation. The screaming stopped. Perhaps it stopped awhile ago.

His mother laid in a heap on the floor. Still holding one hand over his empty space his left eye should be, he ran to Zinnia's side. Her pulse was faint, she wasn't breathing. His best guess was she had a heart episode due to her weakness, possibly from standing for so long. Adi's mind was still a jumble. He wouldn't be able to examine her properly now - she was in a bad way. "Cure her!" He screamed at Telesphore. "Please! I've almost nothing left. It could kill me to try."

Telesphore had retreated to his throne. "Didn't you say you were willing to risk your life? You might have to make these sorts of decisions, you know. Up there."

"She's your wife, she loves you better than me!" Adi said, though he wasn't sure why that would make a difference this time. “You should care...” He cast a healing spell to stabilize her, and, dizzied and sticky with his own blood and eyefluid, barely strong enough to stand or walk, he tried to regrow his eye as well. He could not complete the whole-cloth reconstruction of a complicated organ. All that he managed was a pale eye-shaped orb of tissue, each feature incomplete. He slouched on his knees beside his mother, and wished he had something left inside him. A tear to cry. A word to say.

"Half-baked," Telesphore sneered at his botched attempt. "And sloppy. You might as well not have bothered. You'll never see out that eye again. And that scarring - tch. Your looks were already a disadvantage."

"I did what you asked," Adi whimpered. He did his best to smooth Zinnia's hair out of her face with the back of his hand, so he would not dirty her with his filth. "So let me go. Say you'll let me go."

"You're a man, aren't you? You don't need my permission."

[crystalrequiem]

The Voice that Urged Orpheus

[Part 3/6(?)] [TRC] Summary: Kurogane learns more about a mysterious new world and accidentally seals his own doomed fate. Tags: Kuro/Fai, Canon Universe, Post-Canon, Warnings:  suggestive thoughts and implications (nothing graphic), People assuming married status, GOD, so much fluff, Is it still slow-burn if they’re already in a relationship? because that’s basically what this is. [Part 1] [Part 2]... [Part 4]

Honestly this section probably should have just been included with the one previous. Not as happy with it because it feels less... cohesive? directed? meh.  Nevertheless I feel like it’s necessary to set up some of the world-building so I can get to the good points later. Hope you still enjoy! I really look forward to reading your comments and tags. They seriously keep me going!  

The shopkeep, it turns out, does look a little familiar. She has dark-skin and a well-toned frame, pretty face framed by a shower of pink, fluffy hair. He doesn’t think any version of her has ever been a particularly close friend, but something about her rings a bell anyway.

“Hello, hello! Your young friend here was just telling me you wa—wow.” She seems perfectly amiable but the moment Fai steps fully into view, her whole expression shifts. Her jaw drops, and the wide eyes she graces them with matches the expressions they’ve been earning outside. “Oh-ho-kay, Hi! I’m so sorry; I didn’t think anyone from the academy would stop by, uh. How—how can I help you?”

Kurogane and Fai search each other out long enough to share a moment of confusion.

“Academy?” the mage echoes. However badly Kurogane’s attempt at reassurance rattled him before, he displays no indication now. Given his ability to bury his feelings beneath exhausting layers of façade, this comes as no surprise.

“Yes? I mean—I just assumed… what with your magic the way it is—” She glances from Fai to Kurogane and back, shock and bewilderment only incrementing. “Do you—are you two sharing the same magic?”

Alright, so they’ve at least found a reason for the staring. Apparently the people of this world can commonly sense magic, and they find something strange. Something about himself and Fai, in particular. Kurogane breathes a little easier given an idea of what makes them stand out. He just wishes he had any hope of keeping up with the why. Magic focused-worlds make his head spin.  

At least for right now, Fai seems equally clueless.

“No, I don’t think we are,” he answers, bemused.  

“Wow. Hunh.” Her eyes catch on something they can’t see, staring into the empty air between them.

“Actually, Miss Caldina,” Syaoran leaps to the rescue in the awkward silence that follows. “When I said we were travelers from far away, I meant… We’re from very far. We don’t really know anything about this place. Is there any way you could explain a few things about the area?”

The woman, apparently named Caldina, breaks herself from her trance. She pats her face with both hands hard enough to produce a resounding slap. “Sorry! That was rude of me. Let’s start over. Hello, Welcome to the Enchantress. Why don’t you nice folks ask me your questions and I’ll see what I can do?”

A world where everyone can see and use magic.

Kurogane doesn’t get most of what Caldina says, nor does he really understand what Fai and Syaoran ask in return, but he understands that much. People here… see magic. How much potential people have, the spells they cast, the lingering enchantments in his arm, and now his cloak.

According to the shopkeep, Syaoran’s magic stands out on its own—a prodigy, for certain. That alone might distract the townsfolk, but… Fai brings it to a whole other level.

Apparently Fai’s magic is dazzling. He stands visibly above the rest. Caldina had taken a single look and assumed he must belong to the city’s prestigious Academy, where this world’s best casters gather to learn and teach, developing the field of magic further. Then she’d spotted Kurogane and nearly had a heart attack.

“It’s like looking at a flame about to go out—for I second I thought you were dead! No offense!” He doesn’t know how the comparison to a corpse should not offend him, but in the context of magic he supposes he doesn’t mind. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone live with as little magic. I thought your husband must have been pulling from you or masking you or something.”

Chaos reigns as soon as she completes the sentence. Mokona bursts into a flurry of giggles, rolling across Syaoran’s shoulders. The Kid stares at his fellow travelers like a deer caught in lamplight, and Kurogane… looks to Fai.

The mage doesn’t react to Caldina’s mistaken assumption save for the extra-bright flush rising to his cheeks, visible even despite the sunburn.

“Well,” he murmurs, lips quirked in a teasing half-smile, “You’d be surprised how little magic people really need to live.” He doesn’t contradict her. He wants to tease—to fall back into their game of overreaction and meaningless words. Fai meets Kurogane’s eye like he’s issuing a challenge—just waiting for the embarrassment to overwhelm the surly ninja and push him to set the record straight.

He doesn’t.

Once upon a time he would have died of mortification and flown right off the handle to hear someone call Fai his husband. But right now… well it’s kind of his goal, isn’t it? It only annoys him that apparently people other than Fai don’t need his intentions spelled out for them.

Eventually, his family realizes he doesn’t plan to say a word. Mokona’s celebration falls to a hush and Syaoran clearly has no idea what to do. Fai’s expression remains implacable, save for the distinctive blush still written on his face.

“Sorry, did I say something wrong?” Caldina drawls.

“Not really! It’s just that those two aren’t married..?” Syaoran takes pity on them all and lets her know, though the fact that he phrases it as a question doesn’t skip Kurogane’s notice.

The poor shopkeeper visibly takes a moment to process this information, flabbergasted. She stares again at whatever it is she can trace between himself and Fai, and shakes her head. “Why not?” her expression reads quite clearly. And boy, does Kurogane not have an answer to that.

“I’m doing a great job of putting my foot in my mouth today.”

“It’s fine! Sometimes Mokona forgets they aren’t really married too.” The manjuu chimes amidst nervous laughter.

Kurogane huffs and turns away, tuning out the cheerful banter that follows. Maybe this is part of his problem. After everything, he feels so close to Fai that even marriage can’t quite encapsulate what they already are to each other. In the end, the extra title of “husbands” won’t change them. It won’t make Fai more or less than he is, or guarantee a forever, or do anything other than put a layer of formality over what they already have.  

Still… there’s something about that formalization that he wants. A definite moment in time he can point to as a promise made, a good memory he can give to Fai who has so many to outweigh it, a declaration of intent that the world can’t ignore… He wants to ask for that.

Maybe he’s just a sentimental fool.

He emerges from his thoughts, watching as the shopkeeper purchases a few of their curios for what seems like a decent sum of currency. They exit the shop with a little more confidence and directions to the famed Academy of Chizeta.

“Shall we?” Fai charms, gesturing theatrically towards the direction of the supposed academy. His early sunburn has settled on a pink that gives him a permanent look of over-heated exertion.

Kurogane squints in the too-bright sunlight, but only Fai truly blinds him. The jerk has no business being so damn attractive. Especially not when he’s going to permanently damage his skin at this rate, walking around with his hood down. The urge to thread his fingers through sweat-dampened gold and kiss that stupid grin off his face strikes Kurogane with all the force of a hurricane. He reaches out before he can stop himself and only manages to switch tacks at the last second, tugging Fai’s hood up far enough to cover his eyes.

“You’re gonna burn, dumbass.”

The line of Fai’s mouth tilts from shocked to pleased in moments, and the mage laughs, reaching up to adjust his cloak enough to see. Shit, Kurogane feels weak to that sound every time—unguarded and honest.

“Looking out for me?” Fai teases.

“Always.”

The word escapes him before he can think twice, but he can’t regret it. At least it forms some part of the mess he so badly wants to communicate. This time, Fai takes his desperate sentimentality a little better. He shakes his head, frustration and affection swimming in a churning cocktail of emotion behind his too-blue gaze.

“You’re hopeless.” He touches Kurogane’s shoulder as he sighs the words, sending a renewed burst of magic into the fabric that cuts right through the re-building heat.

“Can we really be sure they aren’t married though?” Mokona’s voice shatters the moment, and Fai and Kurogane both startle badly. He lunges for the damn pork bun, ready to pound it into mochi, before he thinks better of it and remembers that the world outside his Mage exists. They’ve already begun to draw stares again. Maybe Fai’s use of magic just now looked particularly interesting? He doesn’t know.

They start their sojourn toward the school in good spirits, even despite the heat and the persistent attention. He finds himself far less paranoid, even if so many eyes still make him feel like he doesn’t quite fit in his own skin. Syaoran and Fai take the lead, talking softly about cooling charms and how they work. Eventually, Mokona catches on that his cloak has already been ensorcelled and burrows into his hood without his permission. Annoying, but… well he can’t blame the manjuu for seeking out a little relief. It is hot. Part of him wonders why Fai hasn’t copied the spell on his own clothes or Syaoran’s, whether the spell might have taken more work than he thought, and whether he should pass the chilled cloak around in turns… He’ll suggest it when they stop next.

Either way, the enchantment does its work well. The ache of his shoulder nearly disappears as magic wicks the heat away. Less distracted by pain, he has a far easier time monitoring the stares they gather. He can track the eyes of others lining the crowded city streets as they trace lines of invisible magic. A few people glance his way in confusion, but for the most part, Fai and Syaoran draw a majority of the attention.

He thinks of Caldina, pleased and impressed just by the sight of them, able to gauge magic power with a glance, and something like pride struggles to escape him. It buoys upwards, a nervous bubble caught in his chest. So maybe he feels like the kid and mage deserve a little recognition… surely there’s nothing strange about that.

He can’t help wondering what they must look like.

“Everyone is so interested in Fai! Seeing magic must be very exciting. Mokona wants to see too.” The pork bun mirrors his thoughts and sours his mood, speaking in that tinny voice far too close to his ear. He’s not prepared to hear the mage answer,

“Oh, it’s not so exciting really….” Fai’s gaze drifts somewhere distant as he trails off. Sadness seeps through the cracks in his mask—hard to see, but Kurogane can find it in the way he holds himself. Old, and tired. Burdened by some bad memory. The kids don’t notice.

“Does that mean you can see magic too, Fai?” Syaoran voices the thought aloud, quiet enough to escape the hearing of any onlookers, and the mage’s smile sharpens. He focuses on the boy and that heart-twisting sorrow bleeds away.

“Not naturally, like people in this world can, but there’s an old spell for it from… well.” He waves a hand, as if to knock the words from the air. Kurogane knows somehow with a distant pang that he would have said “Valeria.” “I can show you later if you really want, but I promise it’s not as exciting as it sounds.”

The kids both chorus out a “Mokona does really want,” and “Yes, Please!” to the surprise of no one. Fai must have expected the children to say as much; he doesn’t so much as blink when he hears them. No. Only Kurogane’s quiet, “Sure,” shocks Fai enough to forget his words and halt him mid-step.

His cheeks burn with the weight of a different sort of stare and Kurogane looks to see his family gaping.

“What,” he grouches, and Fai rewards him with another honest laugh.

“Nothing at all, Kuro-sama.” He turns back to the path and keeps walking, careful to make sure Syaoran keeps up. “The spell has to be cast by the viewer to work. I meant to teach Syaoran, but… well…” He glances over his shoulder at both Kurogane and Mokona, smiles that slow, easy smile Kurogane loves so much. “I guess I’ll see what I can do.”  

Kurogane manages to choke out a gruff, “thanks,” and tries to ignore everyone the rest of the way to the Academy. Between Mokona’s muffled snickering at his ear and the way Fai’s every breath draws his attention like a moth to flame, he does not succeed. He tries to imagine what the magic might look like—Fai somehow brighter and more incandescent than he already is, blue eyes cutting through his soul, that signature white and blue written into his skin or drifting off him in waves...

…Fuck. He’s so doomed.

[afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin]

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Request:

What’s up sug! sorry you’re struggling right now but I’ve come to help you If you could bring this to light for me I’d absolutely love for YOU TO DO JT So basically Bucky X Enhanced reader who are fuckin enemies. Hate each other to every last fiber of their beings bc Bucky is rude and she calls him out on it. AnywHs, they get drunk, truth or dare (go crZy baby) and LOTS LF dirty talk if u wanna do smut but if u don’t then buck taking care of her while she’s drunk cause she admitted her feelings

Pairing: Bucky X Reader (Enhanced)

Summary: Since The Avengers gave you a home the only blight has been Bucky Barnes, a ghost from your past that you can’t seem to shake. It makes you hate him. The feeling, it seems, is mutual. But… a simple game reveals that maybe things aren’t quite so simple. (Post Winter Soldier AU)

Warnings: Honestly, this is, and I’m not lying, kind of FLUFFY WHAT?!

A/N: These two. I just… wow. I really like them ok? Also, I like thinking about fun quirks or hobbies Bucky may find himself being drawn to after everything. Little frivolous things that bring some happiness into his life and space.

I just hope y’all enjoy these tender moments. ♥️

(This is a repost because tumblr is stupid and somehow the link or something in the original is corrupted. I apologize for the double ((or triple idek what’s happening at this point)) notification tag list folks.)

Tags are open!

@midnightdream83 @mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito @handplucked @buckysstar @sam-jae @marauder–harder @for-the-love-of-the-fandom   @meg-asaur @jewelofwinter

Even though the elevator ride to his apartment is short you’re already dozing a bit in his arms. Your face half buried in his chest, softly breathing, though your expression is far from relaxed.

Once inside he gently sets you on the couch, laying your head on a throw pillow and tucking the thick blanket around you. In just a week you’d lost mass, he could feel bones where he had been unable to feel or see them when you’d last been here.

Your power, he knew, meant you needed to stay well fed because it could drain your body, pulling from your own metabolism to keep running. From what he could tell it had been running for the past week.

You groan a little and reach for him. A sad smile rises on his lips, “I’m not going anywhere, doll,” he strokes your forehead pressing a kiss to the crease there, “just rest a second. Nothing is gonna get through me, you’re safe.” This seems to work as your forehead smooths a bit and your hand relaxes.

“Sargent Barnes,” Jarvis pipes up quietly once Bucky is in the kitchen. “I do not want to impose but I have noticed Ms. Y/L/N’s distress for days. She has not granted me permission to request any additional aid on her behalf.”

“Not shocking,” Bucky says looking over at you.

“I will continue to heed her wishes as long as her life is not in immediate risk. However, she is massively undernourished, if she goes another day without eating in her condition I will be forced to notify medical per my programming.”

“I understand, Jarvis. Thanks.”

“May I suggest a light soup and an electrolyte fortified beverage? I worry her system cannot handle much else.”

“Good call.” He opens the pantry to find a can of chicken noodle.

“That would be most excellent I believe. I will have one of the bots bring the beverage for her.”

“Thanks, Jarvis.”

“Of course, sir.”

Bucky isn’t much of a cook but thankfully he can manage a can of soup. Just before it’s done Dum-E slips in quietly with a basket from the main kitchen with bottles of Pedialyte. He pats the weird bot on the head, always viewing it like a friendly dog more than a machine, and it lets itself out.

He brings the soup to the coffee table and gently tries to wake you.

“Y/N,” he shakes your shoulder gently, “I know you’re tired but I need you to wake up for just a few minutes.” Nothing. “Doll? Come on, wake up for me.” Another shake.

With a gasp, you shoot up, frantically looking around the room, tendrils of light snaking every which way under your skin. Bucky grabs your shoulders.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” his voice is kind but stern, he needs you to hear him. “Look at me, Y/N.” You do finally and the light comes on, he can feel you relax in his grip.

Moving a strand of hair from your face he says, “Sorry, I know you need sleep, but you’ve got to try and eat something.” Your head sort of falls to the side rather than turn to see the soup on the table behind Bucky, brows knit.

“You don’t have to eat much, just something. Ok?” You nod, eyes fluttering a bit. For a second he’s worried he’s going to have to feed you, worried you’re that far gone, but you pull your self together and reach for the bowl. He hands it to you and surprisingly you make it through half.

“I can’t,” you say handing it back.

“That's ok,” he takes it. “Here,” he hands you the Pedialyte standing to take your bowl to the kitchen. “Sip this.”

You smile a bit, “So bossy,” you say looking up at him. A genuine smile fills his face, you had said that the night you were together. He strokes the side of your face and heads into the kitchen.

Back in the living room, he sits at the end of the couch as you drink what you can. You set it down, shaking your head.

“Ok, let’s get you to bed.” You look up at him, terror on your face. “I’ll be with you. If you want me to be.”

“Please,” you say, your voice less hoarse than before. He nods and holds out a hand. You stand a little more steadily and make your way to his room.

He gives you a shirt and a pair of boxers to change into assuming you don’t want to sleep in your gym clothes. While you’re in the bathroom he changes too, into pajama bottoms and turns the bed down. When you come out he has to force himself to not gawk. For some reason, you look incredible in his shirt and boxers. He swallows hard.

“I guess this will make three pieces of clothing I need to get back to you,” you say, voice sounding steady. Good.

“I’ll send you an invoice,” he says taking a few steps toward you. Tenderly he caresses your arm, “Come on.”

In the bed, you immediately curl against him and he holds your right hand in his left pressing it to his chest.

He thinks you’re just about asleep when you say, “Bucky?”

“Yes, doll?”

“You meant it earlier right?” He doesn’t respond, “Your promise…”

His heart aches, “I did.”

“You’ll kill me, then.”

He won’t lie, “No.” You shoot up and stare at him, betrayal on your face. He’s unfazed and just cups your face in his right hand. “I’ll kill you if you’re about to lose control, I told you that the other night. But Hydra… anyone else… they won’t ever get close enough to you for it to matter.” His tone shifts cold and certain, “Ever.”

You stare at him for a minute before that sinks in, just how much he means it, what exactly it means. That he would take on anything to protect you from becoming someone else weapon again, anything.

You nod and in a flash your lips are on his. His hand is still hovering in the air where your face had been before it slowly rests on the back of your head. He lets this go on longer than he should he knows, you need rest, but he can’t help how good it feels to feel your lips on his, to have you in his arms.

Eventually, you sit up, leaning against his chest, looking down into his face, “Thank you.”

[Reader]

Your head is throbbing and your mouth feels like a damn desert. Logically you knew you weren’t fully out of the woods. This bout of trauma wrecked you, body and soul. Even so, you feel more human than you had for days. It was a start.

Bucky’s warm presence behind you feels something like comfort. You can’t tell if he’s awake but you press even closer to him, the weight of his right arm across your torso grounding. Reacting to your movement his hand flexes, laying flat on your stomach, holding you tight against him.

“Hey there,” the warmth of his breath on the back of your ear sends tingles all over your body. He begins to lift his arm and move but you grab it, holding him in place, not ready for him to let go. Immediately he settles back down and presses a kiss to the back of your head. Ugh, your hair was filthy, not that he seems to mind.

“Hey,” you rasp, voice almost as cracked as your lips.

“Excuse me,” Jarvis intones. “I’m very sorry to intrude but I have an urgent message from Mr. Stark informing you both that you need to be in the conference room in two hours. I didn’t want to wake you.” Bless Jarvis.

“You can tell Mr. Stark to go fuck himself,” Bucky snaps, his body tensing.

“Don’t tell him that Jarvis,” you sounded like a pack a day smoker.

“I had no intention to.”

You turn in Bucky’s arms to face him, “What the hell?”

His face is a mask of concern, “Whatever they need can wait. You’re not in any condition-“

“I can handle a conversation Bucky,” probably… “I mean… they gave us almost a week. That’s more than fair…”

“No.” His tone says there’s no argument here and your brows raise, “You need rest.”

Gently you move a few stray strands of hair from his face, “So do you,” the circles under his eyes were still dark.

He takes your hand in his and kisses your palm, “I’m ok, doll.”

“Please,” you roll your eyes, “we’re both far from ok. They deserve to know why.” He knows you’re right and sighs heavily before kissing your forehead.

“Ok.” He squeezes you tight before sitting up cross-legged on the bed.

As he leans forward you can’t help but ogle the way the muscles in his back move. If you weren’t so cotton-mouthed right now you’re not certain you wouldn’t be drooling. Sex drive had to be a good thing right?

Slowly, you sit up, not wanting to set the room spinning and kiss his back before laying your cheek on the warm flesh there. He hums a little, contented sound, reaching back to grab your hand.

“What if we have them come here?” His low voice vibrates through his torso.

“Here?”

“Yeah. Or your place. I just… if they wanna talk we can talk but they’re gonna come to you where you can be comfortable and…”

“I’m not in danger from them, Bucky.” The look on his face tells you he doesn’t trust that. It’s understandable, his concern.

Before, in Hydra, your display with him would have been grounds to be wiped and iced. You sigh heavily, “My place is… not currently fit for other people…” That was putting it lightly. Five days of depression, no sleep, and fighting the storm in your head meant it was just as wrecked as you were.

“They can come here, it’s fine,” he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Ok,” you pull away from him and run your fingers through your greasy hair. “I’ll head up and shower then-”

“No,” he says shaking his head, “you’re going to have some breakfast before you do anything.” You glance at the clock, it’s 12:30pm. “Brunch, whatever,” he says with a smile.

The thought of food makes your stomach growl, “Actually not going to fight you there.”

Bucky makes you simple eggs, dry toast, and water per Jarvis’ suggestion before getting in the shower himself. Surprising yourself, you manage to eat it all and don’t want to throw up. Progress. When he comes out, you’re loading the dishes into the washer.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, drying his hair, looking better than he had any right in his navy henley and grey sweats.

“Wanted to feel useful,” you say with a shrug. He comes into the kitchen and pulls you to him, smelling like that tea tree shampoo and toothpaste. This whole thing is so weird. Maybe weird is ok though…

“Just shower here, I’m sure I’ve got something you can wear,” his lips press against the crown of your head. You nod against his chest, “You not fighting me is a strange change of pace,” his voice is tinged with humor.

You shrug, the side of your face still pressed to him. “Don’t want to face my apartment yet is all...”

His left-hand takes your chin and tilts your face up, “That’s ok.” The corners of his eyes crinkle a bit when he smiles, “You’re welcome here as long as you like. When you’re ready I can help you get your place up to code… if you want.”

A laugh bursts from you and his brows knit in concern. “A little over a week ago I was thinking of ways to kill you. Now…” Your laugh swallows the rest of that statement.

“Now maybe you’re glad you didn’t?” He asks with a smirk. You cup his face and rise up a bit on your toes to press a quick kiss on his lips.

“Maybe. Don’t push your luck though,” you say with a wink.

He shakes his head, smiling, “Go shower.”

Stepping back from him your hand rises to your chest, “Are you saying I’m dirty?!”

He laughs, “No. I’m saying, you’re greasy. But we could work on dirty later if you want.” A devious smile lights his face and his tongue flits across his bottom lip.

You can’t help the huge smile that stretches it’s way across your own face and you playfully smack his chest as you walk past him, “Dick.”

Another laugh tumbles from him. You’re a few steps away when you feel his arms wrap around you and pull your back tight against his torso. His face is pressed against yours, his short beard tickling the skin on your cheek. You hold on to his forearms and lean into the embrace, letting the comforting feeling of him wash over you.

“I’ll put some clothes on the bed,” he says next to your ear, “and deal with Stark. Take your time.” With that, he kisses your cheek and releases you.

You sit on the bench in the shower and let the steam engulf you. The heat may relax some but for you it’s a boost, sending a low hum of energy thrumming through you, clearing your head. It’s a good thing too. There’s a feeling in your gut that this is going to be a fairly unpleasant conversation.

Sighing you stand, you’ve been in here long enough to be a touch pruney. Your muscles still ache from being tense with constant adrenaline for days and your legs shake just a bit but you’re miles ahead of where you were last night. It sinks in a bit just how close to the edge you were. If Bucky hadn’t come in… would you have lost it? And if you had…

Pushing the thought from your mind you shut the water off and reach for the plush towel. Your reflection in the mirror is, disheartening, to say the least. Hopefully, the hollowness in your cheeks and the purple under your eyes would tell enough of the story for you when everyone came in with their questions. You roughly dry your hair and find a hair tie in a drawer to toss it into a messy bun.

On the bed, Bucky has left you a pair of drawstring sweats and a hoodie, both in his favorite midnight blue color. They’re just big enough to be oversized but it’s so comfortable to be surrounded by warmth and his smell. Your eyes ache to close.

Bucky’s in the kitchen, setting out mugs and the smell of coffee fills the air. You were certain coffee wouldn’t be on Jarvis’ recommended list of nutrients for you at the moment but you’re feeling sleepier by the minute. If they want you to make it through this you’re going to need that boost.

“That smells like everything I need right now,” you hop onto one of the metal barstools by his island. He doesn’t question you and pours a large cup.

“How do you take it?”

“Black.” Your fingers curl around the mug he hands you, it has the Brooklyn bridge on the side, one of those things you find at gift shops all over the city. It’s now that you realize all the mugs are different.

Some like this one are souvenirs, a Broadway mug with comedy and tragedy masks, one from the Met with a Monet on the side. There are a few that look vintage, from the 70’s maybe. Others are novelty mugs. There’s one that looks like a camera lens, one says “Get Shit Done” on the side, another is shaped like a donut. You can’t help but smile.

He notices you looking, “I… uh, like mugs I guess.” Awkwardly he runs a hand through his hair. “Figured coffee would be good. My… my ma always made coffee when people came over…”

Your heart may actually burst. “You’re cute,” you say sipping what is actually an exceptional cup of coffee. He snorts and pours his own cup, this one with “Rocket Fuel” on the side and the NASA logo.

“Come on,” he heads into the living room. You hadn’t noticed he’d pulled his dining room chairs in here to accommodate the others. “There’s still a bit before they get here.”

Plopping onto the couch he hits play on the remote sitting on the side table, old jazz fills the space. Unsure where to sit you stand awkwardly between the kitchen and living room weighing your options.

“Psst,” he quips from the couch, you meet his gaze. A smile fills his face and beckons with his left hand. You take a tentative step in his direction, “The big chairs are comfortable too if-”

“No,” you say as you set your mug on the coffee table and sit next to him. His left arm wraps around your shoulders and pulls you close. You lay your head against his chest and immediately feel your body relax. “This is perfect.”

[tjkiahgb]

Episode Recap: 3.03, “It's a Dilemna”

First of all, love the title for this episode. It reminds me of the classic 2011 Vince Vaughn/Kevin James dramedy, The Dilemma, which always reminds me of this tweet:

So prepare yourself for this episode, in which one of the characters might find themselves presented with “a situation in which a difficult choice has to be made between two or more alternatives, especially equally undesirable ones.” Ooh. The possibilities are almost literally endless.

The episode starts with Bex and Andi playing off-brand scrabble.

I’m gonna guess... Word Trains? There’s clearly a heavy train influence here.

Bex takes a long time to play her word, but eventually settles on “dilemna” [sic]. Is this foreshadowing? Do you think Bex and/or Andi might have to make a difficult choice between two or more alternatives? And could it involve a jet?

Also, I can’t believe Bex went for dilemna when DEMJETIPRIZE was still on the table! That’s like a 200 point word!

Andi rips into Bex for spelling things wrong, but then Andi says superfluous as super-flew-us and everyone’s back on an even level.

If there’s one thing to learn from this whole ordeal, it’s simply this:

Words are stupid.

The next day, the GHC walks through school planning out their weekend. Andi says the Color Factory is in town, but I’m sorry, the only factory I’m interested in is of the cheesecake variety.

Anyway, the Color Factory is a bunch of colorful rooms that, as Buffy puts it, is “one those places that’s just for posting pictures on social media to make people feel left out.”

As Buffy’s describing that, I’m nodding my head like, Yeah, that’s so stupid. What kind of jerks would post dumb pictures like that to social media just to--

Never mind.

Anyway, Buffy and Cyrus are in.

Quick question: why does this girl assault Cyrus?

And why does Cyrus not do anything about it? Is his self-esteem so low he just lets people run into him and doesn’t even bother to say something? The poor child.

Buffy says you know who else might enjoy an artsy, interactive, colorful experience thing? Walker. And Andi’s like:

There’s definitely an unseen eye twitch going on here.

Andi slowly turns around and she and Buffy live in this long, awkward silence that gets mercifully ended by the school bell after a few seconds. They decide to talk about it later and scramble away.

Over at Cloud 10, Bex and Celia sort supplies in an empty salon.

I’m already starting to get worried about the business, you guys.

Celia asks Bex if she wants to go shopping on her lunch break. Bex sniffs out something suspicious, and Celia admits she wants to start a registry for Bex’s wedding. Bex doesn’t want to do that, though. Celia asks what Bowie thinks, but Bex says they really haven’t discussed the wedding, they’ve been too busy talking about bread. Celia loses all interest in shopping and goes back to her supplies.

Over at Red Rooster, Jonah strums a guitar when a dad and son come in. They are wildly over-impressed by Jonah’s guitar strumming.

Boy, wait till you guys hear actual music. You’re gonna flip.

Bowie comes to talk to the enthusiastic fans. Turns out, young Shaun (the boy) is turning nine, and his father, Victor (the man), would like to buy him his first guitar. Victor asks Bowie to teach his son, but Bowie’s like, eh, I’m not so much a guitar teacher.

But then Jonah’s like, yeah he is! He made me a music genius in two lessons! And he’s a rockstar! He traveled the world with the Renaissance Boys! You know the Renaissance Boys, don’t you? Bowie and... Rafe. And... Greg? And the cute one?

Bowie tries to play it all down, but it doesn’t seem to be working on Victor.

Victor says Shaun has a gift and he needs the right teacher, so Bowie accepts.

At The Spoon, Cyrus tells Andi he’s failing P.E., which seems almost impossible to me. All I had to do in school to pass P.E. was show up? Just like, stand around and keep breathing? There was a kid in my school who was in an iron lung and they got a B+. One student spent every period trying to attack the P.E. teacher with a big stick and didn’t fail the class. A boy in my school passed away in the 7th grade and still got a C in 8th grade P.E. because my P.E. teacher was convinced the gym was haunted by his spirit.

Anyway, Cyrus tries to figure out how to deal with this situation. Then he asks Andi how she’s going to deal with hers: Buffy and Walker. Andi wants to know if it really needs to be discussed. I mean, she said she was fine with it, sure, but then she was also quiet, so...

Cyrus says what Andi could do is, stay with me here, speak to Buffy. I feel like he’s tried giving this advice to Andi before, regarding Jonah. I forget if it worked that time. Probably. This time, though, Andi determines the best course of action is to not bring it up and hope Buffy doesn’t either.

Buffy arrives and immediately brings it up. You know what they say about the worst-laid plans...

Andi and Buffy decide to get it all out there. Andi feels weird around Walker and doesn’t want him to come to the Color Factory. Buffy understands and says she won’t invite him. Everything seems good.

Cyrus pulls out a chip he thinks looks like Obama.

Wow. Way to take care of a valuable piece of art. You wouldn’t just stuff a Van Gogh in a ziploc and hope for the best.

Bex comes by to see Celia and asks why she got a “Save the Date” for her wedding. Celia says it’s ok, because actually the I Ching chose the date. Bex reminds her she’s said over and over that she doesn’t want a big fancy wedding and Celia’s like, if I don’t do something, you’ll all be wearing shorts at the wedding like animals! Bex and Celia are sort of at an impasse here after it felt like they we’re doing so well in their fight together against Aunt Mei.

Cyrus talks with his P.E. teacher, looking for an out. He says he’s running a 17 minute mile. 17 minutes?! I had a kid in my P.E. class that did a 15 minute mile in an iron lung! Half my 8th grade class were in iron lungs, ok? I went to a weird middle school.

His P.E. teacher suggests taking a P.E. alternative, which leads to Cyrus joining the cast of Fame.

Is it just me or are the dancers performing a number based on a public domain version of the Rocky theme?

Also, aren’t we just barely into the school year? How are all the rest of these kids so good already?

Cyrus is exhausted and realizes he’s made a huge mistake. Not sure why he thought dancing wasn’t also a lot of cardio. Probably because he has a broken teenage brain.

At Red Rooster, Bowie tries to teach Shaun the guitar. He’s not very good. It appears that Bowie attempts to teach him for maybe an hour or so, realizes he isn’t the reincarnation of Jimi Hendrix, and then dies inside.

I mean, the kid is only nine. I’d assume there’s lots of room for improvement. Tons of room. But I’m not a member of the famed Renaissance Boys. (And if I was, I’d be the cute one. Believe it.)

Andi gets ready to head out to the Color Factory and walks right into Walker, who says they need to talk-er. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.

Walker wants to know why if Andi said she was cool with them just being friends, then what’s the deal with her being all weird around him. Andi’s upset Buffy told Walker that, but Walker says Buffy needed to explain why he couldn’t be around her.

Walker wants to know if there’s anything they could do to fix this whole mess and Andi’s like, mangle your face so you’re gross to me. No, she doesn’t know if there’s anything to do, but she does know Walker should go to the Color Factory. Walker thanks her for being cool, which is... a generous reading of the situation. Andi admits as much.

At the Color Factory, Cyrus remains in pain from doing just a very light amount of uncoordinated dancing.

Cyrus says he can’t go back to regular P.E. until next semester, so strap in, folks: we’re going to be seeing some more dancing this year.

Walker shows up. Buffy is surprised to see him, but Walker explains everything was worked out and he has Andi’s permission to enjoy the Color Factory with the others.

And enjoy the Color Factory they do. They’re laughing and posting pictures to social media.

In fact, you may say they’re having the time of their lives.

God, I hope Andi can’t hear that music or read the closed captioning.

Buffy texts Andi asking where she is and why she didn’t come but Andi has a tough time answering.

Bex and Bowie prepare food. Bowie thinks it’s nice Celia is obsessing over their wedding. Bex thinks they should be the ones to plan the date of their wedding, and Bowie asks her when that should be, and Bex doesn’t actually know, and neither does Bowie, so Bowie suggests maybe they should just trust the I Ching.

Bowie says if neither of them really cares, give this to Celia. Pick your battles, which is a smart tactical move in both warfare and in dealing with overbearing mothers. Bowie’s reasonability (reasonableness? Words are stupid.) wins Bex over.

Also, Bowie spent the whole scene just absentmindedly chopping up hot dogs.

It’s not really important, but I kept watching him do it the whole time, wondering what those chopped up hot dogs were for. But that’s my problem, not yours.

Anyway, the two parents realize Andi’s been quiet, so they go to check on her.

Andi’s not feeling ok. She explains that her friends are having fun without her, and that Buffy would rather be with Walker than with her. Bex is like, wow, would Buffy really say that? And Andi’s like, she didn’t have to, I know it’s true because Buffy told Walker he couldn’t hang out with her because she wanted to spend time with Andi and it made Andi uncomfortable. And Bex asks Andi if Andi told Buffy not to tell Walker that, and Andi feels she shouldn’t have had to. And Andi says she texted Buffy that something came up, and that’s why she couldn’t go to the Color Factory, but Buffy never asked her what that something was. Further proof of malice. Followed by the gravest insult of all:

WHY NOT JUST THROW DIRT IN MY FACE, BUFFY?!

Andi says to top it all off, her friends posted all sorts of fun stuff on social media, knowing full well she has access to the internet. I guess it’s sort of interesting she’s giving Cyrus and Jonah a pass here, but whatever.

Bex and Bowie try to cheer Andi up, but she’s in an emotional hole right now.

Andi is being a bit unreasonable, but I also understand it’s fairly realistic emotional behavior for her age (broken teenage brains and all that).

Being an adult, however, the ones I sympathize the most with in this scene are Bex and Bowie...

...who share a little, “Oh right, we’re raising a teenager” look as the episode ends.

[jazzycheshirekitten-blog]

Kar Cat

@croupiergin

Jazz

You are Jasmine Lalonde, most commonly becoming known in this universe as Jazz. Of course that was what you were mainly known as in the universe of your origin, but that's besides the point. Jade had left some time ago and you were soooooo bored. And hungry. ................and lonely but you can't let anyone know that in seriousness............... You suppose you could use the buzzer thing to summon the doctor but this didn't seem like an emergency to you so you just lay there staring at the ceiling. Now and then you mew or sigh a little. Being trapped with nothing but your thoughts sucks.

Karkat

Your name is Karkat Vantas and man, it turns out that war isn't actually all that exciting when it's in the first few subterfudge stages. Especially when you don't really have much to do outside of going to work and helping in small things. One of those small things is going to see if Gwen is busy or needs help in the infirmary today. You're always fond of spending time with her, so. You wander around a bit before opening a door, seeing Jazz inside, and blinking. "Oh, shit!"

Jazz

You're head pops up and you look at the troll at the door. "No shit here. Unless you mean I look like shit which today I won't ague with too much given I was shot," you grin. "Hi there~"

Karkat

"Holy shit, shot? What happened?" You squint at her a little bit, and yeah okay the bright pink hair, the tails, the ears. Who the hell else could it be. "Are you Jazz?"

Jazz

"My reputation proceeds me~" you purr in delight that you don't have to introduce yourself to him. Yes good. Kitty is pleased. "Well as I've had to tell others who come in here, Mr Diamonds shot me thinking I was someone else and brought me here after. I am currently in the process of possibly being hired. But trust is a rare commodity so thus I am..." you yank a little on the cuff on your one arm that holds you to the bed. "Detained."

Karkat

"Oh, shit. That's, uh, pretty fucking wild." You consider it for a second. "Though not surprising. It's a bad time to be cat shaped and unknown in this city. But you seem like you're holding up pretty well, all things considering."

Jazz

"So I hear, but cats land on their feet," you wink. "And who do I happen to be speaking to?" you ask him curiously.

Karkat

"Oh. Karkat. We spoke on the blogs, but I'm not like, shocked you don't recognize me or anything." You walk over and offer out a hand. She seems nice enough so far, and if she's as new as she's said she is, she's probably harmless.

Jazz

You look at the hand then shake it, guessing this is a thing in this universe... Though maybe it was a thing in your universe as well but you were never one to pay attention to social graces. "Nice meeting you in person~ You're a cutie~" are you flirting? Yes. You gotta flirt like you gotta breath.

Karkat

"Uh huh. That's what all the shot catgirls say." You say this as flatly as you can, but there's the faintest blush of red across your cheeks. Even you aren't immune to cute girls

Jazz

You are very good at being cute! You're twin tails wave in the air as you scooch into a relatively comfortable position. "Hmm~ Get shot catgirls that often then?" you question with a wink. Come closer... Look at how cute and pettable you are. Come on now, cute Karkat~

Karkat

"More than I'd hope, less than you'd think." You don't move closer just yet. Call it paranoia. "If you are let out, what're you thinking you'll be doing?"

Jazz

"I'm small but I'm very good at persuasion of various types, if you know what I mean~" you purr as you stretch out an arm and wave it in a paw-like beckoning gesture. "Can I ask you a huuuuuuuuge favor?"

Karkat

".......Sssssure fuck it why not. I didn't come down here because I was super excited for something, after all."

Jazz

In a piteous voice you whine, "Peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee" You make an adorable pouty lip at him as you look at him with your pupils dilated for the ultimate cute kitten look.

Karkat

You stare at her. You stare at her some more. You conider it for a moment. "So those ears of yours are real"

Jazz

"Extremely real. And my hair is super soft~" you grin as you flick your ears to show him.

Karkat

"...That is super, super fucking cool and also extremely confusing. I'll pet you but don't make it a whole fucking thing." You walk over and give her some good scritches. You're good at petting cats, because of course you lavish uncle Droog's with attention every day.

Jazz

You purr so loudly and mew with happiness. No one has pet you since... it's been a while. You hardly register what he's saying once he's petting you. So you just hum, "Huh?..."

Karkat

Okay, that's probably fine then. It seems like she really is just a big cat. Which begs, uh, a WHOLE lotta questions that can probably wait until she's officially crew or not. You ruffle her ears lightly.

Jazz

You continue to purr and your free arm curls around him and tugs him close so you can rub your cheek on his chest. Oh outer gods he's so wonderfully warm!!! You could sleep on him! "Oh I like you, nya~" you mumble.

Karkat

"Jesse you're cuddly. No wonder uncle Droog gave you a chance." You pause a bit to make sure you don't overpet her. That happens sometimes with cats, okay? And this one might have big claws.

Jazz

The pause earns him a lil kitty pout. "Why'd you stop?"

Karkat

"Oh, uh. Hey. Listen. If I don't take it careful with most cats, they tend to flip their shit and claw me up before looking at me like I've managed to become a war criminal. And it's not like I should be less careful with a human sized one"

Jazz

You giggle in amusement. "While I am very cat, I am also very human and I do have an understanding of when to use my claws and when not to, Karkat~ And clawing a potential coworker would be a rather stupid thing to do," you say with a smile.

Karkat

"Yeah, well. Lotsa folks got lotsa weird instincts. Assuming is a good way to get my ass kicked." You shrug and continue to pet her. She's surprisingly sweet??(edited)

Jazz

Your purrs resume and you are a little less lost in the pets now thank fully. You nod slightly, "Instinct is a fair concern, but I assure you that I have control over my baser instincts and will only cause harm when intended." Deciding you like this one, you also decide that you want him to want you around. "Tell me about yourself?" you ask. You generally only bother with pleasantries with those who are are enjoying and he fits that.

Karkat

"Uhhh." You consider. "I'm the son of one of the dudes who'll be your boss if you're integrated in. I like to tell people that as soon as possible so there's less of a chance of shit being weird if they find out later on."

Jazz

"Oh cool. So given what I know..... I'm going to guess that you are the son of.... Spades Slick? That's the name, yes? I'm pretty good with names I bother remembering," you say playfully.

Karkat

"Hey, good guess! Or, probably less guess and more "huh he looks too scrummy to be Droog's kid and he's not bee themed enough to be Deuces, and Boxcars is not nearly as angry" but you know what? I'm still gonna give you props."

Jazz

"I'll be honest... Diamonds Droog and Spades Slick are the only boss names I know at the moment," you giggle. "You didn't react in a way that indicated Mr. Diamonds is your father when I mentioned him, so I guessed the only other name I knew."

Karkat

"Oh, shit, man. You're gonna fit in great? We love clever shit like that here."

Jazz

You beam at the praise. Yes you are a clever kitty. Let the praises rain down upon you. "I'm glad. I intend to be extremely useful~" You have to admit... You're excited to rip into some people and not think about your problems. "I have a question if you have any knowledge on the topic," you say before meowing once.

Karkat

"Sure, I probably have at least some knowledge. You learn a lot of shit just meandering, around here."

Jazz

"Is having side employment permissible? I am personally interested in breaking into the porn industry," you purr deeply.

Karkat

"Oh. Uhhh." You try very hard not to blush and fail. "It's fine, yeah. I work at one of the casinos. With the...issues going on, though, I dunno how safe it would or wouldn't be. Plus, that's not my area of know how."

Jazz

"Well I'd be recording stuff and uploading it online. It's not like I'd be meeting clients in person," you chirp. What a cute blush~ It makes you nuzzle your cheek on him again. "I suppose I'll have to get approval from those in charge when the time comes~"

Karkat

"It won't be too hard, to be fair. They don't really mind. We're just all a bit, uh, on edge." You wonder how much you should be saying. Though, it is pretty damn obvious what's been going on even to people who have no connection to the gangs.

Jazz

"I am aware the tensions in this city are rising to warring levels. One of the first things I did upon getting here was try to get a basic understanding of the situation at hand," you let him know. "I know someone important died though that is about it."

Karkat

"...Yeah." You clear your throat and make yourself a little more comfortable. "You'll learn more about it if you're let in. Or if you listen enough, anyhow. It's not exactly a great big secret."

Jazz

Your empathy is not great so you don't exactly pick up fully on the cues of his reaction, but you at least know that it wasn't exactly positive. "I'm sorry for your loss," you tell him. That's what normal people say, yes?

Karkat

Don't worry Jazz, empathy is not exactly common in a whole lot of the city. He does look appreciative of it, though, and rubs his chin. "Thanks. Hey, do you need anything down here? I know Miss Paint is a really good lady, but I figure you might want something to entertain yourself."

Jazz

"Oh please!!! I'm gonna die of boredom!" you say dramatically before adding, "Also she's been out a while and I'm getting hungry. Got any fish?"

Karkat

"No fish on me, but I could probably grab some. And, I have like, a shitton of books"

Jazz

Books.... You used to love books so much. Before.... before... "I would greatly appreciate it and some books," you smile. ...... you try not to think of before.... she's gone.

Karkat

"Awesome. I have...mostly romance I'll admit but uhhh I can get you other stuff. I don't think it'd be hard."

Jazz

"I'll take whatever you offer," you tell him with a purr. You're not eager to let go of his warmth, but you do because sadly you cannot keep him forever.

Karkat

"okay." You think about what else you can do. Probably nothing too much. Gwen will eventually return, and Droog hasn't made a proper decision yet. It wouldn't be right for you to fuck things up no matter how much you like Jazz. But... "Are you totally cliche and like milk?"

Jazz

You laugh a little and give him a chagrinned smile, "Most cats are actually lactose intolerant and sadly I am one of them. I am cursed to a life without ice cream."

Karkat

"Oh fuck! Well- Uhh there's tons of non dairy shit in the city at least? Hahaha uhhhh I can bring you something else to make up for this fuck pax." GREAT JOB KARKAT, YOU BIG GODDAMN MORON.

Jazz

You pat his shoulder, "It's alright. It's not a commonly known fact and there's no reason for you to have assumed I am lactose intolerant just because cats are. I like meats the most but if not, most sweets will do."

Karkat

"Cool, awesome. Uhhh, did they take your phone?"That seems like something they'd do for maybe-prisoners.

Jazz

"Yup! Shall be returned when I am tested and not wherever here is. It's only smart business so I understand," you tell him with a smile.

Karkat

"Ahh, alright. Well, I figure you can still contact Paint..." You mumble this last part to yourself. You worry, alright? "Cool, I'll be back in a little bit with the goods."

Jazz

You show him the pager. "In case of emergency I was told, but yes I am not completely without means of contact if required. And I'll be waiting Karkat~"

Karkat

You give her the thumbs up and head back out, mentally berating yourself the whole damn way. You come back in about a half an hour, with the smell of fish, water, and good books attending you.

Jazz

You cheer his return like he is a triumphant hero! "Fiiiiiish!!!!!"

Karkat

"We had some tuna in the fridge, so I just kinda. Cooked it. Uh. I'm not the best cook by any means but it should at least be edible." You put it on the nightstand next to the bed. "And the books- Uh. A couple of history novels, a romance. A recent edition of the newspaper."

Jazz

"That is wonderful. Thank you Karkat," you tell him with a purr. "Can You stay or do you have to go?"

Karkat

"I gotta leave, for work. But at least you got some stuff, right?" You know this sucks. You can't imagine something like this not sucking??

Jazz

Oh you've been cooped up in a much more sucky situation. Maybe he'll unlock your backstory someday~ "This is perfect. Thank you Karkat~" you assure him since you think he'd like that. "I'll be doing fabulous."

Karkat

"No problem." There's the blush again. "I hope I'll get to see you later."

Jazz

You blow him a kiss and wink, "TTFN, Ta ta for now~ Meow!"

Karkat

You think she's hilarious but also makes you very nervous so you can only manage a small laugh before skedaddling. A+ work, Vantas.

Jazz

A cutie. Absolute cuties. In your mind he is on the list of things you consider vaguely yours because you are a cat and you own anyone you like.