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capricorn-stark · 4 years ago

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Unexpected Encounters

pairing: dick grayson x reader, first encounter

warning: n/a

a/n: yeah I got nothing, pretty casual fic

part 2

Bludhaven was a city so miserable, it could give Gotham a run for its money any day of the week.

You would know - after having lived in Gotham for most your life, only to end up relocating to Bludhaven for your job, you could whole-heartedly say that Bludhaven made you long for your dark, perpetually rain-drenched city. The place was practically like Gotham’s Crime Alley - if Crime Alley had been expanded to a house an entire city of people.

One of the biggest differences between the two, however, was that there was no silent guardian preventing the crime rate from steadily crawling upwards with each passing hour, no Dark Knight in the form of some stranger dressed up in a bat costume to save his citizens from killer clowns and watered-down furries in penguin costumes. In Bludhaven, you would simply manage to survive on your own, or you would get mugged and end up at the bottom of its polluted harbor for some poor soul to find weeks later.

And that was simply how life was.

Granted, those kind of thoughts definitely were not offering you comfort as you walked down the streets of Bludhaven yourself, keys between your fingers and the feel of your gun concealed in your other hand as you kept carefully drifting beneath the lights of the dying streetlamps, cautious of directing any sort of attention to yourself. You had missed your bus home after working a bit too late, and you couldn’t exactly wait around for the next one to arrive in another two hours.

Luckily for you, you saw no real dangers tonight.

Maybe, for once, it would be a quiet trip home.

Naturally, you were immediately proven wrong.

You were a generally cautious person, as anyone who grew up in a city like Gotham had to be in order to survive there at all. You were careful of your surroundings, who you talked to, who you ran into, and where you walked. You were in no way stupid enough to go into a random alleyway because it just so happened to be a conveniently located “short-cut”. Ever.

You were smarter than that.

But you hadn’t noticed the presence of a man in a dark and worn hood trailing behind you for what, as far as you knew, could’ve been quite some time now, formerly concealed in the crowds you had walked through. He was only a few feet away from you now, his steps quickening ever so slightly when he noticed you catching sight of him in the window of a passing store. You remembered that you had seen that same man nearly five minutes prior a few blocks before.

That, as anyone could’ve guessed, was definitely not a good sign.

The crowds were thinning as you edged closer to your part of the city, fewer and fewer people lining the stores and alleys, with even fewer who looked like they would help you if you happened to need it. You couldn’t exactly dart into the nearest corner store and expect him to leave you alone, there was a much higher chance of him simply leaving your line of sight altogether and reappearing when you finally stepped outside. If you tried to book it, you were more than certain that a man that size could easily catch up.

The last option you had was a confrontation, but living in places like this for as long as you had, you were sure it could escalate immediately and leave you in a much, much worse situation. You had a gun, but you couldn’t gauge how effective it would be if he happened to have one himself, and this was Bludhaven.

Everyone had a gun.

So, all your options were bad. You felt your grip around your gun tighten anyways as you walked faster, cursing under your breath as you noticed him doing the same behind you. Your heart was racing now, breath quickening as you tried to tell yourself that you were almost home, that you just had one more block to go before-

“Excuse me, ma’am. Are you alright?��

You looked up at the source of the new voice that had gotten you to stop in your tracks and meet a pair of bright blue eyes. The man in front of you offered you a reassuring smile as he tapped the badge on his uniform.

Bludhaven Police Department.

“Someone bothering you?”

You turned your head to look back at where the man following you had been, only to feel a chill run down your spine as you realized he had disappeared into the shadows of the city, as if he hadn’t been there at all.

“I thought-” You cut yourself off, still staring at the people milling around left and right. “I thought there was someone-” He seemed to notice how shaken you were immediately, tearing his gaze away from the crowd and finally settling back to you, lips curving into another soft smile. Despite everything, it was strangely comforting to see.

“If it makes you feel better, I can walk you to your destination.” You couldn’t bring yourself to decline when your heart was still racing in your chest, so you managed a nod. The man pulled his jacket around him as he moved to fall into step alongside you after one last look into the crowds. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, I am now,” you brushed off, wrapping your own jacket a little closer around your body as you made yourself fixate your gaze on the path ahead. Your fingers were hurting from the previous clutch of your keys. The gun had finally been fully tucked away. “Thanks, Detective-” You cut yourself off to get a closer look at his ID. “Grayson?”

“Richard,” he offered with another smile, glancing at you in turn. “Well, I go by Dick, but-” he caught sight of your expression and laughed, shaking his head. “Richard’s fine, too.” You felt your face burn red and you tried to clear your throat.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s all good, I get it a lot. Can I ask for yours?” You chuckled a little before introducing yourself to him, shaking your head dismissively when he commented that it suited you.

“Am I making you leave your post or something?” Dick waved that off immediately, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“Nah, I’m just patrolling this area tonight. I was about to head into the café down the street for some coffee when I saw you, and I thought you seemed a little alarmed.” His tone was even but kind, and it was easy for you to tell that he had been in this type of situation a million times before. “If you need anything, medical assistance, filing a report, I can take care of that.”

You nodded slightly again, taking another deep breath as you felt your panic finally subside. His presence was comforting, and you were glad he was with you for the rest of the walk home. You still couldn’t bring yourself to think about what might’ve happened if he hadn’t shown up.

You wouldn’t be missing the bus again any time soon, that was certain.

“I was just surprised,” you finally started, feeling a twinge of embarrassment creep up your face for no apparent reason. As if you were the one who should’ve been more careful. “I didn’t see him - I guess I wasn’t as careful as I thought I was.”

“Don’t think that’s on you, because it wasn’t your fault,” he started at once, apparently having been able to read your mind. “Creeps like that are running around all over this place, you can’t expect to see all of them coming. I’m just glad you’re alright.” You nodded again, pulling the jacket a little tighter before you sneaked another glance up at him.

You hadn’t exactly seen much of what he looked like beneath the dingy light of the streetlamps, but as you edged towards your apartment complex, you could finally see his face beneath the brighter lighting.

You noticed the striking blue eyes first, of course, accompanied by strong, defined features, jet black hair, and a surprising look of youthfulness despite the fact that he had sounded like he’d be a bit older. The light crinkles by his eyes told you he was the kind of person who tended to smile a lot.

Clearly, he was very, very handsome.

“I’m actually pretty new to this whole gig,” he commented as he scanned around the street you were on, snapping you out of your not-so subtle staring. “Moved from Gotham a few months ago, found a job with the BDP. They definitely appreciated having new hires around, with the state this city’s in.”

“So did I,” you blurted out in surprise, causing him to raise a brow at you. “Not working with the BDP - but I moved here a few months ago, too, from Gotham. I lived there my whole life.”

“Well, look at that,” he laughed, seeming rather incredulous but certainly pleased at the finding. “I guess we have that in common. Some move, huh, thinking Gotham’s about as bad it gets before getting smacked with Bludhaven?” You actually laughed at that in turn, nodding in agreement.

“No super-people flying around to save the place, either. Tragic.”

“I’m sure one’s gonna show up around here eventually,” he dismissed, following you when you motioned towards your building in the distance. “If there’s any place that needs some of them around, it’s here.”

“As what, Bludhaven’s version of Batman?” you deadpanned, imagining what things would be like if another man in a bat costume started running around and beating up street-thugs. At least the crime rates might dip. “As long as he doesn’t come with more psychotic clowns, I guess we could use one. Even if that means changing my insurance plan to fit him in.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Dick agreed, corners of his lips twitching into another almost mischievous grin that caused your face to redden in the dark. “Doesn’t have to be another Batman, maybe it’ll be someone new.”

“As long as they take care of the city, I think I won’t care who it is,” you decided with another light chuckle, stopping in front of your building and looking up at him. “I just hope they’ll be cut out for the job.” He stopped in front of you with another smile, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see, huh?” You found yourself mirroring the action, feeling rather amused by the statement.

“I guess we will.”

The brief moment of silence between you was interrupted by him clearing his throat, moving to grab the handle of the door for you at the same time you tried to do it yourself, ending with the both of you promptly colliding apologizing profusely while backing away from the door altogether.

“Sorry, I didn’t - sorry-” he cut himself off by reaching out to pull the door open for you again with an awkward laugh, not unlike your own. “I hope I’ll see you around here on a better note,” Dick finalized with one last apologetic grin, letting you slip past him and into the building.

“You mean when I’m not speed-walking away from creeps running around Bludhaven?” you chuckled in response, shouldering your bag off-handedly. “Definitely, I agree. Thank you, Dick.”

He made a show of dramatically tipping his hat towards you before turning on his heel, still smiling to himself.

“Pleasure’s mine.”

#pandemonium scrawl #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dc #dc comics #dc multiverse #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing #nightwing x you #dc imagine #batfam imagine #fanfic #reader insert #reader imagine #gender neutral reader

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imkylotrash · 4 years ago

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The Art Of Starting Over (Chapter 6)

Pairing: Saul Silva x reader, Andreas x reader

Summary: It's time to fight back.

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @anreeixcobra @kingunder221b @lflores2008 @alexiapayne12 @quarterback-5 @estelmei @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @artsyle @baueoud @glowingatdawn @shadowhuntyi @alice-the-nerd

A/N This is very much a filler with some background info, but I promise the next chapter will have plenty of drama and angst. It will also be the final chapter ✨

"A pleasure to meet you. I've heard nothing about you." You roll your eyes at the spiteful comment hoping he won't keep this up for the entirety of your stay. Saul extends his hand, but you're quick to push it back down.

"Cormac isn't a fan of touching," you say never breaking eye contact with him. He's mulling over the entire situation in his head, and you have no idea which way he'll sway.

"Come in. I was just making some tea." You follow him inside taking a seat at the large wooden dining table. Nothing's changed in here, it's like stepping into the past. There's a wall with shelves filled with different herbs that you're already itching to check out. You've always loved nature and the many medical advantages it offers if you know what you're doing - plus Saul has that cut that could use a nice paste of herbs.

"How much of our history have you shared?" You hate the calm, sickly sweet version of Cormac because it means he's angry. He's angry you've brought a stranger into his home, and he's angry you're here in the first place. An apology would do his mood wonders but even after all this time, you don't feel like you were in the wrong back then.

"Only the beginning."

"And yet, the ending is much more interesting." Saul keeps quiet through all of this, and you're thankful he's so good at picking up the mood. He takes your hand under the table though to offer some silent support, and you give his hand a little squeeze to let him know you appreciate it.

"People needed our help. You didn't want to leave this house, I thought you were wrong." The village that had sent you to inspect the animals were overrun by pillagers and when you had told Cormac, he'd simply shrugged and continued whatever he was doing. You couldn't remember the exact details but bottom line, Cormac had refused to help innocent and defenceless people because he didn't want to risk giving away the location of his home, and while you'd called him every name in the book, he still refused to go. It was humanity at its worse, and Cormac Wren couldn't be bothered.

"I remember it a little more complicated than that." He puts down three mugs on the table filled to the brim with green herbal tea. You're not exactly surprised when he fishes out a flask and adds a little spice to his own.

"You told me if I left, I shouldn't ever come back. It wasn't all that complicated." You're struggling to see what he's trying to get at, but he doesn't let you wonder too long.

"I also once said I didn't like cocoa which is foolish. Everyone loves cocoa."

"I hate cocoa," Saul chips in lightening the mood. Even Cormac can't hide the little smile. It's clear that Cormac is trying to read Saul, but he seems pleased so far.

"What I meant is that things said in anger shouldn't be taken seriously. I never meant you couldn't return." And just like that, he's back to being your mentor. It's hard being back here and hold onto anger towards him, but you also know that you can't let yourself hope that he'll help this time. It'll only lead to disappointment, and you can't allow any sort of distractions.

"I'm sorry I left things the way I did." You're still clutching onto Saul's hand under the table loving the feeling of his touch. It's been days since you've had time for anything even remotely resembling intimacy, and you have a feeling it'll be a while before you'll have a moment to yourselves.

"Water under the bridge. What's the plan?"

"I'm not asking for your help. We needed a place to stay while we figured out our next move."

"I know you're not asking. I'm offering," Cormac says much to both Saul and your surprise. He may not look different, but he's definitely had a change of heart.

"We'll need support from the other realms. Maybe you can reach out to them?" Cormac nods waving his hand and immediately, a bird lands next to him. He whispers in its ear before sending it off.

"Done." It's a call to arms, and you can only hope they'll respond.

"We'll need a plan of attack as well. It's pointless to have help if we don't know what to do once we reach Alfea," Saul says. This is the part where all his training and experience as a soldier becomes relevant. You know he'll be able to come up with a plan better than any of you.

"Do you have something I can draw on?" he asks Cormac who's quick to provide. You're not entirely sure why he's decided to help, but you're not about to question his motives. You need him on your side.

"This is Alfea, and here's the barrier..." You get lost in Saul's explanations as he contemplates a plan of attack. He'll say one thing the first minute, and then he'll change his mind only seconds after. But he knows the school like no other, and he has an incentive to make the perfect plan.

"We'll need to reach out to Farah and Ben too," you say looking over at Cormac. You furrow your brows in confusion when he doesn't summon another messenger bird.

"Oh, I thought you knew."

"Knew what?" By the look on his face, you can tell it's something you don't want to know.

"Farah's dead."

#winx saul silva #saul silva imagine #saul silva blurb #saul silva x reader #saul silva #winx club #winx netflix #fate netflix #fate the winx saga #fate winx club #fate #ftws #fate winx

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pandoraborn · 4 years ago

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Characters: Captain Puffy, Tommyinnit Word count: 1510 words Content: death, ghost!Tommy, mentions of abuse, closure, peace

---

As she wanders the ruins of L’Manburg, Puffy stops at every landmark. Even now, there’s wood smoldering, as if unwilling to put out the flames of destruction Dream had caused. She knows now it was Dream, she can understand more what he’d done behind the scenes when no one else was paying attention.

She’s not sure why she’s here or what she’s looking for. There’s nothing here but a few broken chests with cracked and splintered remains of what Tommy used to own. Puffy could try to salvage anything that’s left, but that would also go against the whole purpose of turning this place into a monument.

She leans against the large tower not too far away. This must be the one Tommy jumped off of before running to Techno’s. It’s easy enough to guess that’s what happened, what with Tubbo rushing back in tears to announce Tommy’s death, before sweeping everything under the rug. God, she can’t imagine how he’s feeling now.

Tears spring to her eyes as he pulls away from the tower. It’s pointless to dwell on everything negative here, it’s pointless to even be here. Puffy knows she’s only here to assuage her own guilt over letting Tommy remain in exile, even though she’d tried her best to help him cope.

“I wouldn’t feel too guilty if I were you.”

Puffy almost wants to chalk that up to a hallucination. She wants to pinch herself and tell herself this is a dream, but when she turns toward the water, the ghostly form of Tommy is sitting there, letting his bare feet dangle.

He looks like he did before exile: a healthy teenager with no wear and tear. He’s sitting, with one leg drawn up to his chest and resting his arms on that knee. In his hands is some of Wilbur’s blue, and Tommy’s got a grin on his face.

Most notable is the lack of grey pigment in his skin. He’s very clearly a ghost, but he doesn’t actually look like one.

“Tommy?” Puffy feels like the air had been knocked out of her. “You’re... you’re here?”

“Yeah, isn’t it weird?” He laughs as he tosses blue at her feet. His eyes are shining a bright blue, brighter than they had been in life. “One minute I’m screaming for Sam to let me out, and the next minute I’m sat here, contemplating everything. I’ve come to the conclusion that it sucks.”

Puffy remains silent as she bends down at the knee, gently grabbing at the blue. Trembling fingers grasp at it as she straightens back up, staring at the small object. The silence drags on for too long, so she opts to sit down next to him.

“Tommy-”

“You know, I never understood why Ghostbur kept throwing blue at everyone,” Tommy interrupts. “I thought it was just something he did, y’know? He was weird like that, but I was just so happy to have him around that I accepted it as one of his many annoying quirks. But now I think I understand more. It’s easy to let things go if you don’t have to think about them. I can just take this shit, fill it with my own shit and trauma and whatever, toss it out and move on. It’s like it’s physically gone.”

“You remember?” Puffy watches him through her peripheral vision. He’s manifesting more...whatever it is, watching as it turns to blue. He hands her another one. “Wilbur didn’t remember.”

“I wanted to remember. I wouldn’t be as awesome if I was some fake happy version of myself, would I?”

She has to admit that he’s right.

“Look, I see it all over your face Puffy. I just wanted to tell you to stop feeling guilty, alright? You didn’t do it. You couldn’t have prevented it.”

Tears fill her vision. “It was my job to protect you. You were a child, Tommy. I should have done more for you.”

“I wouldn’t have let you in, you know. You or Sam or anyone who wanted to help. I was responsible for me, I didn’t want anyone’s pity.” He tosses a blue into the water. Puffy watches it slip below the surface. “It’s why Sam Nook was created. If Sam had tried to help directly I would have pushed him away. You don’t have to feel so guilty.”

“But we do, Tommy. We do feel guilty, we do feel responsible. You might feel like it was just you against the world, but we did care.”

“I know. I’m glad you cared; that was more than enough for me. Sometimes that’s all I want from anyone, is just to know.” He offers her a more gentle grin. It’s so Tommy, but it’s also something far wiser than he should have to be. As if he knows what’s waiting for him on the other side.

“Are you going to be around, like Ghostbur?”

“Nah. I’m not giving that green bastard a chance to toy with me. You know he’s going to, so I’m going to take my L and move on with Wilbur. He’s waiting for me, you know.”

Fresh tears spring to her eyes. The idea that Tommy doesn’t want to stick around feels hollow, but she can understand his logic there, too. “So we’ll never see you again?”

“Puffy.” Tommy sighs as he presses a hand to her shoulder. He uses her as stability while getting to his feet. “Sometimes people don’t come back after death, y’know. Schlatt and Wilbur did, but sometimes they just don’t. I don’t have any unfinished business. Mine was bringing Wilbur back, but since I’m not around anymore, there’s really no point to it, is there?”

“Yeah, but your friends-”

“-don’t need me as much as they think they do.” There’s another one of his bright smiles. “This isn’t a sad ending, Pussy. What was it you were saying yesterday? This is a new age, isn’t it? You and Sam, you two are going to lead them somewhere new. Build a statue in my honor, alright? Make it the coolest statue ever. Bigger than anyone else, so the world will know how big of a man I am.”

Puffy laughs. Not just at his words, but his purposeful use of the name ‘Pussy’. Even now, he’s resorting to being obnoxious and crude, and she knows she’s going to miss it. “Tommy, you were the best of all of us.”

“Nah.” He snorts and shakes his head. “Do me one last favor, will you?”

“If it’s to beat up Dream, I’ll gladly take that on.”

“Okay, well two favors then.” Tommy’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “Give some blue to Tubbo, will you?” He offers her a few pieces, which she takes carefully, treating them like something extremely fragile, which they are.

“Any message you want me to pass to him?”

“Yeah: ‘it’ll be okay’.”

“That’s it?” Puffy lifts an eyebrow. “No ‘I love you’, no ‘you’ll carry on my legacy’, anything like that?”

“Puffy, Tubbo doesn’t need messages like that. He’s not that deep.” Tommy rolls his eyes. “No, just that it’ll be okay. He’ll be okay without me, he’ll be okay being Tubbo. He’s got Snowchester and shit, he’ll be okay.”

Puffy nods. “I’ll give him the blue and the message then, Tommy. Are you off?”

“Yeah. I can already hear Wilbur screaming at me and calling me a child. I’ve got to go punch his stupid face in, because I’m a big man and I can take him, even dead.”

Puffy laughs at that. Even with tears streaming down her cheeks, she feels a new sort of joy. “Tommy, can I hug you goodbye?”

No words are exchanged here, Tommy silently complies. He feels warm, so she wraps her arms firmly around him, holding him close. The hug is doing wonders; it’s like every inch of sadness is being pulled out of her, like he’s trying his best to help. When he finally pulls away, Puffy still feels light.

“It’ll be okay, Puffy,” Tommy says. He drops more blue at her feet. “Don’t let shit get you down too much, alright? You’re Captain Puffy, and you know better than anyone what needs to be done. But also don’t hesitate to ask for help when you need it.”

With that, he’s gone. Disappeared into some beyond, or afterlife, or wherever he’s going. Puffy doesn’t necessarily know where that might be, but knowing he’s with Wilbur in the end has her feeling better.

Bending down, she picks up the last of the blue. She wonders if when they all die, they’ll end up with blue, but that’s a fleeting thought as she puts it all in her backpack.

He’s right, it is a new age. She’s not going to let him down by wallowing in misery, not when she has a whole server to clean up. Marching toward the portal, Puffy wears a smile on her face. She’s got a new pep in her step, and she’s not going to let anyone take that away from her.

Not this time.

#mcyt #mcyt fanfiction #dream smp #dream smp fanfic #spoilers #spoilers fic #death tw #ghost!tommyinnit #tommyinnit #captain puffy #c!tommy #c!puffy #peace #closure #abuse mention #bittersweet #long post #miishae writes

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fuckingrecipes · 4 years ago

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Dif anon I would like tips on food to keep in storage in a car for about 4 days. I was thinking a couple premise pb+j but not sure what else. No dietary restrictions or anything, just not sure what would be filling enough that wouldn’t have to supplement with gas station food. Thanks so much!

Since you both are asking about ‘Long Term Car Meals’ , I’ll put it all here.

Peanut Butter and Jelly can both be kept at room temperature. Bread... does go bad faster when left in a hot car, but a few days should be fine.

I used to put some Peanut Butter and Jelly into a plastic bag. When it’s time to make a sandwich, tear the corner of the bag(s) and squeeze your PB&J onto the bread, for fresh non-soggy sandwich!

Then just like, paperclip or clamp the torn tip to save the rest for later. (Or avoid the baggies and buy squeezable containers in the first place)

Also: Bags of precooked meat, like tuna or shredded chicken. They’re sterile until opened.

Commercially produced mayonnaise, as opposed to the homemade version, does not need to be refrigerated. It’s high in salt and acid, which both are enough to kill bacteria. I’d get the squeeze bottle instead of the open jar, so there’s less mess.

Mustard also doesn’t need refrigeration - just give it a good shake before using to mix the water back in (It’ll separate out faster when warm)

Just tear open the tuna bag, dump in some mayo + mustard, mix it up and eat out of the bag or spread it on bread.

If you are living in your car - If you have a sun-reflector for your windshield, you can put an unopened can of soup or canned chili between the glass and the metallic reflector. On a sunny day with a few hours, the can’ll be so hot you have to let it cool down to avoid burning your hands.

(Throw in some smashed-up fritos and it’s pretty tasty)

Carrots can last for quite some time at room temperature.

Whole Apples, Oranges, Clemintines, Pears... Broccoli, Bell peppers... Raisins or other dried fruit.

Any sort of canned fruit or fruit cups. V8 in single cans (Veggies and fruits are often overlooked in car life, but long-term vitamin/mineral deficiencies can fuck you up good, so remember to include veggies in your diet!)

Sunflower seeds are very cheap, and provide a ton of good fat AND a distracting new habit to chew the shells off them~

Hard cheeses, like Parmesan, Romano, Chedder, Swiss, Provolone - they’ll have a weird change in texture if it gets hot, but should be able to last a few days. Cheese sticks.

Hard salami, crackers. Pepperoni, Velveta cheese keeps for a long while without refrigeration.

Pasta sauce can generally be left at room temperature for 2-5 days (as long as you don’t leave the top open for long)

Most gas stations are chill to let you use their microwave if you also top off your car, or buy some water while you’re there.

Access to a microwave every once in a while also opens up canned foods like canned baked beans, soups, and so on.

---

When living out of a car, lack of access to fresh cooked ‘Nice’ food can really kill morale.

Instead of a gas station (Everything edible is overpriced by 2-3x!) I’d recommend going to a local grocery deli section and checking out their pre-cooked foods. You can often find single servings of freshly made and still-hot fried chicken, seasoned potato fries, crispy cold cole slaws, and pot pies for cheaper than the gas station equivalent.

Sitting down with a fork at a table and heating freshly made food... it hits different. As much as you can, try to take your food out of your car and find tables/benches to eat at, for the sake of mental health.

If there IS a grocery with a deli nearby, you can also ask for a super-small amount of meat and cheese from their deli and make your own sandwich.

‘Can I have like, 2 thin slices of that turkey, and 1 thick slice of this cheese’ - they charge you by weight, so it won’t cost much at all. Head back to your car with your baggie of maple-roasted turkey, black-forest ham or horseradish swiss, and enjoy your flavors~

---

If you ARE living out of your car, and you don’t have a heat source, that’s the first thing I’d aim to get.

You can find a Single-Burner butane stove for about $36 and 12 butane refills for $15. It opens up a shitload of food choices, improves morale, and increases your food safety.

Source: Worked at a homeless shelter cafeteria for a while, and the folks were happy to compare their creative food solutions.

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shirtlesssammy · 4 years ago

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15x19: Inherit the Earth

We’re down to the end, and guys, I’m not ready. :(

Then:

THEY’RE IN LOVE

Now:

The world is empty.

Sam and Jack wander the empty streets. Dean pulls up in the Impala (still wearing his jacket with Cas’s bloody handprint. BRB CRYING.) Everyone’s gone. Dean tells the others that it’s Chuck that did this. Jack asks the IMPORTANT question: “Where’s Cas?” Dean looks down and hesitates, but eventually says, “He saved me.” He tells them the cliff’s notes version of what happened while shoving down A MILLION feelings of regret and loss and I want to hug him. “Cas is gone,” he finishes, and hahahahahahahahah NOPE. Sam, in disbelief, calls his side-ship Jody. No answer.

They head to an empty sports bar (AND WHAT I WOULD DO TO GO TO A BAR WITH FRIES AND TVs AND BEER RIGHT NOW). Jack stays outside and prays to Cas. He gets nothing and starts walking. All the flowers start to wilt as he passes them. WHAT IS HAPPENING?

Sam blames himself and is done. They decide to meet with Chuck.

They tell him that they’ll play his little game. They’ll kill each other. Dean demands that they put everything back to normal first, though. “The people, the birds, Cas.” All of it. (WEEPING.)

Dean, DEAN, Cas doesn’t want to be in a world where you don’t exist.

Yeah, Chuck doesn’t care. He’s really into the brothers' suffering alone story. “That’s deep, that’s sophisticated, that’s a page turner.” Oh, Chuck, you dumb bastard.

Cut to the bunker where they’re all suffering on their own. Jack wallows in his room. Sam wanders the halls, and Dean lays passed out on a bottle of liquor in the library. Sam finds Dean in the library, and Jack soon joins them to tell them that he’s sensing another presence in the world.

They head to a gas station. Dean heads for the bathroom, and hears a whimpering. IT’S A DOG. And Dean’s so happy to have found him. He names the dog Miracle.

Dean brings the dog out to show Sam. He tells him that Miracle is coming home with them. I AM DYING. Sam is shocked. Dean tells him not to worry because he’ll only let him ride shotgun if Sam is cool with it. Lol.

Of course, all good things must end. And Miracle dusts like everything else in existence. Dean looks around and sees Chuck giving him a smarmy salute. F U C K O F F, C H U C K. Dean doesn’t even like dogs, so there. (The patented Robert Singer ZOOM tells me that Dean does indeed care about dogs.)

(Sidenote: The dog is Cas, right? Dean’s beyond happy to see it. And is ready to let it sit shotgun, but only if Sam’s okay with it. And he’s REALLY upset that they can’t “save a dog”. Just thinking thoughts.)

They head to a church.

Once they’re in the church of very dangerously burning candles, they’re greeted by Michael.

Michael tells them that he’s been chilling here to avoid Chuck’s notice. Adam is gone. (RIP Winchester brother that never got a chance.) Michael monologs a bit about humans and stuff. Dean recognizes a little soldier when he sees one. Michael wants to help though.

Back at the bunker, Sam shows him Death’s book on God. Michael tries opening the book with no luck. (Sidenote: The DRAMA of the lights being lower is killing me.)

*Dean is In Love Alert*

The brothers take a moment alone in the dark kitchen.

Dean gets a call.

Dean takes the call and because he’s a precious bean that actually believes what he’s hearing. Cas is at the bunker. He’s outside. He’s hurt.

Dean takes off like a rocket AND I’M DYING. BBY BOY. NO.

It’s not Cas. It’s Lucifer.

UGH.

(DOUBLE UGH.)

(INFINITY UGH.)

Yeah, Lucifer totally sees what’s between Dean and Cas and gains access to the bunker because of that. Coolcoolcoolcoolcool.

He tells the brothers that the Empty kicked him out to finish Chuck. He brought a reaper to prove to the brothers that he’s good people (NOT.)

Betty is bound and gagged. (Because WHY NOT DO THAT TO A WOMAN, Buckleming.) Lucifer then kills her. (Because WHY NOT DO THAT TO A WOMAN, Buckleming.)

Betty is the new Death!

(Sorrynotsorry for the lack of pictures. I think we all know why.)

She asks for the book. If they give it to her, she can read it.

They set her up in the dungeon reading room, and she doesn’t need helpers.

Meanwhile, Lucifer is playing cards and there’s ZERO interaction with Jack and him. AND I AM LIVING. Like, it’s 100% clear that Jack isn’t his son and he does not see him as a father. Jack’s father is dead. AND I AM LIVING. (But also sad because Cas is dead.)

Lucifer does interact with Michael though. Michael does not trust his brother.

Betty pops up with the book and the end of God. Lucifer ashes her with a snap of his fingers.

(HOW?!>!>?)

Wherps, he grabs the book from her and reveals his hand. He’s working with Chuck.

Lucifer and MIchael battle it out. Jack watches. Lucifer tries to convince Jack to join the losing team.

Michael stabs Lucifer with an archangel blade. Mercifully, there are no haughty speeches or further peacocking between these two. Lucifer sparks out, gone at last. GOOD RIDDANCE.

Later, Dean has a heart to heart with Michael in the kitchen. Michael’s reeling that Chuck brought Lucifer back from the dead instead of seeking him out. But he’s definitely NOT BITTER, NOPE.

Dean reveals that Chuck’s book is open and full of mysterious Enochian symbols. Sam’s going to translate those, and figure out how Chuck dies, so they can start knocking down some dominoes!

In the library later, Sam reveals that he’s uncovered a spell to stop Chuck. (Jack was researching nephilim on the computer! Jack bby) When complete, the spell will unleash an “unstoppable force” against Chuck. They head out to a special location, light the spell, and it sends three bright beams of power into the sky.

But the spell explodes. They look up to find Chuck standing there. Chuck...chucks the Winchesters and Jack away. He thanks Michael for tipping him off. “It’s always been my destiny to serve you,” Michael tells him. But that’s not enough for Chuck to forgive him for siding with the Winchesters even once. Chuck fractures Michael into light. The last archangel bites the dust.

He turns his attention to the Winchesters. It’s time to finish them. He’s canceling the show. At the last minute, he decides it’ll be more fun to beat them to death instead of snapping them out of existence. It’s……..YIKES PRETTY BRUTAL TO WATCH. “Just stay down,” he counsels them - practically begs them. But they won’t stop. Broken and bleeding, they hold each other up against him.

Sam laughs at Chuck’s confusion. “You lose,” he tells him. Behind Chuck, the camera pans to Jack.

Chuck tries to snap Jack dead but his snapper isn’t working.

Jack lays his hands on Chuck and golden power streams from Chuck into Jack. Jack snaps his fingers once, and the Winchesters are healed. As they say in the industry...suck it, Chuck.

Sam drops Death’s book in front of Chuck, but the pages are blank. Only Death can even SEE anything in the book (making the whole “can’t open book covers” thing into nothing but a drama llama move). The Winchesters came up with a plan B and spout this in a quick exposition dump.

Michael was jealous of Lucifer being “chosen” by Chuck

They made up the story of a spell, so Michael would tell Chuck

Jack’s “bomb” quest turned him into a power vacuum - thus the dying plants

When Michael and Lucifer fought in the bunker, the power exchange charged Jack back to full nephilim strength

Chuck killing Michael and beating on the Winchesters allowed Jack to absorb god-power

“This is why you’re my favorites,” Chuck gasps. He doesn’t know what happens next, but he’s ready to die “at the hands of Sam Winchester. Of Dean Winchester, the ultimate killer.”

And. Babies. Sweeties. I know that there are lots of people who have problems with this episode but THIS! THIS. This next line makes it all worth it. Because Dean tells him, “See, that’s not who I am. That’s not who we are.” He took how Castiel sees him and he planted that damn seed in his own heart and watered it even in the depths of despair and now it’s so mighty a force that he just walks away from their lifelong tormentor. GUYS. I LOVE IT. I’m so emotional right now.

Jack confirms that Chuck won’t get his powers back. “It’s not his power anymore.” And AGAIN I am emotional thinking about fanfiction and fanart and giving this show to us when it’s all done. Ahem. Anyway. Chuck’s gonna grow old and die and be forgotten like every single human. (Ooookay that got a little dark, but I’ll allow it. This is a “to the pain” speech, after all.)

Chuck begs for them not to leave him, reduced to sniveling panic in the Impala’s dust cloud.

The Winchesters head back to a small, empty town. Jack closes his eyes in the sunshine as “Get Together” by the Youngbloods croons across the scenes. People return to the world and it’s gentle and beautiful - everyone returning to their day-to-day. “Come on people now, smile on your brother!” the song implores.

Love is but a song to sing Fear's the way we die You can make the mountains ring Or make the angels cry Though the bird is on the wing And you may not know why

Come on people now Smile on your brother Everybody get together Try to love one another Right now

And look. I know this is just a song, and this is just a show. But this is my hope for this show and these characters - steeped in darkness for so long. And this is my hope for our actual real world too. It’s hard for me to separate the two so YES I’M CRYING AS I TYPE THIS. May this song lead us into the next episode and destroy me in a fountain of hopeful light.

Erm. anyway. Miracle the dog runs into the scene! It IS a damn miracle! Dean and Sam are so proud of Jack! Jack confirms that Amara is with him and they’re in harmony. I’m so happy that Amara got a happy peaceful forever after with her nougat nephilim grand-nephew. Dean assumes that Jack’s coming back to the bunker with them. He’s top dog, “he can do whatever he wants now.” (And readers, I like that Dean says whatever “he wants” and not whatever the Winchesters want. I think it shows personal growth!)

Jack declines. He’s already home - he’s everywhere and everything. “I’ll be in every drop of falling rain. In every speck of dust that the wind blows. And in the sand, the rocks, and the sea.” Jack doesn’t want to lead people, or be prayed or sacrificed to. He wants to let them discover the truth in their own hearts, in their own time. “Chuck put himself in the story. That was his mistake. But I learned from you and my mother and Castiel that when people have to be their best - they can be. And that’s what to believe in.” I have to say, I was fervently against Jack-as-God until it happened. But just like everything to do with Jack, once it happens I just go...okay, cool. I’m on board!

In the bunker, Dean and Sam drink beer and comment on the quiet. “To everyone that we lost along the way,” Dean toasts. Sam realizes that they can write their own story now. “Just us,” he says (and it sounds like a bleak echo in the empty bunker). Behind them, the table has SW, DW, MW, Jack, and Castiel engraved and...MY HEART.

The Winchesters leave to go find out what freedom feels like and we get a montage of past scenes from the show, and characters we loved or loved to hate. Jackson Browne’s “Running on Empty” plays us off in sweet, mournful nostalgia.

The Winchesters drive into a sepia-tinged world. This episode is like my Thanksgiving plate mid-meal - all mashed together for faster plot consumption. But on a rewatch, there’s a lot to like too! It’s a goodbye to one story...

And we leave nostalgia behind. It’s time for them to figure out their own story and I AM SO EXCITED to see what happens next! (Lays some nougat candy bars on my altar for Andrew Dabb for one last vigil.)

WHERE’S THE QUOTES?

Where’s Cas?

Who’ve thought finding a dog would feel like a miracle? C’mon, Miracle!

What’s an ending?

Eternal suffering sounds good on paper, but as a viewing experience it’s just kinda...meh

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn spoilers #spn recap #spn 15x19 #inherit the earth #dean winchester #sam winchester #jack kline #chuck shurley #michael #lucifer #supernatural season 15

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nova-is-a-writer-now · 4 years ago

Text

Fools

[[zuko x reader]]

->next

Summary: Zuko and Y/N had liked eachother for a while even though neither of them knew it. Y/N tries to get over her crush for him, failing miserably. So just when she decides to let go and embrace her feelings, the new Fire lord finds himself feeling jealous and decides to take matters into his own hands

A/N: this is the first Zuko/ATLA fic i’ve ever written, so go easy on me plssss, i just finishes the show a couple days ago (a little late ik) and ever since then i’ve been OBSESSED with this man (if he’s too ooc pls let me know) . This is set a while after the coronation and it’s an AU where zuko and mai were never a thing. Hope y’all like this <3

ps: this may get a little long, i’m writting this before i finish it but i get a feeling it’s gonna be a long one so be prepared lol also it will most definitely have a pt.2 if y’all like it.

Warnings: Angst but it’ll end well i promise, swearing

-IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS DONT HESITATE TO ASK-

Things after the war ended had been chaotically peaceful. Turns out that leading an entire nation, specially when it was the one that caused the war, and reuniting the lands that had for so long been against eachother was harder than all of you thought. The fact that a group of teenagers were the head of the operation wasn’t a big advantage either.

Sure, Aang and Zuko, who were the ones who had the most important positions when it came to politics and diplomacy, had advisors and people around to help guide them, but it was still a hard job. Nevertheless, without a war or fighting, you were sure it was good for the entire group to keep busy. They’d kept a lifestyle of always moving around and being on guard for so long it would’ve been a big shock to be forced to stay still after that.

Katara and Sokka travelled back and forth from the Southern Water Tribe to the Fire nation a few times, not too often though because of how far apart the two were. That was a shame because of how close you’d grown to Katara and her motherly self, her advice and her unconditional friendship, and even to Sokka and his bad jokes, his way of teasing everyone and how he could make you smile even when you weren’t in the mood, you even missed how mad he made you sometimes. Suki went with them to spend some time away from everything, she loved her life as a Kioshi warrior but she decided she needed a break after everything she had gone through.

Aang, on the other hand, was traveling all over but mostly between the Earth kingdom, were he would very often meet with Katara, and the Fire nation. You got to see him way more often than you got to see Katara, Suki and Sokka, although he tended to be busy with avatar business. He was doing a great job, you had to admit. The people loved him, he found a way to spread his teachings and the teachings of the Air nomads to the world and uniting others helping them put aside their differences seemed to be his thing now more than ever. But most importantly he seemed truly happy, one time he even told you he finally felt like he was making all the air nomads proud, wherever they were.

Toph still wanted to be away from her parents, so she refused to go back to the Earth Kingdom. She hated the cold, not being able to use her seismic senses in the snow and being bossed around by katara, so she refused to go with them too. So when you offered her to stay with you, she accepted. She made it seem as though it was her last choice because she had to keep her tough girl reputation, but actually she liked you a lot, she saw you kind of as a big sister. You took care of her in a way no one had before, not seeing her as helpless and weak but still being there for her when she needed you. Though she’d never tell this to anyone aloud.

And Zuko was still Zuko, just that now he was a Firelord. He took his job very seriously, determined to prove wrong everyone who had said he was too young or too weak for it. He knew the big responsibility he had in his hands and he seemed to be doing really well. He had his moments, of course, where he would have outbursts of emotion and anger, but he always found his way back to being who he needed to be for his Nation, and you always helped with that. He was the one who suggested you stayed in the Fire nation as a representative of the Northern Water tribe. You were hesitant at first, but after thinking the idea over you realized you had no business up in the tribe, you’d been away for a long time and you weren’t ready to go back just yet.

The two of you had never been incredibly close in the time since he joined the gaang, but you couldn’t denied there was a connection between the two. You got his humor and he got yours, you could tease eachother all day without getting butthurt, you could open up and talk about deep stuff under the stars on a sleepless night, and spending time with him seemed easier to do than with most people. You’d brushed this off as the two of you being good friends for a good while, even after you moved into the palace and started to hang out with him more, but for the past few weeks it’s been getting harder to do.

Every time Toph, him and you ate lunch together and he sat in front of you, you couldn’t help but end up staring at him, not in a weird, creepy way but in a ‘I’m mesmerized by you why am i mesmerized by you and since when are your eyes such a beautiful shade of gold’ way. You were in denial about it but deep down you knew you were starting to have a crush on him, and eventually Toph caught up to it too.

One night after diner she pulled you into her room, closed the door and said “Listen, Snow queen, I’m kinda tired of your heart going crazy every time mister flaming pants is around so you either get over your little crush, tell him how you feel or I will personally snitch on you directly to him, understood?” You didn’t even have the guts to deny it to her, specially since she’d know if you were lying, so you just heavily sighed and looked at the floor. She must’ve felt bad for you cause she took your hand and dragged you to sit on her bed to interrogate you about the situation.

“Out of anyone you could’ve ended up liking I never saw this one coming” she told you taking a seat on the opposite side of the bed

“Don’t get me started” you threw yourself back to the bed and stared at the ceiling for a second before speaking again “Like how dumb do I have to be to crush on someone who isn’t only probably the busiest man on all kingdoms right now, but also royalty and... well Zuko. He would never like a girl like me and even if he did, he probably has to end up with a princess or something.”

“I’m not letting you drown in a pity party here, ok?” Toph pulled your wrist and forced you to sit back up and look at her. “He’s lucky a girl as decent as you is willing to put up with that temper of his and how annoying he can get. Now what are you gonna do about it?”

“Nothing?” You replied in a low voice not taking a second to think about it. Toph punched you in the arm in response “Hey, what was that for?”

“What I said before still stands, I can’t deal with you being all flustered every time he’s around, so get over it or tell him how you feel.” She spat and all you could do was grunt and throw yourself back into the bed

So you were gonna get over it then. Easy task. Never done anything easier before.

It wasn’t.

Turns out that by trying to avoid Zuko at all costs you ended up stumbling into him even more. Around the corners, in the hallways, everywhere. The plan was to just avoid him as much as possible until eventually your feelings faded away, you couldn’t have a crush on someone you didn’t even see right? Wrong. Even when you weren’t around Zuko he was still on your mind. You tried to go to the palace library and distract yourself with literature, but reading romance books only made you feel more miserable and the only other option there was were war strategy books which you weren’t very interested in. The next distraction you chose was gardening, you loved nature and you were a water bender, it was the perfect task you thought, but once again you were wrong. You turned out to be such a bad gardener, Kya who was the one in charge of the royal gardens (and who was the sweetest lady) ended up banning you from messing with her flowers ever again. The last thing you could think of to stay away from Zuko was feeding the turtle ducks. It seemed like a good idea and on the few occasions you’d been in the pond before, the little animals seemed to be very fond of you. You couldn’t mess this one up, anyone could feed the ducks, but there was a little problem as it seemed to be the theme of that day, the Fire lord had forgotten to tell you that the pond was his place of choice when he needed to clear his head.

You didn’t even notice he was there until you heard his voice behind you. “Keep feeding them like this and they’ll get obese”

You jumped a bit out of surprise and turned around to face him with your palm pressed to your chest. “Spirits, Zuko, don’t do that to me, you’re gonna kill me one of these days” It was a bright and sunny day, the heat of the Fire nation weather made his face glimmer a little, his hair was up held by the royal Fire lord hair piece and he was wearing a version of his formal attire made for a hotter weather, leaving his muscly arms on display. As soon as you realized you were staring once again, you turned your attention back to the pond in an attempt to hide the blush that was slowly conquering your cheeks.

He took a sit next to you and waited a couple seconds before breaking the silence. “Hey... um... I don’t know if this is just me but you’ve been acting weird lately, is everything ok?” He asked looking at you.

“Everything is fine, definitely just you.” you replied not taking your eyes away from the shining water of the pond. The ducks had grown tired of waiting for you to keep feeding them and swam away.

“I... don’t think so. You didn’t come to breakfast today, everytime we’re together you seem to wanna leave as soon as possible and right now you can’t even look at me.” He paused before taking in a deep breath. “Did... did I do something to upset you?”

You finally turned around to look at him and the look you saw in his eyes was heartbreaking. Ever since he joined Team Avatar, Zuko had been making a huge effort to be good. You could see how sometimes he struggled to pick being kind and gentle over being erratic and explosive, and you also knew that had a lot to do with his childhood. But he had been doing such a good job at it, specially since he became Fire lord, he was so much more friendly, better at socializing and overall improving. And right now it was clear to you that you had made him feel like he was failing at being a good person and he’d somehow messed up with you.

You turned your body around slightly and put a reassuring hand on his knee before saying “Oh, Zuko, no. You haven’t done anything and I’m not upset at you, I mean that. It’s just...” coming up with lies and excuses had always been your strong point but having Zuko there making you ridiculously nervous wasn’t a factor that helped. “I.. uh...I’m getting a little homesick, you know? With Toph gone most of the day and you busy, I’ve been feeling a little melancholic about my home, but it’s nothing I promise. I’m just trying to find something to do with my time.” You we’re impressed with yourself with this one, it actually sounded pretty convincing.

You thought you had the situation handled until Zuko spoke again a few seconds later. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized until now with all the chaos of being Fire lord but I asked you to stay here and represent the Northern Water tribe and I haven’t even given you time out of my day. I haven’t been the best host, have I?” Before you could even reply he widened his eyes and said “I have an idea, tomorrow I’ll take the day off and we can go on a small field trip to this cabin my family has on the ourskirts of town, there are some nice fields and it’s very peaceful, we’ll have a picnic lunch there and just relax. You can even ask Toph to come with. How does that sound?”

He looked at you expectantly and you started to look for reasons to turn him down, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. It was true that you hadn’t had much time to spend with him ever since he took his position, and in all honesty, crush or not you really did miss him. Your weakness for him won the battle and you ended up accepting the plan saying it was a great idea. The regent stood up from his place and assuring you he’d have everything ready for the next day he left.

You really had messed up this time.

—————

The next morning you put on a flowy, flower-print dress. It was classy but at the same time comfortable and light enough to handle the summer weather. You had nervously been looking at yourself in the mirror for way too long now. Before dinner the past night you at least had hopes that Toph would come with to the field trip and she would help you contain yourself when it came to Zuko, but of course that wasn’t the case. When he had brought the topic up at the table Toph limited herself to look at you knowingly and say “You know what? I happen to be very busy tomorrow, you know, I’m trying to get a name for myself in the Fire nation’s fighting scene and I have a fight tomorrow, sorry.” You knew she was lying because she had told you about her fight but instead of the next day it was three days from then. All you could do was look at the little devil and make sure you wrote a mental note of getting back at her as soon as you could.

So here you were, minutes ago from embarking in a field trip with the person you were supposed to avoid, and you had no idea how you were gonna get out of this one.

A knock on your door startled you and took you out of your worrying thoughts. A few seconds later a maid’s head popped in as she said “Lady Y/N, Firelord Zuko and the carriage are ready for you.” You took a deep breath and walked towards the door while replying with a soft “Thank you, Yun”

The carriage waited for you in front of the palace and so did Zuko. He was already inside, sheltering himself from the unforgiving sun, so you startled him when you hopped inside. “Y/N, you look...nice” he complimented you, a faint blush running through his cheeks making him gain a more childish and youthful look.

“Thank you, Zuko. Likewise.” You responded attempting to stay as calm as you could. You hated that he had so much power over you.

He ordered for you to be in your way before the carriage started moving swiftly. Your eyes flowed to the window, looking out at the capital city of the Fire nation. “You’ve done a great job leading this people. They look... so happy.” You drew your eyes back at Zuko as he stared at you. It was you who was starting to blush now.

“I hope so. I’ve done everything I’m capable of to change the old ways of this nation. I hope I’m making the right choices.” A worrisome look took over his eyes as he let his own attention drift towards the streets.

“Hey” you called to him as you stretched your hand to cover his. “You’re doing just fine Zuko. You’ve done so much for these people and all the other nations as well, I’m sure you’ll do even more good.”

He faintly smiled at you as a response and you could tell that although he did worry about the future, your reassurance helped.

The rest of the ride was spent pointing out the animals you saw on the road, sharing childhood stories about when Zuko and his mom used to come here when they both needed to get away from everything, and a bit of teasing about how Zuko had no idea what to pack for a picnic and had to ask the head chef of the kitchen for help. Luckily you had become friends with chef Karou in the time you’d been living in the palace and he knew your taste rather well.

When you finally arrived there was no sight of the usual movement and noise proper of a big city, the air was filled with the peculiar scent of flowers you couldn’t recognize just yet and grass. In the distance at your left you could see a small cattle of Hippo cows and Komodo chickens. And at your right a long field of grass and flowers that seemed to go up in a small and almost unnoticeable hill.

You and Zuko stepped down the carriage just as a guard handed him the picnic basket. The tall regent turned to you and ordered “Follow me, I wanna show you something”. You did as you were told, being led by him all the way up the hill until you were at the very top. When the two of you got there your breath was taken away by the beautiful view you had in front of you. A huge field of flowers layed gracefully at the end of the hill and extended far enough that it connected to the horizon.

“This is...” you started but were so taken aback by the view you didn’t finish your sentence.

Zuko seemed to understand regardless and replied “I know.” Behind you he started to set up a cloth for the two of you to sit on. You forced yourself to remove your attention from the field and place it on what was going on behind you. Taking a seat on the opposite end of the cloth you helped him take out all the items chef Karou had packed for you. When you were done you looked at Zuko and said “Thanks for this. It’s really nice.”

“No need to thank me, I’ve been leaving you alone so much time lately. I know aside from Toph I’m pretty much all you have here so take this as a ‘Sorry I’ve been a terrible friend’ offering.” He smiled wide expecting you to do the same but that smile faded away as soon as he saw the expression on your face.

‘Friend’

The word echoed in your head as your eyes dropped to the food you had in front of you. Of course he saw you as a friend. You had almost convinced yourself you should confess your feelings to him and he goes on to call himself your friend. A knot in your throat started to form and you did your best to show it as little as you could. But you obviously failed.

“Everything ok?” Zuko asked tilting his head to catch your eyes.

You looked up and faked a smile. “Yeah... just thinking how far we’ve come.” You lied through your teeth before continuing. “Anyways, enough of all the cheesiness, I’m starving.”

“Agreed” He replies picking up something for himself. You chose a small salty biscuit with a mix of meats on top and decided to distract yourself with it. “Chef Karou said you’d like that one. He also said you hated onions and peas. What type of weirdo hates peas?”

You chuckled a little, the feeling that oppressed your chest fading away quickly. “I do. They’re disgusting and if you like them I don’t trust you.”

Zuko laughed loudly before remarking “Its not like I like them, Y/N. It’s just a weird thing to be picky over. They’re peas, they don’t really taste like anything.”

You widened your eyes and quickly swallowed the bite of biscuit you had taken. “What do you mean they don’t taste like anything? They taste disgusting and they are mushy and just... gross”

Zuko replies with another laugh. His laugh made you feel warm inside, it could make you forget about everything, Toph’s threats, your previous plans and even the now faint voice poking the back of your mind telling you to be careful or you’d get your heart broken.

The two of you kept eating and chattering at the same time. You’d finished the salty food and it came time for the desert. Chef Karou had made a type of cake and stored it inside a small glass jar. You tried opening the lid but it was too hard. You heard Zuko in front of you offering you help but you refused it telling him you could do it on your own. After a couple minutes of struggling , Zuko took your deep sigh as a sign of defeat and scooted closer to you. “Here, let me.” He took the jar from your hands and quickly opened the lid, handing it back to you. You looked up expecting to find a smug smirk that felt way to familiar to you at this point but instead you found his serious face dangerously close to yours.

You took the jar back and set in down. “Thanks” you muttered softly and quietly. His only response was to slowly but firmly raise a hand up to your face to put away a strand of hair that had fallen. His touch sent shivers down your spine. All thoughts of caution escaped your mind as you felt his face so close you could feel his warm breath mixing with yours. The tension between you seemed to almost be to much to handle when you thought you saw Zuko lean in a little. Before anything else could happen, one of the guards that had come with and stayed back where the carriage was spoke. “Firelord Zuko”

The golden eyed boy dropped his hand from your face and turned around to face the guard. “Have they not taught you to not interrupt people when they’re talking privately?”

“I am very sorry, Firelord.” The guard bowed in sign of respect. “But we have just received a messenger hawk with a letter from the palace. The Avatar and you other friends are here.”

#avatar zuko #zuko imagine #fire lord zuko #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko fanfic #zuko x reader #atla fanfic #atla zuko #atla fandom #fanfiction

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winterhawk-olympic-bang · 3 years ago

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Emotive Writing

Guest Poster: @thepartyresponsible

Emotive writing is about making people Feel Things. People use this all the time to sell you stuff, but we’re out here giving emotions away for free. Here are a few tips and tricks I’ve found to make people feel the most emotions.

Word choice:

This is the most straightforward part of emotive writing. Your word choices add an extra layer of complexity to your message. You aren’t just telling readers what happened; you’re signaling to them how they should feel. Most writers do this unconsciously, but being deliberate can make it especially effective.

Here’s a non-emotive, just-the-facts sentence: The soldier lifted his weapon and turned toward the enemy.

Here’s the same sentence reworked to make you care a bit more: The exhausted soldier raised his broken shield and faced the invading army.

The actions here are fundamentally the same, but exhausted and broken invoke sympathy while invading skews negative.

The words you choose are sign posts for the reader. They indicate how to interpret the story and help your readers orient themselves and form expectations. Subtly building expectation is important because, while surprise can be effective, shock is generally numbing and confusion tends to be irritating, so word choice helps you frame things and guide your reader along.

One of the keys here is to attempt some subtlety. If every sentence about your protagonist reads like an ad campaign (effervescent, brilliant, impervious) and every sentence about your antagonist reads like a political diatribe (cruel, spineless, malicious), you’re probably overusing your sign posts. People want to know who to root for, but too much emotive language can make them feel manipulated.

Think of word choice like adding spices to food. If you put oats in boiling water, you’re making oatmeal, and the spices you use won’t change that. But if you throw in some honey and cinnamon, I know we’re headed somewhere wholesome. If you sprinkle in little discordant notes of garlic powder and cayenne, what we’re cooking is a tragedy. And if you upend an entire bottle of cinnamon, a quarter cup of nutmeg, and toss in seventeen whole cloves, I am not staying for breakfast.

Narrative distance:

Narrative or psychic distance is the space between the reader and the character, usually navigated by the intermediary figure of the narrator. Your narrator can be an omniscient figure that knows the thoughts, feelings, and intentions of every character in the world. Or your narrator could be sitting on the shoulder of your main character, close enough to hear their thoughts and know their story but not so close that they speak with the character’s voice. Or your narrator could be your character.

If you want to ramp up emotion, you usually want a narrator who is very close to one character (or, alternatively, to separate characters in turn). But you don’t have to stay at one distance for the whole story, and, just like word choice, shifts in narrative distance can be helpful indicators to your reader about the story and the characters.

A sudden, dramatic shift in narrative distance is quite jarring, like a sudden zoom-in during a movie. It can be effective, but it’ll lose its punch if it’s overused. Generally, if you want to shift narrative distance, you should build to it slowly. Here’s an example of shifting from a distant third person to a closer third person:

They wake the Soldier because the archer is missing. He has a habit of slipping his lead, disappearing post-mission. The chase grew tedious years ago, but the Soldier runs it just the same. He’ll do as he’s told. But it bothers him, when he lets it. The why.

Why does he do this? the Soldier wonders, when he shouldn’t, when it isn’t his place. Where is he going? he thinks, when he can’t stop himself. Who is he running to? But he tries to think nothing at all.

Another trick of narrative distance is to suddenly pull back to show a character who’s been compromised, shocked, or deeply hurt by something. Imagine spending a long time in a close Bucky perspective, hearing his thoughts, and then being abruptly walloped across the face with: The machine went quiet, and the Soldier opened his eyes. Zooming out can emphasize what’s been lost. Because you aren’t just taking the soul of Bucky Barnes right out of him, you’re also taking that closeness away from the reader. You’re silencing the voice they’ve been listening to.

Whether you zoom in or out during highly emotional moments depends on what you’re trying to accomplish and also on who’s involved. Some characters have loud, messy emotions that will get louder when they’re hurt. Some characters will freeze over and push a narrator further away. You can use narrative distance to show a character slowly opening up or suddenly slamming a door. But you need the reader to have a solid understanding of the character in order to follow what the shift means, which leads to the next component.

Know your characters:

So, here’s the thing. You gotta Velveteen Rabbit this. Every character is Tinker Bell. If you stop believing, they die.

If you want people to care about these characters, you have to treat them like living, breathing, fully feeling people. They have favorite colors. They have phobias. They have Friday night plans and blisters from new shoes and sesame seeds stuck in their teeth. They have superstitions and secrets. You don’t need to know all of these facts, but you should try to give the impression that someone could know them. The more real your characters are, the more we’re going to care about them.

Since this is fanfiction, you start with a receptive audience. Your readers are fond of these characters. Figure out why. Figure out which parts of the character you can relate to and dig in until you feel like you can understand the parts of them you can’t relate to.

Try to collect things that make you feel close to that character. I always have music playing when I’m writing, so I make playlists for characters and playlists for stories. If I feel like I’m losing a character, I’ll go back to their playlist. But you could also use Pinterest boards, reread favorite fics or comics, rewatch movies or fanvids, or spend an unreasonable amount of time researching bows and tactical knives. Whatever works!

Also, remember, your characters don’t know what story they’re in. They don’t know it’s going to end well (or terribly). Maintain that tension, because that’s where the emotions are. When you watch a good horror movie, you’re not really scared of the monster. You’re scared for the characters, because they don’t know if they’re going to survive.

Emotions come from the characters. That’s why it’s still sad that Tony Stark dies, no matter how many times you watch it happen. Tony Stark was brave and flawed and usually right and often sarcastic, and it hurts to watch him die because that’s a full, unique human we’re losing. We know him well enough to know he’s choosing to sacrifice himself and why he made that choice and who will mourn him.

Know your characters, and let them be messy and weird and wrong and hopeful and cantankerous and unique. Fear is relatable, flaws are relatable, and awkward, ungainly, stubborn progress is relatable. Just remember what it is that makes their progress their progress because, if you can swap Dominic Toretto in for Ted Lasso and have the exact same story, you’ve probably lost your characters.

Plan your emotional trajectory:

Okay, time to get a bit technical. This is for people who like to plan. For those terrifying, godlike writers who just sit down and write, this might not be helpful. For my fellow planners:

There’s a theory (which you can get a general overview about here or, if you’re very into data, right here) that there are six core emotional trajectories in narratives:

1) Rags to riches (rise)

2) Riches to rags (fall)

3) Man in a hole (fall then rise)

4) Icarus (rise then fall)

5) Cinderella (rise then fall then rise)

6) Oedipus (fall then rise then fall)

Since rise and fall can mean different things, I find it helpful to combine these building blocks with emotional axes, which you can find some examples of here.

So, basically, for my winterhawk baseball au Got a Heart in Me, I Swear, I planned to follow the “man in a hole” trajectory (fall then rise) along the anxiety-confidence emotional axis with some bleedover from the humiliation-pride axis. Which basically means Clint started comfortable enough, nosedived deep into anxiety and humiliation, and then slowly built his way to confidence over the rest of the fic.

If the listed axes don’t appeal to you, you can very easily create your own. Just think of an emotion, identify what links it to its inverse, and then list the related emotions between the two opposites. Disgust and adoration are opposites, but they’re linked by attention, right? You can’t ignore something you find disgusting or adorable. So, here’s an example emotional axis you could follow: Disgust – Resentment – Obsession – Fascination – Reverence – Adoration. Enemies to lovers, anyone?

Emotional axes help provide a natural framework for your character’s emotional trajectory. They can be subtle; you don’t have to start on one end of the spectrum and go all the way to the other. A story that moves just a step or two on an emotional axis can be incredibly compelling. That small progress from discomfort to hope can hit really hard if the progress feels fought-for and earned and real.

Tips for writing emotions:

· Get physical: If you want to show an emotion instead of telling it, describe its impacts on the body. Most characters won’t think I’m embarrassed. They’ll feel a drop in their stomach like someone cut the elevator cables and a hot stinging in their face like they’ve been slapped by some disappointed version of themselves. The more visceral your descriptions, the more the reader will feel them. If you want your reader to feast on feelings, you have to set the table.

· Dramatic zoom: When something very intense happens, shift the narrative distance. In or out is fine, but a sudden, dramatic event should result in a sudden, dramatic change in focus. Characters might hyperfocus on their physical bodies (the mechanics of breathing, the ringing in their ears, the mad animal urge toward flight) or they might be kicked so far out of their own heads that they feel like they’re dreaming or watching the scene play out from overhead. This distance is useful for two reasons: it feels real, and it allows readers to absorb the situation in pieces, without being overwhelmed by it.

· Unreliable narrator: Some emotions can be so charged that people don’t want to own them, like grief, shame, jealousy, rage, lust, and guilt. Characters might unconsciously misrepresent these to themselves as something else. A grieving mother might insist she’s tired. A rehabilitated assassin who’s fallen in love with an absolute dork might tell himself he’s just tracking a target. Everyone knows what it’s like to lie to themselves, so this makes characters relatable. And, also, everyone likes being in on a secret, so, sometimes, this is just fun.

· Face the monsters: We’re often conditioned not to dwell on unpleasant things, which is part of why it can be powerful to examine them in stories. From small things like inglorious emotional states (envy, cowardice, resentment) to character flaws (recklessness, withdrawal, arrogance) to personal tragedies (loss, betrayal, abandonment), the negative parts of human emotional life pack quite a punch. Acknowledge them. Not only are they relatable experiences, but redemption and recovery arcs are some of the most compelling stories we have.

#whob #winterhawk #winterhawk olympic bang #writer workshops #writer workshop: emotions #guest post #thepartyresponsible

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let-it-raines · 4 years ago

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your wonder under summer skies (14/18)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

Rating: Mature

ao3: beginning | current

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-/-

This place is decidedly more cabin in the woods than Killian was expecting. Well, if the cabin in the woods was a bloody large cabin made for groups of people in Maine looking for a weekend away from their regular lives. When he looked at the link Anna sent him when they were planning this trip, he didn’t look past the specifics of price and how many bedrooms there were.

So when he pulled up and saw the two-story cabin with its wraparound porch and large, floor-to-ceiling windows nestled near a lake, he was a little taken aback. Mostly, though, he doesn’t understand how the owners of this place decided to make every wall wood paneling and for each damn piece of furniture to be made out of a log or pine or something that looks like it’ll put a splinter in his ass when he sits down.

Hell, he’s pretty sure that he’s going to turn the corner and there’s going to be animal heads hanging from the walls.

At least there’s sunshine and clear water and all of the food and alcohol that a man could ask for.

Or, well, that could be asked for by a joint bachelor and bachelorette party that Elsa and Liam wanted, the both of them insisting that they needed a weekend away and that it should be nothing like the beach…so naturally they’re spending it on a lake.

Anna seemed to think it was all a brilliant idea, and since she is so keen on planning things, he figured he’d let her do it instead of getting into arguments over it. Or, well, he might have been distracted when she called to talk about the trip because Emma was on her knees in front of him, and he wasn’t paying attention to anything other than the feel of her.

“Why do I feel like every time I turn a corner, a deer’s antlers or something are going to poke me in the eye?”

Killian chuckles and turns to Emma next to him. She’s got a large duffle bag hanging over her shoulder, and he doesn’t know what she packed, but it must be all of the contents of her closet.

“Because you probably will.”

“Okay,” Anna shouts as everyone keeps walking through the front door, chatting and dragging in suitcases and looking around, “I have had all of the bedrooms labeled. Elsa and Liam get the master, obviously. Mary Margaret and David have bedroom one on the first floor, and Kris and I will take bedroom two, which shares that bathroom. Will and Belle, bedroom three, which is at the end of the hall just down that way. Ariel and Eric, you have bedroom four, which is right at the top of the stairs and will share a bathroom with Ruby and Mulan’s room, which is bedroom five. The final room is, like, basically the attic. Emma and Killian, you guys get that one. It may or may not be the kids’ room, so don’t be surprised if there are bunk beds up there.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Killian mutters. “Bunk beds? We’re twenty-eight. We don’t get our own regular beds?”

“Do any of the couples here want to give up their private rooms with big beds to go sleep in the attic in bunk beds so that Killian can have a queen mattress?” “For fuck’s sake,” Killian laughs, rolling his eyes at Anna, “the beds are fine. I simply wasn’t aware Emma and I were going to be punished for not having significant others.”

“Yeah,” Emma joins in, “we should get compensated in, like, first choice of food tonight.” “I think Elsa and I get that,” Liam says. “You two will be fine. I’m sure the beds will be comfortable, but Emma, lass, as someone who lives with Killian, you might want earplugs. He snores.”

“Liar.”

Liam shrugs, bright smile on his face. “Have some mercy on the poor girl, Killian. Try not to be too loud.”

Killian opens his mouth to keep protesting, but then he snaps it shut. There’s no point. He doesn’t snore, and Emma knows that. Why should he care if everyone else thinks he snores? He’s sure that half of the people in this room do anyways.

This is Liam’s weekend.

If he reminds himself that enough, maybe he won’t try to pick at everything Liam says and does, and they can all have a good time like they’re supposed to.

Even if he does have to sleep in a damn bunk bed.

Emma elbows his side. “I have ear plugs, but that was mostly because I was scared I’d have to sleep next to David and Mary Margaret.”

“Please don’t put that image in my head.”

“We’re in a cabin full of couples, KJ. How is the image not in your head?”

Killian groans and tilts his head back, and Emma laughs, nudging him again before adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go put our stuff up. My legs are stiff from the drive, and I’m ready to go hiking.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Anna squeals, “I have sunscreen and bug spray for everyone who forgot it. I’ll leave it in the kitchen. Let’s all meet up in half an hour, okay?”

“Anna is…very organized,” Emma sighs as everyone begins walking in different directions looking for their bedrooms. “I feel like she’s a very intense version of Mary Margaret.” “That’s exactly who she is,” Elsa laughs, walking next to Emma up the stairs, which leads them to a hallway with more wood paneling and more large, paneled windows. There are no animal heads yet, though, so Killian would count that as a win. “I think she wants everything to be so perfect for me that she’s taking it overboard. Plus, she’s used to working with all of these extravagant people, so this is kind of out of her wheelhouse. You’re just lucky my cousins couldn’t come this weekend, because that would make it even worse.”

“She’s doing a great job. With this and the wedding. I mean, the wood paneling here is a little much, but this is beautiful.” “Hey, I could have helped plan this,” Killian protests.

Liam, Elsa, and Emma all laugh at him.

“What?”

“If I was a betting man, I’d say the only thing you planned was the food and the alcohol.”

“And to that,” Killian laughs, “I’d say you were right. If I had gotten my say, I would have found a place with one more bedroom so that Emma and I weren’t sleeping in bunk beds while everyone else got normal rooms.”

“I mean, technically,” Elsa says, “I think there’s another bed in David and Mary Margaret’s room, but I think you two might be safer upstairs.”

They get to the end of the hallway where the master bedroom is, and Elsa and Liam tell them that they’ll see them in a few minutes before walking inside while he and Emma turn to find the spiral staircase that leads up to the attic. It’s beautiful, but it’s not exactly convenient when carrying luggage, but he and Emma manage to get their stuff upstairs without any kind of disaster.

“Those stairs would be horrible if you’re drunk. I feel dizzy just getting up here.”

“Aye,” he sighs, dropping his bag and looking around the room.

It’s small, just a set of chairs, a dresser with a television, and then, indeed, a set of bunk beds covered in red plaid bedding. In the center of the room is a round window, and when Killian looks out it, he has a direct view of the lake and all of the surrounding hills and trees.

He imagines none of the other rooms have a view like that.

“Wow,” Emma whistles, “a view like that will almost make you think the lake is better than the beach.”

“Never,” he laughs, looking at her to his side. “I like my salt water and my sand too much to ever give it up, but it is stunning.”

“I can’t wait to get to explore it. It’s so damn nice not to be working this weekend. I haven’t had an actual, multiple-day break in months, and I’m taking full advantage of it.”

Killian nods as he keeps looking out the window. He sees two people walk out onto the deck, and he believes it’s Ruby and Mulan. It’s hard to tell from here, but then one of them walks a little further out and he recognizes Ruby’s red shirt. They must be ready to go already. He needs to change into a different pair of shoes.

Turning around, Killian moves to grab his bag only to see the last seconds of Emma pulling down a sports bra. She’s in nothing but a pair of black shorts and a white sports bra, and dammit if she doesn’t drive him mad like this.

He’s grown to know the curves of her body more intimately than he ever thought he would, and that’s how he knows that she’s been running more this summer and that places where she was once soft are the slightest bit more firm and how he knows the way her skin has changed from a creamy white to a shade or two darker, all of her freckles showing up more and more.

It’s how he knows that if that’s all she’s wearing today, he’s going to struggle holding it together in front of all of their friends.

He doesn’t know what to do when it comes to Emma any longer.

He wants her all the damn time, but his traitorous mind keeps telling him that he wants her in a way that he hasn’t had her: where there are no rules or implications or anything even closely relating to the friends with benefits situation they’ve got going on.

Where Killian can get it out of his mind that Emma kisses him in greeting now, how she intertwines their fingers, how she finds a way to touch him even when they’re not alone. It’s subconscious, he thinks. She’s not doing it on purpose, not seeking him out like she would a boyfriend, but it’s still happening.

(It matters not he is also guilty of doing the same things.)

It’s messing with his mind, with his heart, with everything.

And all he knows is that he feels like he’s betraying her because what Killian feels for Emma is far more than friendship, and he has no idea how to deal with that without mucking it up.

Especially because he can’t seem to stop being with her.

Their first rule was to keep the friendship at the center of everything, to make sure that neither of them messed it up, and the more time that passes, the more time that he thinks he’s barreling them toward disaster.

But he can’t stop.

“You gonna just keep staring at me like that?” Emma teases as she ties a jacket around her hips.

“I don’t believe I was staring.”

She chuckles and saunters toward him until she’s standing toe to toe with him. Killian glances away from her face, but that only leads his gaze toward the top of her breasts and the freckle that seems to be calling him.

Not now, not now, not now.

“Oh, you definitely were.” Emma presses up on her toes and runs her lips across his jaw. God, this is another one of the things about her that drives him mad, and he has to focus all of his attention on his breathing to keep himself from becoming too aroused. “Later,” she whispers. “I really do want to go on this hike, and I’m not going to let you distract me, Jones.” “I thought you were the one distracting me.”

“Eh, it goes both ways.”

And then she’s pulling away with this bright, kind smile on her face, and he has no idea how she can go from seductive to friendly all within the span of five minutes.

“See you downstairs. I need to get Ruby to braid my hair, so I’m going to go ahead and go.”

“She’s out on the deck with Mulan.”

Emma nods, grabs her phone, and then walks out the door.

This weekend is going to be bloody torturous.

-/-

If Killian had to guess, he would say that David and Liam have gotten them lost somewhere in the middle of the woods despite the fact that they’re all following a trail.

Or, well, supposed to be following a trail.

At one point, Anna and Elsa got distracted by this flower bush, and once they veered off the path to look at it, wondering if they could get Elsa’s florist to change her bouquet arrangement, they all started veering on and off the path, especially since there are twelve of them out here on a trail that really only allows two people to walk side by side.

If someone had brought alcohol on the hike, he imagines at least half the group would be lying dead in a ditch by now.

Honestly, Will usually has a flask on him, but as far as Killian knows, he hasn’t pulled it out yet.

Damn.

Killian ignores David and Liam arguing and keeps looking ahead. Emma and Mary Margaret are directly in front of him, now leading the group, and he tries to focus on the ground instead of the way Emma’s ass is nearly on display from the way her shorts are riding up. She hasn’t paid him much attention since they started the hike, and he’s never been so thankful to be left alone, if only for a little while.

He hasn’t been able to run all week, and this is exactly what he needed, even if the quietness of nature is cancelled out by everyone talking.

“I’m not kidding,” Ruby chuckles. “It’s awful. I mean, I get it, these are teenagers who are getting away from their parents for a little while, but do they have to make out in booths that I have to clean? There are so many places they could go, places where I don’t have to look at them while I’m trying to do my job.”

“We’ve made out in those booths.”

“That’s different, and you know it.” “Why? Because you’re the one who is getting a little action?”

“Exactly.”

“Granny’s is a fucking popular make out spot,” Will adds in. “There’s the hallway that connects to the B and B, which has seen more action than Killian has all summer.”

“Oi,” Killian scoffs, turning around to stare Will down, “mind your own bloody business.”

“Sorry, mate. I couldn’t resist.”

“You know who I keep seeing there?” Will continues. “Neal Cassidy. I know he’s dating Tamara, but damn, you’d think they could go to one of their places every once in awhile.”

Killian cringes, nearly faltering in his step, and he finally looks up to Emma, who is simply continuing to walk.

Good. That’s good.

She told him that she was over Neal, that she’s letting it go, but you don’t love someone for that long and have them break your heart and not be affected when someone is talking about them.

“Will, shut up,” Belle hisses.

“Why do I need to – oh fuck,” he mutters. “I’m sorry, Emma. Please ignore me and that bloody wanker.”

“It’s fine,” Emma shouts back, not turning around. “Neal has nothing to do with me anymore. He can do what he wants as long as I don’t have to look at him while I’m eating my onion rings.”

“I’d never make you do that,” Ruby tells her. “I’ll kick him out.”

“Can you even do that?”

“Eh, I can try.”

“Look,” David interrupts, and they all stop to stare where he’s pointing. “There’s that damn split tree. That’s where we were supposed to be going.”

“How do you even know that?” Liam grumbles.

“Because I noticed it on the way up. We’ve been here before, so it we turn that way, it should take us back to the house.”

“Can’t we use our phones to check where we are?” Killian asks only to have both Liam and David glare at him. “Okay, okay,” he backtracks, holding his hands up, “I guess we’re not using technology to make our lives easier.”

By the time they’re back at the house, Killian’s skin has been kissed by the sun, his feet ache, and his stomach is growling with hunger. He could really go for a nap, but Kris offers to cook burgers for everyone down by the lake, so everyone grabs their swimsuits and some drinks and heads down to where the grill is.

Killian settles into one of the lounge chairs that’s set up down there, a bottle of water in hand, and leans back, wondering if napping outside would be possible, but then Liam starts blaring music over some speakers and he knows the nap is never going to happen.

“Hey,” Emma says as she plops down in the chair next to him, “why do you look like you’re about to fall asleep?”

“Because I desperately want to.”

“How are you tired?”

“Because, unlike someone, I drove us up here and could not nap in the car.”

Emma shrugs and curls her legs up in the chair before taking a long sip of her water. “You make a good point, KJ. Do you think I’d get my hand slapped away if I went and got the bag of barbecue chips off the table before all the other food was ready?”

“Depends on if the picnic table guardian is looking over it or not.” Emma laughs and leans forward, looking over at the table. “David seems to be occupied staring at the grill being all macho man with Kris. I’ll be right back.”

And then she’s jogging over to the table, slowing down right before she gets there, and then grabbing the big bag of barbecue crisps before springing back over to him and sitting back down in her seat, dropping the crisps between them. David looks over at them, and Killian swears that he sees his eyes narrow, like he knows Emma took the crisps off the table.

“Sneaky, love.”

“I try. I don’t know why he does that at any event. It’s like he gets some weird high off of making sure no one gets too food, but the worst part is definitely the fact that he watches to see if people throw any uneaten food away.”

“It is rather odd, isn’t it?”

“It’s the worst is what it is.”

She leans over between them and opens the bag, grabbing a crisp and taking what he swears is the loudest bite in existence. David is likely about to look over at them and give them hell for it. The man is going to make a great father one day.

If only because he can monitor food better than anyone else in existence.

Killian leans back in his chair and settles down into it, closing his eyes. He stretches out his arm, his hand laying against the arm of the chair, and after a few moments of relative silence, he feels Emma’s fingers tracing over his forearm in soothing patterns that have a shiver running down his spin and settling in his stomach.

It feels so natural for her to do this, for him to let her do this, and he should stop it.

But he can’t, not now.

Soon. He’ll figure it out.

Soon.

“I’ve always liked this tattoo the best.”

“Hmm?”

“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” She traces the words inked into his skin as she says them out loud. “I don’t know. I just feel like it’s so fitting to have them mixed in with your scars.”

Killian fights with himself to keep his eyes closed, to keep himself from looking into Emma’s eyes. Not a lot of people get such unfiltered access to his scars, and yet here she is in the open tracing them and talking about them and yet again making him feel like maybe they’re not too bad.

“I mean,” she continues, “I like all of your tattoos. They always make me want to get more than my buttercup, but I really like this one.”

“Aye,” he sighs, deciding that just for today, he can let everything be. This is a good moment, and he’s not going to let his mind ruin it. Instead he’ll let Emma run her fingers over his hand and let her hold onto him for a few moments. “I am fond of that one as well. I am also fond of yours, though it is rather small.”

“What? Do you want me to get a giant one?”

“You should get one that covers your entire back.” “Shut up,” Emma laughs, digging her nails into him. “I am obviously not doing that. I don’t know what I’ll do, or if I ever will. I think I’ll just stick to liking yours.”

“I like that plan. Do you think if I eat a crisp that David will hear it?”

“He hasn’t noticed me yet.” “Ah, but you have better luck than me.” “Guess you’ll have to try your luck to see.”

Killian slowly opens one eye, then the next, before moving his arm away to reach into the bag. He takes one bite, eyeing David who still has his back turned, before eating a few more. He thinks that maybe he’ll get away with it until David turns around.

“Jones, put the damn chips back on the table before I burn your food.”

“Sorry,” Emma says to him, shrugging, but he can tell that she’s not sorry at all.

“I think I’ll survive, love.”

When the food is finished cooking, everyone settles around tables and in chairs, eating and drinking and laughing. And it’s nice, a nicer time than Killian has had in awhile if he’s honest with himself. But then the night falls, crickets finding their places in the surrounding trees and a breeze wafting through the campground, causing a chill to travel down his spine as his skin pebbles with goosebumps.

There is a fire going, though, and plenty of alcohol being passed around to warm him, but really, the alcohol might not be the best idea right now, especially since Mary Margaret and Ruby tend to like to play games when they’re halfway to drunk.

Mary Margaret said something about how they needed to play a shower game. It was tradition, but Elsa and Liam hadn’t wanted that. Then Ruby stood up from the bench she was sitting on and declared that they would play Truth or Dare like the grown adults they are. They love their games, though, and, well, Ruby does know how to turn the game into something that is rather more adult than what he played when he was a lad. This is nothing new. They tend to do this at every party they have, but he never knows if it’s going to be tame or not.

So far Elsa has had to share some intimate details about the first time she slept with Liam, which Killian truly did not need to hear about, Liam has chugged down half a bottle of ketchup, Will has jumped into the lake, Mary Margaret has had to answer what the one thing she’d change about David would be, which resulted in a hushed argument, and Ruby has run to the neighboring house and asked them for condoms.

She came back with an entire box.

So, now it’s Ruby scanning the semi-circle they’re sitting in looking for her next victim, because, really, of all the people here, the last person he’d want to have pick out whatever form of torture this is would be Ruby Lucas.

His one glass of rum has not numbed him enough for this.

“Emma,” Ruby finally says, and Killian swears he hears half the group let out sighs of relief.

“I hate you,” Emma mutters, flipping Ruby off.

“Oh, no you don’t. You love me, and I’m going to be really nice to you by telling you that if you pick ‘truth,’ I’m going to ask you about the guy who gave you that hickey last week.”

Killian’s cheeks immediately heat, and he swallows, pushing the thought down. He hadn’t meant to do that. It had been an accident because they are not teenagers and don’t usually leave marks, and he didn’t even know it happened until Emma had sent him a picture the next day.

Shit.

At least Emma’s a damn good liar since it’s not like anyone is actually forcing them to do this.

It’s the spirit of it all.

“Dare, you asshole.”

There are a few whistles from around the group, and Killian already knows there are going to be a few follow-up questions to Ruby’s words later.

“I dare you to…kiss Jones. Killian, not Liam. And none of that on the cheek shit. You two have so much chemistry, and I need to see it. I feel like everyone here needs to see it.”

“Oh my God,” he hears Emma murmur next to him at the same time that he has that exact thought. The whistles increase, some hollering too, and he swears that everyone here but he, Emma, and David are drunk off their asses. “Ruby, no. Pick something else. Like, something normal that non-tipsy you would pick.” “You chose ‘dare.’”

“Because you were going to ask me something I didn’t want to talk about. I don’t want to kiss Killian.” She turns back to him and winces. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he mumbles, knowing she’s trying to save face.

“Why not? He’s super hot. I mean, I know you think he’s hot. You’ve said it before, and you guys kind of have that ‘will they, won’t they’ thing going on, which I have been saying all summer. We actually have all talked about getting a betting pool as to when you’ll finally get together, especially since you and the dumbass are no longer a thing. So, come on, it won’t be that bad. You’ve got to uphold the integrity of truth or dare.”

Emma’s lips part, and Killian knows she has a retort on her tongue. She always does.

But then she’s turning and leaning over her chair until she’s grabbing the collar of his t-shirt and pulling his mouth to hers.

Fuck.

Her lips press into his, soft and warm as they always are, but it takes him a minute to fully close his eyes and appreciate how she feels against him. Eyes are on them, whistles ringing out around the group, and Killian swears he sees flashes of camera lights as Emma sucks on his bottom lip and his hands thread into her hair, pulling her closer.

And for one, miniscule second, he forgets about the people around him and the warring thoughts he’s been fighting for weeks now, and he lets himself revel in how damn good it feels to kiss Emma Swan.

But then it’s over.

They part, gasping for breath, and Killian’s grip tightens on the back of Emma’s head as her forehead rests warmly against his.

Strangely, all he can focus on is the fact that she smells like sunscreen.

“Well, hot damn,” Ruby sighs, and Killian finally drops his hand from Emma’s hair, “I feel like I need a glass of water now. Anyone else?”

There’s a murmur of voices, but Killian ignores them, focusing on the way Emma is blinking at him with a smirk painted on her lips. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?” “No, that wasn’t bad at all.”

“Emma, it’s your turn,” Ruby reminds her. “Feel free to do your worst to me.”

“Trust me, I plan to.”

In the blink of an eye, things go back to normal. The attention is back on the game, not on him, not on Emma, and no one says anything else about the kiss.

Apparently everyone cares about it a lot less than he thought they would.

But it was all part of a game. It wasn’t real.

None of it has been.

And he has no idea how much longer he’s going to be okay with that. He also has no idea how he could make any of it real, even if Emma wanted that, because he’s got no fucking clue how to do this.

His brain doesn’t seem to be conjuring up any ideas either.

Shit.

Eventually, the game dies down, everyone quieting and forming their own circles and conversations, and while Killian tries to stay for a little while, when the opportunity to sneak out and go to bed presents itself, he takes it.

-/-

tag list: @qualitycoffeethings @mrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @sherifemma @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @elizabeethan @captain-emmajones @csalltheway @itsfabianadocarmo

#your wonder under summer skies #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #Captain Swan

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whitehotharlots · 4 years ago

Text

Previewing the 2024 Democrat Primary

Within a couple weeks of his being sworn in, just about every person on earth will wish Joe Biden was no longer president. Sure, the few surviving John B. Anderson voters will be thrilled to see 4 years of crushing austerity and half-assed attempts at Keynesian stimulus. But most people will begin dreaming about a brighter future.

Good news! The 2024 Democratic primary field is going to contain dozens of options. Bad news! They are all going to be disgusting piles of shit.

The “top tier”

While it’s too early to do any handicapping, these are the candidates the media will treat as having the most realistic chances of securing the nomination.

Kamala Harris

Kamala did not win a single primary delegate in 2020. This is because she dropped out before the first primary, and that was because no one likes her. She has no base beyond a few thousand of twitter’s most violent psychos. Her disingenuousness approaches John Edwards levels: any halfway incredulous person can see immediately beyond her bullshit. She has no principles whatsoever, and while that may be par for the course for Democrats, she lacks even the basic politician’s ability to intuit anything that might, hypothetically, constitute a principle.

Even better: she is an awful public speaker. She sounds like how a talking dog would speak if he were just caught stealing people food off the kitchen table. She communicates in weird grunts and faux sassy squeaks, which is how she imagines real black women sound like, but something about her is unable to sell the bit. She begins her sentences in halfhearted AAVE, stops and panics halfway through as she realizes that maybe this sounds fake and offensive, and then reminds herself oh wait, no, this is okay since I’m black. This doesn’t happen once or twice per speech. This is how every single sentence sounds.

Kamala is like Nancy Pelosi in that no sketch show will ever impersonate her correctly, because anything that came close to authenticity would be considered far too cruel. This might benefit her in the primaries, as she exists in the minds of Democrats as someone and something she absolutely is not in reality. Nominating her would be like allowing your child’s imaginary friend to attempt to drive you to the store.

Andrew Cuomo

Easily one of the 50 worst people alive, Cuomo has a solid chance because Democrats, same as Republicans, are unable to differentiate between electability and self-serving ruthlessness. Cuomo used the deadliest public health crisis in American history as a pretext for cutting Medicaid and firing 5,000 MTA workers, and his approval rating increased. New York Dems are little piggies who love eating shit. If we assume that the political media will continue their habit of refusing to discuss the legislative history of right wing Democrats, Cuomo might well cruise to the nomination and then lose to literally any human being the GOP nominates by an historic margin.

Joe Biden

The party loves him because he is a right wing racist. “Progressives” tolerate him because black primary voters over 40 supported him, and their opinion is supposedly a magic window into god’s truth. Everyone else can tell he is manifestly senile. I don’t put it above the DNC to pick a candidate who is in horrible health, dying, or even dead--whatever the financial sector wants, they’ll get. But I would be shocked if his approval rating is above 39% by mid-2023, and by that point deep fake technology will be advanced enough they’ll put out a very lifelike video in which the Max Headroom version of Joe explains he’s proud of his accomplishments--that budget’s almost balanced already--but, man, I gotta abd--I gotta abdica--, uhh, I gotta, I, uhh, I gotta move down, man.

Wild Cards

These candidates would have all have a chance if they ran, but they could all much more easily retire to Little Saint James off of kickbacks they’ve gotten from Citibank and I.G. Farben.

Rahm Emanuel

Rahm is going to receive some hugely influential post in the Biden administration. Let’s say he becomes Secretary of Education. His signature achievement will be replacing all elementary school teachers with Amazon’s Alexa, which saved the taxpayers so much money we were able to quadruple the number of armed police officers we put into high schools. This will give him several thousand positive profiles on network news programs and the near-universal support of the Silicon Valley vampires who will own 99% of the country by the time Biden’s term ends. They will use their fancy mind control devices to convince geriatic primary voters that Rahm’s the one who will bring Decency back to the white house. His candidacy will be the paragon of wokeness, as expressing concern toward the fact that he covered up the police murder of a black guy will get you called a racist.

Rahm has a bonus in that Jewish men are now Schrodeniger’s PoC. When they are decent human beings, they are basic, cis white men who are stealing attention from disabled trans candidates of color. When they love austerity and apartheid, they become the most vulnerable people of color on earth and criticizing them in any way is genocide. No one will be able to mention a single thing Rahm has ever done or said without opening themselves to accusations of antisemitism, and that gives him a strong edge against the rest of the field. The good news is that an Emmanuel candidacy would result in over 50% of black voters choosing the GOP candidate--which, I guess that’s not really good but it would certainly be funny.

Gavin Newsom

Newsom is every bit as feckless as Cuomo, but he doesn’t put off the same “bad guy in an early Steven Segal movie” vibes. He will mention climate change 50 times per speech and no one will bother to mention how he keeps signing fracking contracts even though his state is now on fire 11 months of the year. If anything, this will be spun into an argument about how he’s actually the candidate best suited to handle all the water refugees gathering on the southern border. Look for his plan to curb emissions by 10% by the year 2150 to get high marks from Sierra Club nerds. He’s also a celebate librarian’s idea of what constitutes a handsome man, so he’ll have some support from the type of women who claim to hate all men.

Larry Summers

I mean, why not? Larry, like most members of the Obama administration, has politics that are eerily similar to those of Jordan Peterson. In normal circumstances, this makes a person a dangerous fascist who should not be platformed. But if that person has a D next to their name this makes them a realistic pragmatist who has what it takes to bring suburban bankers into our tent. If current trends in Woke Phrenology continue apace, Larry’s belief that women are inherently bad at STEM will be liberal orthodoxy by 2023, and his dedication to the Laffer Curve could see him rake in massive donations. Seriously, I’m not kidding: cultural liberalism is now fully dedicated to identity essentialism and balanced budgets. Larry is their ideal candidate. If he were black and/or a woman, I’d put him in the very top tier.

Jay Inslee

Unlike Newsom, Inslee’s attempt to crown himself the King of Global Warming won’t be immediately derailed, since his state is only on fire because of protestors. This, however, poses a different problem. He’s going to be a good test case for the Democrat’s uneasy peace with the ever increasing share of the electorate who become catatonic upon hearing a pronoun. On the one hand, you need to take their votes for granted. On the other hand, they’re not like black people or regular gays: most voters actively, consciously despise wokies, and associating yourself with them will ruin a campaign even in deep blue areas. There’s still gonna be riots in a year. Biden’s gonna announce the sale of all our nation’s potable water to the good folks at Nestle and some trans freak named Sasha-Malia DeBalzac is going to use that as an opportunity to sell their new pamphlet about how it’s fascist to not burn down small businesses. No matter what Inslee does in response, it��ll end his career.

AOC

I’m not one of those “AOC is a secret conservative” weirdos, but I am aware enough of basic reality to know she has zero chance of coming close to the nomination. The right and the center both regard her as a literal demon. The party is already blaming her for the fact that a handful of faceless Reagan acolytes failed to flip their suburban districts even though they ran on sensible pragmatic proposals like euthanizing the homeless. The recriminations will only get more unhinged when the Dems eat shit in the 2022 midterms. She will be a Russian, she will be white male, she will be a communist, she will be a homophobe: any insult or conspiracy theory you can name, MSNBC will spend hours discussing. Her house seat challenger will receive a record amount of support from the DNC in 2024 and it’ll be all she can do to remain in congress.

Larry Hogan

Don’t be dissuaded by the fact that he’s a Republican. Larry is the DNC’s ideal candidate: a physically repulsive conservative who owes his entire career to appealing to the most spiteful desires of suburban white people. He’s an open racist in a material sense--if you’re old-school enough to think racism is a matter of beliefs and actions, rather than the presence of cultural signifiers--but his is the beloved “never Trump” style of racism that Dems covet. He’s also a Proven Leader who thinks the role of government should be to finance the construction of investment property and give police the resources they need to run successful drug trafficking operations. Few people embody the Democrat worldview more than Larry.

The Losers Bracket

These people will have at least a small chance due solely to the fact that the Democrats love losing. They have lost in the past, and in the Democrat Mind that makes them especially qualified.

Joe Kennedy

The man looks like a mushroom-human hybrid from a JRPG. Trump proved that physical hideousness need not doom a presidential bid, but a candidate still needs some kind of charm or oratorical abilities or, god forbid, a decent platform. Joe aggressively lacks all of these things. A vanity campaign would be a good way to raise money and perhaps secure an MSNBC gig, so Joe might still run.

Mayor Pete

I am 100% convinced that Pete’s 2020 run was a CIA plot meant to prevent working class Americans from ever having a chance of living decent lives. I am also 100% aware that Democrats are dumb enough to enthusiastically support a CIA plot meant to prevent working class Americans from ever having a chance of living decent lives. If we have some sort of military or terror disaster between now and 2023 the Dems are sure to want a TROOP, and wait wait wait you’re telling me this one is a gay troop? Holy hell there’s no way that could lose!

Stacy Abrams

Never underestimate the power of white guilt. She lost the gubernatorial race to Gomer Pyle’s grandson, and her spiritual guidance of the Dems saw the party lose black voters in Georgia in 2020. Nonetheless, she is regarded as a magic font of fierceness within the DNC. She might stand a chance if she can establish herself as the most conservative non-white candidate in the field, but there’s going to be stiff competition for that honor.

Elizabeth Warren

Liz is probably angry that the party so shamelessly sold her out even after she was a good little girl and sabatoged Bernie’s campaign for them--yet another example of high ranking US government officials reneging on their promises to the Native American community. Smdh. The fact that this woman hasn’t been bankrupted a dozen times over by various Wallet Inspectors genuinely astounds me. So Liz is probably going to run again, and her campaign will be even sadder the second time around.

It might surprise you to hear this if you don’t work at a college or NGO, but Liz diehards actually do exist. She’ll get even less support this time because there will be no viable leftist in the field for her to spoil, but she’ll still hang in long enough to make sure the very worst possible candidate beats out the second worst possible candidate. Maybe she’ll fabricate a rape accusation against Sherrod Brown. Maybe she’ll spend her entire allotted debate time doing a land acknowledgment. With Liz, anything is possible--so long as it ends in failure.

Amy Klobuchar

Amy was the most bloodthirsty of the 2020 also rans. She will double down on the unpopular failures of the Biden administration, explaining that if you weren’t such a selfish idiot you’d love the higher social security retirement age and oh my god are so such a moron you think you shouldn’t go bankrupt to get a COVID vaccine? There’s a non-unsubstantial segment of the Democratic base that’s self-hating enough to find this appealing, but it won’t be enough to make her viable.

Martha Coakley

She lost Ted Kennedy’s senate seat to a retarded man who was pretending to be even more retarded than he actually was. Then she lost a gubernatorial race to a guy who openly promised Massachusetts voters that he would punish them for electing him. Her record of failure is unparalleled, making her perhaps the ideal Democrat standard bearer for the twenty twenties.

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the-awkward-outlaw · 5 years ago

Note

Hey there! Can you write Arthur teaching reader how to hunt, shoot a gun like he taught Charlotte? ( I ship them too btw.) First encounter, they obvious meet. Second encounter, reader's excitement takes the best of her after shooting a bottle that she and Arthur accidentally kiss and she quickly apologizes and feels embarrassed that she runs back inside. The third encounter, they both fall in love, can't stop thinking about each other and he asks her to be gf when paying her a visit again.

Ah, I adore Charlotte! I also love writing a scenario very similar to that in which a happy ending is suggested since TB ain’t a thing here!

Read all my works on AO3 here!

Hungry. So hungry. Of course, this has become the standard for you. For the past few days, you’ve been nothing but hungry. You’re at the cabin near Cattail Pond, one of the few cabins your brother could find that was just far enough from a town he couldn’t be found and that wasn’t already occupied. He’s dead now though, leaving you in the mess he created.

You and your brother used to live in San Francisco and had a comfortable life as your parents left enough money for you both before they died. Your brother, the fool that he was, ended up spending almost all both your and his money gambling or on useless ventures. Then he borrowed money, built up an impressive debt, and had no way to pay it back. You had a job making clothes in a factory and he had one working as a fisherman, but they didn’t make enough money to pay off his debts. Eventually he grabbed you and the two of you fled, but the debts seemed to follow him no matter where he went. That was why he picked this cabin: it’s secluded enough from a town that he’d be harder to find.

Things were going okay for the first couple of weeks, but food was running low and neither of you knew the first thing about hunting. Picking herbs was easy enough as there was an abundance in the surrounding areas, but you both needed meat. Your brother tried using his one firearm, an old pistol, to hunt but he wasn’t good. You didn’t even know how to shoot a gun, so you weren’t any help either.

Things took another bad turn when your one horse, the one who brought you both here in a small wagon, got mauled by a grizzly bear. Life became even harder as now neither of you could travel to Valentine to buy goods as it was a solid day’s walk on foot. You didn’t have the money either to go to Valentine and buy another horse as your brother spent a good amount of the little you had on a poker game. You’d screamed and cried at him when you found out, furious that he was still doing the things that wrecked both your lives.

Then one day, your brother stopped being your burden, though you felt horrible for seeing him that way. He’d been trying to hunt a ram from the nearby pond, but he knew so little about guns that when he was fumbling with his pistol, he’d accidentally shot himself in the head. You found him a few hours later and buried him. It was a relief to no longer be tethered to him but his damage was too great to end at his death. His debts now settled on your shoulders, preventing you from returning to your home.

That’s why you’re still here at this tiny cabin with almost nothing to eat except a few herbs, wild vegetables and roots. You want to learn how to use your brother’s gun, but you’re scared you’ll make his mistake and shoot yourself. Still, the need for food is starting to push out and you’re becoming more tempted to at least try.

You’re sitting on the porch of your cabin as the sun’s getting lower in the sky. You’ve never felt so desperate and alone. Not only are you days from starving, you haven’t had contact with another person since your brother died. What you wouldn’t give to see someone else’s face, say something as simple as hello.

Your stomach rumbles again, reminding you of its need. Your storage of edible plants is getting low; you’ll need to go gathering again. This has its own challenges, as you aren’t entirely sure what’s around that’s safe to eat. You’ve only picked the food you recognize, like the wild carrots, oregano, mint and raspberries. You go up to the trail and head over to the pond, looking for what food you can find.

Your presence over the past few weeks has another set back: most of the wild plants you can pick haven’t been able to regrow quickly enough to sustain you and you’re too nervous to venture into new places to look. This is obviously bear territory and you can’t be sure if there’s other predators, such as wolves or cougars. The pond itself can be frightening enough since that’s where your horse was mauled.

As the pond comes into view, you curse your brother for the fourth time today. He was a fisherman in the city, but being the idiot he was, he neglected to grab his fishing gear when he’d grabbed you and fled. You knew how to fish, you could easily have gotten meat from this pond. You’ve seen the fish basking in the shallows, and some are a decent size. Yet you’ve no way to get them.

You bend down on the shore of the pond, pulling a tiny carrot from the ground. It’s the last one in this area, another blow. You see purple flowers around that seem to be attached to some kind of root, but you’ve no idea if they’re safe to eat or not. You go a little further away from the pond, looking for anything to eat.

You sit down on a rock after a short while, feeling desperate and hungry. Perhaps it’s time for you to take that day’s walk to Valentine, get a job there. You know the only jobs they offer women are saloon girls or hotel workers. Still, you’d be able to at least get a decent meal. The only thing stopping you is where you’ll shelter yourself when not working. It’ll take some time to afford a horse, but maybe sleeping on the street would be the best option until you could afford one. However, being in a town has its risks: the debt collectors could very well find you there. That was why your brother chose this cabin, after all.

Just as you’re contemplating the weight of your options, you hear footsteps. You turn and see a man, standing not too far away. He has a bow and arrow in his hand, the arrow pointed at the ground.

“Hello, ma’am,” he says.

You shoot up to your feet. You can’t tell if he’s real or not. Maybe you’re hallucinating him, your hunger making you go crazy, but you don’t care. You’re so relieved to see another person finally.

“Sir!” you say.

He tilts his head a bit. It’s then you realize you’re filthy, as you haven’t had the energy to heat enough water to bathe in during the last couple of days.

“You a’right?” he asks.

You smile, but it falters. “Well… since you ask, no not really.” You look away, feeling a sudden urge to cry. You’ve never felt so weak and pathetic and he’s a tall, broad man. Guessing from his stance, he has some experience hunting. You feel even more foolish in the realization that you’ve no business living in the wilderness like this when you don’t know the first thing about keeping yourself alive.

“You mind me askin’ what happened to ya?” he asks as a tear slides down your cheek.

You start wringing your hands and tell him a brief version of your story, about your damn brother who started your problems.

“We didn’t know the first thing about hunting when he decided to live here,” you say. “He tried using his gun to hunt and ended up shooting himself. I buried him about a week ago.”

“Ah, I’m real sorry, ma’am,” the man says.

You nod in thanks. You want nothing more than to ask him for his help but you’re not sure how to do it. You’ve already noticed how handsome he is and it was obvious when you first saw him he was tracking something. You’ve already delayed him enough, he’s probably lost the trail. You sit down on the rock again, not wanting to keep him further.

He takes a small step closer to you. “Ma’am, is there anywhere I could take you? A train maybe?”

“No, I… I can’t afford a ticket. Besides, my… my brother had a lot of debt and it’s fallen on me now to repay it. I’m afraid they’ll find me in town and he didn’t leave enough money for me to repay it. I can’t even afford a sick, old mule.”

You turn away from him again, feeling even more pathetic. You suddenly wish this man would just leave. You can just feel his judging eyes on your back.

“You, uh, you have anything to eat out here?” he asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

You look up at him. “Nothing. Neither of us knew the first thing about hunting, hell we barely knew enough about foraging to keep us going. In fact, not enough as it turns out. I hardly know what’s around me that’s safe to eat.”

He sighs and gets a bit closer. “Well you ain’t gonna last much longer out here like this. Come on.” You look up at him again, unaware of the pleading look in your eyes. “I’ll show ya how to hunt somethin’, give you a few days’s food anyways.”

You stand up, brushing your hands off on your jeans. “O-okay. Like I said though, I don’t know the first thing.”

“We’ll start with somethin’ small. Rabbit or a turkey. I’ll shoot, you skin, sound fair?”

“But I don’t even have a knife.”

“You won’t need one. I’ll help ya. Now let’s find somethin’.”

He looks around, but you’re sure he’s seeing a lot more than you are. He beckons you to follow him down a little ways from the pond and you do so, trying to keep your footing quiet.

“Ah, there’s one,” he whispers, stopping suddenly.

“There’s what? I don’t see anything.”

“Focus. You see there by that bush?” he points straight ahead.

You narrow your eyes a bit and then something small moves beside it. A rabbit’s nibbling on a long blade of grass. The man takes his bow and an arrow from his back. He notches it, pulls the string and then, after a few seconds, lets go. The rabbit lets out a small squeak, the arrow going through its body.

“Good shot!” you say, despite yourself. He smiles at you, making your heart skip a beat and then leads you over to it.

“A’right, go ahead and skin it.”

“But I… I mean, how do I do it?”

The man tells you how to hold the rabbit and to just pull the flesh from the body. You pick up the rabbit by the back legs and start to yank on the skin, but it holds firm.

“Pull hard,” the man says.

You readjust your grip and then yank again. Still the skin doesn’t move from the body. You can feel the man smiling, but you’re determined not to have him show you how to do this. You yank as hard as you can and finally the flesh tears and pulls away from the body.

“It worked!” you say.

The man chuckles. “Well there ya go. I’m, uh, guessin’ you know how to cook it?”

You smile and nod. “Yes, I do actually know how to do that. Thank you so much for catching this.”

You stuff the skin into your satchel and then start carrying the carcass to your cabin. You expect the man will just wish you luck and go back to tracking his original target. Instead he accompanies you to your cabin.

“Well, this should keep you fed a few days at least,” he says.

“Yes, definitely,” you say. “I just hope I can make it afterwards.”

“I’d recommend you learn how to use your brother’s gun.”

“Yes, I think that’s really my only option at this point. Whether or not I’ll end up being as stupid as my brother is yet to be seen.”

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine. Just don’t ever point the barrel at yourself and you’ll be okay.”

You chuckle, despite yourself. When you get to the porch, you turn to the man. “Thank you, sir. You know, you’re the first person who’s done anything good for me since I left the city. My brother wasn’t just an idiot, he was demeaning and… just not a nice man. You’ve already done more for me than he’s done in the past five years.”

The man smiles. “I’m just glad to be of service, ma’am. Here, why don’t ya take this? You probably need this more than I will.”

He hands you a book about North American plants. Flipping through it, you can see it’s highly illustrated and each description comes with a section on if the plant’s edible.

“Are you sure?” you ask, not daring to hope.

“Of course. I know most plants I come across already, I don’t need that. It’ll just be takin’ up space for me. You, though, can actually put it to good use.”

You smile. “Sir, I can’t repay your kindness.”

“Just get some rest and a good meal. You have a good evenin’, ma’am.” He tips his hat and heads back up the way you’d come down. You watch him, smiling. For the first time since you came to this place, you feel a bubble of hope in your chest.

************************

Three days have gone by since the man undeniably saved your life. After you chopped up the rabbit he’d caught and cooked up some, you’d gone to sleep with a satisfied stomach for the first time in days. You’d spent the next two days looking through the book he’d given you and foraging some of the plants you’ve seen around the pond and just didn’t know was safe to eat. The purple flowers turn out to be Burdock root.

You came back last night with your satchel on the brink of overflowing with plants and ended up going to sleep last night with a full stomach. You haven’t tried shooting your brother’s pistol yet, still a bit nervous about it, but you’ll have to try today since the rabbit is nearly gone. You inspect the gun and study how it works. You arrange a variety of bottles near the pond on a few different boulders to shoot at.

You aim at the bottles and for the next hour try to shoot, with no success. The gun has a fierce kickback, which you just can’t get used to. You hold your breath every time you shoot too, believing it’ll help you aim better.

At the end of the hour, you shoot again but miss yet again. “Damn it!” you say.

“Glad to see you’re at least not pointing it at your face,” you hear a familiar voice. You turn and see the man.

“Yes, I’ve at least figured out that much,” you say, smiling. “Now figuring out how to actually hit something with it is a different matter.”

He chuckles and pulls out his revolver. “Here, I’ll show ya a few things.” He aims the gun and shoots it, striking a bottle. You try not to admire his form, the shape of his chest and sides. God, you need to see more people. The first man you see and you’re already getting a crush. You blush and smile when he smirks at you.

“How did you do that?”

“Take a stance like mine and I’ll help ya.” You copy his pose and he walks up behind you, putting his hands on your shoulders. You try to ignore how big and warm they are. “Okay, loosen your upper arm. You’re too tense. Take in a breath. Aim. Let out your breath and fire.”

You try ignoring how close he is and how good his hands feel on your shoulder, focus on what he’s saying. You do as he says and shoot. A part of the boulder beneath the bottle you’d been aiming for explodes in a small cloud of dust, leaving behind a sizable dent.

“That’s the closest I’ve gotten since I started!” you exclaim.

He chuckles and pats your shoulder. “Good work. My turn.”

He doesn’t take a step back and you get the feeling he likes the closeness just as much as much as you do. He aims his revolver again and you take the opportunity to look back at him and study his face. He’s goddamn handsome, his neck thick and gleaming from the slight amount of sweat. He pulls the hammer and then shoots, another bottle exploding.

“Showoff,” you say.

He chuckles. “Take your turn now. Focus on the exhale.”

You take your stance again and breathe out slowly. You shoot and the bottle explodes.

“I hit it!” you say excitedly. “I hit it!” You turn and grin at him. “Did you see that? I hit it!”

He laughs and pats your arm. “That ya did. You want to go some more or are ya done?”

Your wrist is starting to cramp up from the kickback. “Maybe I’ll just try and catch something, then I’ll be done. Could… I mean, would you have the time to help me if I need it?”

He nods. “Of course. You take the lead though.”

You grin and head off away from the pond, looking for any sign of movement. It doesn’t take long before you find a small group of wild turkeys picking through the grass. The man hunkers down right behind you; he’s so close you can almost feel his breath on the back of your neck. You ignore the goosebumps and aim your pistol. You focus on your breathing, relax your arm and then shoot. The bullet strikes the turkey’s neck and it falls without making a sound, already dead.

“I hit it!” you shoot up, making the man laugh again. “I hit the turkey!”

The man laughs and pats your shoulder. “Sure.”

You turn and smile at him. “This is all in thanks to you! I never would’ve gotten this far without your help.”

“Oh I’m sure you would’ve figured it out on your own.”

“No,” you say softly. “I wouldn’t have. Listen, I’d love to repay you in some way. Would you at least join me for a meal? I still have some of that rabbit.”

He smiles and takes your offer. You lead him to your cabin with the turkey carcass slung over your shoulder, aware that he’s not even three feet from you.

You show him into your cabin, which consists of nothing more than a large room with your bed in the corner. When your brother was alive, you were forced to sleep on the floor in a bedroll since your brother claimed he needed a soft bed to help alleviate the stress. When he died, you cleaned it and took over it yourself.

You tell the man to have a seat and he takes it as you dish out the last of the rabbit, having cooked it this morning. You also scoop out some boiled roots and raspberries.

“Help yourself,” you say. “You helped me create this meal anyways.”

You sit down across from him with your own plate. The man smiles and takes a bite. “Hmm, how’d you season this?”

“I found some thyme and oregano weeks ago, been drying it ever since. I may not be skilled in catching my own food, but my mother taught me how to make it taste good.”

The man grins. “Well, this is certainly some of the best I’ve had in awhile.”

You blush. “I’m so sorry, sir. I don’t even know your name. You’ve helped me so much, I’d love to put a name to your face.”

“Arthur. Arthur Morgan. And may I ask yours?”

You tell him. Over the meal, you start talking more and more about your lives, telling him more details about your brother. You talk about your life of luxury before your parents died and your brother squandered your inheritances.

“No offense, but that life sounds awful,” he says at the end of your story. “I could never handle livin’ in a city like that. Seems… meaningless.”

“Oh it was,” you say. “Truly meaningless and empty. In the city, you simply exist whereas out here, you have to earn your survival.”

Arthur grins at you across the table. He really is a handsome and sweet man. You blush a bit and return to your food. “So tell me, Mr. Morgan, about your life. You certainly look like a man who's been to many places.”

He chuckles a bit. “Well, that I have. But if you’re thinkin’ that I’m just a hunter or an adventurer, you’d be wrong. I’m…” he hesitates for a few seconds and you can tell he’s contemplating. You wait patiently. “I’m an outlaw.”

“An outlaw?” you repeat, your voice showing no sign of accusation nor do you feel any. He’s already proven to possess a kind heart and he likely just made some mistakes along the way. “Well that certainly sounds exciting. Much more so than my empty existence.”

“Awe, ma’am, I’ll think you’ll find you’re worth much more than you think.”

You blush again. Arthur clears his throat and looks at his empty plate, then he glances out the window to where the sky’s growing dark. “Well thank ya for the meal, ma’am, but I better head out. Got some things I need to take care of before the day’s done.”

“Of course, and please call me Y/N.”

He grins and stands up. You follow him out to the porch. He turns around to thank you and you respond by reaching up on your toes to kiss his cheek. Little did you know he bent down at the same time to kiss yours and your lips accidentally touch. He shoots away from you as though he’d been electrocuted.

“Oh my God, Mr. Morgan, I am so sorry! That was my fault!”

“No it was mine,” he says quickly, though he hides his eyes beneath his hat. It’s clear he’s trying to be kind when he must be disgusted.

“Well, thank you again. For everything. And sorry for… that. I certainly didn’t mean… I mean, you… you’re a good man for helping me… well, I guess you gotta go, so I’ll say good night. Good night!”

Your face burning, you dash back inside and close the door gently. You peak out the window and see him turning away and going down to his horse. You see his arm bend and it looks as though he’s rubbing his lips. You can’t say you blame him, he’s probably beyond just disappointed and disgusted. You don’t know that he’s brushing his lips, recalling the feeling of yours on them just as you’re doing the same.

***********************

It’s been almost a week since the accidental kiss and you’ve seen and heard nothing from Arthur. You’re not surprised, he’s obviously not wanting to see you again, probably afraid you might kiss him again. Not that you would, of course. Sure, he’s handsome and you find yourself thinking about him more often than not, especially how his lips felt against yours, but you certainly wouldn’t try to kiss him if he decided to visit.

You sit on your porch, stitching together two rabbit pelts. One was from the time Arthur shot the first one and the other is from yesterday when you’d caught a second one. You’ve been practicing with the pistol everyday just like Arthur showed you and you’ve improved significantly. You spend a solid three hours everyday on the porch just in case Arthur shows up again, though you’re doubtful. Honestly, if you were him, you wouldn’t come calling again either.

You’re just about to call it a day and grab your gear in order to go foraging again as the sun reaches the middle of the sky. You set down the pelts and stand up but then you hear something. You look over and see Arthur approaching, a slight pink tinge to his cheeks.

“Arthur!” you say. You smile and clasp your hands.

“Hello, Y/N. Just… thought I’d come see how you’re managing.”

You blush and look down. “Oh I’m getting by just fine, thanks to you. You know, you’re… you’re the closest thing I’ve had to a friend in a long time.”

He smiles and walks up the two steps to the porch. He’s much closer than you would’ve thought he’d be, considered what happened last time. You take a step back, not wanting to make him feel pressured.

“Well, Y/N, it’s been a real plessure knowin’ ya. I… I wanted to ask ya somethin’. Maybe we can call it a repayment.” He blushes again and looks down, hiding his eyes again.

“Yes, Mr. Morgan? What is it?”

He sighs and rubs his neck. “Perhaps could we… try that kiss again? Only properly this time. I won’t move this time.”

You smile and walk up to him. You reach up to press a kiss to his cheek, but he turns his head just before you do and your lips meet his again. You don’t pull away and neither does he. You open your mouth a little and he does too, then you feel his arms wrap around you, pulling you even closer. One of your arms goes behind him and settles on his back while you press the other hand to his neck, your thumb tracing his jaw. He deepens the kiss, his hot breath washing over your face. You can taste the subtle hint of coffee and tobacco with a minty end.

Arthur pulls away slightly, his face flushed. “Sorry, hope you don’t think I was takin’ advantage, he says in a deep, rough voice.

“Trust me, Mr. Morgan, that was the last thing I was thinking.”

He smiles. “Well in that case, may I ask a favor? Can you stop callin’ me Mr. Morgan and could I call ya… my girl maybe?”

“Arthur, are you asking to date me?” you grin.

He huffs a soft laugh. “Guess I am.”

You respond by kissing him again. He sighs into it and you can feel him smiling. Finally your life has taken an interesting turn. For so long, you’ve merely lived each day with feeling no excitement, no desire to satisfy your curiosities. Now a new door seems to be opening up and Arthur was the one who showed you it was even there. You wonder, as you stand there and kiss him, what other doors he’ll help you open.

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #awkward asks

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ilguna · 4 years ago

Text

Belamour - Chapter Eight (f.o)

summary: they say the odds tend to favor those who need them. well, they were wrong.

warnings; swearing

wc; 7.8k

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

“Okay, but you have to expand on that.” Allio says, motioning to Trink and Lennox while staring directly at you. There’s a look on his face that says ‘can you believe them?’ and honestly, you can’t. They’re so vague, it’s like they want you two to keep on asking questions.

“I don’t think we do.” Lennox says, “In fact, I think the conversation should stop here.”

“Okay.” Trink snorts, “You’re just mad that I’ve brought it up again.”

Lennox doesn’t even deny what she’s saying, nodding right along with raised eyebrows. He clearly wants her to shut up, but Trink has no intention of actually doing that. So, she pauses from sharpening her knife for a moment, and looks dead at you and Allio. This makes Lennox roll his eyes.

“I give up.” he mutters.

“Good.” Trink doesn’t even look sorry, “Here’s how things actually went down--”

“It’s the wrong version of the story!”

“I thought you were giving up.” you say, which causes you all to start laughing.

Lennox’s face is a light shade of red, but he crosses his arms, and then motions for Trink to start. Trink gives him a white smile, and turns back to you guys.

You continue organizing everything inside of your backpack, not really wanting to have things be a mess on the inside. You and Trink will be sharing this bag, and Allio and Lennox will be sharing the other. Just so you all aren’t carrying your own separate things.

As soon as you and Allio are done, you’ll all be heading off and into the woods for a few days. This, of course, leaves the cornucopia up for grabs, but since you all weren’t able to do this properly on the first day, you decided to make up for it. On the way into the forest, you’ll stop at the pond for a quick refresh of water and then you’ll be walking the rest of the day.

The chances of you guys catching anyone is slim. The island looks huge, and since none of you have experience out here, it’s going to be a while before you become accustomed to the land. And it’s a little worrying that you’ve spent several days inside of the cornucopia. It just means that the other tributes know what they’re doing out there.

There’s only twelve tributes left in the games. The four careers--you guys--Finnick, Thyme, Blaire, and five others. You think one of them is Mac, from District Seven, and you’re not too surprised that he’s survived this long. He scored fairly high, but he’s not career material at all--and neither are you, you think. Out of all the districts, you think that only three of them have two tributes left in the games.

District One is Lennox and Trink, and they’re very obviously still alive. You’re alive, and you don’t remember seeing Finnick in the sky at all. So there’s another batch, and you think, you’re not entirely sure, that District Eight is the third district. You hope that you’re remembering that correctly.

Although, you’re not sure if it actually matters how many districts still have two tributes. In fact, you think that the count of the amount of tributes that are still alive in total is the important number. Eleven people alive, not counting yourself. The games are already halfway over, and with how the death’s have been going, you think that it’ll be over in no time.

Trink clears her throat, letting you three know that she’s about to begin her story, “I’m a senior, and so is Lennox. And back home, we’re semi-popular because we play sports together after school, and it’s why I look like this.”

Alarms start ringing in your head, because there is no way that she’s that strong and buff looking just because she’s playing a couple of sports throughout high school. With arm muscle like that, she’s had to have been lifting weights or something like that. Better yet, the best explanation for why she’s obviously so beefed up, is because of the private training academies there are in the career districts.

As far as you know, there is none in Four. Then again, you live in such bad poverty that you wouldn’t ever qualify for a place like that. Either you have to pay to get in, or you have to take a portion of your victory royalties and pay them off to the place. In all honesty, you’re not sure if it’s worth it at that point.

Of course, being able to know how to fight and defend yourself and having so much confidence in winning is a nice mindset. Makes you prepared, blocks out all that hesitation and panic that happens most of the time. But on the other hand, it’s plain cheating.

Districts One and Two have it going on, and everyone knows that. Even the Capitol knows that there’s something suspicious going on inside of the districts, they just do nothing about it. Why? Because they’re favorites. They make the stuff that the Capitol likes the best. Which is jewelry and all that other bullshit.

For Trink try to pass it off as school activities is dumb. Everyone knows what’s going on. You just have a feeling she just doesn’t want to admit it out loud. After that, it’ll be confirmed and President Snow might just have to take actual action in shutting it down. Then again, he doesn’t seem like he would do that.

Those districts are the least resistant and most compliant with what the Capitol demands. Anything that the citizens want, they’ll deliver. Because it’s keeping them rich and on top of it. Keeps their victor’s villages plentiful and their poverty rates down. Nasty ass cheaters.

“Lennox had this thing with a girl going on. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, not even to me. But I’m smarter than that and caught on pretty quickly.” She says.

“Right.” Lennox says, there’s no intention for him to keep quiet, “That’s why you were so shocked when I finally told you.”

“I’m a great actress, what can I say?”

Lennox is laughing, “Bullshit! You’re a terrible actress. Fuck that story, do you two want to hear the time she was recruited for the school play?”

Trink’s eyes have narrowed dangerously and she’s pointing her finger in Lennox’s direction, “You shut up.”

“Then you shut up.”

“Lennox and the girl went into an empty classroom one day during lunch--”

“Shut up!” Lennox shouts.

Allio’s laughing, you’re zipping up the backpack with a smile, and Trink is having a hard time getting out the words, “It was a connecting classroom. There was a door to get to the classroom behind it for whatever reason.”

Lennox’s wiping his face, “No--”

“And in the connected classroom, was an english class taking a quiz, and the teacher in that room is so damn mean. Lennox and the girl start going at it, and I mean they’re getting into it--”

“Okay!” you laugh, “I don’t need the details.”

“The girl moaned his name once, and the entire class on the other side heard them. But no, Lennox and--what was her name?” Trink turns and looks at Lennox.

“I’m not telling you.”

“It starts with something fancy…” she’s snapping her fingers, a look of realization comes over her face and she’s looking smug, “Yeona.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Shut up for a second. Lennox and Yeona didn’t realize their mistake, even after there was giggling on the other side of the wall. Yeona moaned again, and that’s when the teacher on the other side had enough. One of my friends in the class at the time had sworn that they all thought it was teenage boys.

“But Miss whatever her name is, slams the door open and they’re caught red-fucking-handed. Butt naked--”

“Not butt naked!” Lennox is shouting, “Neither of us were naked!”

“Her shorts were pulled down to her thighs, Lennox. And your fingers were in unholy places. Maybe you weren’t butt naked, but she sure as hell was.” Trink moves her hair out of her face with her pinky nail, “Anyway, the teacher gave them both months of detention, and Lennox still has a lot of hours to make up. And it spread all around the school. And Yeona and Lennox are supposed to be grounded as hell.”

“I warned you.” Lennox says, “I’ll tell them about the school play.”

“Oh no, you won’t.” Trink is pushing herself to her feet, “Open your mouth and it’ll be full of sand.

You have a feeling that it’s not an empty threat, with how one hand that’s behind her back is full of sand, with a steady stream slipping between her fingers. Lennox doesn’t seem focused on her hands, more of the fact that he’s getting a chance to push her buttons.

“It was middle school, and she had bangs that were super fucking--”

His mouth is open wide, and she takes her chance. She wasn’t lying at all, she grabs a fistfull of Lennox’s brown hair and with the other hand, slaps the sand into his mouth. His eyes widen, and she lets go of him. He starts coughing, sand blowing out of his mouth and flying onto Allio.

“Dude!” Allio complains, face twisted.

Lennox is leaving the cornucopia, spitting out chunks of sand. Every time he bites down, you can hear crunching, which makes you cringe and gag. You can’t imagine the amount of bacteria in the sand, and how gross and dry it tastes.

“Bitch!” He coughs out, Trink looks satisfied and she’s dusting off her hands.

“Are we ready to go?” Allio asks.

You get to your feet, hoisting the backpack up and offering it to Trink. She takes it without a single complaint. After it’s around her shoulders, she picks up her sword and the rest of you follow suit, with the exception of Lennox. He’s now using water as mouthwash to clean out the sand.

“It’s stuck in my teeth.”

“Stop chewing.” Allio says.

“Thanks, genius.”

After that, the trip into the woods is fairly quiet. As usual, it’s about an hour’s walk to the pond. On the way, you four are sharing stories. Allio, Lennox and Trink share the most, since they seem to have a lot and are more enthusiastic than you are. You ask questions to keep them talking, but that’s about it.

They talk mostly about their family. Trink is an only child, so she has only her parents to worry about. She claims that they’re not very strict because they’re extremely proud of her and how far she’s come. She says that they deserve a nice place to live, and can do more than just retire with the victor royalties.

“We’d be able to get my mom a nice studio, a different room for each of her hobbies, and my dad will finally have a bigger desk for when he comes home. I can already picture what my room will look like.” She says, bouncing on her toes.

A room for each of her parents' hobbies? A whole office? You bite your tongue even though you want to tell her how lucky they’ve been. You’ve got a total of three bedrooms and one bathroom. One of the rooms is a graveyard, and the other two are shared between two people.

You wouldn’t necessarily say it’s cramped, because you’re lucky that you have a room away from your brothers in the first place, but you still don’t have your own space. You’re sharing it with Alyssum, and the room is the size of that walk-in closet back in the Capitol. Even then, that closet was huge.

And it’s not like you can even afford that place, even with both of your brother’s working overtime most nights. In all honesty, you remember the nights after you put Alyssum to bed, and you three gathered at the table to talk about the possibility of either selling the house to downgrade, or to sell your dead parent’s expensive jewelry that took them years to collect.

Most of them being heirlooms, others being gifted to them. All of them holding some sort of sentimental value that sparked the question of whether or not it would be morally right. In the end, you’ve never sold anything but you’ve cut it close plenty of times.

If you were to win, you’d get your own room, with brand new clothes and Alyssum would get all sorts of developmental toys. Reed and Mox would finally get their own rooms, which they’ve never had in their lives. Even before you were born and the third bedroom was empty, they had no choice but to share a room.

You’ll have a secure place to live, you wouldn't have to worry about rent anymore, you’d always have good food on the table, and would be able to afford the expensive things that Allio, Trink and Lennox can already get without the victor royalties. You bet that they’ve never had to go hungry some nights.

The conversation is sour on your part, and you slowly stop asking questions and instead find a particular interest in the sleeve of your jacket. They don’t seem to notice, continuously trading stories between each other. In what feels like forever, you’ve finally reached the pond and you’re loading up on water.

It’s a brief moment there, none of you need to stop yet. The sun is about to be in the middle of the sky, it’s still well before noon. You pick your things back up, and take the backpack from Trink, agreeing on trading it every other hour. After that, you’re right back to walking.

You’re all basically on the same path you took during the first day to get to where you’d stayed the night at. Had you all kept moving, you’re sure that Eytelle would still be alive and you’d be more used to the woods. Now, you’re not, and you’re beginning to see how many obstacles are poised throughout the trees.

The greenery looks suspicious, so you keep away from any leaves that vaguely remind you of poison ivy. You don’t think that the gamemakers would put something like that out here, especially not in what’s supposed to be a tropical-esk island. The cliffs that the pond was semi-hidden in, eventually dies out to a hill.

The only real cliff on this island is the big one that soars above all the trees, and can be seen from anywhere on the island. You wonder what’s on the other side of them, will it be ground or water? And what sick twist will be laying at the bottom? It could be a number of things, and all you hope is that you don’t get caught in it.

Unfortunately, the conversation doesn’t stay on them. Trink notices that you haven’t offered up any sort of information, and it immediately because of a blizzard of questions that you can hardly keep up with.

“What’s it like in Four?” Lennox asks.

“Busy.” you say, “And huge. My prep team said that we smell like fish, sweat and salt water, if that helps any.”

“What’s your family like?” Trink asks.

Yes, back to the family topic. Trink is an only child, Lennox has a younger brother, and Allio has a big family, similar to yours. He has an older sister and three younger brothers. And he even offered up information about Eytelle too, she has a younger brother and sister.

“Two older brothers and a younger sister.” you say, you feel vulnerable. Giving out information like this gives them a chance to use it against you somehow.

“Parents?” Allio asks.

You grit your teeth, “Dead.”

You’ve got their attention now, especially Allio. You know the question is coming before it even forms on his tongue, “How?”

He’s sadistic. Out of the four of you, you think that you’re the most dangerous kill-wise, but Allio is… demented. Asking questions on how people died and what it looked like. He might not have killed anyone, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t just sit around and watch and enjoyed it.

“Childbirth and drowning.”

“I thought you guys were supposed to be good swimmers.” Allio remarks, there’s a smug look on his face. Trink and Lennox are beginning to look uncomfortable.

“We are.” you look at him, pressing your lips together. “And a good example of that is the girl from Twelve.” the look on his face is fading. That’s right, you might have convinced them that you didn’t kill her, but you swam out of the depths of the pond and you’d do it again, “If you don’t believe me, we can go back to the pond and test the theory.”

There’s no answer.

“That’s what I thought.” you snap, looking back down at your sword.

You wonder if they’d be upset if you made a jump at Allio. He’s getting on everyone’s nerves, not just yours. This morning might have been full of high spirits, but he nearly killed Lennox just because Lennox tried to wake him up. There’s tension building, and it’s like a rubber band. It’s going to snap right back in your faces if you don’t stop it in time.

Hmm.

“Got any high school stories?” Trink finally asks, and you take the opportunity to launch into a story that lasts around thirty minutes.

Allio is quiet, stone-faced and sour looking. But the other two are in a light mood and laugh along at the right times and ask questions to keep it going. By the time you’ve finished the story, they’re begging for another. Lennox says that it’s funny, but not nearly as good as the Trink and the play story.

This time, Trink doesn’t shut it down because ‘he’s a fucking moron, might as well let him explain it badly’. And Lennox really does try his best to explain everything, but what’s funnier is watching and listening to Trink mock him and make faces. She’ll ‘uh huh’ and ‘right’ at the perfect moments, deadpanning and rolling her eyes.

By the time the sun is well, well past noon, Allio seems to be lightening up again. Trink begins to complain that her feet hurt, and it’s reasonable since you’ve all been walking for hours. You take a break at some tree beneath the shade, trink a minimal amount of water and hope that there will be another pond or stream somewhere close.

As soon as your feet stop aching, you’re back on your feet for a brief moment of time. It’s so short because of how fast the sun is setting. You all agree that it has to be the gamemakers, and decide to try and find a place to stay for the night. It’s just meaningless wandering for a while, until Trink spots something through the trees.

“Is that a fucking house?” Lennox asks, and then the four of you are running up to it.

Without a warning, he’s kicking down the door, and you’re all squinting into the shack. There’s no one inside, and it doesn’t even look like anyone has stayed here either. It’s a good sign, you don’t have to sit outside for the night. The moment that you’re all shutting the door, and Lennox is sitting in front of it to keep it shut, you’re growing tired.

So, quickly you eat the squirrel and a few crackers with the others. There had been no deaths today, so there’s no recap to worry about, and you’re all in the clear to sleep. You’re sure that you won’t need your jacket to sleep tonight, but there’s wind whistling through the cracks in the window pane, and you decide that you’d rather be hot than cold.

You use your arm as a pillow, hand on your knife at all times. The moment you begin to drift off, you can hear the light patter on rain on the wooden roof. Tomorrow will be wet, and you’re glad that you didn’t leave the jacket at the cornucopia after all. And because the noise of the rain is so mesmerizing, you’re falling asleep quickly.

Again, in the morning, it’s clear that Allio isn’t a morning person. Lennox had switched out in the middle of the night with him, and he clearly wasn’t happy about it. You can still hear the howl of the wind, which makes you all hesitate and debate on whether or not you should go out there.

You have no problem with the wind and rain, it’s whether or not it’s a tropical storm that has you concerned. You’ve been through plenty of rain storms back home, in fact, you think you might thrive in the rain. And you’re sure that Finnick is beginning to realize this too.

But despite this, the others decide to stay inside the shack. Lennox remarks that it’s a good thing none of you had actually stayed at the cornucopia, otherwise you’d be drenched and freezing. So, Lennox and Allio go right back to sleep and you’re left to stay awake with Trink.

“How long do you think that the storm will last?” she asks, picking at the wooden floorboards.

You look at the window. It’s dirty on the inside, already making it hard to see through, but with the rain constantly pounding on the other side, it makes it that much harder. You tilt your head, purse your lips as you try to think. The sky doesn’t look that dark from as much as you can tell, but that doesn’t really mean anything.

And you’re on an island, and the rain might be gamemaker-engineered. Could mean a number of things. It could last for days, and at that point, you’d all be flushed out and be shit out of luck when it comes to hunting animals and fishing, just fueling starvation. But on the other hand, it could all be some scheme for a fight.

“Depends on the circumstances.” you close your eyes, leaning your head up against the wall, “A load of things could be going on out there. I’d say that if it’s the gamemakers that’s doing this, it’ll hopefully be done in a day or two. Which just means that we should ration out the rabbit, crackers and other stuff carefully.”

“I’ll keep that in mind when I’m eating.” she says, you open your eyes to see she’s got a small, teasing smile on her face.

The two of you fall into silence, and eventually you’re being dragged under again. You’re not all that surprised, sleeping in the sand might feel like a perfect bed, with how you shaped the sand. But it’s not exactly comfortable, and you’d much rather have something like the wooden floor boards. Even if they’re hard.

You’re tired. There’s rain on the house, and you can make the whistling of the wind sound like a song. Your last thought before you fall asleep is how you think that it’s a perfect time to be well-rested.

The next time you wake up, it’s to your boot being nudged. Your fingers fly across the floorboards and to your knife in the same instance that you open your eyes. It’s the others, the rabbit is displayed in front of them, clearly they’re ready to eat. You look at the window, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. The storm has definitely calmed down.

“Did I miss anything?” you ask, scooting towards them and sitting up.

“Don’t know. It was really loud out there for a while.” Allio says, you’re fairly surprised that he’s talking to you.

“It’s barely a drizzle out there. We’re going to eat and then take a look into the sky to see if anyone’s died.” Trink says.

Of course, you slept the day away in the shack. You can’t be upset at it, and you have a feeling that tonight will be your turn to stand guard. You go ahead and help the others distribute most of the rabbit fairly, and when you’re still hungry, you eat a cracker and drink some water and insist that you won’t eat anymore.

Since you’re all well-rested, you all play some stupid game to pass the time. When Lennox starts yawning, they call it a night. You take the shift, and sit against where you had been sleeping before, which is on the far side of the room, away from the door. You listen as they all start to settle down, and their breathing becomes more spaced out.

And then you have the urge to pee, and manage to remember that you all were supposed to watch the sky. You tuck the knife into your belt and take your sword with you, zipping up the jacket to your chin and throwing the hood over your head. When you step out of the shack, you’re extremely quiet with how you shut the door, in order not to wake them.

It’s definitely not that late into the night, and it’s still raining lightly. You lean against the sword, staring through the tree leaves, into the sky. It’s a long silence, and you begin to believe that maybe you all had missed it after all. And then the Capitol symbol is appearing in the sky, and the anthem is starting.

Finnick and Blaire are still alive, their faces don’t appear in the sky. But the girl from Six appears, and no one follows after her. Such a big storm for one little person? You hope the gamemakers don’t have some underlying plan going on.

You take care of your business, and slip right back into the shack undetected. After shutting the door and making sure that it won’t be coming loose, you take a seat in your space, and spend the rest of the night there. Sometime during the middle of the night, you’ve pulled out the rope that’s buried deep into the backpack, and spend mindless time tying it and untying it in various knots.

Trink is the first to wake when the sun rises, since the sun rays are landing on her face. You offer to switch spaces with her, but instead she says that she’ll take the small amount of time before the others awake. Now, it’s your turn to take a small nap. It doesn’t last more than a couple of hours, which is fine. A power nap here and there won’t hurt.

When you’re all ready to go, you go right back into the woods. The grass and leaves on the ground are still slippery because of the rain, but there’s a comforting smell coming from the plants. There’s no complaints between you all, and for hours, it’s just silence between you all with the occasional chatter.

You’re all just mostly thirsty, wanting to find a pond or something with water. The deeper you wander into the trees, the more you realize that there’s going to be absolutely nothing. You can’t hear rushing water, and you’re too far away from the beach to go and drink salt water.

You don’t bother to break this news to the group, figuring that they’ve come to this conclusion, themselves. In the meantime, you continue to drink your water in measured time and hope that this isn’t making it worse on you. Allio says that you all should have set out some tarp and collected rain water, but it was quickly dismissed by Trink.

The water likely wouldn’t have been good to drink, and the idea really went to shit when he said that you could’ve used whatever came off the roof of the shack. Allio’s back in a sour mood after that, muttering, “Why am I always the bad guy?”

You bite your tongue, not wanting to tell him that he’s typically the one to start fights between you all. And just because someone cancels out his idea, doesn’t mean that it was a direct attack to him. You have a feeling that he gets the most attention back home, which is a hard transition.

It’s about another hour of wandering before it begins to dawn on you all for real. The arena has become hotter, the sun beats down on your backs, and at this point sitting in the shade is doing nothing. Lennox tells you that he’s out of water, and after a very small sip of yours, you give him the rest.

And then it’s done for Trink and Allio.

“How far back to the shack?” you ask, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You almost wish that you could take off the shirt and get away with it, but there’s no doubt that your brother’s back home will be losing their shit.

Then again, it’s for survival. You don’t want to drop in some useless heap on the ground because of heat stroke. Honestly, you’ve always hated the heat. Spring time is the best in District Four, because it’s not too hot and it’s not too cold, either. You begin to lose interest during the summer because that’s when you begin to sweat more, and the house feels awful to sit inside of.

No air conditioning, which makes for days at the beach to try and cool yourself off, only then do you get sunburns and have to spend the days inside, anyway. It’s miserable, trying to get away from the heat. When you were a kid, your mother used to give you and your brothers a fair chunk of change to go down to the ice cream parlor on heatwave days. You’d get to buy ice cream in exchange for a cold, air conditioned building. And Caspian and Calandra would always join you three.

And you wouldn’t be kicked out for hours, when the sun would finally be setting. Thank the owners, and then you’re all going back to the house. By that time, mom would have dinner ready and it would always be something naturally cold to ease the hot feeling you’d all have.

It’s the same thing for winter time, except with cold instead of the heat.

“Hours.” Lennox says, Trink is fanning herself with some large plant leaves, and it doesn’t look like it’s helping much.

Allio is fairly unbothered, he’s got this smug look on his face, “It’s not even that hot.”

“Shut up.” Lennox snaps, “It’s at least a hundred degrees in here.”

“And I’ve felt worse.”

Trink glares at him, “Shut up.”

You lean your head back against the tree, eyes closed. In no way are you tired, there’s just a pounding headache going on in your head. Your mouth is dry, and this is just the beginning of the three day process of dehydration.

Someone breathes in like they’re getting ready to talk, but they’re cut off by a chiming. Your eyes open, you lean forward to look out to see where it’s coming from. Lennox is on his feet, arms outstretched towards the gift from sponsors. The gift is fairly big, and you recognize it as a feast almost immediately.

Lennox sets it down in the middle of you all, popping open the lid. And immediately, you can smell all the delicious food inside, none of them actually have steam coming up. Cold food. And the bottles of water that have condensation running down them.

“Here.” Lennox passes off a piece of paper to you, “Read it.”

He begins to divide the food evenly, and it looks like cold cut sandwiches and water. You can’t see what’s under them just yet, but you know there’s more. There’s always several layers to a feast sponsor gift like this. And it really would be stupid to eat it all at once, and you think they know that too.

You look down at the paper, reading over it the first time around. This was a conjoined gift, from multiple mentors and sponsors, “‘A gift from us to you. Happy Hunger Games, signed Gloss, Enobaria and Anchor’.” You lay the paper aside, you recognize all three of the names.

It’s funny, since they’re all technically in order of each other. Anchor won before Enobaria, and Gloss won the year after Enobaria. And then after Gloss would be Cashmere, his own sister. This year will be the decider of whether or not it’ll be another District One or Two win, or a Four.

“Thank you.” you say, and the other’s chime in as well.

Trink and Lennox work together to split two sandwiches in half to make four. And then pawn them off to you and Allio. You’re free to take a cold water bottle for yourself, beneath the sandwiches you can see all sorts of fruits and vegetables that are undoubtedly fresh.

Obviously your mentors were trying to keep the foods as cold as possible to try and combat the heat. You can appreciate that, you feel like Anchor and Enobaria have the best idea of what it’s like to exist in heat. You sip on your water every now and then, not wanting to drink it all up. In no time, the sandwich is gone, though.

Even with all the nice food and cold water, the arena is still hot. You agree to give yourselves some more time before getting up and going. Lennox shuts the lid on the gift before Allio can reach over and grab more, and passes it off to you and Trink to put in your backpack because he thinks you guys have the most room.

You share a look with Trink, because that’s obviously not the reason. You go ahead and find space for it in your backpack anyway. Wanting to keep the water from your water bottle cold, you dump the remaining water into the metal thermos in hopes that it’ll work. The others think that it’s smart, and do the same thing.

With no garbage can around, you throw your water bottle at Lennox as a joke. He gives you a dangerous look before throwing his right back at you. It doesn’t hurt much, especially when it’s the bottom that hits your forehead. As you go through this, Trink says that she can juggle, and suddenly you’re giving up your bottles to watch her try.

It’s not the best, but she wasn’t much of a liar.

“If circuses still existed, you’d be the perfect act.” Allio says.

You can see the anger that flashes through Trink’s eyes. Before Lennox can lean over and restrain her, she’s launched across the picnic that you’ve set up, hands wrapped around Allio’s throat. You and Lennox get to your feet in a scramble, not liking the fight that’s going on.

Grabbing a hold of Trink’s shoulder, you place your foot on Allio’s chest to keep him down while you yank her off. With the help of Lennox, the two of you get Trink off of him.

“Get the fuck off of me!” Allio huffs, “Fucking bitch.”

He pushes your leg off of him, which causes you to stumble and fall into the grass. Trink is brushing the dirt off of her jeans, but she’s glaring at Allio, “Try me.”

“I did.”

She stands up again, and Lennox is placing himself between her and Allio, “Take a breather, please.”

“Beat the fuck out of him for me.” she snaps, and then swipes her sword on her way out.

It’s just you, Lennox and Allio still beneath the shade. Once again, you get to your feet, feeling a little pissed off yourself. He had no right to push you like that, not after you basically saved his life with Lennox. He should be thanking you, but instead his face is red and he looks like he’s going to attack one of you.

“Chill out.” Lennox says, “Seriously.”

“It was a fucking joke. Guess the bitch doesn’t know how to take one.”

“Or you don’t know how to read a room.” you suggest.

His eyes turn to you, “Yeah, I don’t know how to read a room. Fuck off, you’re fifteen, you have no idea what you’re doing. You’re not even going to win.”

“Watch your fucking mouth. You’ve got two people that don’t like you. If I were you, I’d start walking.”

Allio is puffing up, Lennox slaps his hand on Allio’s chest, keeping him from going at you, “Go back to the cornucopia or chill out.”

He doesn’t say anything else, you sweep up the backpack and pull it over your shoulders. Lennox does the same with the other backpack, and after getting your weapons, you’re alright back to walking. Lennox says that you guys should take a wide circle and go back to the cornucopia, since it’s clear that the forest is dense and you haven’t come across anyone so far.

You walk beside Trink, who's on the far left, and Lennox walks with Allio, who’s on the other side.

“He’s getting on my nerves.” she mutters.

“Mine too.”

She looks at you, “What did Lennox say to him after I left?”

“Told him to chill out, and I said a few things too. He wasn’t very happy.”

“I bet not. Hopefully that’s put him into his place.” Trink picks at her nails. Which is still covered in nail polish, just like yours.

Your nails have seen better days. There’s dirt beneath them, the polish is chipped in the corners. You can only imagine what they’ll look like in a few days. Better or worse? You’re just lucky there isn’t dried blood beneath them.

The heat begins to lessen up by the time the sun is setting. It still feels like it’s eighty degrees though, and you still slowly drink your water. Somehow, you all manage to circle back to the shack, which is still incredibly empty.

None of you are really hungry tonight, still mulling over what had happened earlier in the day. Allio tries to take the night shift, but the answer from all three of you is no. Lennox says that since he’s the one that’s most indifferent to the situation--Trink rolls her eyes--he’ll watch over all of you.

There is no rain on the shack tonight, instead the wind howls and acts like it’s going to break the wooden structure down. It makes you feel like you’re all on the verge of another storm, but you can’t see the gamemakers doing that so soon. It’s obvious that the rain and the heat was their making. They’re trying to break you guys.

It worked, for the most part. The four of you didn’t pass out from heatstroke, obviously but it did raise the irritation. You figured that would happen anyway, you’re sure that the fact that you haven’t run across anyone over the course of these days, haven’t helped at all.

Tonight, you don’t wear the jacket when you go to bed. You keep the backpack guarded behind you, and fall asleep with one arm through the hoop, and the other with a knife clutched in your hand.

When you wake, you figure out pretty quickly that you’re the first. Lennox definitely fell asleep at some time last night. You sit up, a quiet yawn coming from you, stretching your arms and setting down the knife. Your arm is still hooked around the backpack strap, and when you finally stretch the joint, it’s stiff.

You know almost immediately that you have to pee, but take the task of checking on the backpack first. You figure that it’s going to be fine, because there’s no reason for it not to be. But you find it unzipped, and when you pull back the fabric in a panic, the entire feast of food is missing.

The metal pot is gone, and so is the spare knife that you brought just in case you lost the first. And as far as you remember, none of the others brought a knife, and they know that you brought the spare. There’s only one person who’s been going at everyone lately, too.

You turn, eyes glared at Allio, who’s got his back to you and is still sleeping. You lean over, swiping his half-full water bottle and throwing it at the back of his head. He gasps, hand flying to the back of his head, “What the fuck?”

Lennox’s eyebrows draw in, awake now. He stretches his arms out in front of him and opens his eyes. Trink has turned over halfway, squinting and tired looking. Allio has sat up, and a staring contest has started between you two.

“That’s what I should be asking. Where the fuck is the food?”

That’s got everyone waking up.

“What the hell do you mean?” Lennox asks.

“The food is missing, all of it.” You pull the backpack around, and throw it so that everything spills out, making an incredible amount of noise and getting your point across, “Where is it?”

“Does it look like I have it?” Allio snaps.

Trink’s awake, she’s sitting up and reaching for the backpack that the boys were supposed to be carrying. Lennox passes it over to her, and she unzips and begins to go through it.

“You probably ate it all.”

“We don’t know that.” Lennox says, but he’s on the fence, you can tell with how his eyes keep shifting to Allio.

Trink clicks her tongue, and then slowly pulls out a container of grapes. All eyes are then turned on Allio, who’s turning a deep shade of red, “You planted that on me.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“You said it yourself yesterday! Don’t play stupid.”

You lean forward, “With that logic, Trink should be suspect too, but she has no reason to steal. You do, filthy ass pig.”

His nostrils flare, “Listen--”

“No! You listen!” you grab the container of grapes, hurling it at Allio, “After the shit you’ve pulled in the last twenty-four hours, I have a good reason to believe this. And the fact that one of my knives is missing is weird too. And by the way, I’ve been asleep all night, I have no fucking clue about you.

“Honestly, you could have gotten up after Lennox fell asleep to rummage through the bag, eat all the fucking food and save the grapes for later.”

“One of your knives is missing?” Trink asks.

“Yeah, I brought a second one in case I lost the first. You guys know that.”

Lennox is nodding, face hard as he turns to Allio, “Empty out your pockets.”

“You can’t be serious!”

Trink’s zipping up the boy’s backpack, “Got something to hide? If you don’t have it, you shouldn’t be getting defensive.”

Allio sends a nasty glare your way, standing up from where he was sleeping only minutes ago. He plunges his hands into his pockets and turns them inside out, all of them. Even his jacket, which he turns the hood upside down for.

“She’s accusing me and doesn’t even have proof.” he snarls.

“The grapes aren’t good enough proof?” you ask.

He motions to Lennox, “He could have placed them in the backpack, did you think of that?”

“Except I didn’t.”

“You were up all night last night watching the door, you’re telling me you didn’t get a bit hungry?” Allio’s squinting at him.

Lennox moves the jacket that’s laying over his lap, revealing a packet of crackers that he had grabbed for himself. You’ve watched him go through it over the course of these days. And Allio, seeing the packet, turns an even darker shade.

“This is dog shit!” he finally yells, grabbing his sword.

You three almost have the same reaction, fingers reaching for your weapons. But Allio leaves the shack, slamming the door hard enough to make the building shudder. It leaves you all in silence, and it’s not long before Lennox is looking at you.

“Did you wake up at all last night?”

“No.” you shake your head, “I woke up with the strap still around my arm, and my knife near my other hand. If you could take a guess, what time did you fall asleep last night?”

“Early morning.” He’s shrugging, shaking his head lightly too, “the sky was beginning to lighten up, but there wasn’t a sunrise.”

“Did he look awake?” Trink asks.

“No, you all were out cold.”

You press your lips together, gathering all of the contents of the backpack, back inside, “What if someone came in last night?”

It’s a cold silence this time, neither of them speak a word and you’re fairly sure that they stop breathing too.

“Why would someone sneak in and not kill us?” Trink asks.

“The door creaks too.” Lennox says.

You zip up the bag, and then look at them, “The door doesn’t creak if you’re careful with it. The night of the storm, I got up to pee and the door didn’t make a sound when I opened it or closed it.”

Trink’s looking at Lennox, “And a cannon would go off, wouldn’t it?”

Lennox’s nodding, thinking.

Eventually, Allio comes back to the shack, and by then you’ve got all the food piled up. You divide it again, disappointed that you won’t be having half a sandwich again today. But it’s better that you don’t, you think. Once you’re done eating, you pack up your stuff and just leave the garbage in the corner of the room.

It’s back on track to the cornucopia. In just a few hours, you’re replenishing your water at the pond. Lennox suggests hunting as much as you all can on the way back to the cornucopia, which means splitting up. But Trink says that there hasn’t been a single animal in the few hours it took you to get there.

However, you can see movement in the pond.

“Leave a backpack with me, I’ll just sit here and fish.” You hold out your hand for the one that Trink has. With no problem, she swings it off and hands it over.

“Don’t want company?” Allio asks.

You look at Allio, “Do you want to eat tonight or not?” you snap.

“Let’s go.” Lennox pushes Allio slightly to get him moving.

“See you in a few hours.” Trink says, “Be safe.”

“You guys too.” you wave, and then wait for them to leave completely.

After that, you place the backpack firmly next to you, and then get up to grab the fishing pole from the bush. Once you sit back down, you mess with it to get it to be comfortable in your hands again. You lay out a sheet of plastic, and then grab out your water bottle to use it as the reel.

It’s just a waiting game now.

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair lacuna #lacuna

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paintedwithapalette · 4 years ago

Text

An Oath to Return

SoKai Week Day 5 - Tanabata/Star-Crossed Lovers

Word Count: 1,663

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

He’s late. But by now, Kairi expects as much.

She sits on the ledge of a fountain, immaculate in its detail and proud in its stature. Nice and snug in her pink yukata with white flower embroidery trailing down the right and the checkered purple obi that binds her waist, she waits patiently as she watches the children attempting to play despite their limited movement, the couples walking hand in hand, and the numerous booths and games on display with prizes for the taking.

Still no sign of him. Despite the sigh that escapes her, her smile doesn’t waver. Even though it would have been nice if he were a bit more on top of things, Kairi wouldn’t have him any other way.

Just as her eyes propelled to the sky glittered in stars, she hears a voice.

“Kairi!”

Right on cue. She snaps her head in the direction of the sound to find her favorite lazy bum scrambling towards her, his movement stiff due to his dark grey yukata with horizontal light streaks streaming downwards. He nearly bumps into someone carrying a recently won goldfish and apologizes profusely, the distraction doing little to derail his attention from Kairi for too long. She giggles as she clasps her hands together and rises to her feet just in time for him to reach her.

“Hey! Sorry I’m a little late, something came up a little unexpectedly,” Sora apologizes, rubbing the back of his head. “I hope I didn’t make you wait too long, at least. It was just, uh… kinda urgent.”

She sends a knowing look accompanied by a smirk. “You took a nap, didn’t you?”

“Whaaat? Of course not!” he denies. Kairi rests her fists against her hips, dipping down as her eyebrow arches in a way that intensifies her smirk even further. “O-okay, so maybe I napped... a little.” Sora emphasizes this by pinching the air with his index finger and thumb.

Kairi grins triumphantly. “Should I really have expected any less of you, Sora?”

“It’s not what you think, though. Naminé wanted to look through my memories to see if there was anything she could find that might help us with, y’know, the current situation,” he nearly trails off before he perks back up, scratching his cheek with a bashful smile. “And, well, I kinda had to be asleep for it. That’s all.”

Kairi smiles as well, though it’s laced with a tinge of bittersweetness. “Well, in that case, I suppose you’re forgiven.”

“Thanks! I was real worried that—”

The sudden warm of her arms wrapped around his torso quickly puts Sora into a trance. For a brief instant, his mind wanders back to the time when they found each other in the original Organization’s stronghold and soon he returns the embrace.

“As long as you’re here, that’s all that matters to me,” Kairi says, nuzzling into his chest. “Let’s just... make the most of today, okay?”

Sora nods, his eyes firm before he pulls back and sends an assuring smile in hopes of lifting her spirits. “Just like we always do.”

They wander the busy festival streets with their fingers laced together under a beautiful starry sky, making sure to check out all the attractions and games at their disposal. As he walks with Kairi with their hands intertwined, being able to hear the soft giggles and witness her kind smile in person, he thinks just how much this feels right. Even the little things she did found a way to make his heart swoon.

Meanwhile, Kairi adores the way Sora’s eyes light up whenever something catches his attention. The way he pulls and drags her in every which way looking to find adventure in every corner of the festival.

After they both write and hang their wishes on their tanzaku, both having an inkling of what the other wishes for though neither mentions it, Sora leads Kairi to a hill on the outskirts that gives them a view of the whole festival. From here, they can take in the ornate lights hung in droves, the fluctuating colors uniting together in harmony.

She rests her head on his shoulder, shutting her eyes as she feels his warmth pressing against her cheek. Watching her almost angelic face is enough to make Sora’s heart flutter.

“This is the way it should be,” Kairi says. “I wish we could just stay like this. Forever.”

Forever.

Suddenly, the air grew tense, as if something taboo had been said. Sora keeps his sights set on the grass while Kairi draws invisible circles on the ground. It’s a reality neither wants to accept, but know they’ll have to face. Sooner, rather than later.

Sora looks down at his hand and watches as it almost looks like translucent glass. He sighs before putting on a smile. “Kairi, I have something for you.”

“Huh?” Kairi asks, lifting up from his side as she sends her wide, curious eyes and a slight tilt of her head. Sora chuckles at her reaction.

“Close your eyes,” he requests.

Kairi doesn’t hesitate to comply.

“Hold out your hand.”

Kairi does as told and feels a paper-like substance enter her palm only a moment later. She rubs her thumb across the paper-like texture and concludes in her head that it’s... shaped like a star?

“Okay, you can open them,” Sora says.

The first thing Kairi sees is a somewhat spotty-looking star about the same size as the lucky charm she gave him years prior. Indeed, it is a wayfinder made of leaves tied together with less than grace and on the top leaf there is a face with eyelashes and deep blue eyes. She assumes it must be Sora’s attempt at drawing her face the same way she had drawn him years ago.

“I’m not the best at sewing seashells,” Sora admits, scratching the back of his head. “I know it isn’t the best, but I kind of had to improvise since the seashell thing didn’t really work out.”

Kairi’s lips part for a brief instant before she closes her eyes and reopens them with a gracious smile. “I love it.”

“Really?” Sora asks in disbelief.

Kairi giggles. “Of course. It’s so thoughtful of you.”

“Well, I just figured... I wanted to double our promise.”

He pulls out his own good luck charm Kairi had given him.

“Now, one for the both of us,” Sora says. “Who knows? Maybe it’ll be double the good luck!”

With a sheen of water shimmering over her eyes, Kairi holds it up to the moonlit sky. “It’s beautiful.”

Sora smiles as well. “I know one person that has it beat by a couple of miles.”

Kairi feels the heat rise to her cheeks, but the giddiness never leaves the ends of her lips. “Delightfully corny, as usual. But I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Sora smiles as they both cuddled together, embracing each other and their final moments. It has been like this for the past few years. Two years and they still hadn’t found a way to bring Sora back to their realm. But for some reason, whether it be fate by whatever deities exist or the universe just having mercy on them, Sora miraculously returned to the Realm of Light on the week of Tanabata. It was a week Sora and Kairi always make sure to make the most of each and every day.

But the hardest part was saying goodbye.

And it always happens on the final day of Tanabata. For the past few years, they made a habit out of coming to this very same spot and watching the stars twinkle above them as Sora slowly faded away.

You’re only everything I’ve ever dreamed...

Despite their gratefulness for being granted the time that they’ve been given, it never made it any easier. The curse placed upon Sora for his abuse of the power of waking had taken a toll on their longing for each other, but in moments like these, despite the hurt, they still had latent hope that one day this will be over.

It helps that the sky is mesmerizing.

Ever dreamed of, ever dreamed of...

They hold each other’s hands tight, neither letting go as they keep close. The wind quietly whistles as it gently caresses their hair.

You must be kidding me, did you really think... I could say no...

Sora feels it coming. He turns to her and Kairi hesitates, but finds the willpower to sit up from her position, away from his warmth and into the familiarity of the cold loneliness of her usual day-to-day life. But neither let the other’s hand go.

I want you for a lifetime, but if you gotta think twice... baby...

“Kairi...” Sora says. “I think it’s time for me to go.”

Despite how heart aches, Kairi nods understandably. “I know.”

I don’t wanna know, baby... I don’t wanna know...

With equally sad smiles, they close the gap between them and press their lips together. Kairi deepens the kiss as a tear streams down her left cheek. How bittersweet. How could something be so bittersweet and tear her apart all at the same time?

Everything is just right, but if you gotta think twice, baby... I don’t wanna know, baby...

As they part, Sora grips her hand tighter. “I’ll come back to you. I promise.”

She grips his hand back just as hard despite the fact she feels herself slowly beginning to grip nothing but air. “I know you will.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

It’s just her again.

But this time, she looks down at the lucky charm he gives her and sees the determined smile he drew of Kairi. She sniffs, wiping away her tears as she looks up to the sky. An act of forbidden love. But she remembers something that Aqua told her once. And with this trinket of hers, she knows it’s an oath to his return.

“There’s always a way.”

I don’t wanna know...

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

And with that, my final piece for SoKai Day! I’m so glad I was able to celebrate these two dorks, they’ve been my OTP since 2006. Check out the full version of this piece by my amazing friend @amyhayanora!

#sokaiweek2020 #sokai #sora #kairi #kingdom hearts fanfiction #kingdom hearts

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imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs · 4 years ago

Text

The Lost World Rewrite

So, I recently watched the Lost World: Jurassic Park for the first time and all I gotta say is...

Yeah. So, in spite of the fact I feel that it would be Superfluous and self-aggrandizing, and a maturely written well thought out review would be a better use of my time, I decided to do a rewrite of the Lost World to make it a half-decent movie. I apologize to any fans of the film in advance. This is a rough Idea based on what could be done without completely throwing out the script. Here we go...

The film starts the same; little girl gets mauled by Compies on Isla Sorna

Cut to not Ian Malcolm; there is no Ian Malcolm in this film. There will never be Ian Malcolm in this film. Instead, we cut to Dr. Sarah Harding (played by Julianne Moore) who’s photographing a crocodile nesting. We learn a little bit about her from her assistant, Nick Van Owen (played by Vince Vaughn), namely that while her theories on Dinosaur young rearing are as on point as Alan Grant’s raptor research, she’s not so hot at rearing young herself. Case in point, she’s late for her daughter’s gymnastics performance.

Her daughter is of course Kelly Curtis played by Vanessa Lee Chester, who in this version will have a larger role and more developed personality. Kelly is Sarah’s adopted daughter and the two have been at a loss at what to do with one another since meeting. Kelly is the daughter of one of Sarah’s oldest friends who died while traveling and Sarah took her in. While their relationship isn’t horrible, it’s definitely awkward. Like when Sarah bursts through the gymnasium doors to see Kelly has completely finished her routine and the seat reserved for her has been given to someone else (maybe Michael Crichton or Steven Spielberg in a cameo?)

Later that night, Sarah is called by a mysterious voice on the phone, telling her to pack a suitcase and go outside. She does so and a black SUV pulls up. “Get in.” a man’s voice tells her.

“OK,” Sarah says, annoyed, “who are you people and what’s with the G-man routine?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a G-man routine.” says a familiar voice.

We pan over to reveal John Hammond (Richard Attenborough) sitting across from Sarah.

“Can I offer you a drink?” he asks.

The conversation is much the same as the movie with Ian Malcolm (Hammond explains Site B, tells Sarah about the JP incident, etc.). Only this time, there’s a big difference: InGen wants to cut ties with the Jurassic Park debacle and intends to let the Costa Rican Government fire bomb it. Hammond wants to get people onto the island and document the animals to drum up environmentalist support for turning it into a preserve and at least stave off the destruction until a humane solution can be found.

“How can I say no!?” Sarah says. A chance to photograph real Dinosaurs. Never in 65 million years did she think she’d get this chance.

The team she’ll be going to the island with includes herself, Hammond, Van Owen (“Nick’s the best person for the job” Sarah insists), equipment manager Eddie Carr (Richard Schiff), Dr. Robert Burke (Thomas F. Duffy) (“are we sure he’s not a country singer?” Sarah asked, eyeing the supposed paleontologist’s ten gallon hat and beard), celebrity big game hunter Roland Tembo (Pete Postlethwaite), and InGen executive Peter Ludlow, Hammond’s own nephew (“I made the mistake of trusting too many people last time,” Hammond said, “this time, I’m playing it close to the vest.”)

The team arrives on the Island, where Peter suggests setting up camp in a low clearing, much to Tembo’s chagrin (“that,” Tembo said, rolling his eyes, “is a game trail, Mr. Ludlow. Carnivores hunt on game trails. do you want to find dinosaurs or serve them lunch?”)

The group wanders through deep Jungle, Hammond and Ludlow being the slowest, one due to their age the other due to being a little on the wimpy side. As the journey goes on, it becomes apparent that there’s some friction between Peter and John, with Peter second guessing John every chance he gets and trying to act like the leader of the group.

They finally come across a family of stegosaur and we get that adorable pet the baby scene from the movie. Eddie is flabbergasted, Nick is taking pictures like crazy, Burke’s having a conniption, Hammond swells with pride, and we don’t really know what’s going through Peter and Tembo’s heads.

Something startles the Stegs (Tembo reached for his gun. “No!” Nick grabbed the barrel of Tembo’s gun.)

Nick fumed “An animal that hasn’t been seen in over a million years turns up and the only way you can express yourself is to kill it?” Tembo smiled. “Remember that chap about twenty years ago? I forget his name. Climbed Everest without any oxygen, came down nearly dead. When they asked him, they said why did you go up there to die? He said I didn't, I went up there to live.” (cryptic, no?)

“What could have set them off like that?” Wondered Burke. Roland, however, scented the air. “Smoke,” he said simply, pointing “coming from that way. They must have thought it was from a forest fire.”

The group rushes back to their camp, discovering the campfire burning. Eddie and Burke make to smother it. However, the camper door opens to reveal—

“I was gonna have dinner ready when you got back.” Kelly said.

Sarah and Kelly have an argument inside the camper, about how Sarah’s never there for her and how she just washed out of her gymnastics team (“I got bronze,” she said, “not that you’d know. You didn’t even stick around long enough for that part.”)

Kelly convinces Sarah she can stay. We cut to a scene of the group in jeeps, riding through grasslands in a heard of various Dinosaurs. Nick’s in the jeep with Tembo, Peter, and Hammond, while Sarah is with Kelly, Eddie, and Burke. (Tembo turned to Nick. “get in the outrigger. You're closing in on a parasaur.” “Parasaurolophus,” Nick corrected smugly.” “Whatever,” said Tembo, “The one with the big red horn! The pompadour! *Elvis!*”)

Nick climbs into the outrigger and begins to film the dinosaurs. In the other jeep, the group is trying to coax Eddie into their own outrigger.

“No way I’m getting into that thing,” Eddie said “not surrounded by dinosaurs.” “We’re gonna need better shots if we want to save these dinosaurs,” Sarah said, “and you’re the only one who knows how to work the equipment.” “So do you,” Eddie said, “Why not pull over and let me drive? I used to drive cabs for a living.” “I know how the use the camera.” Kelly said. Sarah stared at her. “You do?” “I was in AV club before gymnastics.”

The group snaps Kelly in and they begin their own filming process. For the first time in a long time, Kelly and Sarah seem to be having fun together.

After that moment of chipperness, we cut back to camp. (Roland nodded to Nick. “Tree hugger got a great shot of a Pachy... a pachy... oh, hell. One of those fatheads with the bald spot, Friar Tuck!”) Peter and Hammond are looking over a map. Peter insists that they should go to the abandoned worker village on the other side of the island, where they can find easy shelter and supplies (“IT runs on geothermal power, so it’ll still have power”). Hammond disagrees. (“Absolutely not,” Hammond said, “that part of the island has been overrun by Velociraptors.” Peter frowned “What’s that, veloc-o-?” “Velociraptor,” Burke said, “Carnivore, pack hunter. About two meters tall, long snout, binocular vision, strong, dextrous forearms, and killing claws on both feet.” “That doesn’t sound promising.” said Peter. “You should read Alan Grant’s latest paper on them,” said Burke, “It’s like he met one in real life!”)

Meanwhile, Roland Tembo is now kneeling, looking at a track.

“Come take a look at this.” he says. Everyone gathers around. “do you know what this is?” he asks. Sarah’s eyes grew wide. “We have to leave.” she said. “Why?” asked Kelly. “That’s a T-Rex track!” Burke said. “A T-Rex!” Eddie looked as if he was about to break for the beach and try to swim home. “That’s impossible!” said Hammond “the satellite photos showed that the Rex territory is nowhere near here.”

The group decides to risk staying in the area. Later that night, Kelly hears a noise. Curious, she goes outside to investigate. In the moonlight, she sees a team of unknown men in night vision goggles capturing the dinosaurs that they had been filming earlier that day. As the drive off, Kelly grabs onto the back of one of the trailers to follow them.

We cut back to Sarah’s tent. She’s asleep, not having been roused by her daughter’s departure. But she is roused by what sounds like deep breathing outside. She surreptitiously looks around and sees a massive snout sticking into her tent. It’s the Tyrannosaur!

Just then, Peter Ludlow comes out of his tent with a roll of toilet paper, but upon seeing the dinosaur lets out a scream that wakes the whole camp. The rex turns and bellows at him, trashing their camp all the while in a show of dominance. Soon, the whole group is running through the forest. Hammond is almost eaten by the thing if not for Tembo’s intervention.

Soon, however, the groups are separated from one another. Hammond slips down a river bank into a ravine, Peter just up and vanishes, and Sarah, Van Owen, Tembo, Burk, and Eddie run behind a waterfall with the rex in pursuit. The dinosaur, unable to follow, gives one last roar of anger and leaves. Out of all the people, however, Tembo looks the least scared. He looks…thrilled, actually.

Meanwhile, we cut away to Hammond. He rises (roughly) shaking away the delirium. He looks around, wondering where his party got off to. The T-Rex’s roar is heard in the distance. Better find the others, he thinks. He begins to follow the river; if the group has any sense, they’ll make a new camp on the water. But then he hears a noise and looks down. It’s a Compy.

We get a very similar scene to Dieter Stark’s (Peter Stormare’s) death in the movie (which was based off of John Hammond’s in the first book) with one or two caveats. First, we don’t cut away in the middle. We maintain the scene and the suspense as long as possible (with Compys popping out of the woodwork the more Hammond tries to get away from them). The second…

There was a sound of rifle fire. The Compys scattered and Hammond felt himself pulled up from the shallow water, finally able to breathe. “Tembo,” he coughed.

“If you have any more suicidal ideas,” said Tembo, “keep em to yourself.”

Cut back to Sarah’s group as Hammond and Tembo rejoin them.

“Has anyone seen Kelly?” Sarah asked, worried.

“I think I saw her run in the same direction as Ludlow,” said Tembo.

“Hopefully, they’ll be safe once they leave the Rex’s territory.” said Burke.

“Don’t bet on it,” said Sarah, “Tyrannosaurs have the second largest proportional olfactory cavity of any creature in the fossil record.” “What’s the first?” asked Eddie. “Turkey vulture,” said Burke, as casually as someone would talk about the weather.

“Any idea where we are?” asked Eddie, desperately trying the change the subject. “Somewhere west of the worker village, I think,” said Nick, examining a map of the island (one of the few they managed to salvage from the camp) “It’d be an easy hike there.” “Maybe that’s where Kelly and Peter are,” said Sarah, turning to Hammond. “Yes, but if they did go there, they’re in grave danger.” said Hammond. “Velociraptors,” said Burke, trying to be helpful.

“Danger or not, we need a radio,” said Tembo, “that buck tore the hell out of our camp and I don’t think we can contact the mainland with smoke signals.” “How do you know the T-Rex was male?” asked Sarah.

Before Tembo can answer, a different roar is heard. A helicopter passed overhead.

“I thought you said we had a few weeks before they started razing the island?” Sarah said. “We do,” Hammond replied, “I don’t know what that helicopter’s doing her.” “It was headed towards the worker village,” said Tembo, “so, if we want to see what’s what, I think that’s where we’re headed.”

Cut to a scene of the group walking through the forest at night. Finally, they reach a vantage point overlooking the worker village…and it’s anything but abandoned.

More than three dozen people, some of them armed, are walking over the compound. Chain link fence ran the perimeter of the camp, newer than the rest of the camp. Tents, vehicles, mobile generators, the works.

Dozens of dinosaurs sit in cages, all bearing the same logo

“It says InGen on the side of that truck!” Eddie said. Everyone turned to look at Hammond. “I had no idea about this,” said Hammond, “why would I ask anyone to come here?” “I think I know who we should ask,” said Nick, pointing down at the camp.

It’s Peter, down in the camp, talking with the armed guards.

“What’s he doing down there?” asked Sarah. “I think,” Hammond said, sadness in his voice, “I’ve made the same mistake twice.” “Anybody seen Tembo?” asked Eddie.

Indeed, Tembo has disappeared.

Cut to Kelly, hiding in one of the trailers. She’d managed to evade her captors, but for how long she can continue to do so is up to debate. Stealthily, she creeps out of the trailer and around the camp over to one of the cages. She undoes the latch. She moves on to the next cage. Rinse and repeat.

Cut to inside one of the tents, Peter and several other people, all InGen personnel, stand around a card table where plans labeled ‘Jurassic Park San Diego’ are lain out.

“San Diego?” One man (a high ranking InGen worker) asked. “it’s already famous for its animal attractions,” said Peter, gesturing to plans on the table, “San Diego zoo... Sea World... The San Diego Chargers.”

“I don’t think John Hammond would have approved of having these animals on the mainland.” An InGen executive said.

Peter frowned. “Well, Hammond’s not in charge anymore. I am.” He turned to another man, this one a hunter by the look of him. “How’s the hunting going?”

“We’ve got plenty of plant eaters,” the hunter said, “some eggs. no raptors though. And our man hasn’t brought in the T-Rex like he said he would.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “What makes you think people want to see a bunch of veggiesaurs and eggs! They’re gonna want a T-Rex!”

“We’re trying, sir!” the hunter says, “but we haven’t seen any raptors since we got here!”

Suddenly, a worker bursts into the tent “The baby’s gone!” he said.

Almost as suddenly, a Triceratops bursts into the tent, smashing into the table and scattering the group. The camp is in chaos! Dinosaurs are running amuck. Vehicles overturned, people tossed into the air. But this is the chance Hammond’s group has been waiting for. They make their way down to the village in the bedlam, and make it into the main building of the worker’s village. Eddie manages to contact the mainland, and things are looking up. But then, we hear an ungodly moan from behind a nearby door. Slowly, Burke heads towards the door, picking up a nearby screwdriver to use as a weapon. He jerks the door open to reveal…

“Kelly!” Sarah cried. Kelly sat inside a broom closet, in her arms a baby T-Rex.

“They just left him tied to a stick out there,” said Kelly, “and I think his leg is broken.”

Despite the limited materials, the group sets to work splinting the baby’s leg. It’s pretty much the same as in the movie. Until the sound of a rifle cocking is heard behind them.

“I’ll be taking that rex now, Dr. Harding,” Roland Tembo said. Tembo has been on Ludlow’s payroll since the beginning. He was never here to protect the group. He’s here to hunt the T-Rex. He was the one who staked the baby out, to attract it’s parents.

Outside, the cacophony has died down. The Dinosaurs have mainly been recaptured. Hammond’s group has been brought before Ludlow, who looks at them condescendingly. “You really thought you were still CEO when you got here, Uncle John? I bought you out the day you asked for my help. We’ll still use the footage you took for our attractions, don’t worry.” “So, you’re going to reopen Jurassic Park then, is that it? Despite my warnings?” “No, not reopen. We’re moving these animals to the mainland so we don’t have to fly out here every time there’s a problem. You put us six million dollars in debt every day since you started making dinosaurs. It’s time to see good on that investment you promised. And the board agrees with me.”

InGen Exec: it’s nothing personal John. Why have a dinosaur and not use it?

“These are animals,” Sarah said, “they deserve respect”

“They’ll have the best of care.”

“And what if they break out! What then?”

Cut to part of Hammond’s team (Hammond, Sarah, and Kelly) being shoved into a trailer with the door locked behind them. Sarah tries to force the door open, to no avail. Kelly runs around, trying to open the windows. Hammond just sits down, despondent at the betrayal of his own family.

Sarah (trying to yank the door open): come on! You stupid…

A familiar roar is heard. A car flips past the window.

“What is it?” Hammond asked, “What’s going on?”

Sarah: I think things just got complicated.

The buck T-Rex from earlier has tracked the them to the Worker village and crashes through the fence. Suddenly, another roar is heard from the other side of the camp. It’s the female Rex, and she’s even more pissed than the male.

“There’s two of them!?” Sarah asked, incredulous. “We spared no expense,” Hammond said.

The rexes wreck the trailer the rest of Hammond’s team is in. Nick, Eddie, and Burke make a break for it. The female Rex sees them and gives chase. She and her mate bare down on them and soon capture Eddie, each taking one end in their jaws and pulling him apart for a snack.

Afterward we get a faceoff between Roland Tembo and the male rex (one that would have been really cool in the movie but we didn’t get it).

Tembo wastes two shot gun blasts on the rex. Out of ammo, he switches to tranquilizers, which finally manage to bring the beast down. The other rex is soon felled after. Subdued in special harnasses, the rexes are air lifted by helicopters to a boat waiting of the coast of Isla Sorna. All in all, the bad guys’ mission is a success. Well, Tembo wouldn’t say so. If you’d told him a year ago he’d get to hunt not one but two T-Rexes he would have kissed whoever told him that square on the mouth. But in the end, it had been so stupidly simple to catch them he just feels crapped on. Didn’t even get a trophy.

“You know, I remember the people who've helped me, Roland. There's a job for you at the park in San Diego if you want it.” Roland turns him down.

Cut to a group of hunters patrolling the tall grass outside the worker village. Suddenly, one of them is pulled under. A hunter a few feet away looks in his direction. “Manolo?” he asks. Another nearby hunter is pulled out of view. The hunters are starting to get scared. “Look alive, people.” one of them says. We hear a familiar coughing sound.

A velociraptor jumps out of the grass and mangles one of the hunters. Soon, pandemonium ensues. The crafty raptors had been evading the InGen hunters, watching them, waiting for the right moment. And with two dinosaur attacks in a row and both rexes out of the picture, now was the time to strike! (And there are no tails sticking up out of the grass cartoonishly! Raptors are supposed to be dangerous, not goofy).

Back at the camp, Roland runs towards the danger while Peter climbs aboard one of the waiting helicopters. “Get me out of here!” he cries.

The raptors swarm the camp. Roland manages to kill a few, but not before they massacre most of the InGen workers there. Tembo even has to watch Burke die in front of him. We get a scene where Hammond’s group escapes their trailer, Kelly defeats a velociraptor with gymnastics and the group plus Tembo manages to get onboard a helicopter.

The rest of the movie follows the actual TLW movie pretty closely with a few differences. Namely, there’s more than one dinosaur rampaging through San Diego, Tembo is helping the remaining team route the dinos back to the ship, we acknowledge the fact that the car they picked in the movie was due to reasons of masculinity, and Peter suffers a nervous breakdown when the dinosaurs break out of the ship’s hold and allows himself to be eaten by the baby rex out of guilt.

Roland fires a tranquilizer shot at the buck rex before it can clear the door. When that’s done, Sarah asks him what he’s going to hunt next.

“I believe I've spent enough time in the company of death.” he said.

We cut to Kelly and Sarah asleep on the couch while a TV plays news coverage of the boat being returned to Isla Sorna with a statement from John Hammond (once again CEO of InGen).

His speech is pretty much the same, ending with “as someone once told me, life finds a way.”

The final shot of the film is the rex family, the stegosaurs, all the dinosaurs back on Isla Sorna. Content as the Jurassic Park credits theme plays in the background.

So, what did you think? Like it, hate it? As always, I welcome feedback and comments!

#Jurassic Park #The Lost World #the lost world: jurassic park #Jurassic Park 2 #Jurassic Park II #Steven Spielberg #Rewrite #Re-Write #Dinosaurs #My Writing #Well Sort of #Fix It Fic #Sarah Harding #Roland Tembo #John Hammond #Kelly Curtis #Nick Van Owen

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