#characters that struggle to recover or move forward should still have space to do so

[shadelorde]

THEY FUCKING KILLED ZUBEIA?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Whisked Away 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get a job at a bakery but your new boss only adds to your work

Character: chubby!baker!Thor

Please comment and reblog if it's not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

The tea shop hasn’t called back. Or the grocery store. Not even the cafe around the corner. 

You’re tired. You’ve been sending out resumes for months. Reviewing and editing and sending again. You don’t get it. You have the proper credential and you have a decent amount of experience. It’s just been a while.  

You want to assume that people just aren’t hiring but that wouldn’t explain the postings and re-postings. They are still looking but somehow you’re just not good enough on paper. Disappointment knots in your throat as your inbox reveals no new emails. You need something. Even a job at the burger joint will do. 

You grab your phone and sigh. You stand and shut the laptop lid as you tuck your cell into your back pocket. You go down the short hall and knock on the bedroom door. 

“Delaney? You up?” You call through. 

You get a groan in return. Sometimes that’s all you get. 

“Alright, I’m gonna open the door,” you warn as you twist the knob slowly. 

You push inside and reach to flip on the light switch. Your sister grumbles against and covers her face with her arm. The windows are covered with dark curtains that give a blue hue even when the space is lit. She hids behind her forearm as you near the bottom of her bed. 

“Are you hungry?” You ask. 

“I’d love some coffee,” the croaks. 

“How ya feeling?” You grab her walker and move it parallel with the side of the bed. 

“It’s a rough one,” she warns and drags her arm away from her face. “I don’t wanna get up.” 

You nod and trail your fingers along the top of the walker, “if you don’t wanna...” 

“No, I should,” she insists. 

She braces herself visibly, closing her eyes as her cheeks strain and she sits up with a grunt. He arms shake and she kicks the blankets of her legs. Her movement is awkward and stiff. You hate seeing her struggle like this. You know she’s just as unhappy about you seeing it. That’s why she’s so stubborn. 

“Should be enough left for another cup but I can make a new pot?” You offer as you hold the walker steady and she grips it, pulling herself to her feet. She hunches slightly and tries to stretch out her legs. 

“My feet are numb,” she stomps one foot then the other. “Annoying.” She scowls and shakes her head as you let go of the walker and step back. She turns it sharply and lumbers forward with the aid of the wheels, “I can have the leftovers.” 

Patiently, you follow her to the door and into the hall. She wheels her way to the table and angles herself into the chair with her special cushion on it. She’s out of breath. 

You go into the kitchen to give her some time to recover. You try your best to give her space, even in the one-bedroom. You sleep on the couch while she gets the bedroom. It makes sense, especially since lately her stipend has been covering most of your expenses. 

You fill a mug for her and grab her pill box. You bring both to her and set them on the table. She takes the coffee first and swigs. She sighs as she sets it down heavily then snatches the box. She pops open the lid for that day of the week and scoops out the tablets. She sneers before she gulps them down with another mouthful of coffee. 

“So, you were up early?” She prompts. 

“You know I’m a morning bird.” 

“Eh, yeah, wish I had that problem,” she mutters. Some days, she sleeps more than she’s awake. You tell her it’s part of her diagnosis but she won’t accept that. You can understand that but you know you can’t really understand. You’re not her. 

“Yeah, well, the birds wake me up,” you shrug.  

A sudden buzzing ripple in your pocket. You pull your phone out of the loose sweatpants and look at the screen. It’s a number you don’t know. You doubt it’s important but you can’t risk missing any calls. 

“Gimme a sec,” you hold up a finger and turn away. “Probably the building or something.” You tap the screen and put the phone to your ear, “hello?” 

“Hello,” a deep voice rumbles over a calamity of noises, some metallic, others humming, “oh, apologies, give me a moment.” You wait as you hear movement on the other end and the cacophony finally subsides, “ah, much better. Is this...” 

You blink and confirm that he has the right number. 

“Wonderful, I apologise for the early call but I tend to get started with the sun,” he explains, “anyhow, I was only just reviewing CVs and you are on my list of candidates. When would be a good day for an interview?” 

You turn back and glance at Delaney. She sips her coffee as she pulls the laptop close. She opens it and squints at it before she clicks. She scrolls as you watch her. 

“Um, well, I could um, any day,” you answer, trying not to seem to desperate. 

“Today?” He asks, “it’s a bit ridiculous but I wouldn’t mind getting it over with.” 

“S-sure,” you answer, surprised by the suddenness. It's as if the universe had sensed you were about to give up. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I... got your name.” 

“Oh, yes, I did dive in head first. Thor Odinson, at Golden Crust bakery. You applied as a decorator?” 

“Y-yeah, I remember,” you assure him, “just wanna make sure I get to the right place. Uh, thanks, um, what time should I be there?” 

“Is noon doable?” He asks. 

“Noon it is,” you say, barely containing your excitement. You try not to let it overflow, you don’t want to get all worked up for another rejection. 

“Excellent, I will see you then,” he confirms, “now, excuse me, I think my sourdough has burnt.” 

The line clicks and you lower the phone, staring at it. The tapping of Delaney’s fingers on the keyboard are the only noise amidst the the stunned silence. It’s great you got an interview but what do you wear? 

“Hm, job hunt not going so well?” Delaney suggests as she leans into the screen. 

“Actually, just got a call for one,” you go to the table and put your phone down. “I have an interview.” 

“You do?” Her eyes flash as she looks up, a rare glimmer of happiness. “That’s awesome!” 

“Uh, yeah, but it’s at noon so... I’ll have to leave for a bit.” 

“Sounds good to me,” she scoffs, “perfect time to party.” 

You roll your eyes, “you’re silly.” 

“Well, you know, if you get the job, I’ll have to figure out how to entertain myself,” she says, “and I’ll get to binge all the TV shows you hate.” 

“You’re such an optimist,” you chide playfully. 

[flightlessangelwings]

Don’t Call Me Princess

Boba Fett x fem!reader x Fennec Shand

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings, please be aware of these before reading: CNC (consensual non consent), smut, role play, threesome, oral (m & f receiving), face fucking, light cockwarming, throne fucking, rough, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, slight degradation, aftercare

Please note that everything that happens here is consensual (and is explicitly stated so) and was discussed beforehand.

18+ ONLY!

~

You struggled against your restraints as the bounty hunter dragged you into the grand palace of the desert planet you had found yourself on. She was definitely stronger than she looked, and she was able to capture you and tie your arms behind your back in no time.

The space was empty as she led you by your arm down the hallway until the pair of you came into a dimly lit throne room. In the center of the room sat a helmeted man, and you could tell by his body language that he was amused with the sight before him.

“I hope you enjoyed your freedom while it lasted, princess,” he mocked you as he leaned forward, “Did she give you any trouble, Fennec?”

“Not at all,” you could hear the smirk in the woman’s voice from behind you, “You were a good girl, weren’t you?” she shook you so that she made sure you paid attention to her.

You glanced behind you with a small whine before your eyes went back to the man on the throne. Your eyes went wide as you realized who you were brought to, “You’re Boba Fett, aren’t you?”

He chuckled in a low rumble as he casually removed his helmet, “I see my reputation precedes me,” he paused as he studied your face, “As does yours, princess. There is a large reward for the return of the runaway royal.”

You strained against your restraints, “Don’t call me ‘princess,’” you spat back, though your voice was weaker than you wanted it to be.

Fennec tightened her grip on your arm and yanked you back so that your back was flush with her chest. The action made you gasp, and you felt your body heat up at the sudden contact. She ran her free hand up the side of your body as she mocked you, “What’s wrong… princess?”

“Don’t…” you started to protest but your breath caught in your throat when Fennec gripped your breast tightly. She nuzzled her nose against your neck before she nipped at the exposed skin there. “What…?” you couldn’t form more than one syllable as your eyes fluttered shut while she fondled and caressed you, and you hated how turned on you became just from those touches.

“I like your thinking, Fennec,” Boba’s voice rang through the room, and you opened your eyes to find that he palmed himself over his pants as he watched you both. His eyes were deep and even from a distance you could see the desire and want in them, “Bring her here.”

“Let’s have a little fun with her,” Fennec’s voice was low and dripped with lust.

The deepness of their voices went right to your core, and you couldn’t help the way your thighs clenched together. Boba’s gaze never broke from yours as you were forced closer by Fennec. You dug your heels into the ground and tried to put as much weight down as you could, but you should have known better. She was easily able to push you so that you stood just before Boba Fett.

“Why don’t we put that mouth to better use, huh?” he grinned as he reached out for you. 

Fennec pushed you forward and you stumbled until you were caught by strong arms. You looked up to see that Boba’s face had softened as he held you up, and you knew that he silently asked you if you were still ok with all of this. You gave him a flash of a smile and a subtle nod; you had a safe word and a non-verbal signal to use if you needed this to stop. With confirmation from you, his face dropped and he was back in character.

He gripped onto your jaw and harshly hinged you forward so that you bent over. In the same movement, Boba sat himself back on his throne and brought your face to his length, which you could see was hard already under his pants. Your eyes went wide as you helplessly watched him open his pants just enough to free his erection.

From behind you, Fennec grabbed onto your hips to keep your back flat as you stayed bent over on Boba’s lap. Your mouth dropped open in a soft protest, but before you formed more than a simple “no,” Boba took the opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth.

You gasped as tried to pull away from him, but Fennec kept a firm grip on your ass to keep you in place. She and Boba shared a glance and a grin before she moved to work your pants off of your body. You whimpered around Boba’s cock as you tried to move, but between the way the two of them held you still and your arms still bound behind you, you were completely at their mercy. 

Boba kept his knees spread as his cock rested completely still in your mouth, and you could feel your jaw ache already. He watched while Fennec took hold of the binders around your wrists with one hand and shoved your pants down your legs with the other. Her eyes flicked up and met his with a wicked grin, and he knew exactly what it meant: you were wet already.

You whined around the thick cock in your mouth as you felt Fennec slap your now exposed ass once before she caressed the skin there. She then switched the hand that held your bound wrists so she could give the same attention to the other side, and Boba’s cock twitched in your mouth when you moaned around him.

Fennec let her fingernails drag across your skin as her hand made its way to your pussy, and she let out a sharp laugh when you tried to wriggle out of her grip.

“You’re already taking my cock so well, princess,” Boba hummed as he traced his fingers across your face, “Now be a good girl and let Fennec fuck you.”

Just as the words left Boba’s lips, Fennec drove two fingers into your pussy. Your cry was muffled, but it still echoed through the room. She didn’t give you any time to recover from how hard she initially thrust into you and immediately pumped her fingers in and out of your pussy. 

“How does she feel?” Boba asked in a low groan. He fought to keep his hips still, though he wanted nothing more than to fuck your face in that moment.

“Perfect,” Fennec replied in a velvety tone. She felt you clench around her fingers at that. “I’ll have to use the strap on her next time.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you looked up at the man in front of you in a silent plea for this to stop. His gaze dropped to meet yours and he wiped away your tears in a gentle motion. You thought he would tell his partner to stop, but instead he reached around to the back of your head and gripped your scalp tightly.

Boba couldn’t hold himself back anymore and he lifted his hips enough to have the leverage he needed to thrust into your mouth. You were pounded relentlessly from both sides as he matched Fennec’s pace. Your choked sobs and moans filled the room as Boba groaned. Just as he fucked your face even harder, Fennec added a third finger and reached her thumb to flick at your clit.

You cried out even louder, and you knew you wouldn’t last long if she kept her pace like this. But, Fennec just teased you and withdrew her thumb after just a few harsh circles to concentrate on pounding her fingers into you. Before you knew what you were doing, your eyes went back up to Boba in a silent plea for her to touch your clit again.

The action did not go unnoticed by Boba, and he slowed his thrusts as he spoke to you in that condescending voice again, “You want to cum, princess?”

“Mmmhmm,” you moaned around his length. As much as you protested, your body reacted on its own and the need to reach your climax took over.

“You think she deserves to cum?” this time his question was directed at Fennec, who was so focused on fucking your cunt that she almost didn’t hear the question.

You whined as you clenched yourself around her fingers again, which seemed to please her, “I think we can let her cum,” Fennec cooed as she leaned forward to cover your body with hers.

She repositioned herself again so that her fingers filled you and her thumb ghosted over your clit. Fennec teased you for a moment before he rubbed harsh circles, and let out a dark chuckle when you cried out in pleasure. Meanwhile, Boba stilled himself in your mouth again and leaned back so he could watch you come undone in front of him.

Fennec tugged at the restraints to get your body to angle just slightly upwards, and Boba tilted his head to watch her fuck your with her fingers. He smiled as he saw how soaked you were, and he could see your legs tremble from your approaching orgasm.

“Come for us, princess,” he commanded, and that was all it took for you to break. You shut your eyes as your mouth dropped open and your scream filled the room. Boba held you up by your shoulders as Fennec rode out every last ounce of your climax util you sobbed from the stimulation. 

Once she was satisfied, Fennec slowly pulled out and made eye contact with Boba as she licked her fingers clean. He carefully pulled himself out of your mouth and wrapped a hand around your neck as he guided you to stand. Once you both stood, Boba pulled out a small knife and held it up to you.

Your eyes widened at the blade, and Fennec held your bound arms taut behind you as he slowly sliced your shirt up the middle. A whimper escaped your lips as he completely exposed you to them. Boba dropped the knife onto the floor as they both eyed your body greedily. 

Boba leaned in and cupped your breasts before he whispered, “Now you have to say ‘thank you’ to Fennec here for that orgasm, princess,” his eyes darted behind you to his partner.

You swallowed hard as Boba wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around so that you back pressed against his chest. You could feel his hardness against your backside, and you whimpered as you tried to struggle free again. Although you knew it was no use, you tried anyway. Between your binds and the exhaustion from having come once already, you didn’t have the strength to fight back.

“And I want to feel how this pussy feels too,” Boba added in a growl as he sat you both down on his throne. Once he was seated, he moved his hands to grab a hold of your hips and in one swift movement, he lifted you and dropped you down onto his length.

You threw your head back and let out a loud scream as he filled you in one movement, and the protest at the pet name was completely erased from your mind. You leaned back against his body as he wrapped his arm around your waist and just took the moment to savour how amazing you felt around his cock. Your legs were still pressed together, which made your inner muscles even tighter around him, and it was a feeling unlike any other. 

Boba paused though to give you a minute to use the safe word if you needed it. When you were silent save for your soft cries, he nodded to Fennec to continue.

Fennec slowly undid her pants and pushed them down before she stepped out of one leg. You opened your eyes at the sound of the movement and you just watched as she presented herself to you. The fierce look on her face never faltered, though, and even when she lifted her bare leg to the arm of the throne, she remained stoic. 

You couldn’t help but glance down at her pussy, and before you could even lick your lips, she rocked her hips forward so that your mouth covered her cunt. Fennec grabbed hold of your scalp much the way Boba did earlier and held you taut against her body. 

“Be a good girl now,” she cooed as she pressed your face against her body hard enough that you almost couldn’t breathe.

With a gasp, you cocked your head to the side just enough so you could get some air in your nose before you flicked your tongue out against her pussy. Her grip on your scalp tightened as you softly ran your tongue over her folds while Boba held you still on his cock.

“I know you can do better than this, princess,” Fennec tugged at you again with both hands.

Your sobs were muffled against her as you swirled your tongue faster and aimed directly at her clit. That made her groan in approval as she released one hand to caress the side of your face. In your mind, you figured if you gave Fennec what she wanted, then maybe they would let you go, so you sucked at her cunt even harder. You grinned against her when she let out a low moan and you ran your tongue in random patterns along her.

When your tongue hit Fennnec’s clit at just the right angle, she let out a louder moan involuntarily. You kept up your pace with your tongue, determined to make her come, and you could tell from how she tugged at your scalp that she was close. It only took a few more harsh licks for her climax to take her over, and Fennec slumped over you as she came.

Boba watched you eat her out with a grin on his face as he held you still in his lap. He moved his hands from around your waist to grip onto your arms as he used his knees to force your legs open. You whined against Fennec’s pussy as the movement shifted Boba’s length inside you. After he adjusted you, Boba moved one arm to cup at your breast and rolled your nipple in his fingers, which made your squirm.

Fennec finally released you once she was satisfied and she leaned back against the large arm of the throne to watch as Boba prepared to fuck you senseless, “Have fun with her, Fett,” she spoke in a low voice.

“Oh I will,” he replied with a wicked smirk.

You swallowed hard as you tried once again to break free, “Wait…”

But he didn’t listen. Boba used his legs to pin yours open and while he kept one hand to grip the binders, the other moved down from your breast to rub at your clit. You cried out as fresh tears rolled down your cheeks and you felt him rock in and out of you.

He started slow, but soon picked up his pace and within minutes, Boba pounded into you while he rubbed at your clit harshly. You fell forward, your strength almost completely gone, but he held onto your bound wrists and used that leverage to keep you upright. The whimpers and cries that escaped your lips only fueled him on more, not to mention the wet sounds your pussy made as he thrusted into you.

“Please…” you begged in a weak voice as you let yourself go limp in his grip. 

Boba stilled himself deep inside you as he yanked you back against his chest, “‘Please?’” his voice was low in your ear as he wrapped his hand around your neck, “Well since you asked so nicely, princess…”

“Don’t call me...AHHH” your thought was cut off as he resumed his ruthless pace and pounded into you without mercy. 

Your screams filled the room as he pumped his cock into you. Fennec watched the sight before her with a dark smile on her face and her hand on her own clit. She couldn’t help herself from how delicious you sounded while Boba fucked you on his throne. Her own low moans were drowned out by your cries, and you didn’t even register them. You were too preoccupied with how Boba’s large cock stretched you out and rocked so roughly into you.

“I feel you fighting your climax,” he groaned in your ear as he felt his orgasm approach, “You gonna be a good girl and come for me, princess?” Boba picked up his pace even more when he felt you clench your inner muscles around him, “Let me feel how this beautiful pussy comes on my cock.”

Your whole body trembled as you gave in and threw your head back and came with a loud scream. You soaked Boba’s cock with your orgasm, and both he and Fennec came at the same time soon after your climax first hit. You faintly heard both of them moan and you felt his seed spill deep into you, but your mind was too cloudy to think about much of anything.

Once he rode out both of your orgasms, Boba fell back against his throne and pulled you down with him. The room was quiet as you all caught your breaths, and your eyes fluttered closed as you rested against his broad chest. It wasn’t until you felt his hands run up your sides that you were brought back to the present.

“Hey,” Boba said your name in a soft voice, “You alright?”

You nodded without opening your eyes, not ready to trust your own voice just yet. You listened as Fennec stood and quickly dressed herself before she reached out for you.

“Let me help you,” her voice was just as soft as you felt her hands on your shoulders. You finally opened your eyes to be met with her beautiful face just inches from yours and you gave her a nod before you leaned forward.

Fennec reached around to unlock the binders around your wrists, and both her and Boba helped you lift yourself off of his cock. You couldn’t help the whimper that you let out as you stood on shaky legs, but Fennec did not let you fall.

“Thanks,” you mumbled as you leaned against her. She led you down the hallway to your bedroom while Boba stood and followed close behind.

You collapsed down onto your soft bed and closed your eyes as you hummed contently. A smile grew on your face when you felt a body rest on either side of you followed by two pairs of arms around you. 

“You did good love,” Boba said your name again as he placed a soft kiss on your temple, “I know you hate to be called ‘princess,’” he then added with a chuckle.

“That was your idea,” Fennec reminded him before she addressed you with your name, “Are you hurt at all?” her hand ghosted across your body as she checked you over.

You shook your head, “I’m wonderful,” you opened your eyes and placed soft kisses to each of their lips, “Thank you.”

Fennec traced the outline of your face with her fingers before she gently guided your head down to rest, “I enjoyed that too,” she admitted in a whisper.

Boba hummed in agreement, “Rest now, love. We’ve got you.”

“You always do,” you replied with a yawn as you let yourself drift off to sleep. You knew you would be sore tomorrow, but you wanted this, and Boba and Fennec made it well worth the bruises. 

~

Notes: I cannot fight horny bisexual brain so I don’t even try! I hope y’all enjoyed this, I know it something really different. I don’t have a Boba or Fennec taglist but I can make one if there’s interest in either or both characters so please let me know!

[alicanta77]

Chapter 5: Empire Dawning

Pairing: princess!y/n x prince!Chenle

Themes: royalty au, fluff, angst

Warnings: arranged marriage, character death, injury, illness

Words: 6k

Inspiration: BTS - Blood, Sweat and Tears - orchestral cover

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Finale

tag list: @hiqhkey @jaeshatshop @lebrookestore @honei-n @cheonsa1004 @haechans-sunflower @crispy-chan @rvse-hvvck​ @chezzontop​​​

——————————————————————————

The next few months passed like a blur. You and Chenle hadn’t gone a single day without seeing each other and your happiness radiated throughout the whole kingdom. As well as spending time together, you also had your individual duties, with Chenle training with the knights and you attending council hearings and shadowing your mother.

The only dark cloud that hung over you, was your father’s health.

In the months since his injury, he still hadn’t recovered. The castle doctors couldn’t understand what the problem was. The wound had been treated with disinfectant and cared for with the utmost care, and it appeared as though it had healed. Yet, your father could barely get out of bed.

He was weak, his eyes were duller skin had less colour than normal, and you were worried. It became clear that the blade had been laced with some kind of poison, something that was intended to kill the king from the inside out. For a while you had thought that he would just be weakened, but as his health began to deteriorate once again, and you knew that he didn’t have long left.

Chenle had become a pillar of support for your mother while your father struggled. He had attended countless meetings and sessions, and provided her with advice when she asked for it. Anybody could see that he was someone she relied on and trusted with every fibre of her being.

You drew your eyes away from your mother and once again regarded the papers in front of you, tuning your ears back into the councilman who was speaking.

“By increasing taxes we can afford to pay for the renovations for the lower towns. We’ll need to purchase some materials from travelling merchants in order to deter the bandits from making more attacks. But this money will be to bring in specialists who can build the defences.”

Your mother sighed, reading the documents in her hands, reaching to sign it but Chenle’s brows furrowed and he gently stopped her hand.

“Why would we need to increase the taxes again?” He questioned, looking at the councilman who visibly swallowed under Chenle’s scrutinising gaze. “The taxes were temporarily increased in order to pay for medication for the king which hasn’t worked. I don’t think we can justify raising them again for a job that some of our own people can do.”

“The people are already giving everything they can.” You spoke up, nodding at Chenle to show your support for his objection. “If we increase the taxes, some of them may need to ration food or pick up extra jobs.”

“But this will not be a permanent raise.” The councilman argued. “This is only to ensure that the job is done properly.”

“We have some fine workmen here. Why would we hire people to do a job when we could give it to someone who is already here?” You questioned with Chenle immediately backing you up with another point after.

“Not only is that better for the economy, but it’s a solution, whereas raising taxes and bringing in external ‘specialists’ would simply create public unrest and difficulty for our people, which, in my eyes, seem to be more problems that we would then need to solve.”

Your mother placed the document back down on the table in front of her, and slid it across back to the sullen councilman.

“No.” She spoke with a quiet authority. “While your idea seemed manageable to you, it is only because you would not be the one finding solutions to the problems it causes, the Prince and Princess would. They are correct. It is not worth paying people extra to do a job that our own people can do. I want you to spread words for the work that we need done along with the salary that is offered.” Your mother gestured towards a few people on her right, who nodded at her words before she turned back towards the rest of the council. “If there are no more issues to be addressed, this concludes today’s meeting.”

When no words were spoken, the guards standing by the exit opened the large wooden doors and everyone stood. The three of you waited for the room to empty before the queen nodded at the guards again, and they shut the doors once more, this time standing on the outside of it.

“Well, that ran for longer than expected.” Your mother muttered, turning back to the two of you. “Thank you for speaking up.”

After receiving a smile and nod from both you and Chenle she turned and began to walk away, the smile slowly dropping off your face as you watched her go. She still held herself high, walking with the power that a queen would, but there was a heaviness that followed her wherever she went. It was as if she was struggling to make it through the day. 

Chenle’s hand squeezed your shoulder lightly.

“She’s just worried about your father.” He murmured, stepping forwards to wrap an arm fully around your shoulders. “Like I am about you.”

You leaned back into him, resting your head against his shoulder and sighed.

“i’ll be fine.” You reassured him, turning around and wrapping your arms lightly around his waist as he leant down to briefly touch his forehead to yours. “I just... I’ve never seen her like this. She’s always been so strong, so sure of everything she does, and now, it’s like, as my father dies, so does some part of her. I feel like I’m losing them both at the same time, and I’m not ready for it.”

Chenle nodded, taking in your words and listening intently. He leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I know it’s difficult watching them like this, it’s difficult for me too, but all we can do is be there for her, and offer her the support that your father can’t anymore.” You closed your eyes and nodded, Chenle’s words comforting you.

“You’re right. I know you’re right I just need reminding sometimes.”

Chenle nodded, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Hey, we have some free time and I think the music room is free.” He suggested, his eyebrows raised in anticipation and you grinned in response, grabbing his hand and leading him out of the hall.

---

Chenle’s fingers danced over the piano, expertly playing the ending to the song the two of you had just sung. This place was a safe space. A place where it was just the two of you and you could forget about the countless things kept you from falling asleep at night.

The final note echoed around the otherwise empty room, and you gently shut your eyes, listening as it faded into nothingness. When you reopened your eyes, you found Chenle already looking at you. For a moment the two of you just stared at each, the silence comforting enough with words unnecessarily interrupting it.

The silence eventually grew thin and you began to think of something to say, a phrase that would match the perfection of this moment in time. Luckily for you, Chenle seemed to have a different idea on what to say, which was limited to saying nothing.

He quickly leant in, closing the short distance between the two of you and pressing his lips to yours. You kissed him back, smiling into the kiss and moving your hand up to his cheek.

“What was that for?” You asked him, the grin on your face mirrored on his.

Chenle shrugged.

“I just felt like it.” He leaned in again, placing a much softer peck on your lips before standing up.

He offered you a hand which you took, standing as well and adjusting your long dress as you did. Chenle kept a hold of your hand, using it to bring you closer to him.

“You know, one day we should get someone else to play for us.” He suggested as you raised your eyebrows.

“Is that so?” You asked as he nodded nonchalantly.

“Yep, because that way I can do this with you to someone else’s music.” He grabbed your waist lightly with his other hand and began to gently sway the two of you. 

Your body reacted on instinct, moving your free hand to his shoulder and you couldn’t stop the giggle that left you when your mind registered what you were doing.

The two of you gently danced around the room, covering ground yet never looking away from each other. Chenle turned you in a dramatic spin before dipping you as you both cracked up. The sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, causing Chenle to pull you back up into a standing position.

The two of you shared a knowing look, predicting what was about to happen. And, just as you had thought, your lady in waiting appeared in the corner, informing you of the time. You nodded at her words that your father was asking for you and you turned back towards Chenle, pulling on his hand to guide him out of the door.

“I’ll see you later?” You asked.

“Of course.” Chenle replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Don’t forget to ask your father about us visiting the villages!”

Your eyes widened slightly at that, the thought having slipped your mind. You thanked him, promising to remember and you both walked your separate ways.

---

Chenle wandered the halls of the castle, not walking anywhere in particular and not really focusing on where he was going. He had become so familiar with these passages that he could get to any room on muscle memory alone.

He still remembers the time he got lost in the North quarter in his early days here. He’d been thinking about meeting you, and somehow taken the wrong turn, leaving it up to you to come and find him. Chenle chuckled to himself as he remembered the state of panic he had been in.

He sometimes found himself missing those early days, when everything was new and he was seeing these things for the first time. But if he was being honest, the only thing that Chenle wanted to do again for the first time, was meet you, to get to know you and learn about you all over again. To fall in love with you all over again.

Sometimes Chenle dreamt about taking you back to Shanghai, showing you off to his people and touring you around the castle he grew up in. Maybe even coming to find you when you got lost this time. But that couldn’t happen, not now at least. You couldn’t afford to leave the Queen in this state, not while the king was so fragile.

One day, Chenle promised. One day, he would show you his home.

The clanging sound of swords clashing drew him out of his thoughts and Chenle realised he was walking towards the training grounds. He let his feet carry him across the grass and he came to a stop, standing on the side of the training grounds, watching Jisung, Jaehyun and Taeyong training some new knights in swordplay.

Jisung noticed him watching, sending him a nod in acknowledgement, which Chenle returned. Jisung looked at the knight in front of him and Chenle could see the cockiness radiating off him from where he was standing.

Taeyong and Jaehyun came to stand beside Chenle, both of them patting him on the shoulder and bumping his elbow in greeting.

“They’re not a bad bunch.” Taeyong told him, referring to the new knights. “Lots of potential, they just need to get it in their heads that this isn’t all glory. That one facing Jisung now, he’s the best out of this group.”

Chenle nodded, tilting his head as he caught the end of what Jisung was saying.

“You can’t fight for something you don’t believe in.”

The knight who was facing off Jisung scoffed, making all of the knights watching raise their eyebrows in disbelief at his attitude.

“You can when you’re as skilled as I am.” The young knight retaliated, clearly attempting to show off to his friends. “I can fight for nothing and I’ll still win.”

“No.” Chenle spoke up, making all eyes turn on him as he began to walk towards them. “You’ll lose.” The jaws of knights who were training all dropped slightly at the sight of their Prince. Ever since the battle and his coronation, Chenle had been extremely well respected around the kingdom and that respect had only been going up with his close relationship with the queen. “You’ll always lose.”

Chenle stepped forward so that he was standing in front of the group of knights, standing at Jisung’s side. Jisung reached out, offering him a sword which Chenle took with a small but grateful smile.

“Those who fight without belief can never win. Because it’s that belief, that passion, that trust in what you’re fighting for that gives you strength when you need it most. The picture of what you love most in this world appears in your head and you know that, for that thing you love, you can fight for as long as you need to. Those who fight with a cause don’t fight because they have to, they fight because they want to. Because they have something worth fighting for.”

The knights were rendered speechless by the end of Chenle’s short speech. All of them, including the cocky youngster at the front nodded rapidly in understanding. Jisung gave some new commands to pair up with a trainer as some of the more experienced knights, including Jaemin and Jeno arrived. Chenle immediately began to help out, demonstrating moves and tricks to the boy he was assigned to.

He didn’t notice or hear Taeyong lean over to Jaehyun and speak a quiet sentence which Jaehyun nodded in agreement with.

“Spoken like a true King.”

---

You had never been so relieved to have switched out your usual floaty dresses for a pair of trousers today. You and Chenle had headed down to one of the kingdom’s outlying villages for the day in order to help them rebuild it. When you had visited your father the day before, you’d asked for his permission and his words were still echoing in your head today.

“My dear, even if I didn’t give you permission you would be going down there anyway. And I know that because I know you, and I know what you’re willing to do. Now let me tell you, no one needs permission to care about someone else or to help them. This goes beyond being a good queen, this is being a good person.”

It was the last thing he said before you left the room. Your father had a habit of leaving you with words that stayed with you for a while. It was as if he had a goal of giving you a piece of wisdom every time you talked.

You reached for another plank of wood, passing it up to Chenle who grabbed it and began to move it into the right place on the roof. You had been working hard for a couple of hours and you were beginning to tire. Your muscles were aching, but you refused to stop, knowing how much this would help the people living in this village.

You reached down for another plank, your fingers grasping at empty air as you realised that was the final one. You shouted the news up at Chenle before moving to sit on a nearby grassy slope. Chenle climbed down from the ladder he was on and flopped down in a heap next to you.

“You’ve never been more graceful.” You commented sarcastically.

“Thank you.” He replied without missing a beat. “You know, you should wear trousers more often, they look good.”

“I doubt my mother would approve.” You laugh as Chenle chuckled too.

“You’re probably right.” He agreed, before lifting his hand and pointing towards the crops. “Also, we should do something about the fence.”

Your eyes followed his finger to see that the fence around one of the fields had caved in, falling over the crops and stunting their growth.

“Yes, definitely. We could also put up a boundary around some of the houses. Maybe give them extra protection or places to store weapons. We should also install some trap doors if we can to give them a place to hide crops so that, if bandits come again and there’s no one here to protect them, they don’t lose everything they have.”

“Good idea.” 

You and Chenle kept chatting, exchanging ideas and making plans of building that you would pitch to your parents. Chenle was just beginning the idea of training some of the young farm boys in basic combat when you suddenly put your hand on his chest, stopping him talking immediately. 

He looked at you in confusion until he heard what you were hearing. Galloping hooves, horses getting closer and closer with each passing second. You both scrambled for your weapons, prepared to defend these people from the bandits you assumed were approaching with everything you had, when a single horse rounded the corner and approached you.

You recognised the man sitting upon it as the royal messenger.

“You’re needed back at the castle, immediately.” The urgency in his voice made you move quickly, sheathing your sword and mounting Obsidian. Chenle followed your actions also managing to ask the exact question that you were too afraid too.

“Why? What’s this about?”

“The King.”

---

You galloped all the way back to the castle, not slowing down for a second. Chenle was close behind you, the messenger somewhere further back, his horse too tired from the journey to the village to keep up with your desperate pace. You couldn’t describe the panic you felt in your chest. It was driving every move you made, encouraging you to go even faster. You urged Obsidian on, your horse grunting as he poured even more speed into his legs. 

You heard Chenle do the same with Aspen, determined to keep up with you no matter what. You both approached the castle without losing speed, the guards at the gates running out of your way. You were forced to pull Obsidian to a slower pace as you made your way towards the castle doors. The stable hands rushed out to meet you and you jumped off and ran straight through the doors, ignoring everyone in your way.

By this point you didn’t know if Chenle was still behind you, and you didn’t have it in you to slow down and find out as you raced towards your parents quarters. You finally reached their room, threw open the doors and stared at the scene in front of you.

You barely heard Chenle’s footsteps as he arrived behind you, but you did feel his arms catching you as your knees gave out.

Your father was dead.

---

The funeral was the next day.

The night of his death, the citizens of your kingdom had stood in the courtyard of the palace and held candles, all of them wearing black out of respect. Your mother, Chenle and yourself went out to thank them and it took everything in you not to fall apart.

After thanking the people, you headed back inside. You went straight to your room, Chenle following you no matter how much you protested. Eventually you turned on him, demanding to know why he wouldn’t let you be. He took a step towards you, reaching up to move a small piece of hair out of your face before softly telling you.

“I don’t want you to feel alone.”

That was all it took to break you. You fell into his arms, crying about your father for the first time since you’d learnt of his death. Chenle had stayed with you the whole night, keeping you company and holding you close. He never let you go, not even for a moment.

The funeral was at night. It was a tradition of your kingdom for each living member of the royal family to say their private goodbyes to the deceased. This is for the people closest to them to say goodbye to his spirit. Chenle had gone first, then you and finally, your mother. Then, after the sun sets and the moon rises, you would come together with the people of your kingdom and say goodbye to his body.

You smoothed the non-existent wrinkles out of your dress, checking your hair one last time to make sure it was perfect. You caught the sight of Chenle in your mirror, watching you with a sad smile. He saw you return his smile with an attempt of one of your own and Chenle swore he felt his heart break slightly. Watching the woman he loved getting dressed for her fathers funeral was, to say the least, not a fun sight.

He offered a hand to you, and you shakily took it. You made to leave your room, but Chenle gently squeezed your hand and you paused, looking up at him. He didn’t say anything, yet somehow managed to have a whole conversation with you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, feeling your heart rate calm slightly. Chenle intertwined your fingers, and you both headed out to the funeral.

You were standing on the river side, watching as the small boat your father’s body lay on was carried down. He was dressed in his best clothes, his arms resting on his chest, with his sword in his hands. His eyes were closed and he looked as though he was sleeping. Peace painted across his face for the first time in the many months since the battle. As heartbreakingly painful as losing your father was, there was comfort in knowing that he finally got the rest that he deserved.

The river was decorated with flowers, stray petals and floating candles. Citizens stood beside you, all of them holding a light weight lantern like your own. The soft yellow lights reflected off the river. You knew that your father would have loved how beautiful it all was. He had an eye for those kinds of things.

You moved down the river with the body, following it on it’s journey until the river began to spread out. The people fanned out, forming lines as they watched their king drift off into the distance. Your mother lifted her arms to the sky, showing off her lantern and shouted.

“From this life to his next life. May the king rest in peace.”

“May the king rest in peace.” You repeated, along with every other person present. Only you and Chenle were close enough to hear her whisper.

“Goodbye my love.” And with that she let go of her lantern, watching as it sailed off into the air.

All the people around you followed her example, releasing their floating lanterns into the sky. They spoke to them, saying something to their king before letting them fly.

You looked down at your own, trying to think of what your last words to your father should be. You bit your lip and leaned in closer to it and whispered quietly.

“Goodbye father, I love you.”

You let go.

---

You rolled over in your bed, unable to sleep. Ever since your father’s funeral you’d struggled with falling asleep, your mind too busy to let your body rest. You groaned, throwing the covers off you as you stared up at your ceiling.

Chenle had been keeping you company often, staying by your side, making sure you were alright, and it meant the world to you. You’d begun to find yourself missing him all the time he wasn’t with you, even if he’d just left your side a second ago.

You swung your legs off your bed, knowing you weren’t going to be getting any sleep here. The doors creaked slightly as you opened them, making you wince at the sound. You slipped out of them, shutting them behind you as you made your way through the castle.

You reached Chenle’s room quickly, knocking on the door lightly before going inside. His room was similar to yours in size, and you loved the odd decorations he had that had come with him from Shanghai. The red and gold tapestry that hung on the wall by the door was your personal favourite. You ran your fingers over it gently as you quietly called out for Chenle.

He didn’t reply so you moved further into his room. You turned and stopped when you saw where he was. His balcony. The door to it was shut so you caught his attention when you opened it to join him. He whispered a quiet hello to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he pulled you close.

You leant your head on his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his bare torso and the two of you looked out over the scenery. From this position the two of you could see almost the entire lower town. There were odd yellow squares where you could tell someone’s light was on, but for the most part the town was shrouded in moonlight.

It almost looked too good to be true.

“Are you not cold?” You asked him as a breeze blew past the two of you, worried for you shirtless boyfriend.

“Not really, it gets colder than this in Shanghai, I guess I’m just used to it.” Chenle muttered, his eyes never leaving the scene in front of him. “Couldn’t sleep?” You shook your head sighing as he reassured you. “It’ll come, you just need some time. It’s hard, being in front of the people you have to be a ruler, you can’t show your emotion, especially not with how your mother is struggling. But things will get better. We’ll fix up the outlying villages, we’ll finish some of the tasks your father had hoped for and you’ll get closure. I promise.”

You nodded, feeling more relaxed already. Another breeze ripped through the two of you, causing Chenle to shiver.

“Okay, maybe now I’m cold.” He admitted, reaching behind him to open the door and bring you both back inside. You laughed as you followed him, happily embracing the warmth that his room provided.

You shut the door behind the two of you before following Chenle to his bed. He was already lying down in it, waiting for you with his arms open. You smiled at the sight of him, thinking how you could get used to seeing that. You climbed into his bed, setting down on his chest as he began to run his fingers through your hair.

You nestled your head into his neck, feeling him giggle when you placed feather light kisses on the skin there.  Your hand came up to rest on his chest, your fingers softly tracing the scar from his stab wound. You ran your finger down the healed injury, following every pattern as Chenle watched.

The scare wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small either. It was about 2 inches in length right in the place his shoulder meets his chest. You looked back up at him, another smile stretching across your face. Chenle’s spare hand came to rest on your shoulder, hugging you close to him and he pulled you in to kiss you.

You sighed into the kiss, feeling yourself tire for the first time that night. Chenle felt this too, quietly telling you to sleep when you both pulled away. You rested your head back in his neck before taking a deep breath. The only sign you were still awake was the small movements of your fingers lovingly tracing his scar.

Chenle shut his eyes as he kissed the top of your head, listening to your breathing even out. It was obvious you were close to falling asleep, just managing to whisper out a soft “I love you.” before you drifted off.

It wasn’t the first time you had said it, but no matter how many times Chenle heard it, the warm feeling that blossomed in his chest had never faltered. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling, from being reminded just how completely in love with you he was. And he knew that you were the one he wanted to be with.

“I love you too.” Chenle replied. “More than you’ll ever know.”

Chenle had lost track of how many times he’d thanked fate for bringing him here. For your kingdom to choose his to make an alliance with. For being the one chosen to marry you. Chenle had known for his entire time here that he would marry you, but he had never been so grateful for it as he was in this moment.

---

Within the month since the king’s death, the kingdom was back to normal. You’d buried yourself in your work, taking on more responsibilities to help your mother, finding comfort in finishing the projects your father had started and supported. Chenle had been right, you’d found closure in finishing his work, in making sure that his wishes were fulfilled, and you were finding yourself moving on. 

You still missed him everyday, and you found it difficult at times to finish the work he’d started, knowing how much he would have wanted to see it. But, you were finally looking towards the future, and you knew that he would be relieved at that. He always told you “A good queen ignores the tough times and puts on a happy face for her people. But a true queen, acknowledges when times are hard, and encourages the kingdom to work through it together.” And those were the words you lived by.

You and Chenle had become loved public figures with the whole kingdom being thrilled with the strength of your relationship. It was a sign of hope, of solidarity, of new life in a time where they had been surrounded by loss.

Chenle strolled through the marketplace, his heart beating hard as he turned the gift he had just bought you over in his hands. It wasn’t, by any means, his first time buying you a gift, but he knew that this would be the most important gift he would ever buy.

He quickly made his way back to his room, Jisung waiting for him outside it when he finally arrived. Chenle ignored his friend’s questions, bringing him inside instead.

“You’re late.” Jisung said when Chenle let him speak.

“Yeah, I know, sorry.” Chenle apologised without really meaning it. His nerves were showing through his voice and it was confusing Jisung as to what gift the boy had bought. “I had to visit the royal jeweller to pick this up.”

“What is it?” Jisung asked, leaning over as if he could see into Chenle’s hands.

“It’s just a small gift for y/n.” 

“Yes but what is it?” Jisung asked again exasperated, rolling his eyes at his friend’s density.

“This.” Chenle opened the box the gift was in, Jisung’s jaw dropping at the sight of it. His eyes shot from the jewellery back up to Chenle and back down to the jewellery again as he managed to form a single sentence through his shock.

“That’s an engagement ring.”

---

You were sitting on the cliff overlooking the citadel, your favourite place in the kingdom. Chenle was next to you, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence as you watched the bustle of life in your kingdom below you.

“Do you ever get nervous as to how things will change once we’re crowned?” You asked suddenly, the question hanging dangerously heavily in the air.

Chenle turned to look at you, taking a second to think before he answered, the honesty clear in his voice.

“Yes.” You blinked at his response, almost expecting him to say that he wasn’t worried and everything would be fine. “I get scared about how much more pressure will be on us, especially since we’ll have closer links to Shanghai and we’ll have responsibilities there as well as here. I get worried that we won’t have as much free time, meaning we won’t get days like this anymore when it can just be the two of us. I’m scared to live up to your parents, they’re incredible people and rulers and they set such an example that going after then is kind of nerve wracking. But at the same time, I’m not scared. I’m not scared in the slightest, because I know that, through this all, I’m going to have you by my side no matter what. And if I’ve got you, then I think I can do anything.”

You moved closer to him, curling up into his side and hugging him close, the feeling of his heartbeat giving you an unmatchable comfort.

“You’re very good at those speeches you know?” You mumbled, feeling his chest shake as he chuckled.

“It comes with the job.” He joked, bringing an arm up and squeezing your shoulder. 

He leant down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, sighing into your hair before pulling away.

“We have to get back soon.” You mumbled, him groaning in response.

“Why?” He whined and you laughed in disbelief.

“I don’t know? Maybe because we’re the heirs to the throne and our presence in our kingdom is kind of necessary?” You replied sarcastically and Chenle grabbed you tighter, falling back onto the grass so that you were basically lying on top of him.

“What if we weren’t though?” He suggested, holding up a finger as he saw the look on your face. “Just imagine it for a second, me and you, a simple farming couple. Just us, our fields, our horses and peace. No council meetings, no documents to read, no speeches, no wars, nothing but peace, tranquility and us. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“That... that really would be actually...” You said quietly, picturing the life he imagined. “The simple life, just the two of us-”

“Working in the fields during the days.” 

“And cooking together at night.” You and Chenle got into a rhythm of finishing each other’s sentences, being so in tune with each other and the life you were imagining.

“Having competitions as to who can bring in the most harvest in one go.”

“Rebuilding local houses in our village.”

“Slow dancing in our kitchen late at night.”

“Waking up as the sun rises.”

“With four kids to help us out.”

“Two!”

“Three? One boy and two girls.”

“Deal.”

“And we’d get married with them all there, everyone who matters most to us, surrounded in our little paradise.”

You smiled at the sky, listening to Chenle talk about your future.

“Maybe in one life-”

“Just not this one.” He finished as you shook your head.

“Unfortunately not.” You climbed up, Chenle following as the two of you prepared to make your journey back to the castle. Chenle lifted up the final bag, placing it on Aspen as you took one last look at the view. When attaching it to his saddle, the small box, which contained the gift he’d bought earlier fell out. He quickly picked it up, his heart quickening with nerves as he turned back towards you listening to your words. “We can’t have anything from that.”

“We could have something.” He suggested as you turned around, a confused smile on your face. “I can’t give you a farm, or anything like the simple life we pictured, but I can make you happy. And I’d really love to be able to do that for a very long time.” He brought the gift in front of him, dropping to one knee and opening it.

Your jaw dropped in shock, your hands instinctively coming up to cover your mouth as tears pricked your eyes. You couldn’t believe what was happening, saying it was unexpected was an understatement. You stared at the boy you loved with all your heart as he asked the single most important question you had ever been asked in your life.

“Will you marry me?”

[sprooknooky]

While the Alvarez Empire arc is definitely garbage, I’m probably the one person who doesn’t mind it too much. The unfortunate thing is, it feels more unfinished than anything. Like a rough outline that needs to be fleshed out and have five times the content. I’ve been reworking this arc in my head for around four years now, and I figured I should actually write something down at some point, so here goes.

God Serena is a character that has bothered me since his introduction. All of the Spriggans are bothersome because you’re expected to believe that these crazy strong scary people have just been chilling in a castle for years, but God Serena bothers me the most, though, because supposedly, he’s from Ishgar. Or at least has lived there long enough to be well known. However, there was no mention of him or the other emperors throughout the entire series, so there’s no real impact to hearing that Serena has joined the 12. Oh no, some guy we’ve never heard of, I’m so scared. And sure, that’s one of his flaws. But what makes him even worse is that he’s killed off so fast.

We see him completely wipe out the other emperors, and his power is wildly intense. I remember being so excited to see the power of four dragon slayers (apparently there are eight inside him but there’s only five dragon gods so...) inside one dude. It made his lack of background seem manageable because his powers were demonstrated to be terrifying! I was so hyped to see how Fairy Tail was going to ultimately defeat him.

And all of it was for nothing. He was one shot. He didn’t even go down with a fight. Talk about a disappointment.

I wanted desperately for Serena to still, somehow, be alive. But Neinhart summons his historia, confirming he’s dead. Bullshit. I want my money back.

Jumping forward a bit, another thing that disappointed me was the finale. That final fight against Acnologia was reduced to... a punch? A punch killed the so-called “strongest” character in the series. This is not One Punch Man. This is Fairy Tail. At least give me something.

So, to combine these two issues, I have devised a better fight. And while the details aren’t fully fleshed out, enjoy what floats around in my brain all day.

The fight starts out about the same way. Acnologia’s “spirit” (who I’ll just call Acnologia because it’s easier) pulls all the dragon slayers into the space between time to kill them all or something. I don’t remember the specifics and I’m not too interested in checking. They all break out of their crystal things and fight Acnologia, Wendy enhancing their strength and everyone engaging their dragon forces to be at max power. They fight for a while, but they don’t get many hits in, and Acnologia takes them down easily. The seven dragon slayers lay there in defeat, wishing they could get up and fight more, but the fights with Alvarez drained them, and they’re barely able to move, let alone fight. But then they notice there’s still a guy in a crystal that hasn’t been broken out. Acnologia too busy gloating to notice them, they manage to break Serena out of his crystal, and he staggers over to Acnologia.

The real fight begins.

Acnologia is shocked. He was positive he killed this guy 80 chapters ago, but here he is. Outraged, he exclaims, “How’re YOU here? I thought I killed you!”

God Serena laughs and says something cocky like, “It’ll take more than that to kill me. You merely caught me off guard!” And then he strikes a dumb pose or something.

They fight, and this time, it’s a close battle. After learning about the 100 Years Quest and the god dragons, I have a headcannon that Serena was raised by them and they acted as his parents or older siblings. He was raised by them, much like Natsu and the others, to eventually kill or “seal” them away. While fighting, Acnologia notices that Serena’s dragon slayer magic is different than he’s used to, and he asks him what exactly he is. Serena doesn’t do a good job of explaining, because, well, he’s Serena, and for 100YQ to exist there still needs to be mystery behind the god dragons. He does explain, though, that he is a god dragon slayer, and his dragon slayer magic is stronger than those raised by normal dragons. Then, just to flex on everybody, he shows off his six dragon forces, (yes, six, this man is practically a god himself and he needs to showcase it) one for each god dragon and their element, and then a final one combining all of his power. Acnologia doesn’t fall, but he takes a serious beating fighting back against Serena, and is severely injured. However, despite Serena’s power, Acnologia was able to land some serious blows on him as well. Serena eventually gets too cocky with his power and Acnologia takes advantage of this, dealing a harsh blow that will finally kill Serena.

While all of this is happening, the other dragon slayers are able to recover a little to continue the fight. They at first wonder who Serena is, before recognizing him as not only the strongest man on Ishgar, but as a member of the Alvarez Empire and therefore their enemy. When he finally falls, they ask him why he worked so hard to help them in the end. Serena explains that he never meant to betray Ishgar, far from it. He joined Alvarez for the opportunity to put an end to Acnologia, a threat to all dragons, and to grow stronger to finally defeat the dragon gods. He expresses regrets about how he would never see his family again, but then admits that he didn’t want to kill them in the first place, and entrusts the job to Natsu instead, hence why Natsu decides to go on the 100 years quest, because otherwise it seemed a little unprompted to me. Pledging to finish what Serena started, Natsu and the other dragon slayers stand up to put an end to Acnologia.

Acnologia continues to act cocky, but Serena hurt him more than he’d like to admit, and he struggles to even stand. Now, in my mind, finishing him off in a single shot makes sense, because there was actually a fight to weaken him. The slayers all send their energy to Natsu, he does a big punch, and Acnologia declares him king of the dragons before fading away.

I never watched the episodes on Acnologia’s backstory that they added to the anime because I’m always going to prefer the manga, so I don’t know if I screwed anything up there, but honestly, I don’t think Acnologia needed a backstory. He’s a threatening villain and I don’t think he necessarily needed a motive, especially right before he dies. Then it has no impact.

Hopefully this made sense... I don’t write any of my dumb fairy tail thoughts down that often, but this one made me actually like Serena a little because otherwise he’s very underdeveloped and wasted potential.

Thanks for reading until the end! I’m going to take a nap, now.

[crystal-moon-101]

Right! So I’ve decided to do some redesigns again, planning on doing the main villains of Generator Rex, Ben 10 and The Secret Saturdays. Vilgax and Argost will be coming up soon, but I thought I’d start with Van Kleiss, as this fellow has been an interest of mine for sometime, in terms of the potential of his character. Unlike the other two, I’ve always just...felt like Van Kleiss didn’t need to be dog kicking evil to be a villain for Rex, that being evil for the sake of evil wasn’t something they needed to do to make him and Rex opposed to each other. I’m not saying to make Van Kleiss soft hearted and kind to every person he meets, but add more of a complicated story to him, show more to this man than just a jerk who likes being a jerk. After all, this is a show about things not being so black and white. So I shall share my rewrite background for him! I should also note that I mentioned in the Hong Kong Gang redesign that Circe is his daughter, so that will tie into this. Warning for mentions of deaths by illnesses and murder!

“Van Kleiss is a man you could say has not had the easiest of life, especially when it comes to social things. Raised by strict parents with high expectations, he felt like he was never good enough for them, eventually kicked out of their home for not living up to their ideals. He wasn’t exactly good with making things either, coming off as odd, a strong loner who was easy to mess with. Most of this resulted in him being anti-social for quite sometime, afraid to reach a out hand to people incase they bite back. Then, while trying to live his young adult life the best he could with what he had, he was caught up in a terrible accident, one that resulted in him losing his left arm. He was stuck in recovery for a long time, with no visitors of course. He was quite use to being alone at this point, a cast out in people’s eyes, so you could imagine his surprise when meeting his physiotherapy, a bright, young woman around his age by the name Cassandra, who was in no way put off by Van Kleiss’s demeanor. He will admit, he was taken aback by how pleasant she was, so chipper and ready to strike up a conversation with him, kind and gentle towards him as she helped him learn to live with a prosthetic, and yet would also respect his boundaries, treating him....human, for a lack of a better word. At first, Van Kleiss was keen to just stay quiet and ignore her, mostly uttering how short sentences to try and make things process quicker. But there was just something about her that made him feel alright, calm, as if those walls he built up to protect himself weren’t needed when she was around. It was like some strange magic Cassandra had, slowly able to get him to open up more, share stories, ideas, goals, dreams, thoughts, never once judging Van Kleiss for the person he is, while others had been so quick to. Quite the people pleasing person she was, the opposite to Van Kleiss, but he wasn’t complaining, especially when the fool started realizing his he beginning to fall head over heels for this woman. He was a bumbling mess when asking her out the first time, and yet it somehow worked. Life seemed to be going up hill since then, the two hitting it off so fast, becoming a couple, then finances, and suddenly marriage was right around the corner. And just when Van Kleiss felt like he didn’t need anyone else other than her, another surprise came in the presence of their daughter, Circe. A family life wasn’t something he had thought about, nor did he think he would ever get the chance, but here he was and he was happy to be there, he had even gone back to school to study. But...he bad luck in life would soon return. Circe had only just turned five when it began to happen, and no one had seen it coming. Cassandra was starting to seem off, tired, dizzy and feeling faint often, at first assuming it was the flu or something...but she didn’t get better, instead getting worse. She started collapsing, struggling to breath, eventually coughing up blood. She had gotten sick, a disease infecting her that had no known cure. The best they could do was pray that she could recover, could beat it, after all she was a tough woman, with a lot of hope and love from her family. Sadly, love isn’t always going to be enough, and Cassandra passed away after saying her final goodbyes to her daughter and husband... Struck with grief, Van Kleiss went quiet, a haze with his manners. He wanted to scream, cry, yell at the world for taking away his love, the one who showed him why he should keep going in life. But he didn’t allow himself, for he had to keep himself steady for the sake of his daughter. Circe needed him, and he was afraid to see what would happen if he gave into those painful feelings of grief inside him. So he locked it away, and pushed forward in life, eventually graduating school and began looking for a job. He applied and worked for a few places, but none of them really stick, especially since he still struggled to get along with people. Many were still uncomfortable around him, or quick to crack a nasty joke at his expense. He did his best to ignore it, again locking it all away, pushing forward for him and his daughter. And then, one day, he caught word of a project in the making. The nanite project, rumors of microscope machines being built to do many tasks, like solve world hunger, regrow limbs and even cure disease. The thought of something able to help others survive something his wife could not...it caught Van Kleiss’s interest, something he could do to honor his late wife. And so, after some applications and interviews, Van Kleiss eventually found himself landing a role in this project, which also meant him and Circe would move to the labs location. It was hard to pull Circe away from the life she already knew, but he felt it was for the better. But there were to noticeable issues right away. Again, the way people saw and treated him, and his general demeanor sparked some problems with other scientists. Most kept it professional, but many cast doubtful or harsh clears his way, or mutter whispers about him. He was use to most of this, though...he did end up caught in quite the nasty rivalry with a certain man. Caesar Salazar. Neither of them knew exactly why, but right from the bat the two did not like each other. Maybe it was because they were similar in many ways, maybe it’s because they both were bad a socializing, maybe each other’s backgrounds caused some sparks. They just could not stand each other, quick to criticize the other and speak badly. It did help that Van Kleiss felt like he had no one backing him up, as many were already familiar with the Salazars and were even friends with them, while Van Kleiss was alone in the ordeal. Strangely though, the opposite could be said with the younger brother, Rex Salazar. It didn’t take long for Circe and Rex to meet and become friends, given they were the only two kids there, which often resulted in Van Kleiss watching and babysitting the two in his lab space, sometimes even getting dragged into their games. He was happy that his daughter wouldn’t be lonely out here, but Rex being her friend wasn’t why he thought the kid was good, it was rather his friendship with Van Kleiss himself. Rex was a lovely kid, very kind and understanding for his age. While he cracked jokes and often got into trouble, he treated Van Kleiss like a human being, and often liked talking to the man and asking him many questions. Van Kleiss was a little stand-offish at first, but the kid managed to soften his heart a little. Things seemed to be going as good as they could for a while, but then things started happening. It first started with Rex’s accident. Van Kleiss had been watching Circe and Rex, but when he got caught in something, the two snuck off to play hide and seek. Next thing anyone knew, Rex got caught in a lab accident in the main nanite room. It took a while to get him out of there, as there had been a lock down to prevent any loss nanites to escape, but he was quick to be rushed to the medical section of the labs. He was found to be close to death, with no normal means to save him, but Rex also had a few nanites in him from the accident. However, instead of taking them out, the nanite project group, including Van Kleiss, decided in the end to try and use the nanites to save him, with the help of the Omega to the side. After a long struggle, it eventually began to work. Things became complicated for Rex, now being used in testing, developing strange technological powers he was struggling to control, now feeling off...different. Van Kleiss and Circe were there to support him, but because Van Kleiss had been the one who was suppose to watch him before the accident, there was tension between the Salazar and Kleiss families. Eventually, while there were new changes, lab life started to go back to focusing on the project, even a new member called Ebony Hale (Black Knight) joining as an assistant. Things started going back to normal, or as normal as they could be, until that fateful day. Word got out in the chief scientist that their sponsors, The Consortium, had no only put a unknown spy among them, but were planning to use the nanites to take over the world. A large debate broke out on what to do, some arguing to destroy the nanites and all the data on them, some saying to keep the project going but find a way to keep the Consortium out of it, and some even saying they just wanted to do the project and didn’t care if the Consortium taking control. Van Kleiss was part of the side saying to keep the work, but kick out the Consortium. But eventually it was decided to destroy the project. But the spy must have caught wind of this, as while they began to remove their work, the Consortium sent in a heavily armed team to take out everyone on the project. During the chaos many things happened. Not having time to get rid of everything, members of the project decide to give Rex the Omega to hold onto, as he has enough experience with nanites to handle it for a few hours. Van Kleiss did try to say otherwise, not thinking it was fear on Rex, especially when his parents and Caesar agreed to this. In the end they did end up giving Rex the Omega, with the plan that he would meet Caesar at the docking bay. Van Kleiss had originally wanted to go with him and take Circe, but next thing they knew armed soldiers came in and everyone spilt. Rex managed to wander by as not only did the soldiers have no interest with the kid, but Ebony, who turned out to be the spy, ended up letting him past without knowing what he was hiding. Van Kleiss and Circe ended up running into Rex’s parents, who were busy trying to wipe the computers. The three parents got into quite the arguments, with Van Kleiss eventually leaving the room with his daughter, only to be confronted by some soldiers. They noted that the room that Van Kleiss just left was locked, so they made him an...offer. Either he unlocks the door and let them in, or they kill him and Circe where they stand. Despite how harsh the Salazars were on Van Kleiss, even he didn’t want to make this choice...but after everything, and looking down at his own daughter...he made the choice to let them in, holding his daughter as they heard gun fire. With everything coming to a head, it suddenly happened. With scientist messing with computers and machines, soldiers raining bullets everything, and Rex off somewhere glitching out with the Omega, it just became too much and the nanite event happened. A massive explosion that sent out a wave of unfinished nanites across the world, and for Van Kleiss, everything went white briefly... Then, he opened his eyes...finding himself feeling different. To his shock, he found himself to be mutated, his prosthetic arm gone, now replaced with an arm of wood and vines, a deep connection to the earth around him. Thankfully, his daughter was still by his side, but she two had changed, with the agility to emit a powerful scream. As days turned to weeks and then to months, Van Kleiss found himself turning his old home into something new...into a place that him and the out cast could belong into...But after everything that happened, the things he lost and was hurt by, he began to put up those walls again. He could no longer risk getting attached, not if he were to complete his goals....” And there we go! My tale about Van Kleiss in my rewrite. It does go into other things that I will eventually write down that happened in this rewrite, but it’s a good place to start as any. I wanted to give him a tragic back story, something that shows why he behaves the way he does today, and how it ties into his goals. I like the idea that he does believe in the dream of turning everyone EVO and ruling them, but so that he can start a new age and era where people don’t have to be out casts anymore. After all, if everyone is different a monster, then no one can be judged, at least in his mindset. So Abysus is a safe haven for EVOs that need a home, and he does want the best for his subject. The only problem is that one, Van Kleiss doesn’t want to get deeply attached to anyone, as many past friendships eventually failed on him, so it’s bound to happen again, and two, he can get a little power made because well, he’s spent so long being the underdog and kick to the ground, so it feels great to be able to be the one standing tall. It also helps make him feel like Rex’s opposite, not only with the nature vs technology design for the two, but the idea that one is someone who wants to get attached to people, while the other is someone who doesn’t want to get attached anymore. A tragic hero and a tragic villain, who have history tied together. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my version of Van Kleiss, and for hearing me ramble! 💙

[sconnie-doesnt-know]

Chapter 2

Characters - Reader, Ransom Drysdale, assorted OCs 

Word count - 3100

Warnings - Drinking, language, sexual content

A/N - Hope you enjoy the next installment of my Ransom series. Still setting things up in the chapter, but we’re moving along. For a while, there will be a good amount of heavy drinking and the questionable choices that go along with that, just FYI. Remember this is fiction and the acts are not recommended. They will also be acknowledged later if you are concerned. 

Feedback is wonderful, & if you notice any errors please let me know!

Dividers made by @firefly-graphics​

Chapter 1

You order drinks plus shots. 

“To another fucking week,” you salute with Whitney. It burns, and it’s sweet, and you just want it to act fast.

“Yeah, another one.” She grabs hers, salutes, and tosses it back back. She cringes for a few seconds, but once she recovers, she picks right up with half of a conversation you weren’t having. “So, are you gonna take someone home tonight?”

“You’re more worried about my sex life than your own.” You shake your head at her.

“After what that asshole did to you, you deserve all the good fucking. I’m just trying to find a good dick to help you forget.”

“Wow, that’s sweet in a weird way.” You shake your head again, but smile this time.

“Well, it’s true. I also don’t want to feel bad if I ditch you later for my own fuck buddy.” She wiggles her eyebrows like a cartoon villain. At least she’s giving you a warning this time and not just disappearing on you later.

“Jesus, Whit. Yeah okay.” You can’t help but laugh with her. “It’s just,” you survey the group around you, “You never really know what you’re gonna find at the end of the night.”

“Uhhh, yeah. That’s what having a one-night stand is...Oh hi.” She offers a dazzling smile to a cute guy pushing next to her at the bar.

You wait a few seconds for her attention to return before you mutter, “I am well aware.”

“So pick a partner and do-si-do. Come on, cowgirl,” she nudges you, nodding to the guy in the fraying straw hat next to you. Nothing seems to deter her.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you giggle. 

She smiles and shrugs. A few minutes pass as she looks you over, studying you.

“You’re being weird about this.”

“I know.” You nibble on the straw in your glass for a moment before getting to where your mind’s been stuck for hours. “So hey, that guy we hung out with? Ransom?”

“No.” She shakes her head hard from side to side, a slightly manic giggle coming out between the repeated, “No, no. No.”

“What?” you try to sound casual, indifferent, but she knows you too well. “I just want to know what his deal is.”

“You don’t,” she insists, shaking her head.

“Why? Did you sleep with him?” 

“No, I haven’t.” She pauses for a moment, you can see she’s actually thinking over her answer. “He’s just gonna get what he wants from you and push you away.”

“You do realize that’s exactly what you’ve been telling me to do? So I should screw someone, but not him...because that’s what he does?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait, are he and Michelle a thing? I don’t want any extra relationship drama.”

“Psshh, yeah, god knows you’ve had enough of that.” She stares off into the middle distance before shaking her head and focusing again. “No, they’re not together either, but please? Please? Just promise me you’re not interested in Ransom.”

“Okay, but why?”

“I don’t know, I guess I don’t really think you’re his type.” She lets the words hang, and you’re unsure how to interpret them until you finally settle on hurt. You physically recoil a bit when the sting of her words hits.

“Wow, ouch. What the hell does that mean?” You look down into your lap, looking yourself over really quickly and not finding anything major sticking out.

“I just don’t see it. Trust me, and tell me you’re not being serious with this.” 

Even with her strange and kind of harsh reaction, you can’t get rid of the swooping feeling you get in your stomach just thinking about him. So, you try to purse your lips to control the uncomfortable smile trying to break through. You want to assure your friend, but can’t lie to her either...at least not well. 

“I’m totally not,” you finally say with an awkward laugh behind it. Again, failing miserably to play off nonchalance. 

She sees it all and knows you’re full of shit. “No one will have any respect for you if you fuck around with him.” She says, matter-of-factly.

Where this is all coming from, you have no idea.

“You’re being mean and cryptic and I don’t like it. I’m not even saying that anything’s going to happen, but that sounds a little extreme, Whit. Come on,” you whine.

She rolls her eyes. “It’s not. Just find someone and ask him to buy you a drink. Look around, you can pick anyone, but I am not enabling you and Ransom,” she quickly adds.

You try to lighten the mood by teasing her about having standards, but can’t find much ground to stand on when she brings The Ex into the discussion. She’s really on a roll tonight and pulling no punches. It’s not what you wanted or needed from the night. You came out with a mission to have fun, so you take a deep breath and decide to be the bigger person.

“Hey Whit?”

She keeps her eyes on the bar in front of her, letting you know she’s still somewhat annoyed at you. “Yesss?”

“This week sucked. Let’s get trashed.” You sling your arms around her shoulders and shake her until she laughs with you. Her party-friend is back in action.

“Fuck. Yes.”

You struggle to go along with Whitney’s plan for your night, especially when the Cowboy and just about every other guy she pushes your way fail to keep your interest. Not that you’d never had a one-night stand, but just that lately they’d been pretty awful experiences and you wondered far too often lately what a life of celibacy would look like. It’s much easier to dismiss the guys and remember that at least your vibrator can get the job done.

Before last call you give in and you text Jeff. Yes, the Jeff with whiskey dick who left you high and dry last time as Whitney reminds you with a giggle. He sounds genuinely happy to hear from you again and promises to make up for last time which makes it seem worth it to give him another shot. He’s tall, fit, with long fingers and if you remember correctly, a decent enough dick.

He manages to stay hard this time around, and he takes his time feeling you up, but the two of you can’t find a rhythm that works. You finally bat his hand away and rub yourself off while he pumps sloppily into you. Afterward, he leans in for a kiss and you turn away to give him your cheek. Getting dressed, you give him a few non-committal answers when he asks about seeing you again, and at the end of it all, you’re most grateful that you didn’t take him to your place. 

You spread out alone in your own bed and think over Whitney’s words.

Whitney knows more than a few of your dirty secrets; the friendship between you two had blossomed quickly with your guard easily let down. She never really judged you, at least not openly, which left you swirling in doubt for days, obsessing over what would probably end up being nothing. 

What made you not his type - looks? Money? Another woman? She never really had a filter, but she was being so short on the topic of Ransom which made you think even harder, rooting through some more recent bad memories.

“Am I a bad person?” you ask Carrie during the week.

“What? No!”

You accept her answer with a nod, silently thinking.

“I wonder if I should just take a break.” When Carrie looks at you funny, you clarify, “Like, maybe I am finding these losers because I am not all that great myself? These guys are all just…”

“Babe, you’re meeting them at bars...with Whitney.”

You heave in a deep sigh, “I know. And she’s not that bad.” A humorless laugh escapes. “Maybe I am aiming too high or something?”

“There’s no such thing.” You see her shoulders shift, fire in her eyes and protective mode activated like she’s done a few times in staff meetings. “What happened?” she asks.

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

Whitney laughs when you tell her you’re thinking of taking a break.

“Was Jeff that bad? I thought you said he was good with his fingers.”

You look around, even if Whitney has forgotten she’s in public, you haven’t. No one else reacts though, thankfully.

“You’re such a bitch,” you sigh. She fakes offense which you ignore. “No, he wasn’t that bad, I just want to find a nice guy. I don’t know.”

Her already buzzed gaze moves somewhere over your shoulder, “Oh whoa, stop that thought. There’s a guy behind you that looks like he wants to bend you over right here. So,” she drags out, “How about we see how that goes and forget about Jeff, and nice for a while.”

She adjusts her own posture, subtly popping up her tits and tilting her chin down to offer him and enticing smile.

‘Jeff isn’t the problem,’ you think to yourself, but she’s already moving forward with her plan for your night. You toss back the shot she places in front of you and turn to check him out.

It’s not happening, even as tipsy as you currently are, this guy with the ironic mullet hovering next to you and trying to get handsy is not getting into your pants. You know it, Whitney knows it (even if she continues to flirt with his friend), hell - the people in the space station know it… but Mullet Guy is oblivious. It’s embarrassing. 

You sit there with your hands over half of your face, wishing he’d leave you alone, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Turning, you see a familiar pretty face surrounded by blonde hair.

“Do you need some help?” Michelle asks, eyeing the guy next to you.

You’re surprised she even recognized you, let alone approached you, but you’re desperate to take the help where you can get it. “Oh my god, yes.” 

She gives you a knowing grin, “You’ll find some of us in the corner booth in the back.”

“You sure?” you ask, still thrown off by the interaction and nearly stumbling off the bar stool. “What about Whitney?” 

“I’ll get her,” She gives you a little nudge. 

You slip past the guy hopelessly hitting on you, mumbling and hoping he doesn’t follow and head down the aisle alongside the bar until you reach the large, corner booth. A few faces look familiar, but when he looks up you consider turning back. Judging by his smirk, there’s no chance of that happening.

You raise your voice to be heard over the noise of the bar, “Um, Michelle sent me over,” your nerves turning it into a question rather than a statement.

Ransom raises an eyebrow like he’s about to ask a question, but nudges the people next to him to make them get up and make room for you.

“Oh, no that’s...I’ll just sit on the end.” You try to politely wave them off, but they’re already up.

“Come on in, sweetheart,” he invites you, arm thrown over the back of the seat and your heart beats double-time with just how much you want it wrapped around you. The two people who vacated their spots shift impatiently and you clumsily sit down and start to scoot over under your knee bumps into his, making you immediately stop and apologize.

“You here all alone?” he asks, swirling his drink, the ring on his pinky finger flashing in the light.

“Nah,” Michelle reappears and speaks up for you as she sets down a few glasses onto the table, “Whitney’s here, but she’s got some company. This lucky lady,” she points to you and continues with a light laugh in her voice, “Was just looking miserable with some idiot not taking a hint.”

“You should’ve just told him to fuck off.” Ransom says.

You look over the crowd, finding Mullet Guy waiting for you back at your seat. His eyes droopy from the liquor and Whitney swaying with his companion. 

“I know, I just don’t like doing that. Plus, uh, I think Whitney is trying to fuck his friend.”

“So leave her. She’s a big girl and can handle herself.”

After that he continues the conversation he was having with the others before you arrived, and once again, you sit there silently watching. 

If you can call anyone the leader in the group, it is Ransom. Watching the way the other guys at the table defer to him and how he responds to what they say makes it obvious. He knows it too, practically sitting here holding court at the big square booth. 

The conversation isn’t all that interesting, at least not to you. Some kind of pissing contest the guys are having involving some sports stats. Every now and again you hear them say something so blatantly wrong, but you don’t know them well enough to correct them. With the underhanded comments and passive aggressive insults, you can’t help but wonder if any of them are actually friends. Eventually, your attention wanders over the rest of the bar patrons.

“Am I keeping you from something?” Ransom startles you with how close he is, body still but eyes roaming. You suck in a deep breath, smelling the alcohol and his cologne which makes your mouth water.

“N-no, sorry,” you struggle to come up with an excuse for zoning out, “Just looking for Whitney.”

He tips his head, “She’s right where you left her.” You follow his line of sight, finding her easily. 

“Oh. Yeah.” 

The way his face goes impassive unsettles you, like it was the wrong answer. “We’re boring you. That’s alright. Let’s talk about you.”

“Not much that you’d be interested in, I think.” Whitney’s assertion that you’re not his type replays in your head

“I don’t know about that. I have a lot of interests.” He stares at you with this look on his face, like he’s listening to something funny, but his eyes are serious. It’s intimidating when combined with the way he’s lounged so comfortably next to you, taking up the space like he owns it and yours. His tone, and the little tickle from his fingers against your shoulder feels like flirting, and now your inner voice begs you to remember how to fucking flirt. ‘For the love of god, shake off the nerves and flirt with this gorgeous creature.’ You take a deep breath and try to sink into it.

“What do you want to know?” You ask, setting your elbow on the table and propping your face on your palm while you turn even further toward him.

One side of his face lifts almost into a smile. He starts with a few basic questions, finding out you’re not from the city, how long you’ve been around. He ignores what you ask in return, continuing with his rapid-fire questioning.

“How do you know that little brat?” he asks with a tiny flick in the direction of the bar.

“Whitney?” you chuckle and he nods, “Friend of a friend; she practically became attached at my hip once we started going out together.”

“A quiet little mouse like you and her? Really?”

“I promise you, I’m not always so quiet,” you challenge.

“See, now that is interesting. Think I’d like to see that,” he answers, eyes giving you a quick up-down in your seat.

In the seconds it takes for you to process that he is indeed flirting and you need to respond, the moment is broken by a high-pitched voice.

“There you are! You fucking ditched me.” Whitney practically howls at you. You feel like a child who got caught out after curfew as you see her eyes move between you and Ransom. “What’s happening here?”

The alcohol has settled enough to remove some of your tension. With that and her overdramatic reaction, trying to control the urge to giggle at being caught is impossible, so you bite down on your lips to keep the grin from your face. “Nothing,” you answer, poorly faking innocence.

Ransom’s eyes stay on you, you can feel it, but he talks to your friend, “We were just getting to know each other better.” He turns to look at her, “Sit down with us,” his tone almost sounding like an order.

“Getting to know each other?” she asks you pointedly. 

You can’t understand what her problem is with him, especially since he’s her friend. At this point, you’re too intrigued. It’s not like there’s any point in trying to deny that you’re attracted to him with half your body leaning into him like he’s a magnet, but for some reason you think you see real disappointment in her eyes. Biting your lip, you take a peek at him to find him waiting for your response; he’s already smug with the attention.

“Yeah.” 

“What about your break?” she spits out.

You feel too many people looking at you, but you can’t answer, too shocked that she’s put you on the spot like this.

“Remember?” she asks like you’re forgetful, “You’re taking a break because you’re looking for a nice guy.” She over-enunciates as she stares daggers at Ransom.

“Why don’t you get the stick out of your ass, Whitney. I’ve been nice all night, haven’t I sweetheart?” The hostility between the two makes your back go rigid, anxious for the moment to end and the spotlight to be directed anywhere else.

“I’m fine,” you tell her as firmly as you can.

She shakes her head at you, but sits down anyway, jumping right into flirty conversation with Eric who is sitting at the end of the booth, notably there without the girl from the other weekend.

“Hmm,” Ransom hums right against your ear, making your skin tingle. “I think someone just got in trouble.” He’s clearly amused and not sounding remorseful at all.

He makes a move then. It’s slight, but you feel him tuck you a little further under his arm. Part of you is glad Whitney is distracted, but the other part wants her to notice it and realize she might be wrong.

“I…yeah,” you stumble over your words, confused and flustered between the two of them. Chest tight and pulling in short breaths and stomach swooping with excitement, you internally scream, begging for him to make it worth it.

[sher-soc-the-famder]

i rly need some platonic fluff too... maybe Thomas and Logan? those sweet sweet platonic cuddles. maybe one is sick?

Optimal Recovery

Summary: Logically, taking care of yourself is the best and most efficient way to feel better.

Word Count: 1833

Warnings: N/A, just some fluffy fluff here

Notes: This was fun :D I really do need to write more with character Thomas

Read on AO3

~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ 

The screen in front of Thomas wavered, the black lines of text bleeding into each other. He ran his hand over his eyes. The glare of the screen drilled into his head, but he was already behind on his work. God, if he wasn't always behind on his work. He took a deep breath and felt his breath catch. Coughs shuddered through his body until he curled in on himself, clutching at his chest. 

He took a deep breath, pulling his shaking hand away from himself. He reached for the keyboard of his laptop again. Only to yank his hand away as it clicked shut. Thomas followed the arm that closed it up to meet Logan's eyes. Logan raised an eyebrow at him.

"As grateful as I am that you are focusing on your work," Logan said steadily, "I believe that now is not the correct time for that diligence."

"But-"

Logan reached up from the laptop and laid a hand across Thomas' forehead. Thomas leaned into the cool touch gratefully, only peripherally aware of the way that Logan sighed. He slumped forwards even more, pressed up against Logan's steady presence.

"You are running a temperature," Logan said. Thomas tried not to whine as Logan pulled his hand away. He didn't think that he succeeded. Logan frowned briefly; Thomas blinked wondering if he imagined the expression before Logan started to poke at his shoulder. "Combined with your cough, headache and dizziness, the most likely diagnosis for your condition is a cold. Ample bed rest and hydration should lead to a swift recovery."

"But I don't wanna move," Thomas whined.

Logan sighed again. He poked at Thomas' shoulder again until he leaned back deeper into the chair that he sat on. Thomas blinked at him slowly, trying to fight through the fog that covered his brain. Thinking about it, that might be why he was struggling so much to make progress on his script. 

"There will be time to catch up on your work later," Logan said, sweeping Thomas' laptop away, "I shall make sure of it. Our current focus should be regaining your health. Preferably before Virgil decides that it means that you're dying. Again."

"I mean, I could be-"

Logan pointed a finger at him.

"Don't. Just- don't."

Thomas grinned at him. He really should spend more time with Logan. He needed more teasing if that was his reaction to a joke. Thomas had four brothers and six figments of his imagination; he totally knew how family like this worked.

"Stay there," Logan said, and Thomas lurched forward in panic anyways when Logan stepped away. The world spun around him and only the cool hand on his shoulder kept him from falling out of his chair completely. His breath caught, and another round of coughs left his entire body shaking. Logan pushed him gently back into the chair once more with a frown. 

“I am confident that you are aware of the definition of stay, so I am confused as to why you act like you don’t,” Logan muttered almost more to himself than to Thomas.

"Don't go," Thomas said more than asked, reaching for Logan's shirt with his shaking fingers. He never liked being alone in the first place; Virgil and Patton both could attest to that. Seeing Logan turn his back and panicking wasn't a logical response but well. Thomas thought he could be forgiven for having one irrational thought while sick.

Logan eyed him for a long moment. Thomas tightened his grip on Logan's polo. For a wild moment, Thomas worried that Logan would simply disappear as his Sides could, and then Thomas would be left alone to deal with his cold. He could. For all his joking about it, he was an adult who could deal with things like this. He just preferred not to.

Logan gripped his hand gently and pulled it free.

"I won't be long," Logan said, his voice as soft as when he tried to comfort Patton or Virgil or even Roman. Thomas wondered why they didn't hear that tone more often. "I am simply going to collect the supplies that you will need and I'll be right back." He looked Thomas straight (gay) in the eyes. "I promise."

Thomas let his hand drop and watched as Logan turned to rifle through his kitchen cabinets. At least the kitchen was in view of his sitting space. He could still watch Logan collect a glass of water and what looked like saltines as he set them down on the counter. Logan leaving to gather things from upstairs however-

Thomas finally closed his eyes, even as the black spots swan underneath them. It was better than watching Logan get swallowed up by the stairs. With his own heart racing, from the cold or from his anxiety, Thomas spent a brief moment to hope that Virgil was holding up alright.

He focused in the quiet, steady footsteps making their way around his apartment. He tried to time his breathing to the movements, even if Logan did stop every once and awhile. Thomas let himself drift, not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying not to shiver. From the cold or the anxiety, it didn’t matter.

He jumped at a hand on his shoulder.

"Thomas." Thomas blinked at Logan slowly. He glanced around, taking in the light blanket that Logan must have grabbed from the bedroom, along with a stack of books and movies. He looked down and sighed at what Logan held in his hands. Thomas made a face at the medicine but took it gratefully anyways.

He swallowed the pills first, and took the glass of water when Logan handed it to him. He drank it slowly, under Logan’s watchful eyes. Thomas almost wanted to point out that Logan didn’t need to hover that close but refrained. He took the liquid cough syrup less gratefully and felt his face scrunch up at the taste. Logan watched him down it all sharply, nodding to himself as he swept it all away and set it down on the kitchen counter.

"I will set an alarm on your phone for a reminder when you need the next dose." Logan's eyes already scanned the room for the intended device. "I would encourage you to rest in the meantime. I have picked out a selection of media that you might enjoy without having to get up. There is the choice of netflix as well, though you will want to make sure that you keep a steady amount of water intake as well."

Thomas jumped in while Logan took a small pause to breath.

"Well, you'll be here to make sure that I do, right?"

Logan blinked, caught off guard. Thomas wished that he was better at reading his Sides. He knew they weren't always the best to each other, heck he wasn't the best to them at times. He wanted to work on that. Thomas patted at the spot next to him on the couch.

He could see Logan hesitate, foot shifting forward and a quiet twitch of his cheek.

"I don't think you can catch it from me," Thomas reasoned, trying to coax Logan closer. "Plus isn't there something about how contact with others releases good hormones and stuff to help people recover faster?"

“There have been studies proving that physical touch can boost immune systems and release the hormone known as oxytocin which helps promote positive thinking, optimism, and trust," Logan said. He paused and adjusted his tie. "So you are correct, in a sense. Are-" he cleared his throat. "Are you sure?"

Thomas fought not to roll his eyes. He reached out as soon as Logan got close enough and pulled him onto the couch. Thomas shuffled around for a bit, until he had curled up in the blanket that Logan had given him and pressed up against Logan's side. He ignored the stiff way that Logan held himself.

"So," he said cheerfully, "I'm thinking of a documentary."

"The chances that you retain any information from a documentary at this point in time is rather low," Logan said, slowly starting to relax. Thomas let himself melt into Logan, relishing in the warmth even if he knew logically he was more overheated than under.

"Yeah, but it would be fun," Thomas didn't shrug, but only because that would upset the careful balance that Logan gave off. Also, he could lose his blanket. "Plus, we'd get to watch it again later to actually learn things from it."

"In that case," Logan adjusted his glasses, "Disney plus is connected to National Geographic and has a wide selection of nature documentaries that we could peruse."

Thomas beamed up at him and handed him the remote. 

"I'm supposed to be hydrating," Thomas told him, "and I only have one hand free so." He waved the one hand outside of his blanket burrito to emphasize his point and ignored the small huff of breath that came from Logan. He pointedly grabbed his glass to further his point as Logan scrolled through their options.

He carefully set the glass back down and let his body relax onto the couch and adjusted to find the most comfortable position against Logan. He didn’t want to disturb Logan too much, so despite his initial feelings of simply climbing into his logical Side’s lap, Thomas wiggled down to his shoulder pressed into Logan’s side. He lay his head against Logan’s chest and grinned to himself.

He could be feeling better, but at least this way he'd get something out of it. Thomas glanced up at the intense way that Logan stared at the television, most likely trying to pick the "best" option that could hold the most correct information while being something useful that they could use on top of whatever logical thoughts that went through his head. Logan didn’t even seem to have noticed the change in positions. Thomas felt his grin widen as he turned to the television.

Yeah, this way he got something out of it, and he wasn't even the only person too.

~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~

Logan startled as Thomas' phone alarm went off. He froze as the weight against his side shifted. He reached out and tapped the dismiss button. Thomas shifted again, murmuring slightly and settling into a more comfortable position against him. 

Logan didn't know when they had started to cuddle on the couch but-

He glanced at the documentary still playing on the television and back to Thomas' sleeping form. He reached out and tucked the blanket so that it sat more securely around Thomas' shoulder, adjusted Thomas' neck so that he wouldn't cramp and then gave him an awkward pat on the head. Logan turned his focus back to the documentary and made a mental note to make sure Thomas took his medicine when he woke up.

He turned the volume down on the documentary and smiled to himself.

Rest was optimal for recovery after all.

[strangertheory]

"anti-Mileven"

I know you submitted this as a message and not an Ask, but I hope you don't mind if I answer your question with a longer post because this is a topic that is important to me but is complicated. I've meant to do a post about this, but kept putting it off because it is a very layered topic for me and my thoughts about Mileven are probably not what a lot of fans want to hear.

I respect that everyone develops an attachment to their preferred couples in stories for personal reasons, and as such any criticism of the dynamic between two characters that are dating can feel like a very personal criticism. I respect everyone's head-canons and favorite ships as sacred ground: I don't want to tell anyone how they should or should not relate to a story. That's unique to each of us as fans, and we will all enjoy Stranger Things for different reasons.

However: I do have some thoughts regarding the way that the narrative has established the dynamic between Mike and El. And I personally do not find their dynamic *as it currently is* to be one that is ideal for either of them yet.

I really care about Eleven and I really care about Mike. They are two of my favorite characters in the story.

To say that I'm "anti-Mileven" is a huge oversimplification of how I feel about Mike and El's dynamic.

I am very much anti:

overlooking the fact El has been treated as a lab rat and abused and isolated from society for the majority of her existence and her ignorance of her own identity and her own desires is repeatedly reinforced canonically. ("How do I know what I like?") El has spent only a few months out in the world beyond her cell at the lab and beyond Hopper's cabin, she knows very little about the world yet, and she is being taught much of what she now knows by her boyfriend who also happens to be one of the few people she interacts with in her daily life. The power difference and social difference between them is huge currently regardless of whether Mike is a nice kid with good intentions or not, and they are both fourteen years olds.

overlooking that it is superficial and not representative of a "deep" relationship to only kiss and make out with a significant other and not do other meaningful activities that establish a real day-to-day relationship (like hanging out with friends and other loved ones as a couple.) There's a popular misconception that the act of two people kissing is inherently romantic and a sign of emotional closeness. But kissing becomes romantic psychologically when two people share a deep affection for one another that is based on shared experiences and emotional and psychological connectedness. If two characters can be shown to care about one another without ever physically touching, they have the potential for a deep connection that is based on more than the thrill of physical affection. Give me a well-developed relationship first, and then kissing will seem romantic to me. Without an established psychological and emotional connection between characters, kissing is merely a superficial representation of the idea of intimacy between characters without any actual substance underneath. Sure that's what kids do when they're figuring out how dating and feelings and physical intimacy work and it's not harmful in itself provided that they are both comfortable with it, but keep this in mind within the context of the other concerns I list here.

trivializing Mike's dishonesty and blaming Hopper for Mike's lying when the truth is Mike could have easily explained to El that Hopper didn't want them spending as much time together and having some space would be better. El is well aware of Hopper's dislike for their time spent together. This should have been a very easy conversation. As Lucas rightfully asks as Mike is ranting about the situation he got himself into: "Why lie?" Good question, Lucas. Good question. El asks Mike this again later at the mall. "Why do you lie?" Mike stares back at her with an awkward expression, and does NOT answer her. Why is this answer not an easy one? Why has Mike still not addressed things with El? I think there is more going on here than just Hopper's threats.

I am very in favor of:

El learning more about who she is and what she wants to do with her life outside of the desires and expectations of other people.

Mike figuring out how to effectively express his thoughts and feelings honestly. He is clearly struggling to do this throughout season 3, and it is uncharacteristic of the kid who defiantly said and did what he wanted frequently in seasons 1 and 2. Clearly Mike is not comfortable and is nervous, which is understandable for someone exploring new emotionally vulnerable territory like dating for the first time, but he needs to learn to be honest and tell people how he is thinking and feeling or else he is also putting himself and his feelings and needs at risk and potentially establishing an unhealthy relationship that will hurt him and hurt others even if he doesn't mean to. Mike's nervousness is STILL present in the final goodbye scene in which Mike and El talk, and El tells him she loves him and kisses him. He is still stumbling over his words and anxious, and he seems notably confused after El kisses him. These small details are not trivial, they are clearly intentional.

Recognizing that Mike is the first person her age that was kind to El when she escaped the lab, and given that she has only known pain and abuse her entire life and has never known friendship let alone romance that her psychological readiness for understanding a romantic relationship is NOT the same as an ordinary 14 year old's and this cannot be stated enough.

Recognizing that societal pressures and personal insecurities might be a huge factor in how Mike clings to El's attention and affection for him, and that there is evidence in the story that supports this interpretation. We know that Mike is bullied frequently, and that there is a layer of homophobia often involved. (Even if James and Troy were speaking rudely about Will, they were still directly confronting Mike. The implication is there.) We know that Lucas yelled at Mike "No Mike. You're blind. Blind because you like that a girl's not grossed out by you!" This reveals that Lucas knows that Mike is insecure and wants validation. Just because Mike has a desperate desire to be loved and liked by a girl does not mean that his appreciation of El's attention is based on his genuine romantic affection for her. Mike might be dating El because he enjoys the attention, he likes being liked, and he likes how having a girlfriend makes him feel more accepted and normal.

Recognizing that every moment that Mike has tried to share something that he is passionate about with El (the Yoda figurine, the dinosaurs) she has been completely disinterested. Since El has no cultural connection to the pop culture stories Mike loves and she lived in the Lab her entire life, it makes perfect sense that she will have no interest in these toys. Her lack of interest in what Mike is passionate about, however, is worth noting: not because it's a bad thing, but because it's just one of many reasons they are "not even from the same planet" and cannot bond and connect easily. El has lived an incredibly different life from Mike, has suffered through so much, and is still learning about the outside world and about herself. She is severely behind in social and personal development. She needs time to learn and to grow and to heal so she can live her best life and recover from what she has been through. (She doesn't really care about your Star Wars toys, Michael, because she just learned what a phone is and is processing a lot of other things right now.)

*I want to credit @kaypeace21 for pointing out many of these particular observations listed above: you can read her very detailed and extensive analysis in her post here: El is Not in Love with Mike.

These are just a few of many thoughts I have regarding Mike and El's dynamic together, and why I find the romanticization and idealization of their dating relationship to be more suited to fan-canon and fanfiction. For El to have a relationship with Mike that I would personally enjoy and appreciate, the story would need to convincingly allow her to establish a notably better understanding of who she is and what she wants, and have time to heal from her trauma and learn a lot more about the outside world. While I suspect that the Byers moving away will be very difficult for Will, in many ways I think it will benefit El tremendously and I hope that she is given more opportunities to learn and to grow.

I also agree with @hawkinsschoolcounselor 's hypothesis that Mike is projecting his feelings for Will onto El. It's impossible for me to see Mike's dynamic with El as entirely separate from Mike's relationship with Will because El was found in the woods when they were looking for Will in season 1, El helped everyone find Will in the Upside Down and saved his life, and El reappears at the end if season 2 and saves Will from the Mindflayer. Until season 3, El's appearance in Mike's life has been directly tied to Will's survival and safety. I do not think this is a trivial aspect of El's narrative. El's importance within the larger story being told is repeatedly tied back to what Will is dealing with. The reason that El and Will's narratives are so deeply intertwined has not been revealed in the story yet, but I suspect that there are some important aspects of El and Will's stories that haven't been fully revealed yet that will bring all of these seemingly isolated plot threads together. The creators of Stranger Things repeatedly tie El and Will together visually and narratively (re: @kaypeace21), and I believe there is a very specific reason for this.

I look forward to seeing what happens in season 4. Whether my interpretation of El and Mike's dynamic is fair or not, I trust the writers have a compelling next chapter in their story for us all to enjoy.

[callboxkat]

Those Long, Lonely Nights (part 3/6)

Author’s note: This is a retelling of the story These Deep Dark Woods, but from Roman’s perspective. I recommend reading that story first, but this can also stand alone.

Summary: Roman, a knight, insists on accompanying his best friend Logan, a potion maker, when he decides to head into the notoriously dangerous woods bordering their home to find some rare herbs and minerals for his apothecary. They find much more than they bargained for when they encounter Remus, a bloodthirsty giant. Logince. Angst with a happy ending.

Fic Warnings:  food mention, blood, injuries, death mention, killing mention, gun mention, mild body horror (it’s Remus), disturbing imagery (it’s Remus), character death, temporary/believed character death, kidnapping, guilt, attempted self sacrifice, talk of giants, vampires and other monsters. Very unsympathetic villain Remus.

Word Count: 2141

Part 1 : Part 4 

Writing Masterpost!

...

Logan wasn’t moving.

He wasn’t moving.

Roman stood there, his jaw slack with shock, his ears buzzing, feeling like the ground had just dropped out from underneath him and he had gone into free fall.

The giant released Logan’s arm, instead letting his body hand loosely from only a few fingers.

He looked at him for a moment, shrugged, and dropped him. He fell like a stone and did not move again.

“Well, that’s a shame,” he commented, like he’d just broken a cheap toy that he didn’t much care about.

Then, he spun around, and before Roman could recover enough to remember that he was still in danger, the giant had grabbed him up in tight fists. He ripped the sword from Roman’s grip—stronger even than the magic meant to prevent exactly that—and tossed it casually over his shoulder. The weapon disappeared into the dark.

Pulled from his shock, Roman roared in anger and grief, pounding on the giant’s hands and arms with his fists. He kicked out, colliding with the giant’s jaw but not causing much damage.

In response, the giant squeezed him, crushing the breath from his lungs. Roman gasped as he heard something crack.

“Hmm, we can still have some fun together,” the monster said, grinning crooked, stained teeth. His lower canines were almost like tusks. The tip of one of them was broken off. Somehow it only made him look more disturbing.

The grip on him released slightly. Roman gasped and continued to desperately struggle, yelling and screaming and hitting out at the giant. The giant simply looked amused, until Roman bit down on his hand, drawing blood. It tasted like acid.

The giant flinched and his grip tightened again, leaving Roman choking and gasping for air once more.

“Now, that might be a little too feisty,” he heard, the giant sounding annoyed for the first time. The monster transferred Roman to only one hand, lifted up the now free one, and flicked Roman in the head.

Crack.

Roman’s head jerked to the side as his vision doubled, and he felt his body go limp. The giant’s iron grip relented. Nausea rolled in his stomach as he felt the giant move him around, poking and prodding.

“Oh, goody, you’re not dead,” he heard, as if from another room. “Can’t have both of you dying before the fun part!”

The world spun as the giant casually manhandled him. There was a tearing sound; and then the giant was tying something tightly around him, like a spider trussing up its prey, before roughly stuffing the knight into a dark, enclosed space made of coarsely woven fabric—what he would later realize was the giant’s bag. It had a putrid smell, like the giant himself, like it was very well used and hadn’t been cleaned in years.

Something else was bundled in a few seconds later, and upon recognizing the iron tang of blood and the smell of herbs in the air, Roman was hit by the realization that it was Logan’s body now crumpled against him.

Roman attempted to move sluggish limbs to his best friend, desperately hoping against hope to rouse him, but he was tied too tightly to move.

“Lo…gan,” he slurred.

Logan, of course, showed no reaction. He was crumpled awkwardly, his head pressed into Roman’s side, heavy and unmoving. Roman was almost glad that it was too dark for him to see anything. He… did not want to see. He didn’t want to know.

It was beginning to sink in that Logan might really be gone. That he might really be dead.

Roman would never speak to him again. He would never get to tell him how he felt.

His favorite person in the world was just… gone.

Roman was trapped in the bag of a giant, with his best friend’s dead body practically lying on top of him, about to be carried off to be tortured and killed himself.

The giant began to move then, and it took everything Roman had not to pass out or throw up as he was jostled about, Logan’s horribly limp body still lying against him. The time in that bag felt like it lasted forever. Being bounced around carelessly, too restrained to do anything about the situation, feeling his shirt slowly grow damp where Logan’s head was pressed into his side, surrounded by the rotten smell of the giant. Able to hear his captor whistling out-of-tune to himself the whole time, cheery as could be. Even as he began to recover from the blow to his head, it only seemed worse, because he could truly appreciate how much he was suffering.

Finally, they came to a stop. Logan’s body was pulled out first. Roman closed his eyes as he heard it clatter to the ground.

The hand came for him next, and Roman was tugged roughly from the bag. The giant set him down only a little more carefully than he had Logan. It seemed they were in a cave, naturally formed, although with a few clear alterations. The ceiling soared dozens of feet high—plenty tall for the giant—beyond where Roman could see. It was dark, lit only by a pair of poorly made torches bolted to the wall closest to the entrance.

Roman should probably have been afraid. He just kept thinking, This wasn’t supposed to happen.

The giant grinned at him, then roughly tore off the knight’s leather boots. It might have hurt, if he hadn’t felt so numb, since the giant didn’t bother to unlace them first. The giant popped one in his mouth and chewed on it thoughtfully, frowned, then spat it back out into his hand. He dropped the boots onto the cave floor.

Humming to himself, the giant stepped back, and left the cave. With him gone, Roman could just barely see where Logan lay, on what had been the giant’s other side, the vague shape of his body illuminated by the torchlight. He looked away. Logan wouldn’t have wanted to be remembered like that. Not that Roman would be remembering him for long.

The giant returned some time later, still humming, carrying a load firewood in his arms. Some of the logs looked like entire saplings that had been yanked from the earth. The wood was dumped in a pile before the giant, and then he got to work setting it ablaze. Since many of the trees were freshly pulled from the ground, still with the remains of green leaves on their branches, it took him a while to get it to light; but soon enough, a fire was roaring, illuminating the enormous cave.

Roman should have been struggling, looking around, trying to find a means of escape… but he just felt hollow.

The giant didn’t seem content to let Roman wallow in silent misery. “This would be so much more fun with two of you,” he mused in that annoying, nasal voice as he poked at the fire with a branch, “but oh well! Oopsie! Sometimes I don’t know my own strength, you know?” He turned to Roman and shrugged, a grin on his face that showed he really did not care one bit about what he had done.

Roman didn’t respond, just listening almost with disinterest as the giant went on to cackle and talk about all the ways he was going to torture his “new toy”—Roman, of course.

He went on with that for a while, coming up with more and more ghastly ideas, before eventually sighing, “Ah, but it’d be so much more fun with two of you.” Roman finally glanced up from the patch of dusty, stained floor he’d been staring at. “But it’s okay. It’s fine. I bet his bones will make great toothpicks. Sticks just don’t last nearly as long.”

Anger boiled in Roman’s gut.

“Ooh, or maybe I can put him in a jar. Like a pickled specimen! Scientists do that kind of thing, right? I can be a scientist! A mad scientist!”

The giant paused, turning to grin manically at Roman, who just stared at him with a look of disgust.

“You know, I don’t get company that often,” the giant continued, his shoulders suddenly slumping as he pouted. “Nobody stays very long.”

Because you murdered them all, too?

The sad look faded, and the giant perked up again, grinning. “I’m Remus, by the way!” he announced, putting a filthy hand to his chest. Roman’s gaze went to the bone-studded bracelet around his wrist. It still had Logan’s blood on it.

For some reason, the sight filled Roman with a new energy. Rage boiled up within him, filling every vein, every muscle. He truly struggled against his bindings for the first time. “I don’t care about your name,” he said, hatred and grief turning the words into a snarl. He raised his voice, uncaring of the consequences. “You are nothing but a villain—a foul, malodorous, evil villain who serves no purpose to society except providing something to vanquish!”

Remus, though, didn’t seem bothered—if anything, he looked amused. “Aw, don’t be like that,” he said, removing his hand from his chest and using it to swat dismissively at the air. “Who cares about society? Isn’t it much more fun to just do what you want? Whatever you want?”

“Those of us who aren’t monsters don’t find killing fun,” Roman spat.

Remus laughed. “Maybe you just haven’t tried it. There’s all sorts of fun ways to do a little killing.”

Roman told the giant exactly what he thought he should do with himself. Remus, still looking amused, opened his mouth to respond, when…

Plop!

Remus tilted his head, turning to look. Something small, about the size of a baseball, had fallen into the fire. The giant leaned forward to grab a stick, and he poked curiously at whatever it was.

“Maybe the ceiling’s coming down!” he said cheerfully. “We’ll be crushed like bugs!”

“Greeaaat,” Roman drawled. Just what he needed. At least he wouldn’t be made into tooth picks if he was crushed by a cave in.

The fire exploded.

There was a bang, incredibly loud, and a flash of light. Sparks and charred wood flew in all directions, the flames soaring towards the ceiling with a roar of triumph. Remus shrieked and stumbled back from the inferno, stumbling over the filthy rags he sat on. Heat washed over Roman, who could only close his eyes against the sting, but who was thankfully far enough not to get burned.

The heat faded slightly; and he opened his eyes, squinting against the clouds of acrid smoke filling the air.

What the hell was that?

Remus was patting down his clothes, trying to smother the flames that had spread onto him, yelling obscenities all the while. A patch of his hair was on fire. Roman’s ears were ringing.

Then the smoke shifted, and Roman saw an angel.

Silhouetted against the glow of the fire, a dark shape was sprinting for Roman. The movements were incredibly uncoordinated, seemingly about to fall at any second. But it was a very, very familiar shape that dashed towards him. An impossible shape.

Logan.

He dropped down to his knees in front of Roman, panting. Real. Breathing. Alive. His face was swollen and half coated in drying blood, his pupils were two different sizes, and he was streaked with dirt and ash.

He was the most beautiful thing Roman had ever seen. And he was alive.

Roman couldn’t believe it. He could have sobbed. He could have screamed.

As Logan began tugging at the ropes, glancing once over his shoulder in Remus’s direction, Roman found his voice.

“I thought you were dead!” he cried, hardly able to hear himself over the ringing in his ears, the roar of the flames, and the giant’s continued shouts as he tried to keep the fire from spreading.

Logan pulled out his dagger, the blade glinting in the firelight—of course he still had his dagger, the brilliant man—and slashed the ropes holding Roman still. His hands seemed very unsteady, but he made quick work of it, and even managed not to cut Roman. They both rushed to tug away the bindings, and Roman and Logan stumbled to their feet, helping each other up. Logan kept the dagger out—probably a good idea. Roman considered taking it, since he was in better shape, but Logan’s knuckles were white on the handle. He wasn’t going to drop it.

Roman glanced quickly around to find the entrance of the cave, grabbed Logan’s arm, and they ran. Sharp stones and bits of wood cut into Roman’s bare feet as they went, but he couldn’t have cared less. Even as a newfound terror coursed through him, replacing the numbness like ink filling water, Roman felt so light.

Logan was alive.

[whump-mania]

I Will Survive

Something a little different from what I usually write! This is a songfic inspired by “I Will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor. I made some new characters for this one, not sure if I’ll ever use them anywhere else. Enjoy! (This is a long one)

TW: domestic abuse, implied noncon attempt, dubcon, nonconsensual kissing/touching, cursing, gaslighting, use of slurs (sl*t)

~

The crowd was silent. All eyes on him. A bright, burning spotlight shining down on him. Everyone was waiting in quiet anticipation for the first note. Tyler steadied his breathing and focused on the sheet music in front of him. His fingers rested lightly on the keys of first chord of the song. A breath. A glance into the crowd. Alex was there, smiling at him. A surge of confidence flowed through Tyler as he turned back to the piano. 

He struck the first chord, which sent him into a flurry of notes arpeggiating up to the end of the intro. A nod to his bandmates sent him into the first verse of the song.

“At first I was afraid, I was petrified...Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side...”

~

“N-No, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean it, I love y-”

“Shut the FUCK up, Tyler!” Eric was filled with rage. He had just pushed his boyfriend down onto the ground of the kitchen, Tyler’s now broken phone on the hard tile next to him.

It was all started by a text. A text that Tyler sent to his new friend, Alex. A bartender at the bar they performed at with their jazz band. He had been so kind to Tyler, coming up to him after the performance and telling him he had never heard someone play the piano as well as him. Eric was putting his trumpet away when he noticed the two talking, and he kept a wary eye on the bartender since then.

Tyler was just saying hello. He was just asking him if he wanted to meet up for coffee. As friends. That's when Eric found the texts messages and lost it, accusing Tyler of cheating on him.

“You’re fucking him, aren’t you?” Eric accused. “You think I’m not good enough for you, huh?!” 

Tyler shook his head rapidly. “No! No, please, I was just being friendly, I-”

“I don’t think I can be with you if you’re gonna be a slut,” Eric spat. “Have fun with your new boytoy.” Eric turned and left Tyler on the floor, taking his own things and heading for the door. 

“Wait! E-Eric, please!” Tyler scrambled off the floor and grabbed Eric’s arm. “I’ll do anything, please, d-don’t leave me...I love you...” 

Eric glared at him, not even needing to think about his next move. Everything was going according to plan. “Would you block him? Would you never speak to him again?” His voice dropped to a lower, vulnerable tone. 

Tyler nodded immediately. “Yes, yes, I promise, I won't even think about him, just please don’t leave...I-I’m sorry...” Tyler fell to his knees and sobbed. 

Eric grabbed Tyler’s broken phone from the floor, handing it to the sobbing form on the tile. Tyler took it instantly and deleted Alex’s contact with shaking hands. Eric smiled and embraced him.

“Good boy...I love you so much, Ty.” He stroked his boyfriend’s hair, calming his sobs. “Shh, I’m here.” Tyler melted, falling in love all over again.

~

Tyler’s eyes shut closed as he sang the next lyric.

“But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong, and I grew strong...and I learned how to get along...”

~

“He’s using you, you know.” Alex frowned at the man in front of him. 

Tyler and Alex were at the bar. Alex was working and Tyler had just finished his set. This was the only time they could see each other without Eric knowing: Eric was sick at home with the flu, and couldn’t perform in the gig. Tyler sipped his drink nervously.

“Maybe he is. Maybe he doesn’t even love me.” He took a shaky breath. “But I think I still love him, you know? And he’s my lead trumpet, and the band can’t survive without him...I-I can’t just...leave.”

Alex became more upset, but held it in so he wouldn’t upset Tyler. “I know it’s hard to leave a relationship like that.” He reached over and held his hand. “But I’m here to help you. I can stay with you the whole time, so he can’t hurt you.”

Tyler looked into Alex’s eyes. He couldn’t help but be reassured by the concerned, caring look in those brown eyes. A look he barely saw from Eric anymore, a look he had to work for. Tyler furrowed his eyebrows and nodded.

“Okay.”

~

“...And so you're back!”

Tyler tapped his foot, feeling a new rush of confidence as the rest of his band struck up and the lights shone on all of them.

“From outer space...I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face. I should have changed that stupid lock, I should have made you leave your key, if I'd known for just one second you'd be back to bother me...”

He pounded the keys of the piano, not even needing to look at the sheet music. He knew exactly what he was supposed to say.

“Go on now, go! Walk out the door! Just turn around now, 'cause you're not welcome anymore...Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye? You think I'd crumble? You think I'd lay down and die?”

~

“Welcome home, Ty.”

Tyler stood, dumbfounded, in the entrance to his house. Standing there, in his own home, was Eric. Someone he thought he had finally gotten rid of. Tyler closed the door behind him. 

“W...What are you doing here? How did you-”

Eric smirked and held up the house key, the one he forgot to take from him before he told him to leave.

“I couldn’t just leave you here all alone with him. I had to come take you back...after all, he did take you from me.” Eric stepped forward.

Tyler’s eyes widened and he backed himself against the door. “W-We broke up! We had a talk, you...you agreed and everything!” Tyler’s eyes threatened to shed tears. “I thought everything was okay!”

Eric laughed. “Wow, Ty, I knew he made you a slut but I didn’t know he made you a dumbass, too!” He strode forward and pressed Tyler against the door. Tyler tried to struggle away.

“No! N-No, you can’t call me that anymore, I don’t belong to anyone!” He tried to worm his way out of Eric’s grasp, but he was locked in place.

“God, he really brainwashed you, didn't he?” Eric frowned and stroked Tyler’s hair. “You can't really believe that bullshit.” He grinned and leaned in to kiss him.

“No! Stop it, g-get away from me!” Tyler wasn’t strong enough to escape the kiss. It was aggressive, and passionate, and it brought him back. Back to the fear, to the shame, to never being good enough. Eric’s hand slithering down to his waistband sent Tyler into panic mode, screaming and pushing Eric away with all his might.

Eric snapped out of his trance of lust and glowered at Tyler. His mood changed entirely as he snarled and rushed toward Tyler, ready to fight. He lunged at him and Tyler was able to dodge him, using the opportunity to push Eric to the ground. 

Tyler took the opportunity to run to the kitchen, grabbing a rolling pin and holding it at Eric, panting.

“Get. Out.” His hands were shaking as he looked at Eric with all the rage that had been built up over his months of recovery. Eric stared in bewilderment at Tyler before stumbling up and running out the door. 

Tyler dropped to his knees. He didn’t know it would be so easy. It was almost too easy...but that didn’t matter. He was gone.

~

“Oh no, not I, I will survive! Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive...I've got all my life to live, and I've got all my love to give, and I'll survive... I will survive...hey, hey!”

Tyler belted and stood up from the piano seat, feeling stronger than he ever had before. Alex was in the crowd, beaming at how much he had grown. He cheered as Tyler continued.

“It took all the strength I had not to fall apart...kept trying hard to mend the pieces of my broken heart. And I spent oh-so many nights just feeling sorry for myself, I used to cry...but now I hold my head up high!”

~

“Tyler, stop! Don’t say things like that!”

“But it’s true! I-I’m disgusting, I need to go back to him, I’m being unfair...”

Tyler was sitting on his own couch, Alex by his side. He had just broken up with Eric yesterday and it was the hardest thing he had ever done. It was only possible with Alex by his side, and to his surprise, Eric left with barely any argument. 

Now, however, he regretted it all. Everything Eric said to him in the past was coming back to him, grabbing him and dragging him back to Eric’s arms. And Alex was doing his best to keep him at bay.

“Tyler, you don't owe him anything. You did the right thing, he was horrible to you, please understand that.” He looked at Tyler in the eyes, pleading. “You are not disgusting. You’re brave, and you’re beautiful, and he never deserved you.”

Tyler shook his head. “No, y-you’re lying, I’m a slut, I’m using you, I-I’m a dirty cheater, I need to go back...”

“Tyler. Look at me.” Tyler shuddered and looked at him with bloodshot eyes. Alex sighed. “I don’t want to force you into anything. But I will say this. I’ve seen the way he treats you, and it isn’t okay. You are the bravest person I know for leaving him, and I know you can recover. I...I love you, Tyler. I have for a while and I hate seeing you upset. So...I wanna see you happy.”  Alex teared up as well, quickly wiping his eyes.

Tyler stared in shock, not knowing what to say. So he didn’t say anything. He leaned forward and kissed Alex, most likely soaking his face with his tears. Alex embraced him and kissed him back. This was a start, but they still had a long way to go.

~

“And you see me, somebody new, I'm not that chained-up little person still in love with you...”

~

“Uh...Eric, I dunno how safe I feel doing this...” Tyler tugged at the restraints that kept him tied to Eric’s headboard. Eric gave him a dangerous look.

“Tyler, you promised me. You’re really gonna do this to me on my birthday?” Eric raised an eyebrow, securing the knots.

“N-No, I-”

“You’re really gonna be that selfish? After all the things I’ve done for you? Remember all the stuff I gave you for your birthday? Does that mean nothing to you?” Eric feigned a hurt expression.

“Eric, no, I...” Tyler swallowed. “I’m okay. We can do this, I’m sorry for upsetting you.” Tyler smiled at him, but it was forced. He really, really didn’t want to do this, but he was afraid that it would be even worse if he kept complaining. He felt trapped, he felt chained up and restrained: in a literal and figurative sense. 

Eric smiled down at him, giving Tyler that approving, loving gaze he so yearned for. “Thank you, Ty. I love you.”

“I love you too.” The response was automatic. It was the only thing keeping him going.

~

“And so you felt like dropping in and just expect me to be free...”

Tyler smiled and looked to Alex in the crowd.

“Well, now I'm saving all my lovin' for someone who's loving me!”

Alex laughed, blushing and clapping along with the song as Tyler went through the chorus once again. 

“Go on now, go! Walk out the door! Just turn around now, 'cause you're not welcome anymore...Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye? You think I'd crumble? You think I'd lay down and die? Oh no, not I, I will survive! Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive...I've got all my life to live, and I've got all my love to give, and I'll survive... I will survive...I will survive!”

The crowd cheered loudly. Alex stood up, tears in his eyes. He was filled with pride watching Tyler, his boyfriend (that still felt good to say), performing on stage like this. 

Tyler’s fingers danced across the piano as he ended the song, the crowd erupting in applause when the song was over. Tyler rushed offstage and into the crowd to embrace Alex. 

He was brave. He was beautiful. And Eric never, never deserved him. 

He will survive.

[from-red-string]

Instinct

I'm so nervous for posting this for Day 3, I worry if anyone would read about Ana and Mora since they're not even secundary characters, they are just extras not in my heart but in the show, and this made it harder to write it. Anyway, it's here and I hope you like it.

Shout out to @sapphire374 for easing my worries and beta reading it 💛

Find all fics for Soy Luna Ficweek 2021, here

Day 3

Prompt: “Is this the second time we’ve both gotten stuck in the same elevator?”

Summary: The first time Ana and Mora got stuck in the elevator was when they stopped talking, a week later when it happens again: is it the time to rebound? or something more?

Warning: unfortunately it's not canon. Tino and Cato don't exist, they have never seen them, no one knows them in this fic

Genre: angst

Pairing: Ana and Mora a.k.a the lesbian moms

---

Another silent morning in the apartment, a rare situation for Nina. From what she could remember, there has never been a quiet day home ever since they moved in. Mora's sewing machine, some random song playing as background noise, or just Buenos Aires' downtown being crowded and busy. Although she appreciated the silence, it's odd, the girl is not used to it anymore.

Now both her mom and auntie didn't exchange a word, Mora has been working on arranging some photoshoots, she woke up for lunchtime and only came back late at night, while Ana left early for her meetings then arrived at 4 pm. Seems like they had it all planned out just so they didn't have to face each other. 

Nina didn't know what happened between them but hoped it would go away soon.

Well, unexpectedly it got different from other days from the beginning. When Nina left her room, Mora was awake and making herself breakfast. The girl checked the clock again, still at 7 am.

"Good morning, cariño" Mora smiled at her while Nina approached to sit on the chair.

"Morning." She reached for the bread slowly, hesitant. Her instincts told her to move carefully. "I thought I'd only see you later." Mora laughed but it was too stiff.

"I have to drive 3 hours to check for some special fabrics I'm looking for." The redhead tried to show excitement, however, such a rush manner showed her nervousness. Nina knew it wasn't about the fabrics. As soon as the clicks sound of Ana's heels started, Mora stands up. "I really need to go. Bye, darling." And left through the door carrying her purse, phone, and keys.

"Good luck there." Nina greets her and takes Mora's plate away immediately. She'd rather not step into whatever happened. Ana comes from her room in a rush and Nina wide her eyes when her mom gets to the front door. "Mom, you can't leave without eating."

"I'm late already. Sorry, cariño. I'll be back early. Bye… Hold the door, please!" Ana fleed before Nina could react. The girl opens the door to check on them but they were already gone. 

The silence from home followed them into the elevator. None dared to look up from their phones. Mora started to tap her foot impatiently when she noticed the elevator was slow today. 

"Can you stop?" Ana asked, staring at her screen.

"Oh, good morning. Now you can see me." Mora smirked, still avoiding Ana's face, kept tapping her shoe.

"More like I can hear you. Always so noisy."

"Can you? It didn't seem like that last week." The snark got the fashion designer, she provoked back looking at Ana and waiting for a reaction but she got nothing. "Back to ignoring me. Hope Mario has a better shot talking to you than I do." The lack of response from the lawyer building up her annoyance. "Even though we live together and have been friends for a lifetime. You rather believe in him than..."

"Give me a reason," Ana said, losing her temper. The elevator stops, slowing down. "I need a plea." Walking side to side in this shiny box they were failing to realize they were trapped in.

"My instincts are not a good one. I don't trust him." Mora decided to watch her friend through the reflection, pretending to fix her hair in the mirror.

"Of course not." Ana laughed at her. "Do you think I can defend a case based on your feelings? A judge would accept it, declare him guilt for you." Her voice was cold, but the rage -boiling inside was still audible.

"You're not a judge, Ana." Turning around she steps in Ana's way, staring at her. "Ain't a case but your life." Each word was another step forward, the lawyer's back hit the wall, but she wouldn't give up on a debate, her index finger touched Mora's shoulder.

"That's exactly the problem." This time the designer was the one walking backward. "My life is never good enough for you. I can't even decide on Nina's life without you around." Mora's jaw dropped and she stuttered, with a non-comprehensible sound coming from her mouth. "Not even a boyfriend." That's the moment Ana breaks, lowering her head and resting on Mora's shoulder while the other was glued on the wall, still recovering from shook, nevertheless, she wrapped her arms around her friend's body. 

"I… I'm sorry, I didn't… mean to make you feel less..." trying to find words at that moment was completely useless, not even in her wildest dreams she would have imagined she made Ana doubt herself. Her friend's knees seemed to give up and her body weighted, they sank to the floor while Ana let out all she needed to. It's been ages since the lawyer opened herself like this, they were best friends, Mora knew Ana has been holding up for who knows how long, well if that's even considered opening up. 

All the signs Mora neglected before came down on her. Ana has been distant for months, she pushed Mora away, anytime they were alone and approached each other, Ana would step away like her skin burned from the contact.

Mora kept Ana pressed against her body until the very last tear she had, waiting for her to calm down. Once Ana's sobs were more spaced, she raised her head displaying her red cheeks, Mara's heart stings with this scene, her hands capture Ana's face moving toward her until their forehead touches.

"I'm sorry, I..." Shutting her eyes, unable to face the tears that still shine on her lover's face. Guilty fell hard on her shoulders. Ana fought to be an independent woman who could support her daughter without her ex's money, Mora watched how much she struggled to get there, yet the main person who helped her in all her lows is also the same who stuck her nose in all her matters, Mora was both a guardian and a butcher. Now that she has to take a good on her actions, Mora told Nina she should follow her heart and go after Gastón if that's her desire, while Ana, Nina's mother, had explicit disagreed about this idea. She should've considered that maybe she wasn't helping Ana see another point of view but making it harder to care for her own daughter.

There was an even worse thought haunting her, she told Nina to go because she feared Gastón would repeat her story, going to another country and losing the love of her life, forever wondering what would have happened if she stayed. That thought scared her, she denied it to herself but it had lived in her mind for so long.

When Mora went to Germany, she made her choice, decided to go on an adventure instead of staying with Ana. She was young, by the time believed they would still be the same through distance, their relationship wouldn't change, but that's not what happened. It came out to be harder than she thought, they never revealed themselves as a couple, it was so natural for them to be together like that, the sneaking out, sleepovers, kisses, and loving moments were part of their friends, they didn't feel the need to label that. Once distance came into the scene, it got complicated, both noticing how much they missed each other, although not willing to give up on their paths, not labeling their friendship made it easier to move on, no one but them knew what went on inside those walls, they just had to keep going. They never stopped talking completely, they called each other every other week updating about their lives, never talking about their relationship, how they missed each other's touch.

When Mora visited Argentina, she learned about Ana and Ricardo's relationship, they were dating, that's when what was between them seemed to be forgotten by Ana. Mora was happy for her friend, of course, but they never left her mind.

Nothing happened while Ana's married, Mora's life went on. Both of them supported each other, and were always around. Nina's birth was emotional just like all the previous months Mora spent by Ana's side. They never regretted the choice that took them to that day.

Then suddenly came the divorce, not long after Ana needed a place to stay with Nina, Mora's house was always open for them, so they started to live together. 

The intimacy level acquired from sharing the same place made them go back to their old ways. Little by little, their old friendship came back to the same mold from when they were young. Sometimes they kissed after drinking some wine, sneaked to each other’s bed after Nina went to bed, or just cooked together and held hands during dinner. Plus, small touches in public, taking care of Nina, going to the supermarket. Small domestic daily moments that made them feel comfortable. 

Mora finally had it in her hands, everything she imagines. Then, Ana backed away, slipping through her fingers. None of them said a word about it, the unspoken words lost in the silence.

"I'm sorry," She repeated, opening her eyes again, Ana shook her head, scaring Mora. "Ana..." She had to admit it, she knows it wasn't right to push her own experience on Nina.

"You were right." When Ana said that, More dropped her hands confused. Ana leaned back against the wall, now sitting by Mora's side and looking to the elevator's door. "Thiago is a liar." Mora was even more lost. Who the hell is Thiago? "He is married." Ah, he is the boyfriend. It wasn't that deep for Mora, nothing personal, she just felt it in her that guy shouldn't be trusted. She felt a little proud and bit her bottom lip to prevent herself from smiling. Ana looked at her frustrated. "You're annoying, I can see you smiling. Yes, you told me, whatever." Watching Ana complain was the same as seeing an old picture, Ana was still the girl from school days behind the successful lawyer and tough mom facade.

"Ana," She waited for Ana to look at her. "It was an instinct." 

"Shut up!" The answer didn't surprise Mora, but the small that followed it did. Ana closed her eyes and faced the ceiling, the smile glued on her face. "It's not that I don't want you in my life, you were always there for me." She faced Mora again. "But when it comes to Nina, don't disagree with how I raise my kid. She's a teen, just wants echo to confirm her ideas, they don't know the consequences."

"Nina is really responsible, you should give her more credit." Mora couldn't stop the words from coming out. When Ana narrowed her eyes, she raised her hands in defeat. "She had an amazing mom to teach her." Added with a wink making Ana laugh, she approached her face to Mora. The designer became extremely aware of the short space between them, a few inches to no distance at all.

"She's 17." They exchange looks. Too meaningful, too painful. That's the same age they separated.

"Why didn't you go?" It came out as a whisper, due to the almost non-existent distance Ana could hear perfectly, Mora should've stopped herself. That was a forbidden question. Ana immediately pulled away, looked at the elevator's screen.

They weren't working.

She picked up her phone to look at the hours, then looked at her watch. 20 minutes since she left the apartment since she left to her next meeting, she doesn't have to worry about it for the next 40 minutes. 

"Why are you up so early?" Ana questioned only now noticing how weird this scene was. 

"It's time to look for fabrics." Mora answered, snapping out of her thoughts. 

"You'll drive for 3 hours again? You should've scheduled it for later, you don't drive well when you're sleepy, it's early for you." Her worries were real, Mora wasn't awake before 10 am at least. Listening to her made Mora feel a little warmer and a wide smile appeared without her consent. "How can you drive? You didn't even notice we were stuck in here." Mora really didn't notice.

"Is this the second time we’ve both gotten stuck in the same elevator?” Mora joked that both of them laughed. "One time for the present, two times for the past." 

"Yeah, this time is fixing what the first time did." Ana reached for Mora's hand, intertwining their fingers. Mora caught her breath. A voice came from the speaker above the floor screen.

"We're sorry for the inconvenience. The elevator will be moving in a few minutes." Ana recognized the janitor's voice. Mora was stuck looking at Ana.

"We'll be free soon." Ana stood up, keeping their hands locked, then noticed Mora's eyes on her face. "Is there something on my face?" She turned to the mirror. Her mask was ruined, her cheeks were reddened and glistened from the tears, hair fell from the elegant ponytail she caged them earlier, her lipstick was smugged. She was a mess, but in Mora's eyes, she was beautiful. "I'll need to go home and fix myself." Noted annoyed.

"No, I can do it." Mora raised from the floor, got her make up from the purse to work with it. Ana decided to let Mora paint her as she desired, feeling a bit nervous but she wanted to show Mora she trusted her. Ana knows Mora is feeling bad for today's argument already and she saw every wince of pain that flashed in her dark eyes every time Ana rejected her touch.

Mora focused on making Ana's make up, trying to tone down her ideas for Ana's face and making something that would make her comfortable and pretty. It worked well until it was time to work on her mouth, Mora decided on a lip tint, in this case for her own sanity, lipstick would demand too much time working on a painting she wanted to ruin, too tempting. Her hand started shaking, Ana noticed it too but before the suggestion of doing it herself came out, Mora put the lip tint in her pocket.

"I forgot the hair. Lips are the grand finale." As soon as Mora had to reach her hand for Ana's she noticed that was a terrible idea. While Mora pulled the lawyer's hair free, Ana shivered at the quick contact of her hand against Ana's scalp. Memories from other moments those same fingers touched that place rushed back to her mind, her eyes closing to better appreciate the feeling. Mora saw this reaction and rested her hand on Ana's neck, watching the reaction until she couldn't help but lean in and close the gap between them, crashing her lips on hers quickly. The kiss was chaste, as fast it came, it ended. 

Seeming to Ana as if her imagination had created the feeling because when she eyed Mora, the lip tint was back and she was ready to place it. But the beam on Mora's lip couldn't be denied. It happened, an instinct told Ana it did.

[queenofmoons67]

If you're still taking in prompts, I saw this and immediately thought of Nie bros:"The Rough Character Holding The Injured Soft Character Gently And Breaking Down Over Them"\

number one way to trick me into writing almost 1400 words is, apparently, to ask for NMJ caring for NHS. i hope you like it!

Nie Mingjue crouched low on his saber, eyes squinting against the wind as it whipped past him. The sound of the wind covered everything else, from the calls of the Nie cultivators slowly falling behind his breakneck pace, to any screams that might be echoing on the horizon.

But no matter how painful keeping his eyes open became, he kept them open. He couldn’t crash. Couldn’t lose any more time. And, perhaps most importantly—if the Wens had set fire to the Unclean Realm, as they had to Lotus Pier and the Cloud Recesses, the sight of smoke on the horizon would be his first clue.

As Nie Mingjue got close enough to see his home peaking over the treetops, though, the churning in his gut that had pushed him so far became more frantic.

They had received word early that morning that a small force of Wens had been spotted heading toward the Unclean Realm. Unsure what their purpose was, but positive that this was Wen Ruohan’s response to Nie Mingjue killing Wen Xu, Nie Mingjue had gathered his fastest cultivators and set out immediately.

After Nie Mingjue had killed Wen Xu, the Wens had retreated far enough that the Unclean Realm was guarded only by Nie Huaisang and a thin force of cultivators. There wasn’t supposed to be any Wens between the Nie frontline and the Unclean Realm. But then there had been the missive. And yet...

Squinting even more against the harsh wind, Nie Mingjue struggled to make out more details. Everything seemed fine. There were no hints of burning, or invasion, or—

Nie Mingjue’s eyes narrowed on a small figure taking off from the courtyard and bolting in his direction.

It only took a minute more for them to meet, and Nie Mingjue, knowing they were both moving too fast for him to reach out and grab the man, instead snapped a loud, “Follow me!”

The figure staggered in midair, but did as he said. Nie Mingjue glanced at him, and cursed silently when he realized it was the fastest cultivator he had left with Nie Huaisang.

The instant they landed, Nie Mingjue whirled on the man.

“What—”

“Please follow me, Zongzhu!” the cultivator cried, already moving towards the entrance. “Nie-er-gongzi has been attacked!”

Nie Mingjue stumbled, but quickly recovered and ran after the cultivator. A-Sang had been attacked. Not the Unclean Realm, but A-Sang, and Nie Mingjue hated how much that made sense, and he hated that he hadn’t seen it coming, and that he hadn’t seen fit to fortify his brother’s personal guard more than he already had.

An eye for an eye was exactly the kind of punishment that Wen Ruohan would find suitable. With Nie Mingjue lacking a son, of course the man had targeted his little brother instead. Nie Mingjue had been blind in his certainty that the Unclean Realm couldn’t be breached, and now it might cost him the only family he had left.

Ahead of Nie Mingjue, the cultivator skidded to a stop at the door to A-Sang’s rooms. Nie Mingjue didn’t bother doing the same: He threw the door wide open and barged in, mouth already open and ready to demand to know what was happening, only for him to halt at the sight of the room.

The first thing that caught his eye was the blood. It had splattered all over the walls and floor, mixing its bright red with the paints that A-Sang had had out. There were more than a few fans and paintings that Nie Mingjue already knew would have to be thrown out; there was no saving them.

The second thing Nie Mingjue noticed was the ring of doctors surrounding a body lying, unconscious, on the floor. It was cloaked in Nie robes and still clutching a fan, despite the arrows in his side and shoulder. Nie Mingjue’s mind shuddered as he took in the sight, but he didn’t allow himself to cry. He couldn’t, not when there was so much to do.

Nie Mingjue pushed his way through the doctors and squatted by his brother’s head. He palmed his cheek once—reassuring A-Sang that da-ge was there. Reassuring himself that A-Sang, no matter how pale his face was or how blood-matted his hair was, was still alive and fighting.

And then Nie Mingjue stood, and he walked away. He didn’t let himself look back.

The doctors would do their job. It was time Nie Mingjue did his.

<line break>

Nie Mingjue spent the next several hours directing his people to and fro. A half-dozen cultivators were stationed in A-Sang’s rooms, and a half-dozen more were stationed at its doors and windows. The Unclean Realm as a whole had to be swept from to bottom, to ensure the assassins hadn’t decided to hide instead of running, even while Nie Mingjue sent cultivators out to search the surrounding area in the case that the assassins had run instead of hiding. He told the kitchens to make the most hearty meals an injured person could stomach, dictated messages to the other sects and his own frontline, and then sent those messages out.

And then, just when Nie Mingjue started to flag enough that thoughts of A-Sang began to sink in again, the doctors filed into his office and told him that A-Sang had been moved to his bed. He would live.

<line break>

Nie Mingjue reached A-Sang’s rooms as fast as he could. Entering, he reminded himself that he would have to have servants come in and clean soon; it wouldn’t do for A-Sang to find his living space covered in blood. His brother was in the bedroom, though, which hadn’t been affected. The other room could stay for now.

Nie Mingjue nodded to the cultivators guarding his brother, but didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. They filed out of the bedroom, and when he closed the door behind them, he and his brother were left alone and Nie Mingjue could finally allow himself to feel.

He padded over to the bed, noted the bandages around A-Sang’s torso, and decided that the head was probably the best place for him to sit. He just sat on the edge at first, looking down at his brother—and then he brought his legs up, crossed them, and gently eased his brother’s head onto his lap.

“A-Sang,” Nie Mingjue murmured, bending over him. “A-Sang, I’m here. Da-ge’s here.”

There was no response. A-Sang’s eyes were closed, his cheeks still pale, though his features had relaxed and Nie Mingjue assumed the doctors gave him medicine for the pain. But his brother didn’t wake. His fingers didn’t even twitch.

“I’m sorry, A-Sang,” Nie Mingjue whispered, breathing through the knot in his throat and the cold settling in his head and stomach. “I never should have left you alone.”

Nie Mingjue cupped his little brother’s cheek and smoothed his thumb over it. With his other hand, he gathered A-Sang’s hair, absently noting that someone had tried to wash the blood out. They had done a decent job, but A-Sang’s hair was even more knotted now.

Slowly, Nie Mingjue sectioned his brother’s hair and started combing it, easing his fingers through the strands.

<line break>

Nie Mingjue stirred at the sound of moaning. He had apparently slumped forward at some point, falling asleep right where he sat while he combed A-Sang’s hair.

“Da-ge,” a familiar voice whimpered, and Nie Mingjue jolted, blinking rapidly to focus on the sight below him. A-Sang’s eyes were filing with tears, already red and crinkled, but they were open.

“A-Sang,” Nie Mingjue gasped. He rubbed his thumb against his brother’s cheek, wiping away a tear, and then twisted and yelled, “Fetch a doctor! Nie Huaisang is awake!”

There was a clatter from the other room, but Nie Mingjue paid it no mind and turned back to his brother. He squeezed his shoulder gently.

“Never again,” he said. “I’m doubling your guard. Permanently.”

A-Sang giggled, but then moaned in pain and clutched at his side. Wincing, Nie Mingjue reached out and took his hand in his own.

“Don’t laugh right now,” he said. “You had several arrows in you; you’ll be sore for awhile.”

And A-Sang smiled, though his face was still twisted in pain, and whispered, “Yes, Da-ge.”

Go here for more hurt/comfort prompts to send me! All I need is at least one prompt selection and two characters!

[ljandersen]

How I would Make the Next Mass Effect Game

If I was creating the next ME game, I would place it after the trilogy.  Bioware needs a successful game to continue the franchise, maybe to continue the company, and Andromeda was a poor performer commercially.  It seems unwise to put everything into a new Andromeda game.  Likewise, I think going backward in time in the Milky Way, for example the First Contact War, is restrictive and kind of boring.  There’s a limit to the choices, a forgone conclusion in the outcome, and difficulty in incorporating a variety of alien species into a group of companions.  The best way forward is, well . . . forward.

I know many people think with the three expansive ending, it’s not possible to continue in the Milky Way.  I actually think it’s doable.  For the destroy ending, that’s simple enough.  The control ending could be very similar.  The reapers helped rebuild and have returned to dark space under Shepard’s control.  The destroy ending could have more stunted rebuilding compared to control.  The geth would need to play a limited or absent role in the game to accommodate the destroy ending and choices made on Rannoch.  Likewise, the quarians as a collective group would need to have a limited role in case the geth were chosen. 

When it comes to the synthesis ending, I'd give everything green lines or let the lines fluoresce under certain activating circumstances.  There could be references to the mechanical and organic melding and a few situations that rely on machine knowledge.  I think it’s doable to accommodate all the endings with effortful, but somewhat minimal, tinkering.

Since Bioware needs to knock the ball out of the park for this game, I would incorporate character cameos from the trilogy.  If the new game is set ten years after the war, the characters should be alive and the galaxy has had some time to recover.  The game could have Shepard appear, if alive, in a capacity similar to Hawke in Dragon Age: Inquisition.  Shepard could be higher up in Alliance rank, serving in a political capacity, or perhaps retired.  They could appear as a consultant or be someone the main character interacts with throughout the game. 

The love interest, if there is one, could appear with Shepard at one point or just be referred to off screen.  By presenting Shepard living on happily with their LI, the game would pay fan service and provide the happy ending many fans want for their Shepard.  People invested in their Shepard and in the trilogy will definitely appreciate the closer and love seeing their iconic character again.  It would be a smart move.  I think it’s likely many fans choose that ending so their Shepard lives, but if they chose a different ending, then Shepard can be referred to in the past tense or as having left to dark space.  A newly created character can stand in for a living Shepard, like how Bioware always accomodated dead characters.  

Being set only ten years after the war, most of the characters who survived the trilogy should still be alive.  They could make cameo appearances throughout the game and be replaced with new characters if dead.  This would provide nostalgic anticipation all the way through the game as missions allow the player to run into characters from the trilogy.

This scenario would allow a new avatar main character who is legitimately a N7.  The character could be elevated to Spectre or some new construct that feels special.  As for the main quest, it would need to be something expansive to utilize the familiar and beloved locations throughout the galaxy.  Perhaps the threat is something to do with leviathan, Protheans, or dark energy.  Like the OT, where the mission is sweeping and dire, the player could recapture the significance they felt as Shepard.

There would be a lot of fan satisfaction in providing closure to the trilogy.  You see what happened to Shepard and their companions.  You see what happened to the galaxy.  Are the krogan prospering because Shepard cured the genophage, or are they struggling because Shepard gave a fake cure?  Are the geth or the quarian alive?  Based on the ending you chose, how did it affect the rebuilding and where society is now? There's a lot of satisfaction in seeing the impact of previous choices.

In conclusion, if I was Bioware, I would set the next game 10 years after the original trilogy.  I would have the main character be a N7 saving the galaxy from some form of disaster.  Shepard would take a consulting role if alive.  Characters from the trilogy would make cameos throughout the game’s missions.  There would need to be some tweaks based on ending, but destroy and control don’t need to be very different, if the reapers have helped rebuild and now returned to dark space.  The synthesis ending is more of a challenge but could be accomplished by adding details, visually and within the storyline, that support an organic/machine merger. 

I think this type of game would lead to the best commercial success, keeping continuity with what made the trilogy successful, while also playing fan service by providing a nostalgic closure.  The ME trilogy remaster wouldn't just revive interest in the ME franchise, it creates renewed interest in Shepard and their story specifically. Anyone who loves the trilogy would be immediately interested and invested in the new gamd, and if done well, there’s a high chance it would be highly satisfying and positively embraced by fans.

[lady-of-all-cards]

Ikemen Revolution: Alternate Ending (Lancelot Kingsley)

One-Shot Statistics: Pages: 5 Word Count: 2312 Characters: 12843 Characters (without spaces): 10593

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution Characters: Lancelot Kingsley, Jonah Clemence, Edgar Bright, Zero, Luka Clemence (Mentioned), Alice the Second (Mentioned), Amon Jabberwock. Pairings: Lancelot Kingsley/Main Character Summary: What would have happened if Alice made it home on the fateful night? Would anyone come to his rescue, or would he die atop the tower fulfilling his one true ambition…?

Notes: SPOILERS!This is an alternate universe based on the event that Alice the Second managed to return home the night of the full moon. All character credit goes to Cybrid Entertainment, and if you haven’t already, I highly recommened you download Ikemen Revolution and experience Lancelot’s Route and the original ending for yourself.

After a fateful goodbye, Jonah let the smile fade from his lips. He had truly thought Alice was the answer to their struggles, to their strife, but in the end, she had just been another fleeting hope, another victim of a long list of broken dreams…

Shaking the thought from his head, Jonah straightened his back and, although it was more and more painful after every step, began to make his way from the back of the Garden, through the quaint tea party setting and down the stoned marble stairs of the Civic Center.

He slipped out the back, closer towards home, to avoid any Black Army scouts. It would soon be time for the two armies to finally clash, to bring five-hundred years of peaceful strife to an end in blood, sweat and tears. He swore by his crimson blood that he would faithfully serve his king, so why did the thought of cutting down the enemy, of running a red river through Cradle, hurt him so much?

Shaking his head, he made his way over to Edgar, who seemed strangely… off guard, or at least distracted by his pocket watch he was staring at so intently. It was usual for him to be so out of it, but as the elder Clemence drew closer, his subordinate muttered a question, letting it hang on the wind and drift to his commander.

“Why is a raven like a writing desk, Jonah?” Jonah had barely heard him, and at first thought he had misheard the Crimson Jack, and graced him with an expression marred with confusion, but he wasn’t given a chance to voice his question before Edgar continued. “Because, freedom soars on raven wings.”

“What on earth are you going on about now?” Jonah stressed, motioning widely with his arms, hitting his sides as if it would somehow push his point further.

“Our fearless King hasn’t shown up yet, Jonah. What is our army without him? Burnt out blood with hopeless intentions. Something is off about this whole thing and I don’t know what it is. I don’t like not knowing things.” His index finger closed the lid of the watch as he deftly slipped back into his pocket. Edgar’s gaze tracked the foggy street ahead, as if expecting something to crawl out and take down their entire army in one fell swoop.

“I mean… it is strange for King Lancelot to not be around… Has he not told you anything? I doubt he would leave us in the dark about anything relating to the war.” Jonah’s voice was uneasy as he looked over the army stood at attention at his side.

“Zero seemed a little off this morning, too. I thought it was because he was still recovering, but now I’m not so sure. I haven’t seen him since our march began either. He was commanding at the back of the army, but he should have-”

“Edgar!”

“There he is.” The Jack turned to the rush of horse hooves, and Zero jumped from his horse just before the mare reared in front of them. There wasn’t a break in the movements, and both his commanders were impressed with the fluid movements he had displayed.

“Zero! Have you seen King Lancelot?” Jonah near-begged for an answer, ignoring Edgar. However, the painful contort of Zero’s expression made more panic course through him.

“There’s no time- we need to get to the Magic Tower. That’s where King Lancelot is.” Zero breathed, mounting his steed once again, shifting in the saddle and giving his two commanders an urgent look.

“What’s going on? What do you mean King Lancelot’s at the Magic Tower?!” Jonah demanded, his panic now arising in his voice, but Edgar’s following question seemed more prevalent.

“Zero… who attacked you and Alice that day?” The Ace’s expression and resounding silence answered Edgar better than any words could. Edgar jogged over to two tethered horses, unhitched them both and handed one set of reins to Jonah.

“We have to move quickly. The attack can wait until we find out what on earth is going on!” Jonah commanded, mounting the horse Edgar had led over.

There were no more words passed between them as they all urged their steeds to the Southern forest. The moon floating in the night sky showed it’s full face, illuminating the faint trail they followed.

“We’re nearly there. We should be able to see the Tower soon.” Jonah called over the wind to the two men backing him. “Stay on your guard.” 

“Wait, Jonah–” Edgar spurred his horse on and grabbed the reins of Jonah’s horse, pulling them back and subsequently slowing them both down. Zero reined his horse in seeing them both slowing down.

“Edgar, what’s wrong?” Jonah asked, squinting at the treeline.

“What are they doing here?” Was the Jack’s reply, motioning to the shadowy figures moving through the line of trees just ahead of them. The words drifted to the trio from afar.

“We need to hurry.”

“Yes. We must be there to see the end of the armies so we can report it to Lord Amon.”

“This will be a night for the history books! We’re about to witness the closing chapter of five-hundred years of conflict!”

“Sounds like they’re off to watch the battle as if it were a sporting event.” Jonah’s hushed whisper was dark, and full of anger.

“Jonah. Look.” Zero stressed, and what once was a few disciples in the forest turned into hordes of shadows. “What’ll we do if they spot us?”

“We’re supposed to be preparing for battle. If they find us here, they suspect something’s up and it’ll all be over for us…” Jonah responded, scrambling to form a plan to avoid a confrontation.

“We can’t let that happen.” Edgar chuckled jovially despite the situation. “It’ll take longer to get to the Tower, but I think we should take a detour.” The other two didn’t see any other way, and nodded in agreement, adjusting their steeds to skirt around the cloaked men, urging their horses into gallops.

As they raced through the forest with its glow of natural Magic Crystals. Jonah glanced back. It appeared they had avoided detection, and just as he was about to breathe a sigh or relief–

“Like a moth to a flame. Isn’t that the saying?” Jonah gasped and pulled back harshly on the reins, his horse rearing as his accompanying subordinates fell into place beside him. A man in a deep hood blocked their path. “I just got word from my fellow disciples. Seems they found fresh hoofprints on the ground.” The Disciple of Magic held a Magic Crystal up to his mouth, using it like some sort of communication device. “I found the trespassers. It’s the Queen and Jack of Hearts, oh, and our failed experiment zero.”

Jonah took the unguarded moment to try break off and continue the urgent journey, but before he could turn the horse, a bright flash covered their sights, and they were suddenly surrounded by cloaked men wielding Magic Crystals.

“Strange night for a joyride. Once we have you tied up, you can tell us all about what you had planned.” A menacing smile flashed from deep within the man’s hood. “Capture them! And eliminate them if they put up too much of a fight.”

“Yes, sir!” 

Jonah drew his sword, swinging his blade as gracefully as a butterfly.

“Gr!”

Jonah single-handedly cut down one disciple after another, protecting his men from their magic and blades, but there seemed to be no end to them.

“Where are they all coming from?!” He stressed, reining back in line with Zero and Edgar. Jonah paused only for an instant, but he saw a flash through the air at that same moment.

“I have you now! Die, Queen of Hearts!” Before Jonah had time to parry the blow, something else knocked the disciple’s sword away.

“That was close, huh, Jonah?” Edgar threw a gentle smile over his shoulder as he pushed the disciple back.

“Don’t back down! Get him– urgh!” The man who had been shouting crumpled to the ground in silence.

“You let a ghost from your past sneak up on you. Never drop your guard when facing military men.” Zero warned in triumph. The remaining men inched towards them cautiously.

“There’s one thing that’s clear; these guys are the enemy. Queen. Get out of here.” Edgar ordered, straightening in his saddle.

“But, Edgar–”

“Go and do whatever it is you’re supposed to do.” Edgar said, effectively cutting Jonah off, giving him the gentlest smile he could have possibly mustered, hoping it offered him some comfort.

“When I count down from three– turn your horse to the South-West and make a break for it.” Zero added, rolling his shoulders.

“Got it.” Jonah spoke curtly, giving them a single nod. “But don’t die. That’s an order from your queen.”

“We’ll do our best.” Edgar assured.

“Don’t worry. Even if they kill us, Edgar and I won’t die.” It didn’t make sense, but it was still a nice sentiment. Jonah was worried for them, but he knew he had to push forward. The disciples were glaring at the trio, weighing the situation. They knew they would attack again as soon as they took another step. “Ready?”

“Yes.” Jonah whispered, looking at his target direction.

“Three, two, one– Go!” At Zero’s command, Jonah kicked his horse into a gallop.

“Don’t let him escape!” Jonah fought the urge to look back, staring straight ahead through the trees. He just had to trust in them, and believe they would be safe. 

The dense trees eventually began to grow sparse as Jonah reached the edge of the forest. Jonah gasped as the Magic Tower came into view. Dark, thundering clouds around its peak. It was clear something was happening at the Tower’s peak, so he quickly reined the horse to a stop and scrambled to find a way inside, but the tower was supported only by smooth, round pillars. No doors.

A hazy glow beyond one of the pillars caught Jonah’s attention- it was a spiral staircase that spiraled up to the top floor. They seemed to float in midair as they climbed the incredible height of the tower. A fall from those would mean certain death, but he couldn’t let that stop him. He knew that Lancelot was at the top of this tower. He was fighting all by himself. Jonah nodded resolutely to himself, then took his first step onto the staircase that floated in the darkness.

He held his head up high, even though the urge to look down was strong, but a sudden gust of wind made him feel like he might get blown off at any moment. A cold sweat had broken out on his forehead, but he steeled his resolve, and looked behind him.

“Oh no…” He breathed.

“Capture the intruder!” Men in hoods were filling up the stairs after him. “Get him!” The men took out Magic Crystals, which sent an ominous light swirling towards him. Jonah swung his sword in a delicate arch, deflecting the spell away from him. “Keep attacking!”

Jonah took a deep breath, tightening the grip on his saber. The actions were purposeful, and he leapt forward suddenly.

“I don’t have time for this!” He stressed, twisting at last second and elbowing a disciple, causing him to knock back into two other disciples and sent them both over the side of the stairs. Without missing a beat, Jonah twisted on his foot, delivering a merciless kick to a disciple behind him.

What followed could only be described as a dance, with the valiant Queen of Hearts struggling against his opponents, but effortlessly deflecting the spells and warding off his assailants. He was as poised and as graceful as ever, and the fight couldn’t have ended any quicker for him…

After it did end, however, he didn’t even take a moment to stop. He continued to bolt up the stairs, his saber and bloodied uniform glistening in the moonlight.

He thrust his entire body into the door at the very top of the stairs, causing it to slam open violently, stumbling to his knees from the sudden absence, but it was the sight he saw that held him frozen in place…

A badly wounded man dressed in purple slowly stood from where he had been laying, chuckling deeply as he caught sight of Jonah’s broken figure.

“You’re too late, Queen of Hearts. Your King is dead! And Cradle is all mine!” His laugh was straight up maniacal, and it only fueled Jonah’s anger and pain as he clenched his teeth. “Submit to me, Queen, and I may just spare your life.” Amon received no answer from Jonah, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. In fact, his smile grew, the sickening grin flashing in the dull light of the crystals. “Join me, Jonah, or your brother’s life is forfeit.” 

That did it. Amon didn’t have a chance to react. How could he? A being full of rage, brimming with emotion, was something he could never fathom, and in consequence, the sharpened saber of the Queen of Hearts was driven straight through the Leader of the Magic Tower.

Amon, with what little strength remained, grabbed Jonah’s hand, trying to pry it away, trying to free himself from the weapon, but Jonah had snapped, and drove the saber deeper through him, twisting it mercilessly. 

The scorn of Cradle had been defeated, but not without stealing the dear life of Lancelot Kingsley, the fearless King of Hearts, the valiant head of the proud Crimson Army. The truth of his actions were only ever known to the Queen of Hearts, told through the inky black words of the letter he left by Jonah’s door…

The sun rose that day, but it’s light was snuffed out by heavy storm clouds…

[strangergrove]

× VOL 001 × 04.19.2020 ×

TUMBLR | @bambixxblue AO3 | moonlight_xx

× these hearts adore (every other beat, the other one beats for) ×

WORD COUNT: 10,569

CHAPTERS: 2/?

My Tumblr prompt fics all in one place. Some pining, some angst, but usually always a damn happy ending.

1. peach, curve of an ear, coffee grounds, veined hands, thunder

2. ways to say 'i love you' - 'i brought you an umbrella.'

The writing in this is so exquisite. It feels like cracking open a favourite book on a rainy Sunday morning, when the rest of the world is still asleep. It's comforting and poetic and incredibly heartwarming.

The first chapter takes us along on a sweet little vacation to California, a last hurrah of sorts, before the kids head off to college. It's sweet and peach-soaked and you can feel the ocean breeze against your skin with every passing word. It's the exact brand of happiness our boys deserve.

The second part is an achingly beautiful redemption for Billy. He learns how to let his wounds heal, learns how to let others in, learns how to trust and love. His initial interactions when he meets Steve are so precious and it shows how complex of a person he is, the softness beneath his concrete shell. I will devour any update to this amazing collection.

× the light of day shows me how ×

WORD COUNT: 39,173

CHAPTERS: 7/7

And from Robin, a single picture: the official cast list.

ROMEO MONTAGUE...BILLY HARGROVE

JULIET “JULIAN” CAPULET...STEVE HARRINGTON

Ah, fuck.

(or, Steve and Billy are in ballet school. They're cast in LGBT+ Romeo and Juliet. Featuring mutual pining, angst to fluff, and an Ancient Slavic demon cult. It gets weird.)

This is such a fun read. The spattering of background into the story really carves out the characters so well, choreographing the story in such a way that you fall into their lives without realizing it. You sit down to watch Steve practice his role for Julian and suddenly find yourself wondering if that small stutter you just saw has anything to do with any number of little details you know of his past. You see Billy storm across the studio floor and know that he’s trying to bury something that keeps resurfacing, but he refuses to let anyone help him.

It’s wonderful watching the way the boys play off of each other, pushing one another to better themselves in both their dance and their personal lives. Watching Steve fumble with his newfound and confusing feelings is sweet, hopeful, just waiting, waiting for it to tip over the edge, for the boys to fall into the space they’ve always belong: by each other’s side.

I’ve never done ballet, only watched it here and there in movies and shows, but I fell in love with this story, the way their dances are described, their movements. So if you’ve never been that into ballet, don’t let that deter you from reading this story. It’s so much more than just ballet.

× friends should sleep in other beds ×

WORD COUNT: 13,517

CHAPTERS: 2/2

It isn’t easy being in love with your best friend.

It especially isn’t easy being in love with your best friend if he’s the practical-Godfather of your university.

(or, 'I won't let anyone hurt you; you're safe with me' prompt fill where Steve thinks his love is one-sided but it absolutely isn't. Feat. loving girlfriends and Hawaiian vacations.)

This story is beyond achingly stunning. It’s all whirlwinds and longing and the white-knuckle deathgrip of trying to hold onto something you’re convinced is going to slip away. The deep, binding relationship between Billy and Steve is beautiful and heartbreaking and hopeful at the same time. Both characters have obvious trenches of emotional trauma they’ve had to trudge through to get where they are, trenches they’re still slowly crawling their ways out of.

The words are so wonderfully crafted that I felt the sway and break of Steve’s emotions at the same time he did. I felt the longing, the sorrow, the sputtering flame of hope that just refuses to gutter and die. I want to say I wanted more of this story, but I don’t know if my heart could have handled it. No, it was the perfect length, detailing the long harrowing journey of love and friendship, of finding family that doesn’t come from blood, of holding desperately onto things that are worth the bruises they leave on your fingers.

TUMBLR | @cameorabbit AO3 | CaffeinatedBunny

× Life Is Sweet ×

WORD COUNT: 8,676

CHAPTERS: 4/4

Snapshots of domestic bliss, between loving boyfriends.

(This story will be marked as complete but I will be adding chapters as the muses come to me or when I need a break from some of my larger wip)

This wonderful little collection offers us a sweet insight into the boys' relationship. We get small glimpses into the boys' pasts that add layers to the stories. We get to see little snippets of Steve's relationship with his mother and grandmother. We get to see Billy's insecurities. 

Each story has it’s own little theme, if you will, from baking Christmas cookies to battling insecurities in their relationship. Each story gives us a little more, brings us a little deeper into these boys’ lives, adds that next layer to them that has you coming back to see how they’ve developed. I'm looking forward to any future additions to this collection.

× When I run out of road (You bring me Home) ×

WORD COUNT: 5,316

CHAPTERS: 1/1

The road back to Hawkins Indiana is long and tedious with neither of them really wanting to reach their destination; so to distract them both Billy has a plan to make it as pleasurable for both of them as he can.

Uffda. This was a fun read. Now, before I dive into the review, just a heads up: this is a PWP with dom/sub. And apologies in advance for my inability to be eloquent about smut.

The dynamic between the two was a joy to read. Steve's mannerisms as a baby and the way Billy handles him as his Daddy was fantastic. It's not heavy dom/sub here, but you can tell they've had this relationship for a while. They're both comfortable in their roles and both know exactly what they're doing, and how to get a rise out of each other. But between the power play and the drops of backstory, there's actually some beautiful writing here, too. There were a few lines that I found myself rereading just because they sounded beautiful.

Also, I just have to say... The way Billy handles his own cock... Why do I love that so much? Just little things, too, like tapping it against the steering wheel while he's teasing Steve.

× I'll Keep you Mine ×

WORD COUNT: 3,926

CHAPTERS: 1/1

Billy's forged a kingdom and took an empty throne, and he'll burn anyone and anything that tries to take it from him.

(My Dudes this whole story is pretty much the Grumpy Possessive one claims the Sunshine One - Literally. And I ain't even mad.)

Here we get a gorgeously written tale that spins the events of the Upside Down in a different light. I don't want to spoil what that is, as it's not explicitly stated in the summary or tags, so you'll have to read to find out! This idea could easily be fleshed out into a much longer piece, but there's also something about just getting a small taste of an idea that is very enjoyable.

There is this persistent sense of danger beneath all the beautiful imagery. It's in the pacing of the story, in the way Billy needs to claim Steve. We get enough of a taste of this otherness to want more, to want to see exactly how everything unfolds.

TUMBLR | @wickedlydevious AO3 | wickedlydevious

× Weak Hands, Weak Lungs, Strong Heart ×

SERIES: Strong Heart

WORD COUNT: 2,771

CHAPTERS: 1/1

After the events at Starcourt Mall, Billy is recovering in the hospital and bored out of his mind. The only bright spots are when Max comes to visit.

And then Steve Harrington starts visiting too and that's even better.

There is a very beautiful light and warmth throughout this story. Billy's character feels so accurate, and the way he deals with being in the hospital and everything that entails is exquisitely portrayed here. What Billy has to deal with in the wake of the Mind Flayer grates against his entire personality, but it forces him to step outside of his comfort zone, outside of himself, and relearn how to interact with people, namely Steve.

The thing I loved most about this story is that we get to see these different facets of Billy, facets that maybe even he didn't really know were there, ones he never allowed himself to show because of his father. Still recovering, still being dependent on other people forces these different aspects of him into the world, and it's beautiful. It creates this very special sort of relationship between Billy and Steve that is just so pure and heart warming. I'll definitely be coming back to this when I need a spark of joy.

× Weak Backbone, Strong Convictions ×

SERIES: Strong Heart

WORD COUNT: 3,212

CHAPTERS: 1/1

After the events at Starcourt Mall, Steve starts bringing Max to visit Billy at the hospital.

And then Steve starts visiting on his own.

The sweetness continues with the second part of the Strong Heart series. The events of the first part are retold, but this time through Steve's POV. I've always loved the idea of telling the same events from different perspectives and this did not disappoint. The events may be the same, but you feel them differently than when they were told through Billy's perspective. Though the tone of the previous installation is ultimately uplifting, it's clear Billy is struggling. This part, however, is overflowing with hope, which only adds to the already beautiful feeling of the last piece. Don't think that because you already know the events that will take place because you read the last part that you shouldn't read this one. It's beautiful and moving and there are moments added that would be a shame to miss out on. I really hope this series continues, because it is wonderfully uplifting, but it stands strong all the same, just as it is.

× T(h)ree Mistakes ×

WORD COUNT: 4,559

CHAPTERS: 1/1

It’s their first Christmas in their own apartment and Steve reluctantly tasks Billy with getting the tree.

Mistakes are made.

This is a great read for the holidays. Billy's tree-getting adventures brought back so many memories of going to the tree farm down the road from our house as a kid and making a day of trying to find a tree that didn't look like trash and wouldn't break the bank. The feel of the story is cozy and sweet, like a warm and sleepy holiday morning. The kids, now teens, make a short but fun appearance that really makes this story feel like it's about found family. 

This story is like coming home, rounding up all of your best friends you haven’t seen in ages, and making a night of the holidays. It’s sipping eggnog, the lights turned down low, and listening to the sweet croon of gentle music somewhere in the house. This story is comfort and happiness and love. Now I want some hot apple cider...

QUESTIONS? VISIT THE FAQ

FIND ALL VOLUMES HERE