#but then the next question would be if Nosy is still on that tree

[kiwiplaetzchen]

It was late at night, and the corridors of Hogwarts were eerily quiet, save for the occasional creak of old wood and the whisper of distant footsteps. Almost everyone had gone to bed, except for the occasional pair of students hidden in dark corners, seemingly engaged in some kind of mating ritual. Nosy, however, had no interest in flicking nonsense for tonight. No, the little Niffler had a far more important mission.

Navigating the colossal castle was no small feat for someone as small as Nosy. The towering walls and endless staircases presented a challenge even for a Niffler as brilliant as him. But determination was one of Nosy's greatest qualities - well, that and his impeccable taste in shiny objects and other things. Hours of searching through hallways, past common rooms, and even a quick sniff at the kitchens had finally paid off.

There it was, standing proud and majestic: The Christmas tree he had been searching for! The lights sparkled like stars, the ornaments gleamed like treasure, and Nosy's eyes shone just as brightly as the display before him.

The Niffler had overheard a juicy piece of gossip earlier, his sharp ears tuned in on a group of Prefects chatting lazily in the corner. Apparently, they couldn't be bothered to cast protection charms on all the Christmas trees this year. Tz tz. Lazy gits, Nosy thought, clicking his beak in disdain. They clearly had nothing on Mama William, whose attention to detail was unmatched. Still, what was a loss for them was undoubtedly a massive win for Nosy.

With a squeak of excitement, Nosy hopped towards the tree. It was beautiful! The twinkling lights! The shimmering ornaments! The GLITTER! THE LIGHTS!!! It was like a dream come true for the little menace. His heart raced as if it was trying to keep up with the dazzling twinkles.

Nosy paused for just a moment, standing on his hind legs to inspect a particularly large, golden ornament hanging from one of the lowest branches. With a gentle boop, his paw made contact, and it swung lightly on its hook. He let out a squeak of pure joy, giggling at the delightful wobble it made. He could touch it! This was it - this was the jackpot!!

The little Niffler took a step back, sizing up the towering tree in all its glory, before letting out a honk of pure, unbridled joy. This was his tree now. Without further hesitation, Nosy began climbing, his paws grabbing at the lower branches as his belly pouch greedily devoured ornaments of every shape and size. Sparkling stars, glittering baubles, tiny bells - all disappeared into his pouch, his tail wiggling with glee at every piece.

And the lights! Oh, the shiny lights! Nosy couldn't resist wrapping himself in the glowing strands, his fur glowing like a festive beacon in the dark. This was, without a doubt, the best-est day ever! Perched high in the tree, surrounded by all the treasures he'd claimed, Nosy let out a loud, victorious honk that echoed through the empty halls. The Christmas tree didn’t stand a chance.

[wannabepoeticischiya]

if I can stop one heart from breaking

[ 01 ] — the offer

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He existed in the morning dew, in the afternoon haze, within the illusions of twilight. He was there. In the silence of midnight, in the wake of dawn... he was there.

Hoshina Soushiro was everywhere... except right here. He existed in every corner of the cosmos-just not in the space beside her.

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f! reader genre: romance, angst wc: 46.5k status: completed art by: keumza on twitter

“Hoshina-dono, thank you for accepting.”

“Nonsense, Uehara-san! The union between our clans will open many opportunities for the future!”

Empty-eyed, the offering of the Uehara Clan stared far off into yonder: tired, hopeless, shackled by the thought that this would be nothing but a marriage of convenience—and it will. One that is fated to leave her on her death bed, reminiscing memories of unhappiness and regret, leaving in her wake a catastrophe of regrets; plagued by the thought of what it could have been—who she could have become—the life she could have been living… if only she had done things differently.

If only you did not come to me that day��

The Uehara heir was not ignorant; often being told that she was too intuitive for her own good—that her own self self-assurance would one day be her downfall.

So, when her father had called upon her that fateful day, she knew that the fate her family had set for her would soon begin, and she would—without question nor reluctance—obey what they wished.

Because that is what they expected of her.

… if only you had left me to this cruel fate.

As twilight faded and the canvas overhead was dyed with midnight, life echoed by the city stilled into silence within the grounds of the Hoshina estate. The late winter breeze rustled the undergrowth that littered the gardens, taking the blossoms of the cherry trees into a never-ending waltz towards the horizons of the sky. Moonlight flooded through the cracks left by the clouds, flowing like water over the cheerless hue painted upon the face of a girl still restless at this unearthly hour. Slender fingers trapping a handful of golden fabric in between their grip, soiling her once pristine kimono.

“Who are you?”

Without a single second to spare, the woman had crossed the distance separating her from the intruder—nothing but a knife to his throat standing in between them.

[Name] swore she could feel her heart itching to escape from its entrapment, her blood circulating far too fast for her head to catch up—her weapon, slowly but surely, crossing the gap to meet the flesh of the poor soul that had carelessly walked in on her, stopping only when the voice raised once more to put a halt to her intentions.

“Hey—Hey! Relax. I only asked who you were…”

Urgency rippled in the waters of her stomach, certainly not having expected such a warm tone to flow from the lips of the trespasser. The Uehara heir expected a nosy servant, or at the direst of situations—an assassin. A frightened protest or even a calm proclamation would’ve been the anticipated outcome, certainly not… whatever this is.

[Name]’s gaze lingered on her hands that threatened to take the life of the person before her, rising like fireworks on New Year’s Eve; painting the abyssal canvas overhead with their trails of fire, disappearing momentarily into the heavens, leaving silence in their wake—only for them to burst forth into multitudes of color. Illuminating the darkened sky even if it was for just a few moments.

And she felt the same.

[Name]’s kaleidoscope of colors exploded at the sight of him. Moonlight shaded his face in a warm hue, decorating the eyes that looked at her with a thousand glimmers, as though the stars nestled in the depths of the cosmos were made just so they could replicate the shimmer in his irises. Threads of violet covered the distance above his forehead, swaying with the gentle gale gifted by the season of autumn. Carved upon his lips was an anxious smile as he looked at the weapon pressing against his neck before trailing his gaze to the one holding it.

He did not hold it against the woman that the initial thought she had having discovered his existence was to take his life. How could he? When he had every intention to observe her undetected; failing shortly because he could not stop the foolish question from leaving his curious lips.

It wasn’t every day that a visitor stepped foot into the estate… much less a woman.

Wine-red irises reflected the eyes that glowered at him with such ferocity. Eyes that shone like fire in the darkened room, like they could cover him in warmth yet burn him if they so ever wished. Her hands that looked as though they did not work a single day in their life, smooth with no remnants of scars, but held a blade like they’d known the harsh territory of the enemy.

At the sight of her, he wondered… would they someday slip through his own? Would her fingers twine with his like vines should the threads of fate decide to weave the tapestry of her destiny into his? Would her gaze burn through him and send him to damnation? Or would they envelop him in mellowness for the rest of eternities to come?

“I should be the one asking you that—who are you?” A harsh tone shattered his reverie, dragging him back to reality where he stands with a blade being pressed further into his neck. It split his skin open, and flowers of crimson blossomed into waterfalls—far from the daydreams of his life in happily ever after.

“Did someone send you?” The woman coerced; for every step he took to get away from her blade, she took one equal step forward. And this would progress until he would find himself cornered with nothing but an answer deemed worthy by her as his decree for freedom.

“Mark my words, I will have your head before you even think of stepping foot outside this room.”

As someone from a clan whose prowess lies with the blade, he found it pathetic that he could not get the upper hand in this situation: here, in his own household, with a weapon that was supposed to be his claim to fame now being used to threaten to snuff out his life.

He knew he could overpower her in a single move, one small gesture would’ve been enough to turn the tables in on her. But he stood there, frozen. Like he could be everything, but he still chose not to be anything.

Because for a small moment, it felt like all the hardships and failures he endured to perfect his abilities… had faded into serenity. The tears he shed, his hands that bled for heaven knows how many times, the callouses—scars—wounds—everything… they all dwindled into a dull ache until they remained as nothing but a distant echo. All the hurt and the pain… stilled into silence. Like they didn’t matter… or that he simply had no use for them anymore.

Because when time came to a standstill—there was no Kaiju, no Defense Force, there was nothing to prove, and there was nothing to gain.

There existed only him and her.

In the infinite grandeur of the cosmos, of all the stars and galaxies to have ever formed, every rift in time, the universes he could’ve been born in—here, in this moment… he found her.

“Hey, calm down—” He tried to bargain, attempting to grab the knife from [Name]’s hold. Because despite feeling at ease, she still had a weapon, and he didn’t. But he soon found himself with the world trailing upside down at a rate he was not used to, his front colliding with the floor he stood upon not even a second ago, with just enough luck to not have bitten off his tongue in the process. A weight was dumped on his back, from both the woman and her ridiculously heavy clothing.

“Ack. Ow. Get off. You’re really heavy.” He wheezed, trying to push her off; finding that his limbs were being pressured by her kimono. Seriously, how many layers do those things have?

A rhythmic tune echoed within the four corners of the room, seemingly putting everything to a stop; fleetingly distracting the man submerged in the sea of fabric from his impending demise. The silence stretched on for what felt like forever, before a muffled voice spoke the words, “Uehara-sama? Are you alright? I heard something fall…”

The man underneath [Name] looked towards the door in hopeful glee, glad to have another path paved to liberty. But his sanguine daydream of salvation shattered as a spine-crawling breath rattled his body into full alert.

“Servants.” she whispered, her lips grazing just above the lobe of his ear, the contact sending pins and needles all the way to the tips of his toes. “Now you have nowhere to run. Speak of your intentions and I will give you a painless death.”

“I would—but you’re... you’re crushing my windpipe.” He tapped the floor in desperation; it was an action he saw his opponents would often do. Berating them for being over dramatic, or that they needed to work on their breath control if they lost it to something as measly as being sat on. Now, he was the one feeling the consequences of having his oxygen circulation cut short, and it wasn’t pleasant.

As a last resort for a chance of deliverance, he tried to yell to the other person behind the door, “Aoi—” only to have a cloth intercept his cries for aid.

“Shh.”

“Uehara-sama?” Aoi, or so he had called, remained behind the screens.

[Name] grabbed a fistful of what looked to be violet hair and raised his head to give him a clear view of the door, where the light from the hallway met the closed shoji screens, letting in enough luminescence to see the shadows of the two figures on the floor but dull enough not to be able to put a face to them. “You’re really asking to be killed.”

The head [Name] held by the hair shook in refusal, his vision blurring and clouding over, feeling his chest rise in an erratic manner as he tried to catch the breath he was losing, fast.

Lost in the fields of her thoughts, [Name] failed to hear the warning of the servant behind the door, nor was she quick enough to stop Aoi from sliding it open.

“I’m coming in, my lady—Hoshina-sama?” [Name] stared at the silhouette of the attendant standing by the threshold, startled by both her sudden appearance… and the name that flowed from her tongue.

Did she just say Hoshina?

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pls believe me when I say this was supposed to be a one shot... but someone went overboard someone is me.

[magnus-fierro]

FIRST TUMBLR POST WOOHOOO

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

CW: Identity crisis, terrible singing by a sword.

₊˚ෆ Identity

A fierrochase oneshot ₊˚ෆ

⋆⁺₊⋆ CHAPTER ☀︎ 1 ⋆⁺₊⋆

Alex’s head was buzzing. The thoughts were on loop. I’m not real. I’m not real. What am I? Am I even human? Why can’t i decide one form to be in? Do i even have a favorite color anymore? This had been happening for a while. Alex Fierro, the child of Loki, a shapeshifter, was questioning what he was.

Of course, he could ask for help. He had his boyfriend, Magnus. That absolute living sunshine of a man. But he didn’t want to seem weak, or vulnerable. Everyone saw Alex as the tough, stubborn, unwavering, sassy warrior of floor 19. He can’t be weak.

So he hid away from everyone. All his friends, his lover, even his sister Samirah. He screamed into pillows and sobbed into his sleeves, asking himself over and over, ‘Who am I? What am I? Why can’t i figure it out?!’, and hating himself every time. Normally, his meltdowns were quiet enough. But not today.

⋆⁺₊⋆ CHAPTER ☀︎ 2 ⋆⁺₊⋆

I was just taking a stroll with my magic sword—did i say magic? i meant magic, talking, TERRIBLY OFF KEY singing, sword. Named jack. Who flirted with Percy jackson’s sword. YES, YES WE ALL KNOW PERCY JACKSON BUT THIS ISNT ABOUT HIM. And of course, Alex had been acting like his blocked off, emotionally challenged self. It was so routine by then it’s not even funny.

But lately, it’d been worse. He didn’t even sleep in my room anymore, which was routine just as much as him changing to a her. And that was often. So, being my nosy self, I knocked on his door. And knocked. and knocked again. And again. That’s not normal. Normally he tells me to go away if i knock more than twice.

“Alex? Are you okay?” No response. “Alex?” No response. “I have food?” No response. That’s when i knew something was really wrong. Alex always opened the door for food. “Jack. Break the door.”

God i shouldn’t have told him to. I should’ve just grabbed him and broken it down myself. Why, you may ask? He started singing wrecking ball by Miley Cyrus. In a terrible a-minor that would make that one greek god mad. Annabeth told me about it. Good thing jack is a sword.

Once the door was broken down, jack skedaddled. Because of course he did. I looked around, but Alex wasn’t near her bed, at her pottery station, or climbing the tree in the middle of her room.

⋆⁺₊⋆ CHAPTER ☀︎ 3 ⋆⁺₊⋆

When i tell you i panicked so hard, i mean it. Because the second i realized Alex wasn’t in the main part of her room, i heard crying and mumbling from the bathroom. Loki must be messing with her, I thought. Trying to drive her insane. I won’t let that happen. So, in true Einerjar fashion, I broke the handle off the door.

But i saw something i never would’ve expected. Alex was genuinely breaking down. And the mumbling? She was asking herself a question most Einerjar don’t bother with anymore. “What am i? what am i? what am i? what am i?”

My first instinct was to power of Frey it, but i don’t think that works on identity crisis’. So, i did the next best thing. I sat down on the ground with Alex and pulled her close. “Alex. Breathe. Try to breathe, okay?” I think i snapped her out of it just enough to stop hyperventilating, because her breathing slowed. She was still mumbling, but she was at least a bit steadier.

“I don’t know what i am..” she said softly. I could barely hear her. “M-Maggy..what am I..? Was i ever really human..?”

I took her face in my hands, her face cold from being covered in tears. “You, Alex Fierro, are the most kickass, amazing, strong, independent, intelligent, gorgeous being in the nine worlds.” I kissed her head gently, intertwining my fingers with hers. “And no matter what form you take, you’re mine, and I love you.”

She smiled and squeezed my hand. “You are such a dork, beantown.” she said in a cracked but happier voice. “I’m staying in your room tonight, Mainly because you and your sword broke my doors.”

“Fine by me, beautiful”

short as Lokis leash with the gods but you know

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

FIN

[masterjedilenawrites]

Clone Force Omega story prompt: Omega gets a boyfriend or girlfriend and her little brothers suddenly become very protective of her and live up to their nickname "the Bad Batch".

Clone Force Omega: Part 3

Love this prompt! Gave me just the boost of motivation I needed to keep going with the AU.

Now, this chapter won't quite get to the boyfriend/girlfriend part, but you'll see how I'm setting it up. I also decided that Omega wouldn't go to the Lawquane's right away like Hunter had in the show. I'm not cutting their part out of the AU completely, just reordering things a bit.

< Last Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part >

Omega & The Bad Batch | 4.2k words

Content: Canon-typical violence/fighting/peril, some flirty banter,

The one blessing of having four young kids to look out for, was never having a moment quiet enough to think about the demons you were running from.

Omega recognized this blessing immediately, knowing if she had been alone on this ship, she'd likely have started falling apart by now. The Republic was gone, changed into something cold and ugly. Her life as a lone soldier was done, her sense of purpose and identity now floating nebulous in the wind like the smoky remnants of a fire. And Echo...

"Omega, what does this do?" a little voice called out, just before bunks started sliding out of the wall with a harsh grating sound, revealing that they'd clearly never been used in all the time the ship had been in commission.

She was about to scold Tech for being nosy, knowing there were worse buttons to push without knowing what they'd do first, but then decided the bunk beds gave an opportunity to redirect their attentions.

"Oh good, just in time for bed," she said with feigned cheer.

There was a chorus of whines from around the ship. None of them thought they'd still have a bedtime while on an adventure. How lame.

But in spite of the protests, she still managed to get them to comply with the promise that sleep would make them even stronger and smarter than they already were. And they'd need a lot of strength and brain power if they were going to visit their first planet outside of Kamino.

"What's it going to be like?" Hunter asked eagerly as she tucked each of them in. "Are there going to be trees?"

"Ooh, what about mountains?" asked Wrecker with an equally excited lilt to his voice. "Or volcanoes?"

"I want to see a bird," chimed in Tech. "I read that sometimes they are really small, and sometimes they are really big."

"Go to sleep," Omega repeated, crossing over to the other set of bunks. "You'll see soon enough."

She finished her round of tuck-ins with Crosshair, who was usually the quietest of the bunch, but Omega knew that didn't always mean he had nothing to say. She leaned in close as she pulled the blanket up to his chin.

"What do you want to see?" she whispered so the others wouldn't hear her special treatment. She wasn't sure why she had such a soft spot for the little grump; he really could be a brat sometimes. But truthfully, she could be one, too. Maybe that was why.

Crosshair blinked up at her with eyes she knew had been enhanced even more than hers had. There'd be a lot for those eyes to take in, wherever they ended up going. But his response didn't answer her question.

"What's going to happen to us?" he asked, also, thankfully, in a whisper.

She could already hear Wrecker snoring behind them. Hunter was the only one who could probably hear at this point. She'd have to choose her words carefully so neither would panic.

"I don't know," she decided to go with the truth. A simple version of it, anyway. "But I promise, no matter what happens, I will take care of you. We're family. We stick together."

That seemed to satisfy Crosshair, at least enough for him to close his eyes when she repeated the instruction to go to sleep.

Omega returned to the cockpit and sat down in her seat heavily. A stray wisp of hair tickled her cheek so she started undoing her braid, running her fingers through her curls as they bounced free. Every pass of her hand from her scalp the ends of her hair, a new troublesome thought seemed to enter her mind. What was going to happen to them? Where were they even going? What was this new Empire really all about? How could Echo have...

She stopped that thought as a sudden lump pushed its way in her throat. She knew she couldn't explain Echo's behavior, just as she couldn't answer any of those other pesky questions. Not without all the facts. The logical side of her brain, a trait she shared with Tech, insisted she investigate before coming to any wild conclusions.

So she swept her unruly hair behind her shoulder and leaned forward in her seat, tapping around on the holomap and doing some quick mental-calculations. She didn't know where to get information, but she knew someone who might. Unfortunately, the Empire's crews hadn't refueled her ship, or even restocked on rations, since she'd returned from her last mission. She could picture the stomachs of four growing boys growling as soon as they woke up, and knew that wouldn't do. And all that was in addition to the fact that it wouldn't take long for the ship's signature to be put on a wanted list, if it hadn't been already.

They'd need to make a supply run first. And get the ship's code scrambled before it drew unwanted attention. Omega swiped at the map and saw Pantora was the closest planet. That would have to do.

* * *

Omega had once dreamed about taking the boys off Kamino. Just for a day. Most clones, including herself, had to wait until they were fully grown and fully trained before they were mobilized off planet for the first time. Occasionally groups of young cadets were taken on field trips, but it was almost always within the confines of a spacecraft, never on ground. Omega wanted different for her brothers. They were special, a secret project. Why shouldn't they be given special privileges as well?

She would've taken them somewhere warm, green, and full of wildlife. Somewhere like Naboo or Alderaan. She'd let them run around in nature, feel the tactile sensations of dirt beneath their toes and sunshine on their faces. They could climb a tree that wasn't holographic, swim in water what wasn't dark and cold, run as fast and as long as they wanted without the danger of reaching the end of a platform. For one day, they could just be kids.

Pantora certainly had its fair share of luscious landscapes that would've suited such a day perfectly. Unfortunately, there were no supplies out in the Pantoran wilderness. So the boys' first experience stepping foot on another planet was within a city. And though she kept it to herself, Omega was not happy about it.

Cities were not her thing. Too many people, too many dark alleyways. It was difficult enough to process the amount of sensory input and keep watch of her own back, but now she'd have to do it with four young boys in tow. And not only that, but there was simply too much to do in such a short time frame. What a nightmare.

"Tech, have you ever had to scramble a ship's signature before?" she asked, already knowing the answer but needing to humor her need for hope anyway.

"No, but I know how to look up ships by their signatures when looking through the archives!" he grinned, very proud of himself despite the fact that was not the same thing. Not even close.

The Marauder had just touched down but she held back on lowering the ramp for a few minutes while she chewed on her lip in thought. She hated the idea of splitting them up but she couldn't see any way around it. Not unless they had the luxury of staying here all week, which they most certainly did not.

"Okay, here's the plan," she finally said, spinning around.

"Is this a mission plan?" asked Hunter as they crowded around her in a surprising show of obedience.

"Yep. Our first mission. You boys ready?"

They all nodded eagerly. If this was the only way to keep their attentions, so be it.

"Tech, you're going to stay with the ship and scramble it. I'll be talking you through everything on comms. Don't do anything until I give you the instruction. Copy?"

"Copy that," Tech nodded and pushed up his goggles.

"Wrecker, you're also going to stay and keep watch. If anyone comes poking around asking questions, let them know your parents are exchanging credits and will be back soon."

"Parents?" Wrecker's nose scrunched in confusion.

"Yes, it's a cover story."

"Ohh," he said, still looking confused.

Omega decided to not waste time trying to explain more. She also wasn't going to tell him that she thought he was the best chance at defending himself and Tech should, gods-forbid, anyone try to harm or capture them.

"Hunter, Crosshair, you two are going to follow me into town for supplies. You're going to keep an eye on things and let me know if you sense any danger."

Both boys gave nods and salutes of their own. 

Omega breathed deeply through her nose. "Okay. That's the plan. Let's go."

Thankfully the boys had already been wearing fairly casual clothes, though she'd had to carefully rip off the old Republic logos from the sleeves while they'd slept. She had been in her blacks upon leaving, but she always kept a spare change of civvy clothes on board for her undercover missions, so she'd changed into those earlier as well. After quickly buying off the shipyard foreman to not ask questions for the next half cycle, they set off on their respective tasks.

"Okay, Tech, you're going to start by locating the rear parallax inverters..." she began listing off instructions into the comms link as soon as they hit the main street of the city.

Walking Tech through the procedure, looking for market stalls with deals on rations and fuel, keeping an eye on two boys who were in awe at every little thing around them, and steering clear of the parade of Imperial soldiers marching about proved to be quite the challenge. Though one of Omega's strong suits was multitasking, she still had her hands full.

"Crosshair, keep up!" she shouted back at the boy, who had stopped to pet a friendly Tooka on the side of the road.

"Why is everyone cheering?" Hunter asked, tugging at her sleeve for an answer to the dozenth question he'd asked in the past two minutes.

"End of the war," Omega quickly responded before pressing the button on the comm link and answered a different question from a different brother. "Yes, Tech, the one with the blinking light. Have Wrecker help you pull it out. Gently."

She then turned into a stall and saddled up to the counter, plopping an old pyro denton grenade between her and the merchant. "I'd like to do a trade."

She spent the next ten minutes continuing to bounce between the various demands for her attention, haggling with the merchant, walking Tech through the complicated procedure of rewiring the key, making sure Wrecker was being useful by putting all the other parts back into the ship. But at some point, she'd decided Hunter and Crosshair didn't need as much of her focus as they both amused themselves playing with the lost Tooka. It wasn't until she'd finally sold the merchant on the value of her grenade did she then turn around and notice they were gone.

"Hunter? Cross?" she called out, rushing to the street and looking both ways.

"They went that way," the merchant told her, pointing toward her left. "Chased that poor creature away."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?!"

Omega was more frustrated than frantic. She half-walked, half-jogged down the road, careful to look down alleys and within stalls, just in case her brothers were hiding there.

She paused at an intersection, glancing at the three options before her for only a second each. Somehow, she felt that she had to go down the one on the right. Her instincts never steered her wrong.

No sooner had she turned the corner did Crosshair come rushing up to her. She was relieved, but fully prepared to start scolding the boy for running off in a strange place like that. But the panic in Crosshair's eyes stopped her.

"Where's Hunter?" she asked instead.

Crosshair pointed down the road. "There's this lady. She said she'd help us find you but took us the wrong way. Hunter wouldn't listen to me."

Omega started running, making sure Cross was just a step behind her. Soon the road twisted and she saw a little head of messy brown hair through the crowd ahead.

"Hunter!" she called out. The little boy stopped and turned with a big grin on his face. He was holding some kind of fruit.

"There she is!" he said to the person standing next to him. "That's my sister, Omega!"

Sure enough, someone was accompanying him, though Omega could see right away that she was less of a lady and more like a bounty hunter.

"Hunter, get over here right now," Omega barked. She could hear the garbled voice of Tech coming from the comm link in her hand, asking for his next instructions, but she shoved it into her pocket. She kept her hand hovering by her hip, where her trusty blaster hung at the ready.

"It's okay, Omega," Hunter called back, taking a bite out of the fruit he held. "She was helping us look for you."

Crosshair clutched at the back of Omega's shirt and shook his head at his brother. At least one of them had a healthy sense of stranger danger, Omega thought.

"Yes, Hunter and I were getting to know each other," the girl said. Her tone was friendly enough, but Omega could see the threat in her eyes. They looked even more dangerous as soon as the girl put her helmet on, big brown eyes that squinted confidently through a slat in the helmet. Omega now wished she'd brought her own, but it would've drawn too much unwanted attention.

Instead, Omega crouched with her hand now resting firmly on the hilt of her blaster. Her opponent did the same. A good old fashioned stand off that would've been a lot more fun had Hunter not been in between them.

"Cowering behind a kid, very brave," she called to the girl, hoping some banter might buy her some time to get a plan together.

"What can I say," the girl responded, "I'm an opportunist."

That drew Hunter's attention to what was really going on. Now his eyes were as wide and scared as Crosshair's had been.

"Omega?" he whined as he dropped his fruit.

"How much is the bounty?" Omega spoke over him and asked the girl.

"More than you can afford to buy me out of."

"Maybe I have something worth more than credits to you."

The girl laughed. "A defective clone on the run from the Empire? With four little boys hanging on her back? That practically pays for my retirement. There's nothing I want more."

"Pft, retirement's overrated," Omega egged on. "You'd get bored. Hitch a ride with me, though, and I'll show you the adventure of a lifetime."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were flirting with me."

"Well... Is it working?"

"Hmm, not really."

The girl didn't give Omega a chance to come up with any further quips. She whipped out her blaster and started firing, giving Omega no choice but to duck for cover. Crosshair jumped with her, though somehow he had pulled out one of her vibroblades from behind her back.

"Hey, let's switch," she said, pulling out her blaster to give to the boy and taking the blade instead. "I have an idea."

Meanwhile, Hunter had thrown himself at the girl, trying to wrestle the blaster out of her hands. Omega scowled as she looked around the crate they'd hidden behind to see him so brazenly fight a bounty hunter ten times as skilled. Once they got out of this mess and away from Pantora, she'd have to find some time to train the boys on safer tactics.

Even so, she didn't immediately rush out. Hunter was distracting the girl's attention just enough for Omega to slip behind a different crate that was a little closer. She motioned for Crosshair to stay where he was. And then, as soon as the girl had twisted around in an attempt to push Hunter to the ground, Omega jumped out and hurled the vibroblade.

The girl was too fast. She grabbed at a wicker basket lid from a nearby stall and used it as a shield. The blade lodged itself in it.

Omega was a little faster. She rushed out from the crate while the blade had still been circling in the air. The girl flipped the lid around to try and dislodge the blade, but Omega was already upon her, shoving her knee right into the girl's abdomen.

"Hunter, run!" Omega barked as she tried to wrestle the lid away. She didn't look to see if the boy listened, putting all her might into the hand-to-hand combat she was now locked in with this bounty hunter.

"You fight dirty, clone," the girl gritted through her teeth, parrying one of Omega's punches with the but of her blaster.

Omega let go of the lid so she could roundhouse kick the blaster out of the girl's hands. It went clattering down the street, causing several people to shriek as they realized a serious fight was breaking loose. Great. No doubt those Imperial soldiers would soon be showing up.

The girl didn't mourn the loss of her blaster, instead taking advantage of the blade having fallen out of the lid as Omega dropped it. She somersaulted over the thing, grasping the hilt and kicking out at Omega's legs in one smooth swoop. Omega would've been impressed had she not had the wind knocked out of her.

Then the bounty hunter was on top of her, the hum of the vibroblade reaching Omega's ears before the blade itself got too close. She gasped for air as she threw up her wrists, criss-crossing them underneath the girl's hand and pushing back. The girl's other hand came around and grasped at Omega's throat.

"Hell of a way to flirt back," Omega rasped, still pushing with all her might to get the blade away from her face.

Surprisingly, the bounty hunter grinned. Or at least, Omega assumed she did, given the wrinkles around her eyes.

"Honey, these aren't even my best moves."

Sudden blaster fire came from above, clipping the bounty hunter in the shoulder. She cried out and jerked back just enough for Omega to grab the blade and pull. A sharp, electrical pain radiated up to her elbow as the thing pierced through her palm, but she didn't care. She kicked upward, making contact with the girl's rear end and sending her sprawling.

"Omega!" Hunter called out to her. Crosshair was next to him holding a smoking blaster in shaky hands.

Omega flipped herself onto her feet and immediately started sprinting before the bounty hunter could recover herself. Hunter and Crosshair followed, running as fast as their little legs could carry them.

Blaster fire followed as well. The bounty hunter had found her gun again. They kept running.

"Citizens! Halt!" A few of the local police had arrived at the scene, but Omega and her brothers went barreling past them.

She turned them down an alleyway to escape both of the threats that were now close behind. Her mind was frantic, unsure how they could make it back to the ship before someone caught up to them. Even if they managed to get off planet, they were still screwed. With little fuel and a bounty on their heads, they were essentially trapped.

"Omega!"

The voice that called her faint and distorted, so much so she almost didn't hear it over her racing heartbeat. She turned back to see Hunter and Crosshair were keeping pace, but neither looked like they had been trying to say anything.

"Omega!" it came again. And then she remembered the comm link in her pocket.

"Tech!" she huffed into the mic. "Get the ship running, now!"

"I already did!" he responded proudly. "You left the comm on and we heard shooting. We're coming to your rescue!"

Omega stopped running at the end of the alley, peering out to see people milling about with no clue of the chaos she brought with her. Hunter and Crosshair pulled up next to her, huffing and puffing.

She brought a hand to her temple and tried to think. Tech couldn't fly a ship, no matter how badly he believed he could. But, if she could talk him through the basics like she had with the signature key, and if her and the boys could find higher ground, they just may have a shot at escape.

"Tech," she whispered into the comm link. "There's a satellite tower just north of the docking bay. You're going to pick us up at the top. Now, listen very carefully. You're only going to push the buttons I tell you to."

"And what do I do?" came Wrecker's voice.

"Help him navigate."

Omega silently motioned for Hunter and Cross to follow her lead again. As calmly but as quickly as possible, they went out into the street and hurried down the lane toward the satellite tower, and all the while Omega talked Tech through the controls of the ship. She heard some concerning sounds in return, both through the comm feed as well as out in the real world. The bay was close enough to their current location that ever scrape of the ship's wings against the walls let out a harsh shriek into the surrounding area. Omega tried not to cringe.

They reached the tower and she sent the boys up the ladder first. There was no time for a pep talk, but they seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation and started climbing without a fuss. If Wrecker had been here instead, different story.

"Leaving so soon?"

The bounty hunter's voice rang out across the street from behind her. Omega looked over her shoulder, her foot resting on the first rung of the ladder.

"Just when we were getting to know each other," the girl sauntered forward. The police, or any Imperials, didn't seem to have made it yet. But Omega could sense they weren't far behind.

"The offer still stands," Omega called back, looking up briefly to see her brothers were making good progress on the ladder. "I can give you more than the Empire ever could."

She was trying to be cheeky, buy some time for Tech to get off the ground. But in a strange way, she also meant it. The future was so uncertain, it was appealing to think there could be one person out there that didn't want to kill them.

"Oh, I'm not working for the Empire," the girl responded.

Omega didn't have time to process that odd statement. The police had just rounded the corner behind the bounty hunter, and Tech had just breached the top of the landing bay wall.

Omega jumped and caught the tenth rung on the ladder and began climbing from there. There were a few blaster shots that ricocheted off the side of the tower, but the police quickly converged on the bounty hunter and put a stop to it. Omega quickly caught up to the boys, who were just reaching the top platform. She all but pushed them onto it.

"Alright Tech, nice and easy," she encouraged the young boy to move the ship forward. "The button above the thrusters lowers the ramp."

The side of the ship opened up and the ramp promptly slid out from there. Omega jumped as soon as it was close enough, and then turned to reach a hand out to the others.

Whatever confidence they'd had before was gone. Hunter looked down the gap between the platform and the ramp and Crosshair bit his lip nervously.

"It's okay, boys. You're so brave. You got this. I've got you."

Hunter swallowed and nodded his head. He was the first to try the jump. He flung his little body onto the ramp and Omega caught him square on. Seeing it was possible, Crosshair soon followed.

Omega shooed Tech out of the pilot's seat, giving him just a small high-five before she narrowed in on the task at hand. As the Marauder zipped out of the Pantoran city and back toward the darkness of space, everyone stayed silent. Today had been a lot. Too much, probably.

Omega wanted so desperately to cry, a feeling she hadn't ever been eager to indulge in. The reality of their situation was settling in deeper and deeper with each passing moment. Try as she might, she could not guarantee the safety of these boys, not with everyone in the galaxy out to get them. And for what? Why? This target on their heads was strange given the other matters the Empire seemed to need to focus on. And that bounty hunter had said she wasn't even working for the Empire. Who else could be looking for them?

She shook her head and sent them back into hyperspace. She knew where she needed to go. Looking for answers was tempting, but no longer the priority. She needed to get the boys to safety, first.

Clone Force Omega Tag: @kaijusplotch, @flowered-bicycles

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[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 23

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 22 🍂 Part 24

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: Lots and LOTS of names. (The family tree isn't quite finished yet, but if anyone needs it to keep track of this... I'll post it XD)

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: 21 days. That's three whole weeks. I'm so sorry! I've been trying to get ahead on this thing for a bit, it didn't quite work out. I just wasn't in a Sy mood for some reason. But! Here we are again, with another fluffish chapter. @keanureevesisbae hold on to your ovaries, there will be Sy holding babies. (Do I owe up to 30 or 31 now?)

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @beck07990 @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn

A few quick observations: Sy’s family? Very big. And as you would expect from a big family; the noise was absolutely overwhelming. Dean appeared next to you out of nowhere, grabbing you by the shoulders and dragging you into a corner.

“Let Jules handle this part, just…” He looked around for a moment, which was a lot easier for him than it was for you, and called Sy over.

“There y’are, Sugar,” he said. “Thought I’d lost ya!”

“You did lose me,” you growled. Sy’s family consisted of a fair amount of big men – not that Sy was by any means the runt of the family; quite the contrary, in fact – and a far larger amount of less-than-tall-but-still-taller-than-you women. And kids. So, so many kids. Some of which, you noticed, were also taller than you.

“Let me introduce you to my family,” Sy said. To your surprise – though it didn’t surprise you as much as it maybe should have – he went out to look for his parents, first.

“Mom, dad,” Sy said when he’d found them in the crowd, “I’d like you to meet Lara, my girlfriend.” As soon as he said it, the living room went much more quiet, and the entire atmosphere turned much more uncomfortable.

“Alright, y’all absolutely sure y’all wanna get nosy?” It didn’t sound friendly, but everyone went off minding their own business, so that was good.

“Sy!” Either his mother didn’t appreciate her son’s direct approach, or something else was off. “Why is this the first time we’re hearin’ of any girlfriend?” Instead of offering a defense to his mother, Sy just looked at his dad.

“He may have said somethin’bout it to me,” Sy’s father growled to no one in particular before turning to Sy, “but it’s yer own fault for not tellin’ your mother directly.”

“It’s been busy,” Sy said softly. There clearly wasn’t a good way for him to navigate himself out of this conversation.

“Too busy to call your own mother? Good Lord, what did I do to deserve this?”

“Betty-Jo and John-Bob Syverson,” Sy chuckled at you as his mother made a few dramatic hand gestures before slapping Sy in the shoulder with her purse a few times.

“Now probably ain’t the best time to ask why your furniture is in her living room, right, Sy?” A younger man who looked like he was one of Sy’s brothers threw an arm around Sy’s shoulders and grinned so wide that you were almost scared his face would tear in half. Sy looked like he was about to commit murder, but so did Sy’s mom – and you had to admit she was much scarier – and very quick to put two and two together.

“Are the two o’ya livin’ together?” It was funny to hear that her drawl got more pronounced when she got mad, just like Sy’s…

“Ma, don’t get m-“

“It’s a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question, son.” There was absolutely no arguing with this woman.

“Yes.”

“Jonathan George Syverson, I raised you better than to go around livin’ with women you ain’t got no intention of marryin’!”

“One second, Ma,” Sy said with a grin before turning to you. “Sugar, did I or did I not tell you that that was exactly what she’d have to say about that?” He paid for the choice to interrupt the conversation with a very firm smack in the back of his head from his father.

“Don’t you think for a second that I’m in any way thrilled about this situation, son.”

“Nothin’ to do with you, sweetheart, you seem like a very nice girl,” his mother said to you in the nicest voice before scowling at her son again. “But you should know better. Sweet lord Jesus, what did I do wrong? You try to raise ‘em right, ‘n this is what you get…”

“You raised him just fine, Ma’am,” you said before slamming your mouth shut again. Why were you getting in the middle of this? You should definitely stay out of this. It was a good thing Sy smiled when you looked up at him, and he pulled you closer.

“I don’t think you gotta worry about his intentions to marry her, Ma,” his brother said as he looked at Sy’s face. His expression said everything – which seemed to calm his mother down at least a little. You talked to them for a moment before they walked away to say hello to Julie’s parents.

“This is Georgie,” Sy said after they were out of earshot, “the youngest of the twins, who’s apparently made it his life’s mission to try’n get me killed. What the fuck was that, you bastard?”

“Revenge,” Georgie replied, “For ratting me ‘n Angelina Jefferson out.”

“That was senior prom! You held onto that for nearly ten years? God damn!” He shook his head in disbelief until George was joined by a woman holding a kid. “Anyway, this is his wife, Emma. And that’s Mikey, their youngest. The eldest is Helena Marie, she’s off somewhere, I reckon.” Mikey reached for Sy, who took him from his mom. Something about seeing Sy with a kid on his arm made you melt. Apparently, George saw the way you looked at his brother.

“Looks good on him, doesn’t it?” he said with a big smirk. There was absolutely no denying that he was right. From the corner of your eye, you saw Jules, who had been handed what no doubt was the youngest kid of Pat’s sister.

“Shut up,” Sy snapped back at Georgie, “stop tryin’ to make her uncomfortable.”

“He’s right, though. It does suit you,” you said – again, without thinking about it. What was wrong with you? “Anyway, we’re not done with introductions, are we?”

“Not even close,” Sy answered before he started laughing.

“Uncle Sy!” you suddenly heard from behind, and a boy – you guessed he was 12 or so years old – appeared next to you. “New girlfriend?”

“Hey, Wes! Yeah,” Sy replied, “this is Lara.”

“Lara, or Aunt Lara?”

“Depends on whether you want to live to see another day, mister,” someone else replied to that question from somewhere behind you. You raised your eyebrows at Sy, who pointed out the next person for you to be introduced to: his sister-in-law Nora-Beth, who was married to the eldest of the twins, Ricky. According to Sy, they had one kid – so far: John-Luke.

“Aunt it is!” the teen in front of you said with the same big grin on his face that Sy usually had. He introduced himself as Wesley and disappeared again.

“Wes is my sister Mary Beth’s eldest,” Sy explained, and he pointed his sister out in the crowd, along with her husband Bill. “The other four are Gray, Will and Kenny, and there’s Lainey, the one she’s holding.”

“God, five kids?” You remembered that Sy had told you that Mary Beth was twenty-nine years old. “In nine years?” That was a tight fit, timewise.

“In thirteen years,” Sy said, “she had Wes when she was sixteen. Don’t bring it up with Ma around, she’s still not over it completely. It was Nana who knocked some sense into her, actually.” That was unexpected, because Sy had described his grandma as extremely religious and very… proper.

“She wasn’t thrilled,” Mary Beth had apparently heard your conversation, and was now standing next to Sy, “but she figured we’d have to make the best of a bad situation. Before you think the worst; my higschool boyfriend knocked me up and then took off. Bad enough, but not as bad as it could’ve been.”

“Oh, sweetie,” she said when she saw your face, “It’s okay if you don’t know what to say! You look scared to death, sweetheart, are you alright?”

“Just not used to all this big family… stuff,” you admitted softly as you looked around the room to all the faces of people you hadn’t been introduced to yet. You were already dizzy, how the hell were you going to survive this?

“Sy, what were you thinkin’, dumpin’ a sweet girl like her in the middle of this like it ain’t nothin’!” Another voice you didn’t recognize, but that problem solved itself. “Anna-Belle, nice to meet you! This is my husband, Lewis.” She pointed to the man next to her before giving you a hug. At least there seemed to be no kids attached to this pair, that was a nice break from everything that was going on. Unfortunately for you, the next unfamiliar face was already approaching for introductions. This time, it was Darlene Louise, Sy’s youngest siter, with her husband, Jonathan. You were beginning to gain some first-hand experience with the reason Sy went by Sy. Darlene Louise – who insisted she shouldn’t be called Darlene – and John – who insisted he shouldn’t be called Jonathan – had two kids: Jenna-Lynn and Vicky-Lee.

“Lara? Lara!” Now that voice you’d recognize everywhere: it was Jules. “God, there you are. You’re damn near invisible in here, I thought you were one of the kids. Come meet my parents!” She pulled you along to the far side of the living room.

“Mom, dad, this is Lara, my Dutch friend I’ve been telling you about for years!”

At least you recognized Debbie and Tim McGregor from pictures, and apparently they recognized you, too. Her mother hugged you, her father shook your hands, and they both repeated the phrase ‘nice to meet you’ half a dozen times before asking you all kinds of questions about yourself you felt you’d already answered seventy-two times this afternoon, even though you’d hardly spend any time talking to anyone, because Sy kept throwing names in your direction. After Julie’s’parents, you were introduced to Mary-Kate and Patrick Dawson – Pat’s parents – and Sy’s uncle Charlie and his husband Raymond. You managed to escapte to the kitchen before anyone else could get to you.

“Sugar? Are you hidin’?” Sy wrapped his arms around you more carefully than he usually would have. “I know it’s a lot, are you alright?”

“Exhausted,” you said, “and nauseous.”

“Do you want to lie down for a minute?” His offer came just a tiny bit too late, because Jules called everyone back into the living room for some sort of announcement, or whatever, and you had no choice but to follow Sy, who luckily stayed close to you.

[lgcjino]

RE: JINO 'I SWEAR I WON'T GET INTO A SCANDAL' MOON — a black banquet reflection

setbacks are normal. 

being flexible under such uncertain conditions was also a notable skill an actor should have.

jino is flexible, but at his core — he’s quite confused. at the bottom of the totem pole, he is, question marks blaring in otherwise bewildered eyes when he’s told that they will be facing delays and a reconfiguration of schedules and scenes that needed to be re-shot.

while jino is not a core member of the film, he is but a cog in the machine — one of the many who are struck by the suddenness of change and the waste of time, resources and talent that will ultimately suffer from the selfishness of one person. jino should be upset — he should be — but that doesn’t stop jino from pulling hyunsoo to the side and asking him just why this was all happening: because jino was just that nosy.

with a better understanding of the situation, jino leaves the set on the day of retakes, not upset, but tired. finally feeling the fatigue of long nights and prolonged schedules taking its toll on him. 

when he had thought that his endurance had been something to applaud — here it is, showing him that his endurance was as weak as a brittle tree branch. feeling its affects after a long day as he falls to his bed without even washing his face or fixing himself a quick dinner — one of two things he had said this year he was going to be better at. 

“for my first project, honestly, it was kind of an experience. i don’t want to say it was good or bad — because it wasn’t anything like that. i’ve never really been on a filming set of this magnitude,” or of any magnitude at all, outside of the variety shows he’s been in. and those were far different than this by a feat. “so, to see everyone’s hard work get trashed was kind of upsetting. a lot of time and effort went into filming and i don’t want to say harsh things about her — since i don’t know the actress well nor do i know the situation as firsthand as she does — so it’s not really my place to say anything about that. it just sucks that a lot of time was wasted, but it’s okay — that’s what the reshoots were for, right? to make up for all that.”

he tries to be optimist, as a non-bystander bystander. because even though he wasn’t one of the main roles, their manager had asked them what his thoughts were and jino was always one to be honest, first and foremost. 

“if i was in a scandal like that?” he nearly spits out a laugh in disbelief — not that he can imagine himself in such a scandal, he can, but he thinks its far too early before anyone would be paying that much attention on him. “i guess i’d lay low — there’s no use fighting the fire. especially with netizen culture these days, they just jump onto any new thing and it goes crazy. like i said — fighting fire is just useless, that’s how you get burned.”

jino’s never been burned before, and  he hopes that he never will.

( but knowing himself — it was probably wise to devise a plan in advance for any mishaps  )

��would saying being an honest to you be a cop-out answer?” he laughs, trying to lighten the mood. the seriousness of the conversation prickling his skin in a way that he isn’t quite used to — especially not when he had just gotten used to having a manager. “i’m not sure how you’d avoid a scandal, especially not when you don’t really know just what could be scandalizing. society nowadays can be an enigma, y’know — never really know what’ll get them talking next. but for now, i want to promise you that i will never get in a scandal ....” then he quickly adds, "that you won't know beforehand."

oh, how optimistic — how naive; oh, how much you still need to learn moon jino. 

[rabidwerewolfie]

"Why do you need to get a large group of people together? Answer you don't"

Because it's what people do. A small group or family can probably do fine, but humans are herd animals and like to socialize. Also "there's safety in numbers" is a natural instinct. So unless you practice some form of isolation, you're going to get a mass of people together.

"The first thing they do actually is build a home and figure out how to be sustained and profit from the land"

I know reality TV is NOT reality, but it's the most convenient example I can think of at this moment. SO!! On shows like Survivor or Naked And Fearless, you throw strangers together. The first thing they do is figure out who is in charge, even if it's only for the moment, THEN they work on shelter.

It's not always democratic, either, sometimes it's just the first person to speak up and go "Ok, so here's what we need to do." Hell, I've even seen it in my own neighborhood. We have a neighborhood association, not QUITE a HOA but something along those lines. When something needs to be done, whether it's clearing trees after a hurricane or planning a holiday event, the first order of business is figuring out who is in charge. Everything else follows form there.

"Being in charge is only a lot of work if you are too involved in things you have no business being involved in."

Once again, going to use the example of my neighborhood assoc. The president of our association is very busy with work, family issues, and is NOT in the best of health, but because he's the one in charge, he's also expected to be available any time anyone needs ANYTHING.

He helps maintain our dirt roads, so he also has to run the tractor. He's mostly a live and let live type of guy, the type you WANT in charge, not a nosy busybody who likes to powertrip on micromanaging, but he's still pretty busy with (pardon the term) governing affairs. And we're a pretty small community with half the population being snowbirds who aren't even around for most of the year.

"Without a government I don't need to make sure a leader is "having all their needs met" so their decisions will be good because their decisions wont drastically and negatively impact my life if they are bad. Sorry but meeting all the needs of a leader is some slave cult leader shit."

True. But you know it's what happens anyway. YOU PERSONALLY may not see the value of keeping the leader, whatever title he or she wears, free from mundane distractions, but it's still part of the power creep. "How can I be effective if I have to spend SO much time worrying about keeping my lights on and my kids fed? I need these needs met before I can focus on making sure our community thrives." And so people will contribute towards his electric bill or bring him food, and the next thing you know, it goes from being a favor to an expectation that no one bothers to question.

Don't insult my intelligence by saying it never happens that way just because YOU would resist it and tell him to get a job like any normal slob. It's not brain-washing, it's how traditions form. Good and bad.

"Everything you said after we're a quarralsome bunch is only true under the state. Because we have been brainwashed into believing the state is an arbiter and solver of all our problems…and because the state restricts us from our own conflict resolution people have come to think of the state as customer service but for people."

Blood feuds are not a product of Big Government. Wars are not a government exclusive activity. We ALL know about the Hatfields and the McCoys, don't we? Hell, even Chimpanzees have been discovered to wage war on each other.

Mob justice can work in some cases, but then you hang an innocent person. Everyone feels guilty about it. Someone says "Hey, we need a way to keep this from ever happening again."

Our current situation did not pop up overnight like mushrooms after a rain storm, it happens step by step. A little at a time over time until you get SOME form of government. It comes from ordinary people demanding SOMETHING be done about SOME situation they don't like.

Do I think people SHOULD be free to govern themselves n whatever manner they choose? Yes. Absolutely. And if you can find a way to do that, great! But Anarchy as a system is simply not sustainable with a large population. Which CURRENTLY EXISTS!! If you're not for population reduction then you have to deal with what is, not what you wish existed.

So even if you could snap your fingers and magically make every single politicization, bureaucrat, member of royalty, and every other authority figure poof into nonexistence and make people forget that they were ever part of such a social hierarchy while changing nothing else that you didn't want changed, how long do you think it would take before SOMEONE rises right back into power through whatever means?

How do you convince people they don't want this individual in power if he or she happens to be some sort of respected figure seen as wise and benevolent? "You can rule yourself." doesn't work against "Sure, but so and so makes a lot of sense. I'll take their advice." Which eventually evolves into "We have to listen to So and So because they know better."

Yes, there are some people who are more independent minded and should be allowed to do their own thing but most people simply are not.

The rest of your points basically fall under the same answers.

Conservatives: "I believe in government because I don't have faith in people. Which is why I want a government made up of people I have no faith in to have control over things they would not have without the state."

See I mock but it's actually worse than that, it's not just that it makes no sense to not believe people can take care of themselves but to believe they can take care of a government that takes care of everyone...that would be stupid enough....but the government is actively made up of the worst of the worst people. The dumbest, most psychotic and sociopathic mother fuckers in the world run every government in the world. And they support that because they have no faith that you are too incompetent and shitty to be trusted with freedom. And of course they beleive all of this while also believing they support freedom.

[sandsorghum]

"Fake Dating" With the JJK Crew

Happy april fools!here's the ultimate prank of deceiving your family :p

Maybe you have a family reunion with nosy relatives coming up, or a wedding where having a minus -1 would invite too many of the same questions you're exhausted explaining or providing excuses for.

So, you resort to asking a massive favour of them; Will you be my pretend boy/girlfriend?

Here's how they'd react - and act! Listed in order of who is most to least enthusiastic about accepting your pitch:

How they respond to your request

Honestly when you brought the event up the the plan hadn't even popped into your head, Satoru was the one to suggest it

You'd just mentioned it as a casual topic of conversation, scrolling through your phone, shopping for shoes to match your outfit

"Yeah, I have this wedding next month and I still need-"

"A plus one? Count me in! Text me the date and time."

You laugh it off as another one of his jokes of course

but this is exactly the kind of opportunity for shenanigans Satoru won't give up

so he keeps badgering you for the details over the week, till you finally give in

if nothing else, he'd provide some entertainment right?

What's the worse that could happen? Oh boy...

Their performance

"Really Satoru? Was the helicopter actually necessary?"

"Absolutely!"

"Half the tables had to pick sand out of their salads."

"Tsk, catering didn't do a good job cleaning the kale leaves then."

Naturally Gojo pulls out all the stops, not knowing his limits

It works though, your relatives are super impressed with his grand entrance on the beach

Maybe he did need such an ostentatious mode of transport, since he's delivering close to 50 things on the couple's registry, and some other stuff not on the list he figures newlyweds could use

(The 4 poster bed will get here later, he tells the baffled bride)

And because it's Satoru, he's not content to settle for a simple story of how you met through work

No, it has to be a convoluted plot of corporate espionage, rivaling tycoons and you caught in the middle of it all

It's too outlandish, but he sells it with his azure, glinting eyes and in his powder-blue velvet Versace suit

"It's gotta be so bizarre they have no choice but to believe it!"

People are too enchanted to really pay any attention to the details

And hey, maybe you're an accomplice with the sapphires dripping around your neck, those he insisted on decking you out with, telling you they were specially pulled from his family vaults

The jewelry doesn't dazzle half as much as him though, obviously

The bridesmaids (and some of the groomsmen too) are swooning and swarming all over Satoru, causing you to roll your eyes at how predictable he's being, with those half slid-down sunglasses

You are surprised by the bouquet that drops into your lap suddenly, having refused to participate in the rush - even out of obligatory observations of the custom.

But in the corner of your eye you'd spotted a fleck of white, long-limbed and triumphant amongst the tittering, applauding women

"What are you doing? I will kneecap you if you keep these antics up" you hiss, seeing him start to bend down. "Today of all days, she'll slaughter me if you try to steal her thund-"

"Relax, princess. Ya know I don't get the whole craze of monogamy"

Your gaze drifts to the gaggle of giggling women peeking at him from behind a palm tree. Probably ogling his ass as he intentionally dawdles over his laces.

"Evidently. Better not to keep your harem waiting then." You tilt the stem of your wine glass back. A 2014 Sauvignon Blanc, dryer than it is sweet. Your lips purse.

Satoru smirks, standing up to pluck a single hyacinth blossom from the bouquet. You don't know which you're more startled by, the plush of its petals whispering by the shell of your ear, or the brief tenderness of his touch as he tucks a wisp of your hair behind the flower, lush and verdant.

"Just as I thought," Satoru muses, "Blue suits you much better than green."

How they respond to your request

Was pretty surprised (and flattered!) that you'd ask him

but he's a little worried cause he doesn't have the best poker face

"You don't really need to lie. Just fall back on our natural chemistry, we're already good friends aren't we?"

Yuji knows that's definitely something he can rely on, but still feels rather nervous when the actual date of the New Year reunion dinner arrives! Hopefully none of your relatives will notice anything awkward about this pretend dynamic...

Their performance

Yuji needn't have worried! Your family loves him

especially your youngest nephews and nieces

They take to him because he doesn't pander and puts up his best fight against them in Mario Kart (even beats them in a few races)

Your aunts adore him because he makes himself so useful in the kitchen, helping them lift all the heavy items and doing the more finicky prep work

In no time at all they've flocked around him in a fuss, getting him to taste sauces and creams and bites of various culinary concoctions

charmingly honest too

"I think it could use a bit more salt!"

I've never had this before so I don't know what it ought to taste like"

"It's still a bit chewy, maybe a couple more minutes? But you're the expert here!"

very good-natured, takes it all in his stride, including all the spoons constantly shoveling food at him

you're finally able to rescue him for a couple of minutes, just long enough to tell him you think he looks cute in that frilly apron

Yuji's bright bashful grin has you wondering if you can compel him to come over to your kitchen next weekend, to test out your aunt's jealously guarded chicken pot pie recipe (that she'd been all too enthusiastic to reveal to him!)

How they respond to your request

Suguru's super amused at how anxious you are when you ask him

Would pretend to mull it over for a few minutes, acting like he needs to be convinced, to see how bad you want him

he's basically fishing for compliments but you list out the reasons for why you think he'll be great at this role anyway

it might almost sound like you're admitting he's your actual type

be careful that he doesn't catch on or he'll tease you relentlessly

Mischief aside, Suguru comes up with the most legitimate backstory and contingencies on how to field suspicious questions

Their performance

It's that languid confidence which convinces practically everyone at the gathering

it's easy and comfortable, how he takes your hand and rubs his thumb along yours, when it seems like no one is watching (though Suguru's observant about the pairs of eyes you don't spot, he tells you Subtlety sells the story all the more)

You wonder if it's almost too easy and comfortable

Especially when one of your nosier cousins abruptly interrogates him about what sparked his attraction to you in the first place, and Suguru is absolutely ready with his reply, tone unwavering

He only pauses slightly as if thinking through his options, before smoothly answering, with the perfect amount of wistful reticence, as if these details are too personal to share:

"Well...it's hard to say, I was kinda spoiled for choice with them."

Suguru's charisma is almost in excess. Now you're worried that no one in your family will believe you landed someone this smooth

Well, smooth apart from the minor hiccup of him deciding to confront one of your uncles about their conspiracy theories

with an even weirder/dumber conspiracy theory

Eg, "You believe the moon landings were faked? Wait - you believe in the moon? You know that's not real, right?"

It's a guilty pleasure, witnessing the way Suguru makes gaslighting this gaping moron an art

You'll find yourself fascinated, entranced like a moth to the flames...

How they respond to your request

It's not one you remember making, entirely

maybe you mentioned it in passing on one of those gin-soaked nights Mei Mei is so fond of

you'd been bemoaning the banality of your online matches and she was surprisingly sympathetic

"When you're so out of everyone's league it hardly makes playing the game any fun. Or worth it."

"Ah well, I think that rather applies more to you Mei, than me. I'm still relatable. Weirdoes still find me approachable, somehow."

Their performance

Exactly how approachable, you find out when she turns up 3 hours before the wedding on your doorstep, dressed like she's attending the Met Gala

She tosses you something sheathed in black satin, the fabric of the protective cover feeling more exquisite and expensive than the combined cost of your whole wardrobe

"Get changed. The make-up artist will be here in five."

You try to protest of course, but this works about just as well when you decline her invitations for a night out on the town. If you don't go to meet her, she brings the bar to you

You're not sure what Mei Mei is planning to unleash on you tonight but the limousine's leather seats feel too good

The bride is beautiful and blessed, even Mei Mei's glamour won't turn her new husband's head

but you can feel both their families glaring daggers at the two of you all evening

There's no way they'll buy Mei Mei being your partner with how she's flaunting poise, elegance and erudition

One of the in-laws leans over, the bourbon harsh on his breath.

He's drunk enough to have a terrible estimation of decibels. "Where'd you get an escort like her? And how many months of yer paycheck did you waste?"

Mei Mei tosses him a withering look, "Please, they'd have to take out a loan."

You choke at her comeback, flabbergasted with the scarlet scrambling to your face, unable to expel an explanation or apology

You've been pretty liberal with the Chardonnay all evening (to help with your nerves) but you feel it all flood to your cheeks, ameliorating effects dissipating in Mei Mei's messy kiss, launched directly against your lips

She pulls back to admire the shine and flush of your complexion, commenting, "They could never afford me, even if they slaved away for a hundred lifetimes. But I'd still be drawn to y/n in each of them. Obviously they bought me over with their unique charm alone."

How they respond to your request

She thinks it sounds like a waste of time till you let slip it's a destination wedding (tickets & accommodations covered)

You see her eyes shine with dreams of visiting the boutique malls that line the streets there

but she tempers her gruff tone to imitate grudging acceptance

"Fine, there's this super cute dress I wanted to get more wear out of anyway. And you'll owe me something too!"

Their performance

It is indeed a super cute dress. You tell her this and you're surprised to see her slight blush. It accentuates her features and it's then you realise how long she must have spent on her make-up too

And that outfit is that much cuter now with how its wearer is just a tad high-strung

Nobara's not very good at ad-libbing so she keeps floating random, increasingly ridiculous hypotheticals about the kinds of questions she'll have to field

it's practically a couple's quiz

"Who confessed first, you or me?"

"What's your blood type?"

"What's your favourite colour?"

"When's our anniversary date?"

"What was the weather like when we had our first kiss?"

"Have we talked about exe's?"

You laugh and reassure her that you won't leave her side all day if she's that worried, squeezing her sweaty hand

She doesn't let go

In the end, the nervousness radiating like shockwaves off Nobara works in her favour

Even if her answers come off somewhat awkward, your family assumes she's just anxious about making a good first impression!

How they respond to your request

"Just don't go at all then, if you're going to be uncomfortable alone. Why would you hang out with people who judge you for that sort of stupid thing?"

Ngl, convincing Megumi is gonna be an uphill battle, he can be super stubborn

Even if you tell him there's absolutely nobody else you want as your +1, unfortunately flattery won't get you very far

Strangely enough, your best odds of him acquiescing are once you've given up, and he sees how crestfallen you are

Why does he put up with such ridiculous requests?

He'll never admit it but he has quite the soft spot for you

Their performance

He's determined to stick.to.the.script as much as possible

But all it takes is one hyper inquisitive aunt for the plan to fall apart

Megumi's practically monosyllabic answers don't help much either

"Where did you two meet!"

"School."

"And who asked who out?"

"Her."

"Ooh and what did y'all do for the first date?"

"Eat lunch."

"That's it?"

"Yes."

You can see smoke spiraling out of your nosy relative's ear canals as they wrack their brain for a way to pry more info from your perfectly stoic partner

"What attracted you to them?"

You spot how Megumi stiffens, eyes darting about frantically for an ad-lib, foot determined to drill a hole in the ground.

You've seen him try and he's terrible at it, he can't lie!

He takes a deep breath

Oh no

"Lots."

What?

"Lots?" The bemused inflection of your aunt's echo demands an elaboration

He nods once.

"Her nose. Smile. Wits. Trustworthiness..." Megumi mutters, decibels dropping with each description, his voice taking on an inverse relationship between volume and sincerity

He can't lie, you remember, the realisation compounded by Megumi ever so carefully avoiding your gaze

In turn, you'll do him the courtesy of not noticing - or mentioning - the reddened tips of his ears

for now.

How they respond to your request

"You'd make a liar out of me."

Nanami's tone is flat, but the fractional tilt of his brow substitutes a rhetorical inflection.

"Well - No, not technically. They never stipulate that the plus one must be a romantic partner."

"But that is the common understanding."

"A common misunderstanding. Minor details, Nanami. Details are-"

"Wherein the devil lies."

A fist notches against your hip. "Right, because all your relatives know exactly why your insurance premiums are so high."

"Omission is different from deliberate deceit. Besides, those situations are avoidable. Which is why-"

"Well, we can't all be serial skippers of family gatherings. You ever consider some people might not want to miss out consecutive weddings and birthdays? Being a sorcerer makes for shit enough work-life balance already. On a weekend that I'm finally free too-"

You stop yourself, having a realisation in the middle of your grumbling.

"I'm sorry, it's selfish of me. I suppose you might have plans already, and I didn't even ask."

Nanami, unfazed, turns to the financial section of his newspaper, remarking, "You're making this request three months in advance."

"Well, I dunno. You take your leisure time really seriously right? You've probably regimented your weekends to get to know a certain sourdough starter better." You grin at Nanami, playfully flicking a corner of his broadsheet.

"Rye, actually." This time his voice is so level you'd bet Nanami has that plan penciled and underlined in his calendar.

"I get it, yeast is expensive. I wouldn't want you to get behind schedule," you sigh. "It's fine, I'll take a gamble and ask Gojo again. I just hope my cousin doesn't turn up, she's been texting me constantly about why he won't return her calls."

"If you're thinking of asking Gojo, you're not taking a gamble. You've already lost."

"Thanks for the helpful advice."

"The man is a walking grenade of shamelessness."

"I'd say Strutting, but my options are limited. Almost everyone in jujutsu is a ticking bomb. At least this one owns a limo. And can dance."

Nanami pauses mid-flip of his page, glancing up. "Almost?"

"Yeah, well, there's me." Your thumb sticks out toward yourself, before your index extends. "And then there's you. And..."

Nanami stares at your fingers. All two of them, to be precise.

You shrug, folding them back into your fist. "That's about it, really."

Nanami doesn't say anything, scanning headlines.

The cogs aren't turning, you're sure only your heart is whirring

You count the 30 clicks of the second hand creeping across his watch, if only to convince yourself an hour isn't passing.

His own expression rivals the clock face's neutral calculations.

Suddenly, Nanami stands.

Your shoulders sag - so much for your bet.

Then he says, "It'll be a rental."

He tucks the newspaper under his arm, and firmly pushes those gaze-obscuring spectacles up his sharp nose, before adding, "And I don't dance."

Their performance

"Nanami?" You try to rein in your gasp at the last moment, yanking the syllables back so it pitches high into a startled greeting.

"You're-" Your throat feels parched, despite your mouth watering all of a sudden. You swallow the pool, forcing the tide back down. "You're early."

A blessing, really. You could use every single extra second to soak in the sight before you. Nanami's opted for a three piece suit in Prussian blue for the occasion, definitely custom-made to order.

Your eyes roam from the perfectly fit jacket accentuating the slope of his broad shoulders, sweeping over the double-breasted plunge of those peaked lapels that draw your gaze down across his pronounced pectorals. The plush of them is barely obscured, further emphasized in fact, by the cut of his vest and the taut expanse of white, his sternum arching in parallel with a Murrell knotted tie the colour of carbon steel grey. Single-pleated pants hug his hips, seams tapering past those muscled thighs. It's not like you intended to linger there on his lower half, but with the way Nanami's tucked his hands into his pockets, your eyes can't help but flicker between the bulges.

The impeccable craftsmanship of the tailor was one thing, but the way Nanami wore this suit was something else.

You had thought he'd show up, sophisticated if understated as ever, just to play another role, in a slightly smarter uniform.

Nanami Kento always carried himself with composure and class - could even stake his reputation on those traits, but his deportment was distinctly different this evening. Was he standing a little taller? Were his eyes always this razor blade-bright?

There's a flash of silver before you hear Nanami's voice, snatching you from your stupor.

"And you're ready." His pause is briefer than yours, though you feel a similar weight (and warmth perhaps?) scanning your silhouette, snugly embraced by your evening gown. Then it's gone, falling back on his clock face.

"Excellent," he states, after clearing his throat. You suspect he's praising more than your punctuality - but you never dared to assume, not with Nanami.

"Shall we?" he extends his elbow and you grasp it gratefully, getting an opportunistic squeeze around his accentuated biceps.

If Nanami noticed, he made no comment.

Nanami's performance is of course, as precise and impeccable as you predicted, demonstrating exactly why you picked him in the first place

He's courteous, considerate and charming in his own reserved way, with his shrewd, measured and realistic responses to your uncles' concerns about the stock market, coupled with his cleverly deft deflections of your aunts' more prying inquisitions about your love life.

Though you both rehearsed the answers, his responses come off more sincere than scripted or stilted.

But mostly it's his presence that speaks volumes

It's in his mannerisms straight out of a 1950s etiquette guide, how he pulls doors open and chairs out first for your relatives and then you, or refills glasses before anyone asks, and never lets his palm drift lower than the small of your back as the two of you move between rooms and ceremonies (whether you wish it would or not is entirely a matter of discretion between you and your fifth scotch)

But what impresses everyone the most is when he convinces your 10 year old nephew - who for the entirety of his existence has declared war on vegetables - to touch his cauliflower florets, and finish them. Nanami somehow even encourages him to use chopsticks the correct way

His awe-struck parents approach Nanami, voices hushed with reverence. "How on earth did you compel that fussy tyrant to put those on his tongue!"

"I simply informed him of the consequences of a predominantly dessert-based diet." You can't help but grin observing your brother's profuse gratitude and profound respect as he shakes Nanami's hand, and at how your sister-in-law eagerly takes notes from Nanami about preparing salads to appeal to junior palates.

The rest of the celebration flies by. Nanami hovers by you, floating cordially between catch-ups and conversations as if the dynamic is one the two of you have shared for years, as if he's on auto-pilot

The only thing that remotely resembles a crisis is when he has a curious turn of phrase, a slight slip of the tongue.

It's in the vestiges of pink tinting his visage when you address him and he absently answers "Yes, sweetheart" causing your cousins to titter. He excuses himself to the toilet; it's the sole fracture in his facade the entire evening.

You're only slightly caught off guard when the gaggle swarms you, gushing envy and clamouring for the contacts of any of your other attractive, available co-workers. One of them even declares their determination to break into your industry, which you dismiss with a chuckle and complaint about the compensation and work hours.

"Really? But based off Nanami's cuff links alone...he seems in a different tax bracket than most of us combined."

One of your older cousins gasps melodramatically, "I didn't take you for a gold digger! I thought your parents raised you better."

You roll your eyes, ignoring her mockery. "I'm not."

Another, barely out of adolescence pipes up, "Man, they don't make sugar daddies like they used to."

"Nanami's not my sugar daddy."

"Just your regular daddy then?"

You're too flabbergasted by the explosives guffaws to provide a retaliatory flick to the little smartarse's forehead.

"Care to repeat the punchline?" His level voice cleaves through a chorus of cleared throats as your cousins pretend to scatter or sip on their drinks.

"Nanami-san, is it normal for salarymen to expense escorts? I was just wondering how you can afford to pay h-"

"Ow, shit!" You stumble forward against Nanami's chest, his arms already open to stabilize you - but your hand is already threateningly clamped around your younger cousin's shoulder.

"Sorry, it's these heels," you hiss, not relinquishing your savage grip on the brat who's now squirming uncomfortably.

"Let's take a seat over there then," Nanami says, slipping a strong arm around your waist and guiding you away. You crane your head just past his broad shoulders to glare daggers at your cousin, even as they stick out their tongue and make exaggerated smooching faces at your retreat.

"Your ankles aren't swollen at least," he comments, lifting your legs into his lap. You flush as you feel his fingers glide up your calves, pressing firmly along the muscle to test for unwarranted tension.

"Um...Yeah, I think my feet fell asleep, that's all." You wiggle your toes before slowly rotating your ankles about an inch from the apex of Nanami's strong thighs.

"Probably just need to move them a little." Nanami hums a low note of agreement as he carefully lowers your feet back on the ground, before standing and offering you an open palm. You glance up at him, puzzled.

He tilts his head toward the wide open area beneath the pavilion, where a throng of people are drifting back and forth, in pairs, to a mid-tempo melody.

"Let's move them, then. Just a little," Nanami tacks on those words like a caveat, but you beam at him, accepting his hand and the promise folded into his warm palms.

"You said you don't dance."

"I don't." His fingers curve around your hips, subtle as the smirk that isn't etched at the corners of his lips, you're sure. But then, you feel his forearm flex against your spine, like a strong bough fording the meanders of a river, and you're swept off by the undercurrent.

"What do you call this then?" you whisper as he twirls you effortlessly in his arms.

"Swaying...in time."

"Well. You're a pretty good sway-er, Nanami Kento."

He doesn't respond, but his puff of warmth against your nape cushions your quip as the two of you fall into comfortable silence and synchronised steps.

You feel the sculpted swell of his torso, every corded sinew so often taut with the exertion and extortion demanded by your duties. You map those muscles, so familiar with tension, so foreign to the tenderness of your fingertips. Flitting between daring and diplomacy, they trace the topography of his tendons, the tributaries of veins pulsing with potentially crushing strength.

Yet you can only concentrate on how gently Nanami's clasped your hand to his chest, weathered palms wrapping around your fingers to press against granite and the steady pounding beneath it.

"You really have swayed me," you murmur, eyes focusing on how slowly Nanami slides his thumb along your ridges. "I'm going to need to start swiping through those apps again."

You feel Nanami pull away slightly from you to observe the expression that accompanies your resigned sigh. "Apps?"

Your gaze drifts over his shoulder, to the couples drifting and floating in each other's arms, from the wrinkled smiles crinkling rheumy eyes to the broad grins, youthfully uncreased, shared and tucked between lips as snug as letters in a crisp envelop.

"It...could be nice, having something beyond a facade. Beyond functions," you muse. You sense Nanami tilt his head to track your line of sight, pausing briefly before commenting.

"Well,I'm glad you at least found my deception serviceable tonight."

You chuckle at Nanami's wry self-assessment, rolling your eyes.

"Oh please, Mr Benchmark, you'll have me swiping for weeks."

"Hm, or months."

Your mouth drops open at his retort, and you see your own surprise glittering in Nanami's neutral countenance with its almost perfectly impassive stare; blank enough anyway to reflect your amusement.

"Sure, it'll be tough enough finding a more constant companion that matches your caliber - minus the attitude," you tease. Nanami's lips set into a thin straight line, and there's a suspicion of his fingers twitching against your sides, specifically at the mention of more constant companion.

"Besides, I can hardly keep troubling straitlaced Nanami every time I need a partner for these escapades."

He doesn't reply - which you think rather proves your point.

But you don't know that what's really starting to bother Nanami is how he doesn't find that prospect troublesome...at all.

The ride back to your apartment is quiet. You can tell Nanami is a little worn out by all the socialising and polite smiling, so you're content to recline in the backseat with him, letting your silences settle against each other.

Between the thrum of the engine and the free flow alcohol throughout the evening, your eyelids droop shut.

A dream like haze stretches the minutes into hours, like cotton gauze pulled into loose fibers fogging your mind with sensations of swirling, a light tickling and comforting warmth. The sole distinct thing that feels solid are calloused hands cupping your cheek and drifting tentatively across the dip of your back. Strangely real as well, the vapours of cognac and a hypnotic heartbeat pillowed beneath you, steadily rising and falling and rising again

You perhaps hear someone call your name through the mist, but any identifying texture of their voice is swallowed. You strain to hear them, but there's only their pause, patient and pensive almost.

But then you hear it again, this time with a weight upon your shoulder that rouses you.

An almost familiar face flickers into view, as you shake the dregs of some odd subconscious yearning from your mind.

But even as it clears, Nanami's face still seems strange at this distance, as if distorted - for it is barely any distance at all. You've never seen him up close like this; forehead too broad, thin brows too furrowed, eyes too deep set and large and dark.

"Hey."

You feel the whiskey-soaked whisper gust against your cupid's bow even before it registers in your ears. His mouth looks different too, chapped and parted around an ask he can't verbalise. It's on the tip of his tongue, darting anxiously out to wet his lips.

Instead those soft pink folds shape around your syllables again, stirring something in you. Curiosity, you'll call it later, an unbearable itch. You will taste his unspoken request if he won't allow you to hear it. All it would take is a fractional tilt of your head

But then Nanami stiffens in an instant, shifts away in the next and you feel yourself sliding against silky material. He braces you as you break fully from the stupor, realising your cheek is crushed against his lapel, where a small patch of damp spreads.

"Oh god, Nanami. Your suit, I'm sorry!" you sputter, covering your mouth.

"No it's all right, that's cognac. Courtesy of one of your more ebullient aunts."

"Really?" you sniff, skeptical, though your nostrils corroborate his dismissal with a whiff of alcohol.

Nanami nods, opening the car door. "Yes. Now come, let's get you home where you've got something more comfortable to drool on."

"I still feel like I should apologise on their behalf," you say sheepishly, fidgeting outside your apartment. Hesitantly you reach out to smooth your hand across his jacket, fingers flexing with the muscle memory of his firm swells beneath the fabric.

"Let me take care of the dry-cleaning bill. I'll get it back to you in three days. The guy in my neighbourhood is really quick."

Nanami shakes his head, a wry smile tilting his lips. "There's no rush, I'm hardly in high demand as a fake lover. Well, in the first place, there's no need for a dry. I can handle my own laundry."

"A fake lover" The words echo in your mind as your gaze roves over the man who had helped you pull the evening off so convincingly. Suit a little more crinkled now, eyes lined with deeper creases. Fringe slightly mussed; you wonder if the wisps of those blonde locks partially obscuring his gaze now had been responsible for the tickling sensation in your dreams, brushing against you as he dozed off on the ride back too, nose inadvertently tucked against your nape. If only you'd woken up before him, you'd know.

Nanami hasn't pushed your hand away, yet.

"Well, um," you clutch his tie, grasping for an excuse to linger. "Then at least let's split the limo cost, okay? You have to."

Nanami sighs, body sagging as you square yours up, recognizing your default stance of stubborn determination. "Why?"

"Be-because! If- If you pay for everything, it will- it would-" You let go of his tie, fists dropping by your side instead.

Nanami arches a brow, taking a step closer. "It would what?"

He's never known you to be inarticulate in your arguments.

Your cheeks are dusted vermilion. Nanami didn't think you had that much to drink. Sure, you had slurred something that sounded suspiciously close to his name in your nap on the way back here, but your eyes are bright and glinting now, practically glaring at him.

You can't believe you have to spell this out for him.

But maybe it wasn't super surprising. Maybe all Nanami really did do with his weekends was devote his soul to sourdough.

You take a deep breath. "Because, it would feel like a real date."

"Oh."

Nanami's gaze is quizzical, you can see a dozen responses cycling through his brain - none of which you can predict. He regards you for a long moment.

Would that impression be so bad? Did you so abhorrently oppose the idea of him bringing you on an actual date? Probably it boiled down to your admirable, adorable fierce independent streak - wait, Adorable? That didn't sound right...

Nanami clears his throat. You stiffen, prepared for his excuse.

"Whether this was a real date or not, that perception is up to you. It's not my prerogative. Regardless of any transactions exchanged or future favours owed." The corner of his lips twitches and your heart flips, hardly daring to speculate what Nanami could want from you down the road.

"But for the record," he continues calmly, so smoothly you don't even notice when your fist had uncurled, when he had snuck his own hand beneath your grasp, "No matter what your cousin mentioned earlier this evening..."

Your cousin? You're caught off guard by the apparent non-sequitur. Nanami takes the opportunity to pull your hand close to him gradually; so gradually there's ample time for enough clarity to seep through, for you to tug your hand back. But you don't.

Not even at the slow drag of his thumb across your knuckles, slow as the timid creep of verdant shoots through frosted tundra, slow as hibiscus petals unfurling across your cheeks. Wonder triumphs. Spring triumphs. Nanami plants a single kiss upon your hand.

"I find your company to be priceless."

[writtenbyevie]

For the otp question thing!! for sunaosa (obviously): 18 (I’m asking mostly for the bonus hehe), 26, 28, 29, and 30! I’m very nosy and curious what you think about these hehe, big love <3

my beloved jules!! the outlets you give me to ramble on about sunaosa bring so much joy so thank you. i’m squishing your cheeks 🤍✨🤍

18. Who leaves little notes in the other's lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)

Since I imagine Osamu makes Suna's lunch almost every day at Inarizaki, dually to test out his recipes and to take care of Suna, I think he does this. I would like to think he writes really, really bad food puns related to whatever meal he just made in hopes of making Suna laugh from the sheer cringe factor alone. He also always tacks on a PS which features something sweet, with the goal of making Suna blush and/or punch him in the arm.

When they're living in different cities, Osamu tries order lunch for them both from a chain restaurant that has locations in both Shizuoka and Osaka at least once a week. (He likes to eat locally but for this plan to work he has to rely franchises) He'll have Suna's meal delivered to the EJP Raijin gym and his to Onigiri Miya. That way they can feel like they're eating together, even if it's at different times in different places, just as they did back in Hyogo.

To top it all off, in the notes for Suna's order, he still writes bizarre little jokes, not caring what the delivery guy or chefs will think. It's gotten Suna some strange looks from drivers over the years but c'est la vie.

26. What would be their theme song?

THIS IS HARD!!! When writing earth and moon, I repeatedly listened to J's Lullaby by Delaney Bailey, as I felt that song really embodied the atmosphere and energy of what I was writing. Lyrically, I'm not sure if it's the best match. I just love something very soft and without frills for them. Inevitable by Anberlin is also another good one for them. I also love this instrumental piece called Wanderlust by AK for them. I don't know to describe it, but it encapsulates their energy very well to me. I probably listened to this one the most actually while writing them.

28. What do they do when they're away from each other?

This is actually a plot point in earth and moon! They do a lot of things, but I have a favorite one. So mild spoiler alert I guess?

For context: Suna and Osamu discuss the moving away from each other, causing Suna to confess he fears Osamu will forget about him. Osamu responds with the story about how Atsumu knew he had a crush on him before he did.

“One day, I snapped. Asked why his delusional ass was so convinced I liked ya.” Osamu smiles, a little pull of his lips, a little pull of Rin’s heart. Gravity living and breathing and just eighteen. “Do ya know what he said?”

Rin shakes his head. 

“He said he knew cuz I kept findin’ ya in things.” Thunder rumbles, a low kind of crash that jostles the ground beneath feet and glass in barely kept together windows. “Told me that my every other sentence was some variation of ‘doesn’t this remind ya of Rin?’” Osamu chuckles, the sound tumbling, as if each breath trips the next. “To which he’d always answer ‘no ‘cuz I’m not in love with him ya moron,’ and I’d always promptly put him in a headlock.”

Rin snorts, sticky and dull, but something in his chest clears. Light seeps in.

Sighing, Osamu says, “and as much as I hate to admit it, he got me thinkin’.” He cranes his head, watching falling raindrops as if they bottle his thoughts. “Thinkin’ about how I’d find ya in the bottoms of pudding cups and the backyard willow tree and the bridge of my favorite song.” They kiss his face. Baby blue bursts of memory. “And I realized ‘Tsumu got somethin’ wrong.” Osamu grins properly now. Crooked and wide. His old lip scar drawn over with gray ink. “I didn’t just randomly find ya in those things, I was lookin’. And I still look.”

He gazes at Rin directly. Moonlight curves around the storm’s bend. Softly shining amongst the sky’s black melancholy. It does not best the lightning or better the rain, but it returns. Constant, even when Rin believed it to be lost. 

“I look for ya in strawberry soda, shichimi, and the sea. In vanilla, camera flashes, and the color green. In bedsheets, stars, and all my dreams.” Osamu steps closer to Rin so their noses almost brush. “So long as there’s a scrape of matter and a shred of my soul, I’ll be looking for ya, Rin. Until yer lookin’ back. And I know that ya will. Because goin’ does not mean goodbye."

They develop this habit of texting each other messages and/or pictures anytime they see something that reminds them of the other person. It ranges from sweet things like sunsets and starry nights to dirty bumper stickers and a racoon that lives in the dumpster behind Osamu's apartment. They do other things as well, but this one is my favorite.

29. one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart

So I have two because they're character headcanons.

Suna has abandonment issues that manifest in him leaving relationships first, since he can't fathom anyone wanting to stick around. After all, no one has ever chanced after him when he moved, so he learned to just stop looking back.

Osamu's life has been defined by his accomplishments, which results in this sort of covert perfectionism. People love him for what he does, not who he is. He ends up developing in an intense fear of failure, especially when he initially struggles to get Onigiri Miya off the ground.

30. one headcanon about this OTP that mends it

They both unlearn these issues through each other! Osamu actively fights to keep Suna in his life and teaches him that the possibility of pain and being left doesn't devalue or undermine the importance of relationships in the first place.

Suna shows Osamu that not only does he love him for who he is, regardless of his success, but he is proud of him too. One of his lines in after is literally: "I love you for who you are, not who you think you have to be." Suna gives Osamu permission to "fail," which in turn gives Osamu the freedom to grow.

ANYWHO!!! This turned out to be insanely long. Thank you Jules for letting me wax and wane about Sunaosa. I adore them and you!! Big hugs and forehead kisses to you!! Much love 💫💖💫

[eskelbigbang]

Eskel Big Bang 2021 Masterpost

Here are all the fics and art made this year for the Eskel Big Bang. Congratulations on the hard work, everyone!

AO3 collection || #ebb works tag || #ebb art tag || #ebb fic tag

Below the cut is a full list of all EBB works:

Uprooted (T, No Pairing, 12k) by @rachofspades, art by @drachedraws

When a nondescript notice begging for a witcher's aid catches Eskel's attention on his way back to Kaer Morhen for the winter, he finds himself drawn in by his own curiosity despite his initial reservations. Once he arrives, it quickly becomes apparent that there's something more sinister going on than typical monster attacks, and he's determined to figure out what it is. Fic || Art (1) (2)

These Clay Hands (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 4.7k) by @aalizazareth, art by @hobbart-art

Eskel is a shy pottery instructor who meets Jaskier during one of his lessons. The two hit it off. Fic || Art

The Empty Safe Job (M, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 18k) by @iboughtaplant, art by @gods-no-longer-tread-here

A team of thieves with complicated pasts take down the rich and powerful to help those that get left out from justice. Their latest job should be simple, but an unexpected adversary has Eskel confronting his past. Sometimes bad guys make the best good guys. Fic || Art

the broken vines are an open door (M, Eskel & Geralt & Yennefer, 5.2k) by @trissmarrygoals, art by @flyingyarn

Traveling through Aedirn with his newly acquired child surprise, Eskel stumbles upon a dead body - and with it, a mystery. Fic || Art

With you I'll never be alone (T, Eskel/Geralt, 5.8k) by @dat-carovieh, art by @mondfuchs

From their first meeting, through their whole long life Geralt and Eskel have always been there to comfort each other when one of them got hurt. --- Or five times Geralt and Eskel comfort each other through some kind of hurt and one time they're just comfortable. Fic || Art

Eskel Has A Good Day (G, Eskel & Wolf Witchers, 9.3k) by @gods-no-longer-tread-here, art by @phoenixandjacob

The Wolves (and bard) of Kaer Morhen go on a vacation to the coast, and have a good day. Fic || Art (1) (2)

Tu Me Manques. (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 8k) by @etcorsolus, art by @cvbeebop

In which, Eskel meets a bard who calms him. Body, mind, and soul. Story title is how the French say 'I miss you.' The more literal translation is 'You are missing from me.' Fic || Art

Little Red (M, Eskel/Lambert, 6.1k) by @miahclone, art by @llwynbleidd

Eskel helps Lambert while he's recovering from a serious injury. To distract him from the pain, Eskel tells stories of past hunts. Fic || Art

Constellations (M, Eskel/Geralt, 7.2k) by @dredshirtroberts, art by @dat-carovieh

Eskel loves Geralt but their soulmarks don't match - he'd know. They're witchers, and scars are their business. As he joins Geralt in retirement, Eskel figures whatever he can get with the other witcher will be enough. He might get a little bit more than he thought he was bargaining for, but Eskel's never passed up a good deal. Fic || Art (1) (2)

Trial By Fire (Eskel and Aza's Wild Ride) (E, Eskel/OFC, 11k) by @janzoo, art by @liaonyxrayne

When Eskel rescues his succubus acquaintance from witch hunters, their reunion becomes something more as they're drawn into the hunters' plot. What can they do against a twisted idealist and the danger he presents to witchers and non-humans? Fic || Art

Pardon Me While I Burst Into Flames (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 29k) by @ghostinthelibrarywrites, art by @wolfgeralt

When Eskel is hired to kill an incubus who ruined a noble wedding, he finds that his target is far from a bloodthirsty beast, a too-pretty court bard. Eskel spares Jaskier and they go their separate ways, with Eskel expecting never to see the incubus again. But Jaskier has other ideas. Fic || Art

I Could Eat the World Raw (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 7k) by @buttercupsanddandelions, art by @gods-no-longer-tread-here

“This is Eskel.” He pushes him slightly forward, “And he just had his conduit moment.” After becoming a mage, Eskel finds that he's been soul-bound to a little lordling. Fic || Art

Something we bury (M, Eskel/Geralt, 10k) by @heartoferebor, art by @craftgamerzz

“Where’s Eskel?” Ciri asks Geralt, frowning a little. “He went out to do more hunting and gather some potion ingredients. Should be back any moment,” Geralt reassures her. “Ah. Good.” She hesitates a little before deciding to forge right ahead with her next question. She’s asked everyone else in the keep, of course she’ll have to ask Geralt, too. “About his scars…” * Ciri wants to know where Eskel's scars came from, so she decides to ask everyone at the keep about them. Except, they all seem to have different stories... Fic || Art

Lord What Fools These Witchers Be (T, Aiden/Eskel, 21k) by @jayofolympus and @frenchkey, art by aviixrc

When Lambert brings Aiden to winter with him in Kaer Morhen, Eskel is catapulted straight into his own personal hell. It would be easier if he didn’t like the Cat. Instead, he finds himself falling head over heels for his brother’s boyfriend and trying to hide it from a pack of nosy Witchers. If only Aiden would stop flirting with him... Fic || Art (1) (2)

A Moment of Comfort (M, Eskel/OC) by @merpancake

An attack at a brothel begins with blood and carnage, but Eskel finds an unexpected peace in the arms of Cenna. As their paths continue to cross, Eskel carries that same peace within him on his journey through monsters and men. Art

Toussaint's Finest (M, Eskel/Geralt, 9.1k) by @kate-river, art by @justhereforeskel

Eskel is still roaming the Continent. But in recent years the Path has become harder and harder. Eskel has made it a habit to come by Corvo Bianco around vintage and this year's events might change a few things in his life forever. Fic || Art

Beneath the Shadow and the Soul (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 32k) by @vix-spes, art by @buffskierights

Eskel had the strange feeling that everything was going to change when he passed through Dol Blathanna one year on his way back to Kaer Morhen for winter. He had been passing through a town and, instead of running away from him, someone had exclaimed “You’re a Witcher,” and proceeded to sing at him. He just hadn't realised how much of an impact it would have on him. Fic || Art

Daughter of Fire (T, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 4.9k) by @kittynannygaming, art by @zmezagain

Witchers are sterile, that's a fact. No female human can bear their child. Well, the keyword here is 'human' and a succubus is very not human. And Eskel now has a sweet 7 years old daughter. Fic || Art

Break It Recklessly (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 22k) by @anonymousblueberry, art by @nol-nol

From teenage tearaways to successful adults, Geralt and Eskel have always been inseparable. To the extent that when Geralt accepts a wedding invite with Eskel as his plus one, there’s the assumption that they have finally sorted their shit out and got together, forcing them to keep up the facade or cause chaos for the happy couple. What follows is a crash course in emotions, dating, and working out that love can burn long and slow for a very long time. Fic || Art

The Question (M, Eskel/Istredd, 40k) by @eskelchopchop, art by @stars-in-my-damn-eyes

Eskel's in Ohio when Yennefer calls. He’s reluctant to pick up; he’s still not over Geralt, and he's got zero desire to chat with Geralt's new lover. Turns out Yen isn’t his lover anymore, and this isn’t about Geralt. It’s about witcher’s work. Yennefer owns Portal, one of New York City's most popular gay clubs. A Post-Conjunction Entity (PCE) is hunting her clientele, leaving a string of withered corpses in its wake. The police are doing jackshit. Will Eskel come back to a city full of bad memories and take a job off the books to stop it? He'll sure as hell try. Along the way, he’ll cross paths with Istredd, a man with sorcerer’s eyes and a painful past of his own. If Eskel doesn't work fast enough, they both might become the PCE's next victims. Fic || Art

Is It Cold In The Water? (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 12k) by @jennyloggins, art by @jerry-of-rivia

His horse is tied to a branch a few trees out, and that’s where Eskel heads to grab his water skein, taking a deep drink and soothe his dry throat. Patting his horse’s backside affectionately on his way past her, Eskel feigns a stern voice to say, “Zuzanna, keep watch for me.” Her tail twitches as if to swat him away. Fic || Art

Everything I Want (I Can Find in You) by @eyesofshinigami, art by @phoenixandjacob

Eskel didn't think he'd ever see Jaskier again, sure the Cat witcher was only looking for a night of fun. But then he keeps showing up, taking Eskel to bed and leaving him little presents. It takes Eskel a bit, but eventually he realizes that maybe, just maybe, Jaskier means it when he says he wants to keep him. Or Eskel doesn't think he deserves nice things and Jaskier is determined to show him otherwise. Fic || Art

One Stop Shop; Tattoo's Piercings, And Love (M, Eskel/Jaskier/Lambert, 7.4k) by @jesheckah, art by @moondrunkart

When Eskel fumbles an invitation at a party to come into his tattoo shop, Jaskier and he move towards an explosive love. How many tattoo sessions does it take for the heart to know what it wants? Fic || Art

Entanglement (and other words for a mess) (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 31k) by @violaceum-vitellina-viridis, art by @merpancake

Eskel has a hundred marks on his body, but a soulmark isn't one of them. Fic || Art

Beneath Each Other's Bones (E, Eskel/Geralt, 7.6k) by @pressedinthepages, art by @drachedraws

Winter at Kaer Morhen can be brutal. But Eskel and Geralt find warmth in each other in an effort to stave off the cold. Fic || Art (1) (2)

#9fe2bf on the Shore (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 4.5k) by @buffskierights, art by @phoenixandjacob

The sea roars with a vengeance, something angering the waves even as the stars shine brightly overhead in the clear night sky. If Eskel were a poet he’d say it almost sounded like a wail of mourning, the way the whitewater crashes upon the night black sand and the gathering foam, the sea frothing furiously. But Eskel’s always hated his poetry lessons so being a poet is firmly off the table. Fic || Art

lion in the wolf's den (T, Coen/Eskel, 5k) by @patchwork-doublet, art by @justhereforeskel

eskel is nervous being around ciri, afraid things will go south like they did last time. Fic || Art

Sugar Baby Blues (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 24k) by adevinecomedy, art by @pastelrune

Jaskier’s mind slipped back to a night several months ago when he was all worked up but had nowhere to go and a mountain of school work to get through. How it was just so much easier to log onto a camming website and watch someone perform seemingly just for him. The gorgeous, confident man on the other side of the screen had been so accommodating, even though Jaskier had been shy and hadn’t typed much into the chat. Modern au where Eskel is a Cam boy and runs into a bit of a financial bind. Enter Jaskier who just might be the answer to all his woes. Fic || Art

Winter Comfort (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 10k) by @myidlehand, art by @liaonyxrayne

Jaskier comes to Kaer Morhen to spend some time with Eskel, after briefly meeting him in the fall. And while both of them seem delighted to see each other again, Eskel starts to shy away from Jaskier's comments and flirting. It doesn't take a genius to see Eskel is having body image issue. Jaskier aims to help him through it. Fic || Art

The Subtle Knife (M, Eskel/Jaskier, 26k) by @major-trouble, art by @cylin-aka-ankamo

There's an assassin haunting the Continent. No one knows their name, everyone - that is, everyone in the know - calls them The Specter. If you want a rival out of the way, a political opponent disposed of, or a strategic target taken out, contacting The Specter gets the job done. For a price, of course. There's an art to subtlety, after all, and it wouldn't do to risk the attention of law enforcement. So there's no obvious cause, no knife to the back, and the deaths aren't usually remarked upon. The Kaer Morhen Agency, however, has noticed. One of their agents has been hired to protect potential victims, people scared that they've been targeted. And they have reason to worry. When Eskel's first assignment winds up dead of no discernible cause, it starts him on a search for the elusive Specter, hoping against hope to track down the assassin before they're hired again. Setting a trap for a ghost is something Witchers are used to. Setting one for a trained killer may prove beyond them. Fic || Art

No Funny Business (M, Eskel/Jaskier, 11k) by goldendaydreams, art by @nanero11

Eskel had long given up on finding his soulmate, his soulmark nothing but scar tissue from a house fire he’d survived as a child. Knowing that most people wait for their perfect someone, their destiny, didn’t stop him from falling in love with Jaskier, the nurse he met after a hunt gone wrong. Fic || Art

Stronger Than My Storm (E, Eskel/Geralt) by @rawrkinjd, art by @nol-nol

Eskel and Geralt were friends from the very beginning. They added the benefits later. It was another way to offer comfort and companionship when the rest of the world closed in around them, and Eskel was content with it for years. Until he wakes up one day and realises it’s become something more. He touches Geralt’s silver hair, wreathed in a halo of yellow sunlight, and allows himself to feel the cracks spreading through his heart. Witchers can’t love each other. It would only lead to suffering. Eskel realises he must weather the storm inside or let Geralt go forever. Fic || Art

Full of Life (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 6.3k) by @sternenstaub28, art by @llwynbleidd

When Eskel gets hired to solve the case of people disappearing in town, she didn’t know she’d find a friend and maybe even something more. or Beauty and strength don't necessarily make your life easier, a companion and love however do. Fic || Art

choices are the hinges of destiny (T, Eskel/Geralt, 7.5k) by @lutes-and-dandelions, art by @cassandrasartworld

After rescuing a fae from the clutches of death, they repay Eskel by helping him make a choice. -oOo- A story about what would have happened if Eskel had claimed his child of surprise. Fic || Art

Eskel Vs The Continent (And His Feelings) (M, No Pairing, 47k) by @chibitabathasloves, art by @zmezagain

Eskel decides he needs to leave Kaer Morhen after the fight with the Hunt. Where will it take him? And will he be able to face his feelings he desperately tries to ignore. Fic || Art

lookin' to the sky to save me (T, Eskel/Geralt, 10k) by @torynickles, art by @trissmarrygoals

Geralt slides his hand from Eskel’s shoulder to his back. And then. Then he keeps moving it, outwards, away from Eskel’s torso, where there should be nothing but air, but— “What the fuck?” he chokes, because he can still feel Geralt’s hand, sensation where there should be none. He shakes his head wildly, twisting his arm to reach for his own back. His fingers connect to something, but—it’s not his body, it can’t be his body, even though he can feel himself touching it. Because he’s made up of skin and flesh, bone and muscle, and this thing has all of those, but— It’s covered in sticky, damp feathers. Fic || Art

A Fine Night at the Faire (M, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 12k) by Elensule, art by @liaonyxrayne

Eskel has been hurt by the world and hides for refuge in his little goat farm. He's found no reason to look for love, or much of anything else. But encouragement from his brother sends him to an unfamiliar locale; the renfaire! Maybe stepping out of his comfort zone was just what he needed. Fic || Art

[quirklessidiot]

title : cigarettes and parfaits [3] pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, slice of life, josei, angst, comedy, strangers to lovers au

Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right?

Warnings: alcohol, smoking, mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT) i keep forgeting to add that this isnt beta-rread..all of my stories arent so yeah shshs Notes: ah, i feel like this story will be lengthen more than 8-10 chapters shshshs i wanted to add a little spice anyways thanks for all the comments uwu ily all!

Masterlist || taglist || [prev ; next] [updates; every saturday!]

“Y/N-chan!!!”

You cringe in embarrassment as soon as you hear that awfully familiar and cheerful voice, you could barely remember this man and the events that transpired the night before but here he was, acting like your new best friend. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to go here but you needed clarity. Surely you didn’t just legally marry a man at an Izakaya out of all places last night?

“Oh, you actually did marry him.” Gojo Satoru proclaims as soon as you take a seat across him, he gestures around his face, “I could tell by your whole, ‘I hope this guy is messing with me’ face. You have it, signed and sealed. Even got the cute matchy rings that I had one of my assistants delivered.”

You pale at the thought of his assistant coming in with a silver ring. Wasn’t he sober? How could he not have stopped you two from doing something as reckless and stupid as this? Weren’t older men supposed to be more responsible than this?

“Why the hell didn’t you stop us?” You groaned, burying your face in your hands, embarrassment painted all over your features.

“I was just as drunk as you two.” He confessed, scratching his head, “probably even more drunk but anyways back to the topic in hand, I only remembered it when the same assistant came in and congratulated me about it. It’s good I had your number on my phone before you two bailed.”

“So you don’t really remember?”

“Bits and pieces.” Gojo grinned, this guy was a maniac, how did the serious man you met just this morning have friends like this? You probably wouldn’t even last long, “I did call Nanami-”

He’s cut off by the rough sound of someone pulling a chair out, you immediately jump on your seat when you realize it’s Nanami Kento, the guy from this morning. The man you had recklessly married!

“This better be some prank you’re pulling, Satoru.” His voice was anything but kind that you almost wanted to hide behind Gojo’s back.

“Hey, hey.” Gojo raises his hands, “Don’t look at me. I didn’t force you into anything and stop scaring your poor little partner.”

Nanami snaps his gaze towards you and you notice how his eyes soften just a bit when he sees your red ears and your eyes looking away from him, “You better call Geto and fucking fix this, I refuse to bother this young-”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off, still shy and red, “It’s...fine...I just…Please don’t think I’m burdened by it. It was technically my fault for even agreeing immediately.”

Nanami clenches his jaw and turns away, “Nevertheless. L/N-san’s young. I hope to not be such an uncouth man like you.” he retorts, voice sharp as he eyes the white-haired businessman up and down. Gojo, seemingly used to it, rolls his eyes behind his dark shades.

“Maybe you guys should try it out.”

The blonde man looks like he’s about to smite the white-haired man out of existence yet Satoru remains oblivious to his friend’s gaze, “Don’t ya think so? It will take a while for those divorce papers to settle in so why don’t you two go out and get to know each other? Who knows…” he sing-songs the last part and Nanami is so close to chunking his briefcase towards the tall businessman, not even caring 

“Ah, he’s not exactly wrong, Nanami-san.” you try to calm him down, placing a small hand on his broad shoulder.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually listening to this idiot’s idea.” Nanami replied, gaze narrowing.

“Not really but you have some problems I can help you out on and I have problems that you can help me out on...Of course, the last say is on you...”

“Told you I actually had a brain.” Satoru piped in.

“Shut up, Satoru.” he quips, then turns to you, “I’m thirteen years older than you, L/N-san. I have two high school kids that could pass off as your siblings, and-”

“Well, I technically did marry you.”

“You were drunk.”

“Doesn’t exactly really excuse it.” You laugh nervously, “The whole divorce process usually lasts up to a few months, some even takes a whole year. I could help you out with the boys and I can use you to ward my family off from moving back home.”

Nanami is quiet for a moment, actually thinking about it. Weighing the pros and the cons, not only would you be able to help him out but you’d also be able to get Gojo and blind-dating out of his back.

There really wasn’t anything he could loose, really.

“Or you two might fall in love.” Satoru teases, making Nanami throw him another side-eye, as if saying ‘I dare you to say another word.’

It’s a Thursday today and Sukuna absolutely loathed Thursdays     apparently because it reminded him of Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. They all were far from the weekend     Everyone seems to be happier than usual though. Maybe it was because you were there teaching some basic shit at the board or something.

“...and if we transfer this here and change the positive to a negative, you’ll end up having five as your answer.” You smile, placing your chalk down, “Does anyone have any questions?”

Echoes of no’s resonated throughout the room.

“Alright then, let’s end the lesson here so you guys can have an early lunch. I don’t think an assignment is in order since many of you were able to get a perfect score in the activity awhile ago.” You winked. A couple of whoops resonated throughout the whole class right after. 

As the kids shuffle out of the room of the class, Sukuna remains behind. The ojisan had cooked them something delicious this morning and he wanted to eat it in peace without that pesky Nobara grabbing a share from his bento and Yuuji’s annoying babbles about horror movies with his best friend Junpei (the only one who was really bearable was Megumi, really)

“Sukuna-kun?” you called out, snapping him out of his small trance,  “Are you alright?”

He notices a glint of worry in your eyes, he had to admit since his transfer here last Monday, you were the least annoying teacher in the academy     the blue-haired professor in Japanese literature was absolute shit since he loved to tease him a lot and that bald-headed teacher in science who looked a lot like Mike Wazowski was an annoying twerp who loved dawdling in him and Yuuji’s business     and you were kind of good at your job. Not only did his idiot of a brother stop coming to him and their ojisan for help in math but he could actually do the worksheets right and get an actual decent grade at it.

“Yeah.” he roughly replies.

“That’s good.” You smiled, he watched as you bind their worksheets together and clip them in utmost delicacy, “You should head to the cafeteria now, I heard they’re serving milk bread today.”

Without saying anything more, you left the room, leaving him there in the silence.

Well, the Christmas tree idiot was right.

You kind of had a motherly aura on you and it didn’t even look forced.

No wonder, everyone in this room was whipped for you despite your subject being a pain in the ass.

“You look like an idiot.” You mumbled as you slapped Mahito’s hand away in annoyance, your workmate wiggling his eyebrows like the little shit he is.

You completely forgot you did have someone like Gojo Satoru in your life and it was one of your co-workers, Mahito, a Japanese literature teacher who was too nosy for his own good.

“You’ve got a ring on your ring finger and a mailman comes in and gives you an invite for Zen’in Toji’s fortieth birthday.” he whistles, “Even Jogo-sensei gossiped by the water cooler awhile ago, saying that you had eloped with the man. Not that I’m judging you or anything...”

You choke on your saliva, clearly thrown off by the backhanded comment. That darn bald-headed fool that looked like the green eyed monster from the DreamWorks cartoon, he sure needed to lay off the gossip and actually focus on his job as the head of the science department, “You’re not denying it.” Mahito stated, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, “Why aren’t you denying it?”

“I’m not dating Megumi-kun’s father.” You grumbled, finishing up your paperwork, “That man is off limits.”

“Right,” he drawls on sarcastically, “...because you have a strict rule against dating hot older men with money.”

“I also teach his kids and his cousin…” You deadpan.

“We don’t even have a rule against that.” He retorts, rolling his eyes, “If we did, Hanami-sensei would’ve been fired a long time ago.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re so secretive. If it isn’t Toji Zen’in, who’d ask you out?”

“Hey, I do have a man.” You huffed, “and he’s very kind and considerate...”

The image of the tall and lean man sleeping next to you slowly wormed its way back from your memory and you feel your cheeks start to flush. Good god, what were you? twelve? How embarrassing.

You needed to get that image off of your head, it wasn’t right.

It was all temporary, anyways and he doesn’t even see you in that sort of way-

“Yes, I’m Sukuna and Yuuji Itadori’s guardian…” a very familiar stoic voice could be heard from the nearby table, cutting your thoughts short. Wait, were you so head over heels for the man that you started imagining him here? Yuuji and Sukuna’s guardian? Wait a minute.

All color drained from your face as you snap your head behind you to find the same man you were imagining.

Oh no.

Oh no, indeed.

There stood Nanami Kento in all his glory;  crisp suit, stoic face, and eyes laced with mild worry.

“...L/N-sensei is Sukuna-kun’s adviser, by the way. It would be best to discuss this with them.” Akari somberly informed the man, turning to your direction. You don’t miss the shift of expressions when he sees you standing there.

Your mouth parts and you know you look like gawking fish trapped in a small aquarium.

“Akari-sensei’s looking at you with the new hot daddy.” Mahito mumbles next to you, eyeing him up and down, “Definitely wonder where all these old men come from these days.”

You were only half-listening to your co-worker because your head was all over the place, just what were the odds that he was the guardian of the new transferee’s? Just how awkward would everything be? Why did it even have to be at this school out of all places?

Never ending questions pop out of your head as you approached them, “Good afternoon, Nanami-san.” Your smile comes out very stiff and awkward while you hold your hand out for him to shake, clearly there was no memo on how you were suppose to act around your sort-of-fake-husband-whos-kids-you-actually-taught.

Nanami reverts back to his stoic expression as he clears his throat, “Yes, good afternoon to you too, L/N-sensei.” he greets, maintaining a straight-laced tone.

“Akari-sensei says that Sukuna has been quite...rude...in class…” you try to rack your brains up to describe his kid.

“Your son literally pointed out that the history lesson I was teaching was fake and that I should study again so he could get his tuition’s worth.” Akari looks clearly perplexed and ready to throttle the boy if it was legal. You had to admit, Sukuna went overboard with that insult.

You knew how passionate Nitta was about her job and what Sukuna just said to her was like a big ‘fuck you, you suck.’ to her.

“I’ll be sure to talk to him about this,” he sighs, bowing down, “I’d like to ask for forgiveness for that, the boy is a good and smart student-”

“Nanami-san, the school not only cares about grades but character as well.” Akari Nitta sighed, cutting him off, “I’ll let this slide once, if he does that again, it goes on the record.”

You internally bit your cheek, still trying to process everything that was going on.

“I understand. Thank you for that.”

“I’ll walk him out, sensei.” You immediately say soon after, wanting to have some alone time with him, “Let’s go, Nanami-san.”

You walk right next to him silently, some students peerlessly glancing at the tall blonde next to you but you were too immersed in thought to notice the stares, “Nanami-san?” you ask softly as soon as you reach the exit.

Nanami Kento looks at you, his eyes still laced with a bit of worry, “It’s okay.” you silently comforted him, “Just talk to him calmly.”

“That’s not the problem.” he sighed, “I just didn’t expect that the person I married would be the boy’s teacher.”

You sweat drop, “Aren’t you worried about talking to Sukuna? I mean, he literally just disrespected a teacher and you said that he and you weren’t in good-”

“It’s easier to talk to him about that rather than…” he paused, showing his ring, “this.”

You blinked.

Seemed like Nanami knew what to say about the little attitude problem his son had, “So you must be used to this?” you asked, “Him disrespecting the teacher?”

You notice the shift of expressions on his face, you had only known this man for a few days so far but he was starting to get easier to read. His eyes shed more emotion than his face, no wonder he likes wearing those funny sunglasses a lot.

“It’s something I’ve scolded him over a couple of times,” he gruffed, trying to dance around the subject, it seemed like he had such a soft spot to the point where he had a problem with disciplining them, “At times I believe it’s just because he’s way too smart for his age. The boy has read history books for fun when he was a kid and solved quadratic equations to prove that he’s better than me when he was ten.”

“It still doesn’t give him the free pass to say things like that to a teacher”

“I know,” he acknowledged, “I’ll be sure to give him a better scolding-”

“No, you see. This is why he thinks he can get away with it. He isn’t afraid of you. You’ll only probably tell him that you can’t do that.” you frown, crossing your arms, “You do know that not all sensei’s are as nice as Akari-sensei and he could get in trouble for that even more in the future, right?”

Silence lingered between you two for a moment and suddenly you realize that you must’ve said something way off the rails.

“I..” you turn red, embarrassed by the sudden outburst, “That was too much, wasn’t it?”

You look at him directly in the eye, the worry-filled ones are now replaced with a softer gaze. God, he really needed to stop looking at you like a kid. It would only make this set-up more awkward!

“No,” he mumbles, “It...It wasn't too much…”

“Oh.” you cleared your throat, flustered and looking away from his face, “Well, okay then goodbye then Nanami-sa-”

You needed to get out of this conversation quick.

“Kento.”

Your gaze snaps directly towards him, clearly taken aback by the correction.

“What?”

“We’re technically married now, right?” he softly corrected, “Call me Kento.”

“Oh,” You uttered again, this time softly. You looked down on your shoes, it seemed like the floor looked really interesting now, “Then bye-bye, Kento.”

“Bye Y/N.”

He leaves you standing there, cursing yourself because of your erratic heartbeat at the way he says your name in that voice. First name basis? okay, totally normal for sort-of lovers, right?

taglist [if crossed out, i can’t tag u ; - ;]

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@Kurok1717 ;  @hcn421 ;  @shinhiromi ;  @airybnb ; @katshuya ; ​@atsuhaya

[cheeseandstrawberrytartlover]

The Last Newcomer to the Isles

(If anyone has a problem about how I wrote Dreydena, notify me immediately. I tried my best to research.)

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Dreydena's cane was swinging back and forth on the gravel-covered walk way, sometimes getting stuck on tiny rocks which made Dreydena herself quite uncertain. She was walking down to Eight Plates, waiting for the shadow of the building to pass over her. It was morning so she only woke up an hour or so ago. Dreydena knew these streets well, but still had issues bumping into people from time to time. Especially when it was loud. That is why she had her cane.

Once she noticed the shadow casting over her, she took a left turn. She reached out her hand and made it to one of the pillars. Dreydena was happy with herself and started to search for the step in front of the door which led into the Inn. Her cane suddenly hit some feet and then stone.

"Hey, watch out!"

"Oh! I'm sorry!"

Dreydena held onto the door frame and entered swiftly. She only had to walk forward now until she found the counter and sit down.

She had the feeling that many already walked out of the way. Dreydena carefully swung her cane above the floor and hit the counter. She did it!! She tried to feel for a seat and yes! She quickly sat down.

Some footsteps made her think that the bartender was coming and he loudly put a tankard next to her. She didn't order anything yet? Dreydena reached out to touch the tankard only to touch another person.

"Oh! Apologies! I thought that was my cup!"

She immediately took her hand away and the person next to her chuckled.

"Psh! Do not worry."

They had a very odd accent for a fellow dunmer. They took a sip from their cup and then put it back down.

"May I ask where you are from?"

"Eh, veeery far away. You could say a neighboring country."

"Oh and what is your name?"

The person next to her seemed to think about it for a second. Did they not know who they are?

"I do not think I can tell you my name."

"Why?"

The person audibly smiled, "Aren't you a nosy, little thing?"

Dreydena looked down.

"Sorry, I don't mean to be."

"It's quite all right! Curiosity is a good thing!"

They apparently studied her for a second.

"What a cruel joke..."

"What?"

"Your blindness is a cruel joke from the gods."

She nervously rubbed her hands.

"Well- I do not give fault to the gods. Maybe, it just happened when I was born. I already was at the temple in Vivec numerous times, but Vivec themself couldn't help me. It is not our Lord's fault that I was born blind."

The person stayed quiet.

"At least I can't miss anything," she chuckled, "since I was born blind and did not become blind."

Though, she chuckled at her own joke, the stranger did not seem to enjoy it. There was a lot of negative energy coming from next to her.

"Are you still there?"

The stranger startled, "Hm? Yes. I am."

"Good! I thought you had left because of my bad joke!"

They cackled, "No, you would have to make a terrible joke for me to leave! Haha."

Only now she realized that they were eating something.

"What are you eating?"

"Beetle-Cheese Poutine! No one in this world can make it better! Truly a shame..."

"Why is it a shame?"

They audibly shrugged, "...I will be leaving soon. To a place that I call home nowadays. I will miss Vvardenfell."

"What is your home like?"

"Beautiful, accepting, kind. Everyone is welcome."

"Can you describe it?"

"It's split in the middle. Swamp and forests on the one side and meadows and forests on the other. The trees have lots of colors."

"Like in the summerset isles, everyone talks about?"

"No, no. More colorful."

"Wow... I wish I could visit."

That statement immediately grabbed the stranger's attention.

"I have a question," they admitted.

"What is it?"

They knew their question would be controversial, "What is keeping you here? Friends? Family? You do not have to answer that."

She got awfully quiet.

"...I know Balmora well. It is the only thing I have ever known."

"Your parents have abandoned you, haven't they?"

The word "abandoned" rang in her ears.

"What? How-"

"I can see it in your eyes. Don't worry. My parents have also abandoned me long ago. I had no where else to go, so I made my own home. You can make it yours as well."

The person stood up from their seat and threw a few coins on the countertop.

"Where are you going?"

"Meet me at the Odai river this evening if you so desire to find a new home."

Back at home, Dreydena was trying to pack her things. She had no idea what time it was.

She took a deep breath. She had been alone for so long. She couldn't do much. She couldn't even have friends. Except one.

Dreydena just kept on going. She packed everything she had and went outside.

Her way to the Odai river was quite unsafe. A lot of stairs were in between the buildings that she had to traverse. Dreydena was already clumsy, but on top of that there was also now uncertainty. She often accidentally hit people's legs with her cane while she was walking down the stairs until... there were no stairs left.

She swung the cane in front of her, searching for any kind of sign where she was until she noticed something. The sound of water. The river. She started to walk straight forward with confidence. It got louder.

Dreydena made it to the river!

Now she only had to wait.

The young woman waited for quite some time. She sat down with her back to the river. She was starting to become impatient.

"Did they lie to me?" She thought to herself.

She played around with the straps of her bag.

A familiar voice with a familiar accent spoke up, "Did you wait long?"

Dreydena stood up in surprise.

"There you are, friend!"

Again, the stranger audibly smiled, "Are you ready?"

She held her bag close.

"Yes, I am."

Suddenly, Dreydena felt an odd breeze and heard a weird sound. As if something had opened.

The stranger softly took her hand, "May I?"

She nodded and they pulled her closer to the refreshing breeze.

"STOP IT AT THIS INSTANT!"

Dreydena startled at the sound of her best friend's voice.

"HOW DARE YOU TRICK SOMEONE WEAKER THAN YOU, SHEOGORATH?!"

"Sheogorath?"

Sheogorath slowly let go of Dreydena's hand.

"Dreydena, come to me! He is trying to trick you! No- he's trying to test you!"

"Is that true?"

The Daedric Prince denied that claim, "No! Listen here, girl! She does not want to be here! She feels useless here! I can give her a home and work that she will be able to do unlike here on Nirn!"

Dreydena turned to her friend, "Arvvana! Please! You can come with me if you want! This world doesn't need us!"

Arvvana sobbed, "You know that I cannot do that-!"

Sheogorath's whispers filled the air with spite and hatred, "Arvvana never felt different like you. She never has been a freak. An outsider. A nobody.... But I do and I have. That's why I made the Shivering Isles. Everyone there is different and unique like you and me, Dreydena."

They carefully wrapped his arms around Dreydena.

"No one here understands you."

It was as if Sheogorath's whispers were crawling into her ears like caterpillars.

"Please, Arvvana, come with us."

Dreydena reached out her hands towards her best friend. The best friend that she grew up with.

"I-I can't..."

Disappointed, she lowered her arms.

"See? I told you. She wouldn't feel welcome on the Shivering Isles, but you will, Dreydena. Come with me."

He let go of her and she took his hand, walking towards the portal.

"No! Dreydena!"

He grabbed her bag for her. As both Sheogorath and Dreydena left through the portal, Arvvana made a difficult decision. She watched as the portal got smaller and she ran towards it.

"DREYDENAA!!"

Just in time, she jumped through the portal and landed in a colorful meadow. She looked around to see flowers of every kind. Of every province. Even flowers she didn't know before.

Arvvana got up slowly and brushed off the dirt on her dress. She looked around in wonder. The trees looked like they were permanently in autumn, but... way more colorful. Suddenly she heard giggles ahead, so she made her way up a little hill.

On the foot of that hill was Sheogorath and Dreydena. Butterflies were circling around Dreydena and she chuckled as they gently brushed up against her from time to time.

The Daedric Prince watched happily while she was playing with the butterflies. One even landed on her nose and she completely stopped moving. Sheogorath himself chuckled at the adorable sight.

Only now Arvvana noticed that the portal behind her had vanished. She gasped, realizing that there was no way back home without Sheogorath's help.

Sheogorath heard the gasp and looked up on the hill.

"Oh, Dreydena, someone has changed her mind."

Dreydena spun in a circle.

"What? Who?"

Arvvana slowly walked down the hill towards them. She tried to think of something that she could trick the madgod with.

"I did... Sheogorath, I want to make a deal."

Sheogorath's elven ears twitched at that last sentence.

"What kind of deal?"

"If she isn't any happier here after... let us say... 3 weeks then we are allowed to go back home."

Dreydena raised her eyebrows, "But I don't want to leave..."

Sheogorath got incredibly serious in a few seconds. His smile had faded.

"There will not be a home to get back to.... Dreydena is the last one I wanted to pick up before..."

Both dunmer woman looked at them in confusion. Sheogorath fidgeted with their fingers.

"Before what?"

".... I had a vision that Baar Dau will fall at the start of this era."

Arvvana's mouth was agape.

"What? Is this another trick?!"

"After a certain... event on the isles here which happens every new era, I get a vision for the next era. I was not sure at first, but those images were quite... prominent. I can feel Vivec's power vanish by the second. I do not know how much longer they can hold Baar Dau before they..."

Sheogorath showed no signs of lying, so... it was true. Baar Dau will fall.

They inhaled sharply, "I got everyone I cared for out of Vvardenfell in merely months! One of my greatest achievements. They should be on the main land now."

"Why... us?"

"Dreydena was the last one to get my attention. It is rare to get my attention this easily. Arvvana, you are only here because Dreydena wanted you to. There is no way back now. I cannot let you leave."

Arvvana broke down and sank to her knees, sobbing.

"What is with my father?! You cannot do this!"

"I can and I will. Let me show you a place where you can stay until a new house is vacant."

"No! I will stay here until you open that portal again!"

Sheogorath looked at Arvvana. His eyes were drilling into her mind, but they only shrugged.

"Suit yourself."

The Daedric Prince slowly reached his hand out to Dreydena and she took it. Both walked to the nearest town as Arvvana wept into her hands. What will become of her sick father?! She cannot just let him die there! He would be all alone!

How cruel Sheogorath was. Fitting for a Daedric Prince.

[snelbz]

I'll Be Seeing You {6}

Nesta x Cassian, 1940′s AU

Collaboration with @tacmc.

Summary: After Cassian gets injured in the war, he’s taken to a war camp to be cared for until he gains enough strength to return to his battalion. While he’s there, he falls for a nurse that couldn’t care less about his title and doesn’t put up with his bullshit. Once he’s healed and the years pass by, he finds that there’s only one thing he wants to remember from the war, and she’s only a letter away.

Trigger Warnings: war

Chapters will be posted every Monday.

Word Count: 1696

IBSY Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

Nesta had no idea what had happened.

She was shaken awake in the middle of the night by one of the night nurses, quickly hurrying her out of the tent she shared with a few other nurses in hushed tones. She pulled her robe around her tighter, the nightgown she wore was perfectly fine with the warm fire crackling in the hearth, but in the crisp autumn air, it left her shivering.

As did the reason she’d been awakened in the middle of the night. One of her patients she’d been solely residing over had taken an unexpected turn at some point in the evening. Infection. Fever.

She felt shaky and hollow as she pushed through the tent flaps. She knew it made her a horrible person, but she couldn’t help but pray it was anyone except—

There were two nurses hovering beside Cassian’s cot and she thought she was going to be physically sick.

“What’s happened?” Nesta asked as she approached. It had been meant to have been firm, direct, but it came out shaky.

“He was sleeping peacefully, but then he started to stir and groan,” Claire explained. “When I came over he was drenched in sweat. I checked the gunshot wounds on his back and the burns. There were no bandages. I’m not sure how he had gotten them off—.”

A ringing in Nesta’s ears drowned out the rest of Claire’s words, but it didn’t matter what the nurse said, Nesta knew the cause of Cassian’s downfall.

It had been her.

She had been cleaning his wounds when the soldier had been rushed in earlier that morning, had left Cassian to help. When the soldier had died, Madja had ordered Nesta to go clean up and she had left the tent…

It had all happened so fast.

She had lost a life, and it distracted her from her thoughts, her further duties.

She had never gone back to finish cleaning and bandaging his wounds.

And, of course, Cassian had said nothing.

“I didn’t know what to—.”

Nesta cut Claire off, shaking her head to try and clear her thoughts. She knew she was to blame, but wouldn’t alert Claire to that knowledge. “He needs a dose of penicillin, maybe two, depending on how far the infection has spread.”

Claire nodded, the other two nurses having moved on to check on other patients, most of whom slept peacefully. When she kept standing there, nodding, Nesta snapped, “Now, please.”

She blinked and was off, hurrying to the medical cabinet in the center of the tent.

Leaning down over his bed, Nesta placed a hand on either side of his face. “Cassian?”

His skin was hot, clammy and he was covered in sweat. She swore quietly. He felt like he’d been lying in front of a furnace for a few hours.

His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t rise to consciousness.

Claire returned, a syringe in one hand and a glass bottle in the other. Nesta took it, surprised by how steady her hands were. She felt as if they should be as shaky as her breathing had become, but she quickly and efficiently administered the dose, holding a small piece of gauze over his arm where she’d stuck him.

“Should I… Would you like to go back to bed?” Claire asked. “I can watch him while I make my rounds.”

Nesta shook her head as she sat down in the chair next to the cot. “No, I— I need to stay with him.”

Claire hesitated, but nodded and excused herself.

Nesta would wait with him, would keep him company, because it was all her fault.

She told herself that was the only reason, but as she reached up to brush his damp hair back, she knew she was only fooling herself.

But fool herself, she would.

This was war. He was a soldier. Aside from being completely inappropriate, considering she was his nurse, one should never get involved with a soldier.

It often only led to heartbreak.

His face was flushed, even though his lips were bloodless, and he looked so…frail. Even when he’d first been brought in, bloody and burned, he hadn’t looked so helpless. Nesta couldn’t look away from him.

She knew no one else was around, knew the other nurses may have been nosy and curious, but they would give Nesta this privacy. And because of that she reached out and took his hand, gently holding it in hers.

Was it really just earlier in the day that he’d held her hand after coming to check on her after that poor soldier had passed? The thought, that he considered her feelings more important than his own healing, had her fingers tightening around his.

I could see myself loving a woman like you.

She tried not to think about the thrill his words sent through her, then or now. It was highly inappropriate, especially considering they barely knew each other. But there was just…something about him. She reached out with her free hand and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. Still clammy. Still burning up.

Again, his eyelids shifted, but they didn’t open. The penicillin would keep him down for a while.

She wouldn’t be sleeping, though. Not any time soon.

With a defeated sigh, Nesta took the book off of the small table by Cassian’s cot. He had read a little more that afternoon, it had seemed. He was nearing chapter six, and Nesta couldn’t wait to see his reaction to the coming chapters.

Especially in regards to his beloved Daisy.

She opened to the page he was on and took out the leather strap that marked it. It was old and worn, and she found herself wondering how long he’d had it, how long it had held his hair back. She wondered how long he’d had long hair. She assumed always. It was hard to imagine him with short hair.

It just wouldn’t look right.

He stirred on the cot before her, and Nesta’s eyes jerked up to him, but he still didn’t wake. She watched him for another moment, making sure he was sleeping peacefully, then looked back down at the scrap of leather in her hand.

It occurred to her how little she knew about him then. She knew about his mother and lack of a father, but he’d mentioned brothers. Were they blood or was it more in a camaraderie sort of way? And who were they? Did he love them the way she loved her own sisters?

Perhaps she had been selfish thus far, in asking so little about him. Usually the man never shut up, was always making sarcastic remarks with his raunchy humor, and now as he lay unconscious, she wanted him to speak.

She wanted to ask him questions.

He mentioned Velaris, but Nesta had only been there once as a child and didn’t remember much from it. She wanted to ask him about it, ask him what it was like growing up in the famous City of Starlight.

She wanted to ask about those brothers of his, if he had any other siblings, and how his mother, who had never married, survived it, living in the world that they did.

She wanted to ask if he’d ever had any pets, what his favorite subject was in school, if he’d ever broken a bone or climbed a tree for fun or been in an airplane.

She wanted to know where this scrap of leather came from that she had been fiddling in between her fingers for far too long.

Eventually, she rested her head against her own arm, still holding onto his fingers in one hand and clutching that strap of leather in the other. It didn’t take long before she was asleep herself.

A few hours later, a firm hand on her shoulder had her jolting awake. She sat up quickly, finding Madja standing behind her.

Standing, she cleared her throat, releasing Cassian’s hand, still holding onto that piece of leather. “Madja, I—.”

A gentle smile was on the old healer's face. “You should get changed, Nesta.”

Glancing down at her open robe and nightgown, Nesta blushed and nodded, before replacing the strap of leather in the book she’d leant to him.

The sun was up, but the chill in the air told her it hadn’t been for long. She hurried across the camp to the tent she shared with a few other nurses. Quickly changing, she tied a fresh apron around her waist and was surprised to find Madja standing outside the tent as she emerged, still braiding her hair back.

“Walk with me,” she said, and took off, not waiting to see if she followed.

Nesta couldn’t help but feel like she was a child about to be scolded.

“There is no rule stating you can’t have feelings for your patient, Nesta,” she said, glancing over at her.

Nesta blinked, not expecting her to be so blunt. She immediately went on the defensive. “I don’t have—.”

Madja gave her a look that told her the woman knew she was full of shit. She went on. “This isn’t a formal job. There is no rule book saying you can’t fraternize with others. He’s very handsome, and it’s clear he’s taken quite a shine to you. But remember where we are, what we’re doing. Why we’re here.”

Nesta nodded, hesitantly.

She knew.

The soldiers came in, they healed, and they left, went back to war.

And that’s exactly what Cassian would do, Nesta was fully aware of that fact. There was no romance, there was no happily ever after, not when it came to war.

“I just want you to be careful,” Madja continued, her voice gentle. “I have seen young women, time and time again, fall for men who did not come home. It is okay to feel for another, my dear, but you must remember the risks.”

The risks. It was a long list.

“I was not planning on anything happening between myself and the Major,” Nesta said, at last.

Madja’s smile was soft. “That’s always when it happens, Nesta. When no plans are made.”

[seasonofthewicth]

nobody does it like you do - act 2

Thank you so much for all your reactions to part 1! I hope you enjoy part two just as much :)

CW: mentions of past minor character death (incl. a pregnant woman)

7.3k - masterlist - ao3

--

Her first day of shooting isn’t great. It’s not bad by a long way, but it could have easily been better. They’re on location in a forest somewhere in the outskirts of Rifthold and she didn’t even know there were places in the city like this, she’d assumed it was all the sprawling metropolis of skyscrapers and crowded streets, but apparently not.

She’s cold. There’s a machine beating down torrents of fake rain on her and Fenrys where they stand opposite each other on the muddy path through the trees, they’re filming the scene where their characters first meet. Her feet are soggy inside the canvas trainers she’s wearing and they keep spraying water on her hair to keep the wet look running throughout all of the takes and she hates it. She’s uncomfortable and stiff but she comforts herself with the knowledge that Fenrys is the same if the frown he wears whenever the camera isn’t on him is anything to go by.

It helps, barely.

She keeps having to spit water out of her mouth between lines, she swears it never rains this heavily in real life but who is she to comment, and she watches Rowan’s lips twist in displeasure where he sits behind the camera every time she does it. Aelin’s not sure what else she’s supposed to do, he can sit there out of the line of the water all fine, but she can’t speak with her mouth full.

It can take time to fall into the natural rhythm of shooting a new project, even the shitty ones she’s done in the past have shown her that, but there’s something about the way Rowan watches her that prickles the back of her neck, his stare intense and heavy as he watches, that adds the pressure. She wants to show him that she can do this. She wants his approval.

She ignores the reasons why.

After they finish and Rowan has called cut she sulks back to her trailer, she’s only just managed to change out of her sodden clothes when there’s a knock at the door. It’s Fenrys, warm and dry now in his own change of clothes.

They’ve sort of become friends recently, after swapping numbers after the table read he had texted her first. The studio has put him in the same complex as her and they’ve shared a car back there a couple of times after some of their meetings. She likes him a lot actually, and while she knows his reputation of infamy with the ladies follows him around like a bad smell, she feels comfortable with him.

“That could have gone better,” he tells her as he flops down onto the two-seater sofa at the end of her trailer, the other half has a mound of clothes dumped on it that she hasn’t bothered to sort through yet.

She just shoots him a look that she hopes says tell me about it.

“Tomorrow will be better,” he tells her, reassuringly. He would know she supposes, he has far more experience than her.

“I hope so.”

“How’re you finding it so far, working with Rowan?” he asks, and she frowns, bristling at the fact that he somehow knows the worst question to ask already. Aelin doesn’t think she’s behaved weirdly around Rowan since the day at the table read, in fact she’s tried to avoid him where possible. Maybe that’s it.

“Fine,” she says, but that’s not quite true. It messes with her in a dangerous way every time she knows he’s watching her. She should be able to turn that part of her brain off during a scene, she trained for years to learn how to do that, but he gets to her. She’s working on it.

Fenrys laughs, seeing right through her.

“He’s not bad once you get to know him, the first time we worked together I thought he was a total dick.” She gives him the same look as before as she clears the clothes and sits down next to him.

“I swear he’s not that bad. He’s just-” Fenrys pauses, weighing her up with a look, and something that he takes in from the way she stands, gnawing on her lower lip with her hair still wet, has him saying; “He’s got a lot riding on this.”

“Why?”

It doesn’t feel like he has a lot riding on this, his last piece was nominated for the Oscars, how much higher than that can you get? It’s not like he’s in the same position as her, desperately clawing herself back to a place where she can be cast in a role and it not be followed by a stunned, oh?

She knows there were articles written when her casting was announced that were doubtful of her ability to do this movie, that questioned whether she’s up to the task and whether she’s good enough to be standing next to names like Fenrys and Rowan. Some of the articles were straight up mean, and she only knows that because she searched them up like a masochist when all the ones Elide sent over were far too nice.

A dark part of herself can’t help but fall prey to some of the headlines. The ones that throw around words like nepotism, the ones that question whether Aelin is talented enough to be where she is cut deeper than any knife, and only half of it is because she sometimes wonders the same. She should be better than that, but the reminder catches in her throat that she really does have a lot riding on this.

“It’s not really my place to say.”

That’s a load of shit, and she tells him so. He only shrugs, not willing to so openly gossip about their boss.

“How well do you know him exactly?” She’s fishing for any details, but it definitely could be passed off as casual curiosity.

“He directed my debut, we keep in touch every so often.” He’s nonchalant. “He asked me to audition for this.”

“Nice humble brag.”

Fenrys only flashes her his movie star grin, in combination with the wink he throws at her it’s almost an effort not to blush.

“He wanted you cast, you know?” That she didn’t know, but it’s nice to hear.

“Why? He doesn’t know me.”

“You’re hard work, you know?” He’s joking but it doesn’t sit quite right. She knows it’s true. “Come with us tonight. There's a group of us getting dinner, and you can ask him yourself.”

It’s an olive branch. She knows it’s obvious to everyone that she’s uncomfortable, still hasn’t quite found her feet on set after taking such a break, and it’s one that she’s grateful for. No matter how closed off she knows she still seems to them.

“Okay,” she says and Fenrys’ smile is genuine and a part of her lifts, it’s a start.

They share a car to the restaurant and he fills the journey with easy chatter. She appreciates it because she feels really fucking rusty. It’s been a while since she spoke to anyone outside of her immediate circle of friends and family, and it’s always been easy with them. This is different, but not unwelcome.

Sometimes she worries that, as much as they love her, Aedion, Lysandra and Elide are inclined to tread lightly around her. She’d like to think that she’s not that fragile, that she could take the full front of their humour and teasing like she used to, but then remembers when Fenrys’ joke fell flat for her in the trailer and she thinks again.

Either way, the cast and crew here don’t treat her like she’s broken, or even breakable, and it’s refreshing.

Fenrys leads the way into the restaurant, and there’s definitely paparazzi down the street snapping away at them as they cross the short distance from the car to the door. She tries to ignore it, she’ll text Elide once they’re done here, even though Elide will probably be overjoyed. It’s probably (definitely) easier to publicise your talent when she’s out there doing things with other famous people compared to staying inside her home alone.

Fenrys greets the staff on the door and they lead them through the restaurant to a staircase at the back of the room and it leads up to a private space with only one table. Right, privacy. Some of these guys are proper celebrities.

They’re the last ones there, and there’s two seats left at the table. Manon is here, so is Rowan and one of the executive producers who she thinks is called Gavriel.

“Alright guys, you all know Aelin,” Fenrys says and she smiles as they greet her.

Fenrys holds a chair out for her, the one next to Rowan, and she slides into it as he takes the one on her other side.

Rowan offers her a quirk of his lips, one she returns as she takes him in. He’s wearing short sleeves this time and she gets a good look at the tattoo snaking the whole way down his left arm. It’s in the Old Language and she can’t read it, even though her father had spent hours trying to teach her when she was a kid, but the lettering is beautiful and neat. She wants to reach out and touch, to trace the lines that roll down his golden skin.

She doesn’t. Obviously.

A waiter comes over to take their drink orders, Fenrys gets a beer, Manon and Gavriel opt for wine, but Rowan asks for an orange juice. He’s not drinking either and she wonders if it’s related to the reason he needs this movie to go well. So she’s nosy? So what?

She sits back and observes as the conversation flows, laughing along at the easy banter that flows between the three men and the sarcastic quips Manon throws in. Fenrys clearly understated his relationship with Rowan, they seem tight and have a clear fondness for one another. It’s easy to slot herself in as the night progresses, snarking with Manon and joining in with the general light-hearted mockery of Fenrys.

She thinks maybe so far she’s got Rowan wrong.

Tonight he’s quick-witted and charming, and he makes his best effort to include her in the conversation which she appreciates. It’s a contrast to the dark and teasing side of him she’s seen so far in the hallway and the table read. Maybe he’s decided to just start again, pretend they never met before she was cast, and she can do that too.

“So, Aelin.” Manon turns the spotlight to her after a while. “Tell us the scoop. I’ve not seen you in anything for a while.”

It’s not a nasty question, Aelin can just tell from the way she asks it, nothing more than genuine curiosity lies in her tone even if the phrasing is somewhat harsh. Manon might not be the bubbliest of characters, she’s blunt and doesn’t beat around the bush, but she’s not unkind, and Aelin doubts if she knew the truth she’d ask that question in such a way.

Elide managed to keep the worst of her… career break? One could phrase it more like breakdown, out of the limelight. She somehow managed to keep the worst of it hidden, and Aelin will owe her that for the rest of her life.

All the world knows is that Sam was murdered when they were both still newbies to their respective industries, neither of them had had their big break yet, and after that she took a break. For three years.

She remembers the headlines from the time, most were in smaller magazines, Sam wasn’t famous enough to make the front pages. Her mouth tastes like bile.

Singer-Songwriter Sam Cortland, 20, murdered in random street attack in Orynth, girlfriend Aelin Ashryver unharmed and working with police to identify suspect.

No one knows she knelt there in his blood begging for him to open his eyes, not even Aedion, or Lysandra or Elide, and she blinks back the image now. Her hands are curled into fists below the table and she forces herself to uncurl them and lay them flat against her jeans.

“Yeah,” she says after clearing her throat. “I took a break from it all for a few years, but I’m back now obviously and really excited for it.”

Manon nods and Gavriel raises a glass. He’s been nothing but kind to her all night. He kind of reminds her of her father, though he’s not that old, probably not even forty yet. He’s softly spoken and counters each snarky comment from Fenrys or Manon with something softer but no less amusing.

“Good to hear,” Fenrys says with a grin, clinking his glass against Gavriel’s.

The way Rowan watches her as he raises his own glass in a toast to her, careful and without speaking, tells her he knows. At least the basics about Sam, and it seems like maybe he did google her just like she joked back at the table read.

Their meals arrive then, mercifully taking the attention away from her. She needs to find a better way to deal with the attention than shutting down, especially if this film is going to be as big as everyone thinks it will be. She should call her therapist.

She will.

Eventually.

They leave the restaurant not long after, Fenrys covering the bill, emphasising that this was a celebration and an initiation for Aelin. She almost blushes for some unknown reason at his words, but she likes it. It sounds good. Like she really is back, or at least will be.

They each give her their numbers, and she likes the way he’s in her phone now as Rowan rather than Rowan Whitethorn, it feels like he’s not just someone from work. Not just her boss.

They each say goodbye and share a series of embraces, ignoring the small group of paparazzi that follow, desperate for any kind of incriminating image of any of the five of them. It’s clear that most of them are here for Fenrys, but she still makes sure to keep her expression clear and guarded as Rowan wraps her into a one-armed hug when they leave. It’s not just for the paparazzi.

Back in her apartment, when she’s tucked up in bed knowing she should be asleep, she can’t stop herself from googling him. She’s honestly surprised she’s lasted this long.

The first few news articles to come up are all about the movie and she scrolls past them, instead pulling up his Wikipedia page and scrolling straight to the personal life section. Maybe this is the weirdest way anyone’s ever got to know a friend, but she’s intrigued and still slightly flustered by him so it will do.

The section on his personal life is relatively bare, and it doesn’t surprise her. His Instagram account alone told her pretty explicitly that he’s a private kind of guy. She almost scrolls away after the first few lines, they don’t give her much information other than the college he went to and the languages he speaks, but she reads the final few lines of the section anyway.

In March 2018 Whitethorn’s fiance, Lyria Woods, passed away as the result of a road traffic accident. The driver of the other vehicle was found to be under the influence of alcohol at the time of the accident and was later sentenced to 6 years in prison for death by dangerous driving. Woods was 12 weeks pregnant with their child at the time of the accident.

Only a couple of weeks after the Oscars that she and Lysandra watched. She does the maths and realises this is his first film since then and thinks she knows what Fenrys meant.

Fucking shit.

Her second day of shooting goes better than the first, just as Fenrys said it would.

She’s more relaxed when she crosses the set from her trailer with a coffee in hand and she thinks she knows her place a little better now, even after only one night spent with the others.

She lies back while her make up is done, chatting to the make-up artist instead of sitting silently like the day before, and she’s almost ready for the discomfort that her wet hair will bring. The weather adds to the atmosphere of the film, dark and dreary and moody, and she gets why they’re doing it, but it still sucks.

Fenrys is ready when she gets there, and while she’s not avoiding Rowan today after finding out about his… past, she just finds it difficult to look him in the eye knowing what she does. He probably wouldn’t be surprised that she knew, if it’s on Wikipedia it’s public knowledge and they have made jokes about googling each other, but she feels weird in a way that she didn’t learn it from him. It feels intrusive, or invasive, to find out about something like that through Wikipedia.

But even though they bonded somewhat last night, and he greeted her this morning with an easy hey, they’re still not close. No matter that she thinks she might want them to be. She’s trying again to ignore the way she feels drawn to him, the way her eyes seek him out without her permission.

She knows she kills the take. Knows it from the high five Fenrys slaps against her palm once Rowan’s called cut and from the swift nod he offers her when she glances towards him.

There seem to be two Rowan’s too, there’s the award winning director Rowan Whitethorn, and then just Rowan.

Rowan Whitethorn is cool and calculating and distant, quiet while he watches their scene from his place behind the camera, the big black headphones he uses pushed down around his neck. His eyes are as sharp as a hawk’s while he watches for all the minute details of their expressions and any improvements they could make. He doesn’t give her that many she’s pleased to note.

The way he instructs them is impressive, with clear directions and thoughtful analyses. She’s been here two days and she knows how he got the Oscar nomination, he’s scarily intelligent and seems to know exactly what’s off about a performance before she figures it out herself.

The other side to him, the side that is just Rowan is…

Just Rowan is the one she likes more.

She suspects the smile he gives her later, after they’ve nailed the bulk of the scene in one take and she’s being twirled around by Fenrys, comes from him.

She has two full days off in a row, and she decides the best use of her time is to go and stay with Aedion and Lysandra. Fenrys isn’t free, and the reason she is is that he has a load of solo scenes to shoot, and she doesn’t envy him at all.

Lysandra is ecstatic when she announces via a group text to her and Aedion that she’ll be at their house for lunchtime, and she loves it, but it makes her feel a little guilty. That she’s let it get to the point when her friend reacts like that at her promise of a visit is quite frankly appalling, but she finally feels as if she’s taken the first step. She’s on the bottom rung of the ladder, and it’s taken her a while, but she’s there now.

Aedion and Lysandra live in a disgustingly big house in a gated part of the suburbs, and she knows the house isn’t exactly what they would have chosen in an ideal world, it’s too big and garish and grey, but there are gates by the entrance and 24 hour security.

It still messes with her head that Aedion is that famous. Aedion. Her gangly cousin, always too tall for his own good, who used to pull her hair when they were kids and sneak her extra helpings of cake at family parties before her parents divorced. She doesn’t know that much about football, so little in fact that her dad and Aedion teased her relentlessly for years, but everyone tells her he’s good.

Like really good.

The salary he gets from the Ravens is more than enough proof.

She rings their front door bell and she can hear Lysandra’s quick steps before the big wooden door is pulled open.

Her friend is glowing. Her dark hair falls into waves near the end and her staggeringly beautiful face is free of any make-up and unblemished and dewy. She’s had time to get over the insecurities that come from being friends with Lysandra so it barely phases her as she wraps her arms around her friend.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers into Lysandra’s hair. It smells like coconut and citrus and just Lysandra.

“I missed you too. So much,” Lysandra sighs as she pulls back, dragging Aelin into the house and shutting the door.

Their hallway is grand and open but there’s a pile of their shoes by the wall and a rack of coats that make it feel more homely. There are framed photos carefully arranged on the sideboard in the entry way that show the two of them with their whole family and all of their friends.

There’s one on there of Aelin and Lysandra at eighteen, their arms thrown tightly around each other while they grin massive, excited smiles at the camera, or more likely Elide behind it. She remembers the day it was taken, Lysandra had signed to her first agency and arranged to move to Rifthold, and they had taken her out to celebrate.

It was around the same time she signed for her first movie, a tiny role with two lines and twenty seconds of screen time but it got the ball rolling with her first proper acting credit, and she’ll never forget it.

A head of golden hair pokes around the kitchen doorway at the end of the hall and she lets her cousin sweep her up into a hug, swinging her up and around so her feet dangle above the floor.

“Alien, we’ve missed you.”

A stupid nickname from when they were young, the kind of young where he thought it was hilarious to replace her name with an extraterrestrial, but it only makes her smile now, squeezing her cousin tight before he puts her back down.

“Yeah, I bet you’ve been lost without me.” She beams at them, taking a moment to soak in how it feels to be with them even as Aedion rolls his eyes. “I’ve missed you both too.”

“Lunch is ready, come on,” Aedion tells her as he takes her case and drags it through the house, leaving it by the bottom of the stairs. It’s then that she spots the frilly pink apron tied around his waist.

“Alright,” she laughs. “I can’t wait to try what the domestic goddess has in store for us.”

Peals of laughter burst out of Lysandra and she grins back at her, forever grateful that they managed to keep their relationship with each other from ever impacting on their relationship with Aelin. At first she had been worried that Aedion and Lysandra would become AedionAndLysandra and that she wouldn’t have a place left with them, but she needn’t have worried, and they worked too well together for Aelin to have ever wished for anything different.

“Gods, shut up,” he mutters, slinging an arm around her shoulders and leading her to the kitchen. “So annoying, both of you.”

She grins as she hears Lysandra smack an overly dramatic kiss to his cheek.

Aedion’s a surprisingly good cook, the lunch he’s made is tasty despite being carefully planned to fit into both his and Lysandra’s strict meal plans. If they’re the cost needed to be able to live in a house like this, Aelin doesn’t want it.

“So,” Aedion says after he’s finished chewing a mouthful. “How are things going?”

He asks it with a gentle kind of sensitivity that she understands what he’s really asking. She knows it’s code for are you still sober? but she also knows he hasn’t asked it because he doubts her. Aedion and Lysandra have always been in her corner, even in her darkest moments they were there.

She never wants to put them through anything like that ever again. Never wants them to experience anything as terrifying as the last night she ever touched a drug. That night, almost a year ago now, will forever be the bottom of her pit. She doesn’t remember much of it, other than the devastation on Aedion’s face as he carried her out of the men’s toilets of a seedy nightclub in Perranth. The way he’d bitten his lip as he picked her up off the sticky floor, pulling the hem of her dress down to cover her underwear where it had ridden up.

The thought makes her sick.

He’d had to skip a game, leading to a bollocking from his coach, but he’d done it for her. Had carried her out of the club and into a car, waiting to take them back to his house. Lysandra had stroked her hair where she lay on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor while Aedion called a doctor to the house. Even through his panic he had thought of her and how little she would want it publicised that she’d been pulled out of a club, off her fucking rocker on whatever substance she’d been given by the lowlives she had fallen in with. She’s really, really lucky that for once Aedion hadn’t been followed by paparazzi.

She takes a sip of her sparkling water before she answers, it feels like all she ever drinks these days and it tastes like shit but it’s worth it if she never reverts back to where she was.

“I’m good.” She’s almost surprised to find that it’s true. “I’m feeling much better.”

She can barely look at them, can barely take the level of subdued joy on their faces.

“We’re glad Aelin, really glad.” Lysandra’s voice is sincere.

“So, how’s the new project going?” Aedion asks her, sensing her discomfort almost immediately.

“That’s good too actually.” It is. It feels good to have something positive to focus on, something that she feels is productive and worth doing. “It’s nice to be back and be busy even if the morning shoots begin disgustingly early. It’s good to be on set, surrounded by it all again and to remember that I can actually do this.”

She stabs her fork through a piece of tomato a little aggressively as she finishes and the look Lysandra shoots her tells her she’s not impressed with the self-deprecation but that she’ll let it slide for now.

“And Fenrys Moonbeam, is he really that good looking in real life?”

Aelin laughs. “More actually, sometimes it's too much.”

“Nice,” Lysandra nods appreciatively.

“Is he alright though?” Ever the overprotective older brother figure, she expected some version of this question from Aedion.

“He’s great. He’s hilarious and it really helps on the long days,” she says before taking her next bite.

“And Rowan Whitethorn’s directing isn’t he? What’s he like?”

Aelin blinks and finishes chewing slowly. “He’s… fine.”

She knows she’s fucked it when Aedion and Lysandra share a look, matching smirks beginning on each of their faces.

“Fine,” Lysandra repeats. “What exactly does fine mean Aelin?”

She purses her lips. “He’s a great director.”

Lysandra rolls her eyes. “And?”

She could probably lie here, they’d probably let it slide if she said some bullshit about how they’ve not spoken much and how she barely knows him, but she honestly needs to talk to someone about this. You know, to set her straight.

“And he’s really hot.”

She’s blushing as Lysandra laughs and Aedion chuckles.

“You’ve got a crush,” Lysandra sing-songs, and when she doesn't respond she says, “Have you got a picture of him? I don’t think I actually know what he looks like.”

She can’t blame Lysandra for that, she’s still kicking herself for not recognising him that day in the hallway, but he was only on screen for a few seconds at the Oscars and it wasn’t long after Sam so it wasn’t like she was paying attention in that way. She still thinks she should have noticed.

She pulls her phone out to find the only picture she has on there with Rowan. She had only taken it this week when they were eating breakfast with Fenrys one morning, in one of the tents that had been set up for them to sit in between takes, and Fenrys had pulled his phone out to snap a photo of her for his Instagram story.

She’d been wrapped up in one of the huge parkas they’re given for the times in between scenes holding her croissant high up in the air when he’d taken it. He’d captioned it she could have dropped her croissant and tagged her, and she’d gained a good few thousand followers. She’s almost at a million and they’re only a couple of weeks into shooting.

She had taken one of him in response and then spun around to force Rowan into a selfie with her, he’d protested but she’d pouted until he relented, grumbling something about actors that she knew he didn’t mean. She didn’t post it anywhere, she kept it to herself and she can’t lie, she’s looked at it way too many times since.

She’s smiling a wide smile, cheeks stuffed full of her croissant and it’s really kind of gross, but the small smile on Rowan’s face makes it bearable. More than bearable, she has to resist the temptation to make it her lock screen because that would be weird.

She remembers the heat of his chest where he had stood behind her to lean down so their faces were level, the hand he rested on her shoulder to steady himself and the way his fingers had brushed against her neck in the lightest caress.

She hands the phone over to Lysandra and wants to pull it back almost immediately.

It’s not that she’s embarrassed or whatever, even if they think it’s a bad idea they’d let her down gently, it's just that their opinion matters to her a lot. And while they haven’t exactly approved of her string of random hookups in the years since Sam, they’ve never tried to comment on it other than to check she’s in a good place with it, but she knows they’re waiting for the next person she sees seriously.

There’s a fairly large part of her that thinks her first relationship since Sam shouldn’t be with her boss. And that fucks her up a bit, because since when was she considering a relationship with him?

“Oh yeah,” Lysandra says, scaring away the intrusive thought and raising one perfectly arched eyebrow. “He’s hot alright.”

Aedion nods along, peering over Lysandra’s shoulder. Lysandra’s eyes are far too knowing when she looks back up at Aelin and passes the phone over. She doesn’t say a word before locking the phone and sliding it back into her pocket.

“You’ll have to invite us to set sometime.” Lysandra is sneaky but not subtle.

“I will,” she agrees.

The next week flies by, she shoots every single day but one, and she’s far too exhausted each night to do anything other than scrounge up a measly meal that can be pulled together from her cupboard basics and the limited vegetables in her fridge before falling straight asleep. They’ve made good progress so far, and she knows it's going to be good, but she’s tired.

She’s seen a lot more of the process outside of her own character by now too, and she’s amazed, but not surprised, when she persuades one of the crew to let her watch back one of Fenrys’ solo scenes from the previous week. He’s a phenomenal actor, that much is clear, but she had allowed herself to get caught up in Fenrys as her friend, the happy and funny guy she spends her time with, forgetting the talented and driven lead actor of their movie.

Not that she can forget it in the scenes they share, but she’s mostly concentrating on the emotions her character is going through, and responding to what Fenrys gives her. It almost feels too natural for him, and she forgets that it takes work.

His text meets her at lunchtime on the Sunday they both have off, when she’s still in her pyjamas on the couch, debating whether to start a new series or watch the latest cheesy rom-com that Netflix has released.

She auditioned for one of them a couple of years ago, and she’s far enough past the bitterness that comes with not getting the role that she could enjoy it. Maybe a little, cynical part of herself thinks she’s glad she didn’t get it. What she has now is far better. She’s being a snob, but she straight up doesn’t care. It’s not like anyone else is here to judge her.

Fancy coming to Rowan’s to watch the game? I’m leaving in 20 his text reads.

She didn’t plan on doing anything today, but the invitation sparks something in her, and she’s never been to Rowan’s place before. The studio put him in a house about thirty minutes from set, and she’s curious. How much luxury does the big name director get compared to what she and Fenrys have got? She’s lucky really, that Dorian managed to negotiate the same for her as they offered Fenrys.

rowan’s??? She replies, followed by what game????

She gets up off the couch, putting the lid on the tub of yoghurt she was tucking into with a spoon and walking through to the kitchen to throw it back into the fridge.

Tall, grumpy guy that bosses us around all the time comes through a minute later and she grins at her phone at the description. It’s followed up by Ravens v Panthers.

She taps out, getting changed will be ready in 15 and he replies with three smiling emojis.

She doesn’t think it will be anything fancy if her impromptu invitation is anything to go by so she only swaps her pyjama bottoms with tiny cartoon sheep down the legs for a pair of black leggings and throws a sweatshirt over her oversized t-shirt.

Manon is there when they get there, sprawled across the two seater sofa at the far side of Rowan’s living room, and she gives them both a wave when they enter the room. The house is a pretty modest, two-up two-down in a sweet neighbourhood and it’s cosy inside with relatively modern decor. She doesn’t know for sure whether or not that fits Rowan, but she feels like it does.

He doesn’t let them in, Fenrys swings the door open and marches in like it’s his own place and she wonders how much he and Rowan have hung out, or whether that’s just him. Rowan appears in the doorway about a minute after they come in, a bowl of snacks in his hand that she thinks could be popcorn and he puts it down before coming over to wrap Fenrys in a hug. They slap each other on the back in the way that guys do before pulling back.

Aelin stands at Fenrys’ side watching the exchange, unsure whether to greet Rowan or just take a seat, and once they’re done he seems to regard her with the same sort of uncertainty. Fenrys darts around Rowan to throw himself onto the other sofa and she doesn’t give herself long enough to doubt her decision before she opens her arms and steps towards him.

“Hey,” he says simply as he wraps her into a brief hug. “Thanks for coming.”

She wraps her arms around his own broad shoulders, and it feels nice. He’s warm and strong beneath her hands and the way his arms loop around her waist, so far his hands reach back around to her stomach, gets her in a way that she really doesn’t need to think about. It feels really good pressed up against him like that.

“Hey,” she breathes as he pulls back, and she knows he sees the blush on her cheeks. She’s not fifteen, she really needs to sort herself out. “Thanks for having us.”

“Of course, make yourself at home.” He gives her another half smile, offering a flash of his straight, white teeth, and again she’s struck by him. That his place is behind the camera is a crime. “I’ve got more snacks and drinks in the kitchen if you want.”

“Beer?” Fenrys asks her, already heading to a door that she assumes leads to the kitchen.

She shakes her head, “do you have sparkling water?” She directs the question to Rowan who nods.

He doesn’t have to speak before Fenrys says “on it,” and leaves the room.

She assesses the seating choices left in the room, there’s a cream two-seater sofa opposite where Manon lies, and that’s probably her best bet, but Rowan has already taken his seat on it, an ankle crossed over a knee as he settles into the cushions. There’s plenty of room to sit by him and not touch, and she weighs it up against having to ask Manon to move.

She’s friendly with the girl, but still feels slightly intimidated by the calculating and sarcastic blonde despite the fact that she’s a few years younger than Aelin herself, so maybe Rowan is the safer choice.

Fenrys comes back into the room just as she takes her seat.

“Move your feet, Blackbeak,” he demands as he hands her a glass of sparkling water, it’s chilled with a couple of cubes of ice and she appreciates it.

Manon lifts her legs for Fenrys to sit, but plops her legs back down across his lap immediately and sticks her tongue out at him as she does. Aelin feels herself smile at the display, and the fact that she’s included in this circle of friends. She hasn’t really made an effort with anyone new since Sam, the only people she’s really spoken to are Elide, Lysandra and Aedion, and they were all there for her before Sam. It feels really damn good.

She really, really, doesn’t understand the rules of football, but it’s easy enough to cheer along when the others do and laugh at their outrage when something doesn’t go their way. It’s the most animated she’s seen Rowan so far, and she’s not quite sure which way their allegiances lie, but it’s probably with the Ravens being in Rifthold and all, and she knows her own is.

Everytime Aedion gets the ball or is shown on screen she can’t hold back the cheers. She’s proud of him and she knows how hard he works to be as good as he is, and even knowing as little as she does, it's special to watch him excel.

Rowan and Fenrys both seem a little starstruck that he’s her cousin, to her he’s just Aedion and they’re the real, scary celebrities, but they gush about him like starstruck little boys.

“And you were at his house last weekend?” Fenrys cries, almost outraged that this is the first he’s ever heard of it, but honestly? They’re both Ashryvers; it’s not like it's a secret.

“Yes,” she laughs. “He’s basically like my brother.”

“Gods, Aelin.” He sounds almost pained that she hasn’t brought this up before. “You've been holding out on us! Please give me his number or introduce me or something.”

“Sorry.” She laughs again and throws a smile to Rowan that he returns with another quirk of his lips. “Invite me earlier next time and I’ll ask him to sort a box for us at the stadium.”

“Seriously?” Even Rowan sounds awed now.

“Yeah, just let me know,” she says. “It’s no big deal.”

It really wouldn't be, Aedion has been telling her for years to invite any friends she wants to games, she would just need some friends outside of him, Lysandra and Elide first.

“It’s definitely a big deal,” he says, watching her with a smirk still playing on his lips.

She shrugs. “Just make sure you text me early next time.”

“Oh, I will,” he says, and she has to look away from him. The way his voice curves around the words, all low and intense, is definitely about more than just the game.

She tries to pass it off as just looking to where Fenrys is cheering loudly at the next play, but Manon is there again, looking at her with such a knowing expression that she immediately focuses back on the TV.

At half time she needs to use the bathroom and Rowan gives her a quick rundown of the layout of the house. She’s quick to do her thing and runs by the kitchen afterwards to grab a refill of her drink and find something to eat.

Rowan had told them all to help themselves, explaining that he felt they had as much right as he to poke through the cupboards in the only just filled rental property and she gets it. The places the studio rent out for them are nice enough, and she’s more than grateful that they do, but it’s never quite home. Even if her home is somewhat impersonal, it’s still home.

She’s on her tiptoes, scanning through the relatively well stocked cupboards on the hunt for anything chocolate, when someone enters the kitchen behind her.

“I know I said help yourselves, but you’re going to eat me out of house and home at this rate.”

It’s Rowan, and he leans against the doorframe as he watches her startle and spin to face him, his legs are crossed at the ankles and his arms are folded over his chest. The pose highlights his powerful arms that she wants to be wrapped up in again and he looks really good in the dim lighting of the kitchen. It bounces off the lines of his tattoo, shining and highlighting the swirls that she can barely look away. She wants to ask what it means.

Aelin scoffs and pushes the cupboard door shut gently, they’re not eating that much and if they are it’s definitely not her, Fenrys and Manon are another story.

“There’s nothing stopping you from kicking us all out,” she says and he laughs, shaking his head.

He tilts his head to the side, his gaze picking her apart by the second before he says “maybe not all of you.”

His words and the way he shifts in the doorway as his eyes run her up and down gives her the confidence to bite her lip and look up at him through her lashes. He pushes off the door frame and comes to lean against the counter by her side.

He opens a cupboard door on her other side and rummages through a shelf before handing her a foil packet.

“I have a feeling this is what you were after.”

She accepts the chocolate and tucks it onto the counter at her side as she mirrors him and leans against it too.

“Unsurprisingly, you’d be correct.”

He presses his lips together before his lips twist again, it’s the same expression from before that she knows means he wants to smile but he can’t quite commit, and she feels her body loosen like she wants to lean forward to press into him. She doesn’t though.

What she does instead is take a sharp breath and a step back. “Thanks.” She waves the bar of chocolate in the air before stepping around him and making her way back into the living room, forcing her steps to seem calm and collected as she feels his gaze heavy on her back.

“Anytime.” His words follow her out of the room, they’re a promise.

Luckily, Fenrys and Manon both ignore it when Rowan follows her and retakes his place next to her.

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

hello! i was wondering if you could write the following request; you are a member of the Brotherhood, the most dangerous assassins league of Middle Earth. To say that the Company of Thorin Oakenshield is both impressed and intimidated is an understatement.

The Company/Reader: Killer Good Looks pt.1

Trigger Warnings: Referenced assault and child abuse, murder

----

To say you're an excellent fighter would be a gross understatement.

You're the very definition of a rogue; you like shiny things, you're stealthy, cunning, persuasive, what are we missing...? Oh! And you're also an infamous deadly assassin for hire, and you get hired alright.

You're wanted (in more ways than one), for people are always looking for someone to fulfill their dirty deeds for them.

Almost everything is on the table with you; you'll steal things for people (and yourself), kill if the price is right, infiltrate and lie, and many other things, however, there are some things off limits.

For example, you won't kill kids. You never have and you never will, you flat out refuse; you also don't sell yourself to others for pleasure or other things of inappropriate nature; and, most importantly of all, you don't kill those whom you have a relationship with (meaning you don't kill friends, though those are few and far between).

When you were but a child your parents sold you off to put bread on their table, and you knew nothing but torment from that moment on.

For months the lady's husband would sneak into your rooms at night, and she would always pretend not to notice; she took to releasing her frustrations out on you under the false pretense that you were an issue, beating you, berating you, yelling, abusing; they were horrible people taking advantage of a 10 year old child in every way imaginable.

You felt no remorse when you finally gathered the courage to slit their throats one night, and to this day you still don't.

The news of your deeds spread quickly, for they proved to be quite shocking and a wonderful topic for conversation.

A mere child servant manages to kill their masters unseen and unheard, escaping into the night never to be seen again? That would catch anyones attention. And it certainly caught the attention of The Brotherhood.

They found you, took you in, and honed your sloppy skills to make you into the perfect, lethal weapon.

You've killed more people than you can count, stolen more than even the richest man has, and lied to everyone you've ever met at least once.

It's safe to say that you're not exactly a stand up citizen.

Your name, as well as the name of the organization who taught you all you know, is well known throughout Middle Earth which is why you were, ultimately, employed to assist and protect the line of Durin in their journey to reclaim Erebor...

Except, unbeknownst to them, you have ulterior orders from The Brotherhood regarding the operation.

Once the dragon is either confirmed dead or slain and the mountain is reclaimed, you are to kill the Durin's (and anyone else who stands in your way) and claim the mountain for The Brotherhood.

When you were first given this assignment you had no qualms with it.

Yes, dwarfs are strong, brave, and resilient, but you are fast, intelligent, and one of the best fighters in the organization because of your early start and ability to disconnect yourself from almost every situation. Also, you don't know them, any of them, and you've never had trouble killing royal, powerful people before.

It was supposed to be easy.

You joined the group in a cute little place called The Shire in a hobbit hole belonging to one Bilbo Baggins, and when you met everyone you figured that killing them would be easy, but as time went on you began to forget about your mission.

Everything started out simple. You didn't talk much and they stayed away from you for the most part; partially out of intimidation, but also from reservations on disturbing you.

You're a private person, and they'd hate to make you dislike them by being nosy or prying.

Gandalf is the only one who knows of your past, but even knowing who you truly are, he never for a second suspected what your true purpose was.

It's around the time you all leave Rivendell and return to the road when things start to change.

Thorin wanted to keep a schedule and reach the Misty Mountains before the end of the 4th week, and halfway into the 4th, you're already there are the entrance to the mountain pass.

Because the group makes such excellent time Thorin chooses to reward the group with a day and night full of rest to spend restocking supplies, regrouping, and relaxing, which is something that benefits you all greatly.

By this point, you've worked up enough 'trust' to actually sleep in short bursts around them, and you take full advantage of this day of rest to regain your strength.

At some point during the night you manage to fall asleep, and hen you wake you find that you managed to pass out for a good 4 hours.

The very first thing you notice is Dwalin sitting not far from you, and the blanket draped over your resting form.

To say you're taken off guard would be an understatement, for you never expected to be treated with such tenderness (or at least, tenderness by your definition considering the life you've lead).

"Dwalin...?" You call after a time of looking ahead, wanting to find out his motivations.

His gaze snaps over to you and a small, greeting smile falls upon his lips, "Good evening. It is mid-night, I'm sure you'd like to know."

You glance briefly up at the sky and observe the position of the moon and stars and find that he's correct, then your gaze returns to his face. "I see. What are you doing over here, though?"

The balding dwarf looks a tad more sheepish when you ask your question, and his voice contains slight embarrassment, "Well, we know you don't much like sleeping around us, or in general, so I thought that keeping watch here may help you feel even a bit safer."

Those words shock you to your very core.

"You'll always be safe with us, you should know. You protect us in waking, so the least we can do is return the favor in sleeping."

Any and all responses that come to your mind in this moment seem inadequate in comparison to his declaration, so you're left sitting there looking at him with a blank, yet dumbfounded stare.

"You needn't say anything in response. I just thought you should know." Another smile graces upon his lips, and then his attention turns back out towards the darkened tree line surrounding the mini camp in a half circle. "Sleep more if the desire is to suddenly strike you."

And, for some odd reason, you do.

---

For the first time in what has to be years, you sleep through the night and do not wake again until the sun beckons you to do so.

When the first light shines through the trees and makes the forest sparkle with morning magic, you arise and find that a new dwarf, Ori, has taken the place of Dwalin.

A feeling, one that you can't identify, rises within you, and you find yourself unable to handle it.

"Ori." You greet curtly, "I am going to depart for a time. Expect me back in 20 minutes."

The young dwarf looks up at you and nods shallowly, not even entertaining the thought that you would need an escort. "Alright. Get back safely."

His words linger with you after you leave, for the act of being cared for is alien to you.

When was the last time someone genuinely cared for your well-being and not just what they would lose if you were to perish? When was the last time someone thought of you as a person who could be harmed instead of a weapon that maybe tarnished every-so-often?

These thoughts plague your mind as you go to search the game traps you lay around the camp the morning before, and you find that the prize is well worth the early journey.

3 rabbits, 2 squirrels, and a wild hog around 2 feet long and a foot wide. The hog you caught along the way, actually. It had been sniffing around one of the game traps you sent (the trap wouldn't have been strong enough to hold it anyways), and you wasted no time in throwing a dagger straight into its' head.

You string up the rabbits into a line of rope and carry the hog over your shoulders (it's really heavy, so you made sure to evenly distribute the weight), and then you head straight for the group with your prizes in hand.

When you enter the clearing you're noticed immediately, for the game hanging from your body draw a lot of attention.

"Odin's beard!" Gloin exclaims, jumping up from his spot once his eyes fall upon you, "Look at all of that!"

All eyes are on you as soon as the red-haired dwarf alerts them to your presence, but you maintain a mask of nothing even despite your discomfort with being the center of attention.

"Where did you get all that?" Fili calls, getting up and approaching you to help carry the load.

You shrug off the line of rabbits and squirrels to him when he begins to tug on it and bring the hog to the middle of the camp, dropping it down heavily.

Bombur looks up at you with a grand smile and praises you in his low, baritone voice, "Well will you look at that! Now that's a hog."

You dip your head in acknowledgement of his compliments and offer right after, "Do you want me to skin them?"

"Oh, no, no! You have done more enough for us, we can manage that at the very least." The older dwarf assures you, patting the fat belly of the swine, "Thank you, lass. We haven't had a commendable meal in months, so this will be a real treat."

You received so many compliments and acclimations that you almost began to blush, but that's an unconscious ability that had left you a long time ago.

Everyone traveled with full bellies that afternoon, and there was plenty of leftovers to last everyone well into the next day as well.

Things like this are seldom the topic of talk or praise in the organization you work for, and you can never rely on anyone. You're all thieves, after all. Liars, tricksters, murderers... how could you trust someone like that to have your back? But... somehow, they trust you to protect them and their precious royal friends.

You: the liar, trickster, and murderer.

They sleep in your presence as if you hadn't stolen millions in treasure, product, and money; as if you hadn't killed a quarter of the people you've met in your lifetime. They trust you, the real you (or at least the realest version of you that there is), and it's a truly foreign feeling.

Of course, even though these good feelings long since lost to you have returned for a time, you keep yourself in check with the thoughts of what they would do to you if they found about your true intentions.

The images of their betrayed, angry faces, the disgust that would shine in their eyes when they realize what you're truly capable of... you're always sure to not lose sight of your end goal; the Mountain of Erebor and its' lost treasure. If you're to fail, you're certain that you'll be killed (either by the dwarfs or The Brotherhood), so you don't even entertain the thought of abandoning your mission.

---

Later in the day, during the trek up those horrible, treacherous mountains, you're approached by Bofur, the hat wearing dwarf with a smile more contagious than any sickness.

"Hello." You greet curtly when he falls into step beside you, eyeing him in your peripherals. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Oh, no." He shakes his head no and reaches up to straighten his fur hat, "You just looked a little lonely, is all."

Lonely, huh?

You don't reply right away and look ahead with your usual blank expression and dull eyes, though you do feel an uncomfortable, appreciative feeling swell inside of you. "I am not lonely." You inform him matter-of-factly, though when you glance down at his face you see that your words have slightly hurt his feelings.

Your heart twists slightly painfully when you see his saddened countenance, and before you can even think about it you're blurting out, "But I welcome the company regardless."

His frown is immediately replaced with a brilliant smile and his eyes positively shine with enthusiasm; you never thought your acceptance would garner such a reaction from him (much less anyone for that matter).

The dwarf practically talks your ear off while the 15 of you travel up the Misty Mountains, telling you everything he possibly can about his homeland, family, and feelings regarding the journey (as well as other things), and while all this incessant blathering would normally irk you, you actually find that you quite like it.

Bofur's excited speech does eventually die down when it starts to rain, though, for he and yourself both think it safer to concentrate on the hike as its level of danger grows.

It isn't long before night falls, and once it does the rain becomes a much more dangerous obstacle.

There is lower visibility and the rocks become horribly slippery, though neither of these things could ever hope to top the giant stone beasts that begin to battle right in front of you all.

The stone giants don't seem notice any of you, and if they do then they simply don't care, and you all barely escape with your lives. They throw huge boulders bigger than any building you've ever seen, and their hand-to-hand combat leaves you all shaking against the mountainside, fearful of falling to your deaths as you sway every which way.

To your, and everyone else's luck and great joy, a little cave in the mountainside appears before you all (after a horrible death scare with half of the company), and it becomes your resting spot for the night.

You, like usual, choose a spot closest to the cave entrance with rock that covers both your back and left side and fall asleep effortlessly. You plan on only resting for four or so hours, hopefully until the rain passes, and then you can resume watch so the others may regain their strength (they're heavier and bigger than you, so they need more rest and food).

Those 4 hours (and an extra half!) pass by without issue and your internal clock eventually wakes you up.

One of the first things you see when your eyes flutter open is the stone ceiling of the cave hovering above you, and the next is Bofur who sits in the little watch spot right across from your sleeping area.

You sit up as soon as your sleep addled mind clears and your blurry eyes gain focus and call softly, "Bofur, go ahead and take a rest. I can resume your watch."

The dwarf jumps slightly when your soft voice breaks through the silence and reaches out to him, but he doesn't move to get up. Instead, a small smile upturns the corners of his lips and he whispers back, "No, you do a watch of your own every night and refuse to wake anyone else up often enough. Please, go back to sleep."

He noticed that?

You can't even keep the surprise from your face, for your eyes widen almost imperceptibly and your lips part slightly. "I..." You've been shocked speechless, something that you thought impossible.

"We have all noticed, in case you're wondering. Now, go ahead and resume sleep. I've still got another 30 minutes of watch."

And, for some reason, you don't protest.

Sleep calls to you and tugs at your eyelids, making them heavy and causing your eyes to burn. What spell have they put you under to make you tired again under a simple command, you wonder?

You fall back asleep despite yourself, but it doesn't last long, for within 20 minutes after Bilbo tries to leave and the storm begins to quiet, the floor opens beneath you all and swallows everyone whole.

[ohmygoodnessgraciouss]

Reality Check - Chapter 5

Here we are once again!  Check out the #Reality Check Masterlist tag on the bottom if you need the other chapters.  A new masterlist will be created sometime this week! Enjoy! <3 I love you all 3000

Summary: Y/N and Wanda were very close after returning in 2023.  The two bonded over the loss of their partners.  It wasn’t enough to keep Wanda grounded after she found Vision’s body though, and Wanda wants the best for her friend.  Unfortunately for Y/N, this means she’s going to be thrown into a reality she wasn’t expecting.

Notes: Y’all are going to lose your minds.  There are no warnings.  I can’t spoil when we’re this close.  Just know that this has been in mind the entire time.  I couldn’t let you all know the entire plot so early on ;) 

Just as you were finishing up breakfast the lights went out.  The only light now was the sun peeking through the windows of the kitchen, illuminating the room with a soft glow.  The bacon was still sizzling in the pan and you groaned.  Suddenly, the water pipe burst in the sink as well, causing water to spray everywhere.  “Can this day get any better?!” You ran over to the water pipes underneath the sink, turning the valves until they shut off completely.  

Water continued to drip from the counters, soaking everything near it.  Just as you were grabbing towels Loki walked in, his eyes still showing signs of sleep in them.  “What happened?  I heard you yelp,” He asked, concerned. 

“The power went out and the water pipe burst.  A great combination if I do say so myself.”  Your voice was laced with sarcasm as Loki brought a few more towels over, covering the floor and stomping on them to soak up the water.  

“Don’t worry about it love, these things happen.” He smiled a little, trying to help you feel better about it.  

“Well, look at it this way,” You said, walking over to the other side of the counter.  The plate of pancakes and bacon sat there, perfectly made, unharmed from the water.  “Fate gave us a break with breakfast.” You grinned, holding up the plate to him.  He laughed lightly and pulled out two smaller plates from the cupboard. 

“A not-so-perfect start to the day, but a start nonetheless.” 

~

You placed the plates in the sink once you were done, completely forgetting that you couldn’t clean them up just yet.  You thought about what you could do and decided it may be best to go see if Wanda or Geraldine were having similar issues.  It would be a chance to get out of the house and find out if the entire neighborhood was having these problems too. 

“Loki, I’m going to go out and see if anyone else is having problems.  It could be better than asking an electrician to come over just yet.” You stated, putting your shoes on.  Loki walked over to you before responding. 

“Alright, stay safe, my love.” He kissed the top of your head.  You smiled at the affection but you were slightly confused. 

“I’m just going out around the neighborhood.  I’ll be alright, I promise,” You laughed a little.  Loki’s concern seemed so out of place for him.  You didn’t remember him ever being that protective of you.  Then again, how long ago would that have been exactly? “What’s got you so worked up lately?” 

“It’s nothing much.  It just feels like so much is changing so quickly.  And it feels like you’re changing with it.  Not-” He quickly stopped himself, “Not in that sense.  I mean, it’s changing you in a way that I’m worried will harm you.”  

“Things may be changing, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing.  It’s good that there’s change.  Maybe it’s something we need here.” You smiled.  “I’ll see you later, hon.”  

You walked out the door and down the street.  Oddly enough, there weren’t many people outside.  Taking a peek into their windows you could see that it was all dark.  Not a single light shone in them, nor did a person walk by.  It was like they were frozen in time.  

As you made your way to Wanda’s house, you noticed Agnes and Vision talking.  It looked like Herb was next to Agnes.  The three of them seemed to having a nice discussion as they laughed about something.  What you found odd, however, was the man standing across the street watching them.  His black hair was slicked back and he was in a suit.  It was Scott.  

You waved over to him and walked across to say hello.  After the ordeal that went down with him yesterday, a part of you was just drawn to him.  You weren’t sure if you wanted to apologize for being rude or find out what he was going on about.  Either way, he noticed you and smiled, breaking your train of thought.  “Y/N, how lovely to see you.”  

“Hey Scott, what’s with the suit?  It’s a Saturday, who goes to work today?” You asked, laughing a little.  He looked down to the ground quickly before meeting your eyes again.  A kind of sadness seemed to loom in his eyes. 

“I had to go into the office today to take care of some work.  The boss apparently decided that I needed to get something done by Monday if I wanted a promotion.  It didn’t take long, but it ended with a meeting so I had to make sure I dressed properly.” 

“The boss needed you on a Saturday?  Well, I can’t say much, except that I feel sorry for you.”  The two of you shared a laugh which she seemed to catch Agnes’ eye momentarily.  You noticed the quick glance she gave the two of you before resuming her discussion.  “Well, aside from that, how are you doing?” 

“Well, I’m... Alright, we can say.  I was actually looking for you, so I’m glad to see you.” He said.  Your head tilted in confusion. 

“Me?  Why were you looking for me?” 

Something in his eyes seemed to change again.  You couldn’t place your finger on the emotion though.  He hesitated before he responded, as if he was trying to choose his words carefully before replying.  It was like he needed to know what the right answer was to a simple question.  “I wanted to check on you.  Gossip spreads around this town faster than you think.  Agnes had already mentioned you running off from the talent show to me.  I wanted to check on you.” 

“Check on me?  Oh, that woman.  She’s so nosy, it drives me up the wall sometimes.  I swear if you ever mentioned what you told me to that woman, she’d let the entire town know in less than sixty seconds,” You shook your head.  He chuckled, nodding in agreement.  

“Yes, I know.  That’s why I trusted you with that information and not her.  However... I wanted to apologize for that.  That was a lot I asked from you in such a short amount of time, especially when we had just met.  Could we start over?” He asked. 

“Absolutely, Scott.  I wouldn’t want anything else.”  You grinned.  

~

“Wanda, are you sure you want to go here?” You asked, looking down at the address she had written down.  She nodded, watching you grab the car keys and pull on a jacket. 

“Vision wanted me to go there.  He wanted me to see it.  Even if he’s not there to see it too.”  She looked down dejectedly.  You brought her into a hug before pulling the address up on Google Maps.  

“Alright, let’s go see this place.” 

The drive itself was quiet, the radio muted as you listened to the directions.  Neither of you spoke a word on the three-hour trip.  It was all the way over in New Jersey, which confused you.  What was so special about this place?  

You drove into a town that seemed run down.  People still lived in it, clearly, as you saw them walk down the cracked pavement following the street.  Some sat down in front of restaurants as others spoke in hushed whispers, clearly confused by the visitors coming to their town.  

You turned down countless streets that all looked the same.  Houses lined up next to each other with busy lawns, filled with weeds and trees that grew to monstrous heights.  Some of the homes didn’t seem to be very well taken care of, leading you to believe they had been abandoned there for years.  “Are you sure this is it?” You asked her once more, breaking the silence. 

“Yes, I’m positive.”  She looked down at a paper that she had finally pulled out ten minutes ago.  You couldn’t look down to see it, but out of the corner of your eye you saw red markings on it.  

“If you’re sure.  Then, this is it.”  You pulled up to an empty lot that sat between houses.  You stopped the car, watching her take a deep breath.  You finally looked at what the paper was.  It was a deed for the land.  The red markings were a heart, with a small message from Vision.  You smiled sadly at the note.  

“Thank you, Y/N.  Thank you for doing this.” She said, her voice failing her towards the end.  You placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as she unbuckled.  

“Do you need some time here alone?  I need to go get gas anyway for when we leave.  I can come pick you up in a few minutes.” You offered.  She contemplated it for a minute before finally nodding.  By the downward turns at the corners of her lips you could tell she couldn’t say anything. She got out of the car wordlessly and walked to the center of the lot.  

You drove away, watching her with sad eyes through your mirror.  You knew she needed this moment and you hoped it would only help her move on.  

You drove about a mile outside of town to get gas when you noticed the bright burst of energy behind you.  You could only watch in amazement as the red magic filled the air, creating a huge barrier.  You recognize it immediately as Wanda’s magic.  

Instead of getting gas you got in the car and drove back to Westview, reaching the barrier.  Its magic swirled and the energy radiating from it was warm, almost trying to drag you in with it.  You walked slowly to the barrier, looking for anyone else around.  There wasn’t a single soul.  

You knew you should’ve called someone, anyone, to help you.  You had no idea what this magic would do, but as you pushed your hand through it you knew it was too late.  You were immediately pulled into the barrier and you blacked out.

~

“Y/N, may I ask you a question?” He asked, watching Agnes talk to Vision once again.  You followed his eyes, noticing the strange aura that seemed to float around them.  It looked tense, as if they were about ready to start fighting about something.  

“Of course, what is it?” You asked. 

“Do you remember the time-” He stopped himself.  “Nevermind, it’s not important.” He saw Agnes look over at him, a deadly glare in her eyes.  Whether it was from fear or anger, her eyes seemed to send a chill down his spine involuntarily.  “I should get going.  There is some more business I must take care of and I’m sure you were on your way somewhere too.” 

“Oh, yes!  I was going to see if Wanda or Geraldine had power.  It seems like the power went out in a few parts of the street, so there’s your warning.  You may go back to a dark house!” The two of you shared a laugh. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” He began to walk away as you walked across the street.  Vision and Agnes were tense, so maybe you could break the ice. 

“Hey neighbors, how are you all doing?” You asked.  They turned to you, their faces breaking out in wide smiles.  

“Hi hon, what are you doing all the way over here?” She asked. 

“I wanted to see if Wanda was having any issues with the power as well.  It seems like something knocked out the power down the street.” You smiled.  Agnes nodded understandingly.  

“Unfortunately my house got knocked out too.  I just got it back though, so you may be in luck when you get home,” She turned to Herb once she finished her statement. 

“Well either way, hello Vision, how are you doing?” You asked, turning to him now that Agnes clearly didn’t want to talk anymore.  

“I’m doing just fine, Y/N, thank you for asking.  Well, I could be better.” He said, looking over to the house momentarily. 

“Why’s that?  Something wrong at home?” 

“Well, no not exactly.  Wanda was pregnant and she just had our two sons, Billy and Tommy.” He said it proudly, but then his mood took a turn.  “I’m just not prepared for it.  I’m worried something will go wrong.” 

“Wanda was pregnant?!” Was the first thing to come out of your mouth.  The last time you saw her was just yesterday and she wasn’t showing at all.  How did it happen so quickly? 

“Yes, she was.  It was a surprise to us all, I can assure you of that.  A happy surprise, of course,” He chuckled, trying to ease his worries himself. 

“Oh, don’t start with that Vision.  This will be wonderful!  You two have an even bigger family now.  And you know everyone around here is going to be super supportive of you two the entire time.  We’re all neighbors, we’re here to help whenever you need it.” 

He smiled, looking at the ground.  “Thank you very much, Y/N, it means a lot.  Wanda and I will probably need it every once in a while.  Handling one son would be a handful, but handling twin boys will be a challenge we didn’t expect.” 

“It’s nothing you guys won’t be able to handle, I’m sure.  Is she feeling alright?  Could I go see her?” 

“Oh yes, absolutely.  I’m sure she would be delighted to see you,” He smiled, stepping aside.  “I have to discuss something with Agnes anyway, so I will see you inside.” 

You smiled and nodded, walking into the home.  There you saw Wanda and Geraldine holding the babies.  “Well isn’t this a joyful surprise,” You commented.  Wanda turned around quickly, her eyes lighting up at your presence.  

“Y/N!  Welcome, come in, come in,” She smiled, looking down at Billy in her arms.  “I want you to meet my boys, Billy and Tommy.” 

Geraldine smiled softly and handed Tommy to you.  His eyes were shut but you could tell he looked just like a perfect mix of Wanda and Vision.  He fit in your arms perfectly, snuggled in his blanket.  “They’re beautiful, Wanda.” 

Tommy slowly woke up, his bright eyes staring up at you in curiosity.  You were surprised to see newborns be so active, but what did you know about babies?  Maybe they’re just a little different.  

He stuck one of his arms out of the blanket, pressing his hand up against his eye as he slowly woke up, trying to rub the tiredness out.  He cooed a little and you could see the love in Wanda’s eyes as he did.  “Hey there, little guy,” You smiled, holding up your hand near him.  When you placed your pinky in his hand he immediately grasped it.  It was such a simple act that made your heart skip a beat.  

You giggled and slowly moved your finger away from him.  “Oh, Y/N, could you please go grab something from my bedroom upstairs.  I have a book up there on the shelf.  It’s the second door on the right.  It’s a baby book and I want to know what else to expect from these two,” She said, pointing up the stairs.  

You nodded.  “Of course!  Here, Geraldine, can you take Tommy?” You gave her Tommy and started making your way upstairs.  

You found the door and entered.  It was a simple room.  The bed had a dark frame with white sheets.  The red comforter was tucked in neatly and the pillows were underneath.  The bedside tables had matching lamps, a clock on one side.  To the right you could see a closet hidden by two doors.  A bookshelf stood next to the closet.  That must have been the shelf you needed. 

The bookshelf was littered with different colored books of all sizes.  One was a dictionary, another was a fiction novel, another seemed to be on some sort of philosophy.  It was almost like you could pinpoint whose book was whose.  

The one book stood off to the side.  A baby blue cover, a little binkie on the front.  The title was simply “What to Expect: The First Year.”  It had a small red glow around it, much like the items in the store just yesterday.  You picked the book up and the glow dissipated.  You flipped through the pages lightly while beginning to walk out of the room. 

You stopped in your tracks when you heard a loud crash come from downstairs.  You ran towards the stairs, hiding immediately when you saw the large hole created in the wall.  Wanda stood across from it, the eerie red glow surrounding her hands.  It had to have been Geraldine who had gone flying through the wall.  She wasn’t there anymore and the hole was large enough for a person. 

You watched in amazement as Wanda began moving her hands around, the wall repairing itself.  It was like magic.  The red glow faded from her hands and she straightened out her dress.  She turned back towards the twins.  

To avoid raising suspicion, you began walking down the stairs.  “I found it!” You said, handing the book over to her.  She smiled and thanked you for it, opening the book to a specific chapter.  “Where’s Geraldine?” You asked, looking around innocently. 

“She had to go.  She didn’t belong.”

Oh yeah.  You have to get out of there. 

___________________________________________

Scott walked up to the house, knocking on the door.  He straightened out his suit as he waited for an answer.  This had to be the right house.  No other house was like it on the street.  If it wasn’t, he was about to be in big trouble by the boss.  

Loki opened the door, a gentle smile on his face.  “Hello-” He was immediately cut off as Scott walked in, taking his shirt collar.  He shut the door and slammed Loki up against it.  Loki’s eyes widened at the action.  “What are you doing?” 

A knife was quickly placed against his neck.  Scott glared at the man before him with steely eyes.  “Who are you?” 

“And why are you pretending to be me?” 

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