#going to the beach every day to show off their rigs

[fazcinatingblog]

What do you mean there's no big bash on till Tuesday?????

[steddieasitgoes]

Detours & Second Chances

written for @steddie-week Day 5 prompt: Reunion / Getting Back Together Rating: T | wc: 3545 | no cw Another big thank you to @sidekickjoey and @thefreakandthehair for giving this a beta read for me! Read on ao3

Steve had high hopes for this road trip. 

Just him, the twins, and the wide open roads with the promise of the beach and Disneyland on the horizon. He knew better than to plan it down to the second, especially when traveling with Mabel and Ollie, but he did hope to keep to some kind of schedule. A few nights here, a couple of nights there, a handful of free time hours carved into nearly every day so the kids could pick which tacky roadside attraction they could visit and then gloat to Aunt Robin about seeing. 

What Steve hadn’t planned for was the Winnebago going up in smoke four and a half hours from Disneyland on I-15. 

The good news is that it happened just as they entered Las Vegas, Nevada, and not thirty minutes later in the middle of the Nevada-California desert. The bad news is that it happened just as they entered Las Vegas, Nevada on a Sunday afternoon when everyone was trying to leave. 

Steve expects the drivers around him to curse and flip him off. At the very least, he imagines them shaking their heads in disapproval as they slowly inch past the smoking Winnebago broken down in the middle of the three-lane highway. And there is some of that, honking horns and judgmental gazes, enough that he has to explain to Mabel and Ollie that showing someone your middle finger is not nice and no you shouldn’t do it to each other. But there’s also a handful of Sunday travelers who take pity on him. 

Two truck drivers manage to get their rigs off onto the shoulder and then mosey their way over to see if they can help Steve identify why the RV is smoking. A woman in a mini-van full of preteens in sports jerseys offers him an entire ice chest full of snacks for Mabel and Ollie. Some good Samaritan even makes the half-mile hike to the nearest pay phone to call for a tow truck so Steve doesn’t have to leave the kids or make the track himself with them following behind him. 

Forty-five minutes later, they all climb into a yellow taxi while Winnie the Winnebago gets towed away. For a moment, he thinks he’s ruined the entire vacation, but listening to Mabel and Ollie talk about how cool it was to watch the “toe man” do his job eases the guilt. 

Unfortunately, the repair shop is nowhere near as exciting as standing in the middle of I-15 — at least, that’s what Ollie tells Steve five minutes after they’ve walked into the garage. Steve tries his best to keep everyone’s spirits up in between filing out paperwork and bargaining with the mechanic over the price of the repairs. He lets the kid raid the vending machine and spread it all out on the worn plastic chairs in the makeshift lobby like some kind of five-star buffet. It’s mainly cookies and chips, a few candy bars, and a granola bar Mabel even generously spent $1.10 on for him. 

It’s not the worst meal they’ve had on the trip — that honor goes to the gas station in Kearney, Nebraska, and the hot dogs he knew were a bad idea — but it’s definitely the least nutritious. And, in hindsight, it’s not the best idea now that Mabel and Ollie are hyped up on sugar in a small space with no central air conditioning. He gets it. He’s almost at his wit’s end, too, and he has several decades of patience over them. 

He’s hot and tired and so frustrated, he’d break down and cry if he could, but he doesn’t want to upset the kids or ruin the day more than it’s already been ruined. Instead, he puts on his brave Dad Face™, leaves his pager number with the mechanic’s receptionist, and takes the kids to explore Las Vegas. 

The city wasn’t on their list. It’s not kid-friendly, and the July heat is anything but welcoming, but thankfully, they luck out and stumble across a hybrid game and music store a few blocks away from the repair shop.

The bell above their door announces their entrance to the quiet storefront as the sweet, sweet relief of the AC hits them. Steve closes his eyes, soaking in the cool air for a moment before Mabel and Ollie are tugging on his hands, trying to drag him in different directions. 

Steve knows he should put an end to their bickering that borders on full-on sibling bullying, especially judging by the way they’ve dropped his hand in favor of pinching each other’s arms, but he gets distracted when a figure emerges from the back of the shop. 

The footsteps are uneven, which makes sense when an ornate cane enters Steve’s line of sight. He studies it, taking in the impressive woodwork and paint job — Max’s own can is pretty spectacular, but this one is a close second. Soon, his eyes drift from the cane to the hand holding it, a ring on each finger. Silver and gaudy and eerily similar to—

“Holy shit,” the voice says. “Are my eyes giving out on me too, or is Steve Harrington really standing in my shop right now?” 

Steve’s eyes shoot up to meet the man’s face — to meet Eddie’s face. It’s been years, shit, almost a decade he thinks, but Eddie looks the same. Older, sure. A few wrinkles around his eyes and a softer belly. But he’s still him. Unruly curls barely contained in a bun at the base of his neck, mischievous eyes, and a smile that makes Steve’s stomach flip in a way it hasn’t done in too long. Yup, definitely him.

“Eddie?”

Eddie laughs, throwing his head back with the same carelessness as he had at twenty years old. Only this time, when he rights himself, he has to reach a hand up to his neck to massage the ache. “Man, this is some cosmic, universe shit!” 

“At least it’s the good kind this time,” Steve jokes. 

Eddie goes for a full-on hug, Steve an awkward side one, and as a result, they end up with their bodies smushed against each other, arms pinned between each other in the world’s worst hug of all time. But it’s also the greatest, as far as Steve’s concerned. 

When they separate, Eddie gives Steve a quick once-over before shaking his head again. “So, what brings you all the way to Sin City?” 

“A family road trip.” 

“Ah, so the six nuggets and a Winnebago dream came true, then?” Eddie muses. 

“More like two nuggets, a piece of shit rental that’s in a repair shop after crapping out on me on I-15, and a co-pilot that doubles as my son’s emotional support stuffed animal,” Steve says, then smiles. “But I can’t complain.” 

“Wheeler never jumped on the Harrington Express?” 

Steve’s interrupted by Ollie running at him with a vinyl record thrust above his head. Mabel appears a moment later, holding a giant box in her arms that’s clearly too heavy for her. She passes it to Steve, who hands it over to Eddie, who has taken refuge behind the glass counter. As soon as the kids appear, they’re gone again. Steve shouts after them to stay together and not to touch anything. It goes in one ear and out the other if the loud crash that follows a moment later is anything to go off of. Steve winces and looks at Eddie apologetically. 

“I promise I’ll pay for whatever they break. They’re a little stir-crazy from being stuck at the repair shop all day.” 

Eddie doesn’t look worried about it in the slightest. In fact, Steve’s willing to bet he didn’t even hear the crash, judging by the fond look on his face. It’s a soft smile, almost bittersweet if he had to put a name to it. It looks out of place on his face — almost too earnest, which makes no sense because Eddie is the most earnest guy Steve’s ever known. 

“Eddie?” 

“Huh, what?” Eddie blinks himself back to the present. When he shakes his head, the elastic holding his hair back snaps, sending his curls cascading down to his shoulders. It’s easy now to see the hints of gray peppered into the locks that used to keep Steve up at night — occasionally still keeps him up. 

Steve gestures toward the row where Mabel and Ollie are frantically trying to restack things on the shelves. This time, Eddie snorts and meets Steve's gaze with that familiar crooked smile. 

“Don’t worry about them. S’just boxes and shit.” 

Steve nods and then grabs a pen out of the cup on the glass counter. He twirls it between his fingers, something about the rhythmic motion calming the silly nerves running wild in his body right now. 

It’s just Eddie. 

“Nance would kill you for even thinking she’s a part of this circus,” Steve says, then panics. “To answer your question from before. No misses at all actually. Or misters either,” Steve says before he chickens out. 

Eddie left before he realized that little fun fact about himself. It was ironic (and tragic), considering he’s the reason Steve even realized it to begin with. Chalk it up to cosmic, universe shit — the bad kind that time. 

“Cause that could be an option to, you know. Obviously you know, but it’s an option for me too in case you didn’t know and—“

“Woah, breathe, Steve.” 

Steve takes a slow, deep inhale. His exhale is strong enough to send a few of Eddie’s stray curls fluttering before settling back amongst the rest. “Sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing!” Eddie throws his hand across the counter, squeezing Steve’s wrist, 

It’s silly, but something about the simple touch relaxes the nervous energy that’s taken over him ever since Eddie emerged from the back. A part of Steve wants to blame the relief on the touch, but he knows better. Knows it has everything to do with finally telling Eddie about this part of him he helped him discover. 

Steve’s been out to just about everyone he cares about, and now he’s certain he’s told them all. 

“So no misses or misters,” Eddie says, before hiding his growing smile behind a curl. “What about Buckley? Is she on the great American family road trip with you?” 

“Robin refuses to get into Winnebagos after, well, you know.” 

“Can’t say I blame her for that one.” 

“It’s just me and the kids. Mabel and Ollie. They’re my kids…I mean, well, obviously, they’re mine, and anyone who says they’re not are fucking idiots, but they’re not blood mine or whatever people say.” Christ, he’s rambling again. “I adopted them. Actually, I was supposed to be their temporary foster parent. I was in my second year as a social worker, and they were two and six months old when they came in the middle of a Saturday night and we had no one on standby. They came home with me, and then they just never left.” 

Somewhere in his rambling, Eddie made himself comfortable, pillowing his chin on his hands, elbows sinking into the giant mouse pad that’s stretched out on top of the glass counter. He’s dropped the curl, his bright smile on full display, dimple, and everything when he looks at Steve now. 

“I love a good foster fail story,” he cooed. “I have a few myself. Fosters that turned into full-on adoptions. I mean not human kids, cats. And a few dogs. Even a bird. But they’re my kids, you know. I mean, not that what you did is the same thing as me or anything, but I… I’m just going to stop talking now.”

This time, it’s Steve's hand that breaks the barrier between them, reaching out to pat Eddie on the shoulder. A reassuring thing that he hopes conveys that he’s not offended. Just in case, he spells it out for him verbally too. 

“I get it. Kids mean a lot of things to different people. If you say they’re your kids, they’re your kids,” he says, smiling. “Robin has a plant, Ferguson. When she first got it she carried it around in Ollie’s baby bjorn because she needed to ‘bond’ with it.” 

Eddie laughs, this time hard enough that the case between them vibrates. “Lesbians, and their plants, man.” 

“She rescued it from her ex, who was drowning it.” 

“We’re just all patron saints of lost things, aren’t we?” 

“Guess so.” Steve smiles, then adjusts his own stance so he’s leaning against the counter. Something pops in his back, and for once, he doesn’t make an excuse. Eddie knows all about their aches and pains — the way their bodies are thirty years older than they should be, thanks to their teenage years. He runs a steady hand through his hair, hoping beyond hope that it’s not as greasy as it feels and then turns his attention to Eddie. “What about you? Game and record store sounds like a pretty sweet deal.” 

Eddie blows out air in a whoosh and reaches for another curl. “I mean, yeah, it’s pretty cool. Closest I could get to being a rockstar, I guess.” 

“Do you still play?” 

“Occasionally. There’s a dive bar a few streets over that I perform sometimes. No band, though. At least, not yet. I’m giving myself a few more years; let the gray really come in,” Eddie says, fluffing his curls. “And then I’ll join one of those mid-life crisis dad bands.” 

“Solid plan.” He fiddles with the pen again, contemplating if he should ask what he wants, too. Screw it. Who knows when he’s going to see Eddie again — if it’ll ever happen again. It’s best not to leave anything on the table. “What about a partner?” 

“Me?” Eddie asks, pointing to himself before laughing. “Nope. No partner. No lovers either, really. It’s just me and the petting zoo. And Wayne, when the old man makes the trip out to visit me.” 

Eddie being alone all these years shouldn’t make Steve happy. He should want him to be settled by now, grossly in love with someone who makes him feel special like he deserves. But Steve’s heart is a traitor, and his brain is no better, already imagining ten different ways he could change that. 

Had he known Eddie’s been in Vegas alone all this time, he would have visited a lot sooner. Hell, he would have made this their final destination — he’s sure he could find something family-friendly here for Mabel and Ollie. There’s a lake around here or some shit, right? They could have—

“Shit,” Steve says, reaching for his beeping pager. The repair shop number appears on the small screen. “Could I borrow your phone? This is the repair shop.” 

“I suppose I could make an exception on my no-customers rule,” Eddie teases. “Phones in my office, straight back there.” 

Steve nods and rounds the counter towards the backroom but stops short. The kids. He almost forgot about the kids. “Do you mind keeping an eye on them?” Steve asks, tilting his head to Mabel and Ollie who have finally picked up the mess they created. 

“Of course! Don’t worry about them. I’m great with kids.” 

“I remember.” 

___

Eddie’s office isn’t unlike his teenage bedroom Steve spent many nights in. It has his typical brand of messiness but with an added layer of professionalism. Like, there’s an honest-to-God filing cabinet in the corner, but next to it is a three-foot-tall Yoda statue.  Papers lay haphazardly on the desk beside a calculator. 

There are posters all over the walls — some Steve recognizes, some he doesn’t — and endless photographs in mismatched frames. At least three wallet-sized frames with pictures of his pets — kids — sit on the desk. There’s one of Wayne and Eddie on his graduation day on the bookshelfnbeside photos of him with Dustin and some of the other kids over the years. 

He even spots himself amongst the familiar faces — a polaroid they took one summer in Hawkins. It feels like a lifetime ago, but a part of Steve remembers what it was like to have Eddie’s arm slung around him like that with the sun beating down their faces, causing them to squint in the photo because Jonathan refused to shoot directly into the sunlight. 

Steve gives himself another second to soak in Eddie’s office, searching for any other details he can find to fill in the years he’s missed — a pride flag draped over a chair, his business license framed on the wall, packs of half-used nicotine gum instead of cartons of cigarettes. Finally, he makes it to the phone and punches in the number of the repair shop. 

___

When Steve resurfaced twenty minutes later, the neon “open” sign that flickered in the window had been shut off. Eddie’s abandoned his post behind the counter, taking up space at a table in the game section of the store. Mabel and Ollie are sitting on either side of him, listening intently with wide eyes as he moves two figures across a board toward a hoard of waiting miniature figures. 

“I leave you for twenty minutes, and you’re already corrupting them with your nerd games?” Steve teases, ruffling both Mabel and Ollie’s hair in the process. 

Eddie scoffs. “You expect me to believe Dustin hasn’t put them through D&D boot camp yet? Please.” 

“Your stories are nothing like Dustin’s,” Ollie says, voice full of awe. 

“Yeah, he always wants to skip the fun adventure stuff and get straight to the battles,” Mabel chimes in. “That's why we like it when Daddy gets to be in charge.” 

Eddie’s head swivels so fast that the irrational part of Steve’s brain fears it’s going to fly right off. “You DM for them?” 

 “I wouldn’t call it Dungeon Master-ing,” Steve says, grabbing the back of his neck. The room feels ten times hotter all of a sudden. The AC must have shut off, he reasons. There’s no other explanation for his sudden flush. Not at all. “I really just make sh— stuff up.” 

“He’s the best make-believer! You should play with us sometime. Like tonight!” 

“Mabel, Eddie’s busy running this store; he can’t just stop to play with you. And besides, we have to get going soon.” 

“They fixed Winnie?” Ollie asks, jumping up from his seat. 

Steve sighs. “Not yet. That’s why we have to leave. I need to find somewhere for us to sleep tonight that’s—

“—I have a guest room.”

Steve blinks. Is Eddie offering his place to them? His hearing may be spotty lately, but he’s never imagined entire phrases before. Which means—

“I mean if you want,” Eddie says sheepishly this time. “I have a hoard of kittens running around right now, so if you’re allergic, it might not be the best place but—“

“Kittens!” Mabel squeals before rapidly asking Eddie a hundred questions about them, but he doesn’t stand a chance of answering. 

“Can’t we stay at his house, Daddy?” 

“I really do have a spare bedroom and bathroom. Plus, a couch and a semi-stocked fridge. And I wouldn’t charge you. The hotels around here are going to sense your need and charge you an arm and a leg, trust me.”

Steve would be stupid to turn it down. A free stay in an actual house. A meal he can cook with his own two hands that don’t involve a shitty stove that gives out after a few minutes. Not to mention, a shower with actual hot water. 

Plus, it comes with the added bonus of a few more hours with Eddie. Yeah, there’s not a chance in hell he’s turning that down. Not again. 

“Alright, yeah. Let’s do it.” Mabel and Ollie shout in excitement, spinning around the table. Eddie might not have the same energy level as them to join them, but his smile says it all. 

“It’ll be just like old times.” 

“Wait! You guys know each other?”

Steve laughs first, but soon Eddie’s cackle joins him and it really does feel like old times again. “Of course, I know him. What? You think I would let us stay in a stranger’s house? Don’t you know me at all?” 

___

Three days later, Steve finds himself behind the wheel of Winnie the Winnebago as she makes her grand return to I-15. When he glances over his shoulder as the traffic crawls for miles in front of him, he spots Mabel and Ollie throwing Fruit Loops at each other to see who can catch the most in their mouth. And when he looks to his right, Eddie’s there — feet up on the dash, hands protectively clutching Ollie’s teddy bear as if he’s hoping it offers him the same comfort it does for the six-year-old — handsome as ever.

“Didn’t think I’d ever be back in one of these,” he says fondly. “Especially not with you behind the wheel.” 

“Really?” Steve lets the corners of his lips twitch upward. Doesn’t try to fight the blush he knows is creeping across his cheeks. “‘Cause this is all I’ve thought about for years.” 

[kazisin]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏 - 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: valandil x fem!reader

| 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 → |

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: The schedule of Sea Guard training had always been the same, set sail from port, sail around and navigate the sea as the Sail Master barked orders, then drop down the anchor and spend time on one of Númenor’s many shores while learning the ways of a sea men and natural survival. That was how it was supposed to go, if not for a foreginer washed up on the beach.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: n/a

𝐰𝐜: 1.1k

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first time writing and posting, lmk if there’s anything i should change or isn’t correct

The Sea Guard trained Valandil for many things, rigging and tacking, how to hoist a sale, bailing out a boat, and Valandil’s personal favorite, sword fighting. Training was hard, to be expected, of course. His legs felt like jelly by the end of the day, dragging the heavy wooden ships upon the sand. The sand that didn’t bother to help him hold fast at all when tugging up the lumber. But it was a rewarding life, something he had longed for as a child. And there were few better rewards than collapsing into a bed of fresh linens, limbs exhausted when he could already feel his muscles setting knowing they’d be sore tomorrow.

And to spend his days toiling in the sun till his hands burned from the chafe of the rope and his throat stung from the sea salt that invaded his lungs wasn’t everyone’s idea of fun. Certainly not his friend, Isildur who always seemed to have his mind elsewhere. But it was his and he enjoyed it, enjoyed his skin turning bronzen by the sun, the way his muscles were taught and the familiar feel of the blue smock dashed with sea spray. 

It was an early Tuesday morning, the Sail Master running his mouth about the left tack and starboard side. It was a gorgeous morning, the haze after a heavy storm from last night, the aqueducts were full and close to brimming. He had spent the previous evening with Ontamo indoors with a roaring fire crackling and being muffled by the sound of thunder and the heavy downpour. He could recall Isildur staggering in like a soaked cat. The man’s dark hair pasted wetly to his cheeks, Ontamo could barely hold back his amusement at their friend. 

Days after storms were the best, waves rolling back to peace and conflicting currents that were smoothing out into a glassy surface and the sky was clear today, no longer filled with clouds heavy with rain. Isildur was wrapping a rope around a handle, holding it fast. He seemed to be in it today. Ontamo was getting yelled at by the Sail Master about taking too long getting across deck leaving Valandil the time to gaze across the expanse of cerulean and stare at the majesty of the Numenor castle and the aqueducts held up by the statues of men whose names he could never bother to remember, he was a man of the Sea Guard, not like Kemen who seemed to obsessively memorize every political and historical fact of Númenor to appease his father.

He disliked Kemen, disliked his goody-two-shoe-attitude and the way he believed he was better than everyone. He probably couldn’t handle a day at the oars without complaining about calluses. Valandil pulled away from his thoughts at the familiar loud voice of the sail master shouting commands. Something about the sail, it didn’t matter the directions as Valandil’s hands were already pulling at the ropes, months of training, reading, practicing, pouring into muscle memory. 

The helmsman today was doing a shoddy job of steering, not putting enough force on the til to turn far enough to face the front of the ship to shore. No doubt they’d get an earful about it later. It hardly mattered as the Sail Master urged everyone off the boat, dropping the smaller lightweight wooden crafts into the water to get to shore. 

Valandil made a point to always be first, some called him a show-off but he chalked that up to jealousy and incompetence as he vaulted over the side, his calves stinging at the jolt that ran up them. He grabbed the side opposite to Ontamo, Isildur lagging behind before the small boat was hoisted and became considerably lighter once their third joined. 

Valandil knew Ontamo hated running after time on the ship, he said it made his legs hurt and the saltwater always got in his mouth. Isildur decided to make a point to tell him to shut his mouth while running. The seafloor beneath them was soft and squishy, clouds of sand billowing up to taint the usually clear steel blue the color of sandstone. The other boys carrying their own jolly boats were heaving in gasps of air, panting.

The incline of the shore reminded him just how sore his thighs were, a burn searing into the tendons as they got up, the boat dragging against the sand. Isildur was sagged over like a sapling who’s trunk was broken by a vicious wind. Valandil had no time for such sloth and snapped to attention for the Sail Master, Ontamo following at a considerably slower rate and Isildur last, barely getting his arms behind his back as the Sail Master strode through the sand, heavy footfalls quiet against the shifting shore. He gave them a once over before dismissing them.

“At ease!” 

There’s the subtle sound of people putting their arms down the familiar noise of fabric against fabric. The Sail Masters' weather hardened face looks over them.

“That was sloppy, laps down the beach and back, then collect firewood.” He snaps and the response is a barely repressed sigh before the boys are off, some more sluggish than others. It doesn’t take long for Valandil to catch up. The familiar burn in his thighs are back no doubt the others could feel their own muscles straining. The thump of footfalls against sand keeps him at a steady pace, a pack of younger boys are ahead of him, still chipper about sea life and yet to be tired of it like the older boys.

Ontamo and Isildur keep pace with each other, not bothering to move as fast as Valandil who Isildur says is a “try hard.” Valandil slows his footsteps at the pack of younger boys. They’re lean and not yet muscled and the group of them have paused, silently crowding around a patch of sand. Valandil breathes out of nose to keep his air intake level, moving to the pack of boys and pushing through them. It stops him in his tracks at the sight of a figure curled in the sand, their hair is mused, soaked and strands of it lie against the shore, pinpricks of sand are over their hair and their cheeks are colorless. They’re wearing clothes that aren’t Númenorian, devoid of any white, gold, or blue of the island kingdom. It’s dark and drab, short and ripped to reveal their legs, a gash in their skin and sand freckling their flesh.

He barely gets a moment to take them in before Ontamo and Isildur are shoving next to him, it’s silent, a few worried faces, younger kids looking to him, Valandil, just because he’s usually so in control.

“Someone get the Sail Master.” Ontamo manages to say, looking up to the stricken faces of the boys.

[tinylittlet]

Babysitter Buttons on duty!

No bg for a less overwhelming look + details

Headcanons!

Of all the babysitter choices, Buttons is surprisingly good at looking after little Izzy! Peace and quiet while Izzy plays under the sea witch's watchful eye.

In my mind every crewmember takes turns babysitting their little first mate so everybody gets a chance to spend equal amount of time with him. There was some concern when it came to Buttons' turn. After all it shouldn't be possible to look after a tyke when you're quite literally a 4 pound bird. And yet...

Buttons' babysitting is nothing less than magical.

The energy surrounding him is peaceful like the sound of gentle waves crashing on the beach. In the familiar and comfy cabin it keeps Izzy relaxed. When Izzy gets upset from the built up stress and starts spiralling into his thoughts, all it takes to snap him out of his head is Buttons' soft squawk. He sits with the little guy and lets him stroke his feathers until he settles and relaxes again.

Oftentimes other seagulls make appearances, flying in through the cabin window and jump to first exchange greetings with Buttons before going to Izzy who's delighted at the visit. The feathery visitors always bring little bits and pieces for Izzy's collection of trinkets or crafts. All the seagulls crowd to Izzy and make him giggle while playing.

Whenever is time for a snack or dinner, all it takes is a moment of turned attention before a meal seems to miraculously appear out of nowhere. Getting Izzy to eat seems to be easier with Buttons too. Izzy takes turns eating one bite of the food using his hands before feeding Buttons or one of the other seagulls the other bite over and over until the meal is gone (Izzy is too focused on deviding the portions to notice the sheer size of his plate). Izzy is eating well and Buttons can't complain about going hungry himself, so dinner table manners are counted as a fair price.

If Izzy reaches for something dangerous that's been accidentally left out in the open or he wants to do something he's not supposed to, Buttons squawks in alert at him and flaps his wings or gently nips his sleeve with his beak to stop him, turning his head to give him a look. When it comes to listening to warnings, Izzy seems to react more at the bird shaped man, than the other crew (the crew in question lament over that but think it's fair since they also note Buttons' warnings more, and besides it's not like Izzy causes much trouble)

When it's finally time for a nap, Buttons ushers Izzy to his cot flapping his wings before jumping on himself, sitting and tucking his beak into his wings blinking at Izzy until he follows. Once in bed, Izzy softly pats Buttons' feathers until he finally falls asleep. If the shapeshifter's feathers are a bit mussed later, he doesn't so much as squawk his displeasure, and if somebody comments at the untidiness of his wings, they're sure to get a stinkeye.

Most often when Buttons is in charge, Izzy busies himself with drawing or crafting using all the trinkets the other seagulls brought him. He quietly sits with his tongue sticking out, focused on his creations occasionally showing them off to Buttons for a squawk of approval. Buttons keeps a careful eye on everything and catches all the colorful little rocks and beads that roll on the floor every time the ship shifts on the waves with his beak. It's pretty good at catching all the tiny pieces and he often passes particular objects to Izzy when he has trouple spotting what he needs himself.

It's after a day of arts and crafts like this that Izzy presents the experienced sailor with a bracelet made of the seagulls' gifts. Of course, Buttons can't quite wear the bracelet how it's supposed to be worn but he puts it on his neck and wears it proudly around the deck the rest of the day (it later gets added into his nest high up in the rigging for safe keeping to not accidentally loose it during flight. It becomes an important part of the nest, neatly secured on a sticking out nail for extra safety)

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Ralph + 🎠🎢🎪🎡

what a cute set of emojis!! as soon as i saw them i got some ideas c: i love carnivals and fairs so i hope this is something like what you were looking for 🖤

Ralphie had been just dying to plan a special day for the two of you, and with the weather getting nicer he knew it would finally be the perfect time for him to plan something special

A day spent at the fair with the person he loved

Nothing sounded more magical to him than going on the ferris wheel or the carosel with his girl right by his side

Going to all the little game stands and winning you any little toy or trinket your heart desired

He couldnt wait to take the walk with you down to the freshly set up boardwalk for the fair, and he made sure to tell you exactly how to dress to make sure no bothersome men could see up your dress while going on the rides

As soon as you opened the door he was all smiles

He wrapped his arms around you in an excited hug and once he set you down he admired the adorable outfit you had picked out for that day

A romper that had been absolutely perfect for the weather, and in your favorite color no less!

Along with a comfortable pair of shoes and the cutest hat atop your head to shield from the inevitable heat of the summer sun

He had nearly pulled you to the boardwalk, almost spoiling his suprise from being so excited but he knew he had to do his absolute best to keep himself from ruining your special day

As soon as you could see all the bright colors and hear all the cheers and shouts from the other patrons along the boardwalk you were so excited for the day Ralph had planned

Your first task was to just do a quick lap around the boardwalk, seeing all the rides and games and treats there were to offer the two of you, and there was plenty of entertainment to last the whole day!

Tilt-A-Whirls, carousels, ferris wheels, and of course the beach had been open for the day

Not to mention all the wonderful treats and games

Candies, chocolates, sandwiches, and all the fresh produce from the farmers stands looked so delicious you didnt know where you wanted to start

Ralph had suggested a few rides first and you figured it would be the best option

You didnt want to get an upset stomach on those rides after eating all those snacks

Your first stop was at the tilt-a-whirl, Ralphies favorite ride

He just loved how fast it went, and of course he loved how closely you were pushed up against him each time the ride spun

Hearing his giggles as the ride started to spin made your heart absolutely melt

He felt just like a kid again, and he was happy he got to share one of his favorite memories with his favorite person

Once the ride was over he of course wanted to go again, but you suggested you grab a quick bite before going on any other rides or attractions

But how could you possibly choose from all the wonderful treats people were selling?

Ralphie told you not to worry about a thing, today was your day to have fun, he was treating you to everything your heart desired

You had picked out a treat each for yourselves and a few little snacks for you to try

Cotton candy, fresh strawberries, and Ralph insisted you grab some popcorn to share together

(And toss a few pieces to the seagulls from off the pier)

As the day had gone on you went on every ride at least three times, but you both had agreed to wait until sunset to go on the ferris wheel

It would be so romantic to watch the sun set on the water as you reached the top

You giggled the whole walk there, keeping your eyes peeled on the coast to make sure you got in line just at the right time

Ralphie was a gentleman of course and held the gate open for you to step in and as soon as the ride attendant shut the door and strapped you in his arm went right around your shoulder

He wanted every single person on that pier to see that you were all his

He had the prettiest girl around and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to show you off

Especially when everyone along the pier could see the two of you right at the top

Your eyes stayed glued on the sunset, the both of you anticipating your turn for a stop at the very top

All Ralphie could do was smile at you

You looked so beautiful with the golden glow of the sunset reflecting in your eyes and your lips curled into the smile he loved to see so often

As soon as you got to the top, you admired the sunset before feeling the soft touch of Ralph’s hand caressing your cheek

He turned you to him and gave you one of the sweetest kisses you’d ever felt, and it may have been the mixture of butterflies and cotton candy in your stomach but you felt like you could float away right out of your seat

You smiled to one another as he slowly pulled away, the cutest pink blush on his cheeks as he whispered to you

“Would you hate me if i shouted something from all the way up here?”

You giggled and promised you’d never hate him, and that’s when he turned out to the crowds on the pier and shouted from the top of his lungs:

“I’M IN LOVE!”

You giggled as you heard the cheers from a few people on the pier and as your turn at the top came to an end you gave Ralphie a sweet kiss on the cheek

He had hoped to bring you along the next year, and that he was able to share another special moment with you like this for many years to come

[arasjeep]

What is Off-Roading, and Why is It So Popular?

Off-roading isn’t just about going for a drive; it’s about embracing adventure and exploring the path less traveled. It’s about taking your vehicle off the smooth pavement and into the wild—whether that’s through forests, over dunes, across rocky trails, or into deep mud. It’s a journey where the road ahead is unpredictable, making each trip unique and thrilling.

But why is off-roading such a big deal? And how does ARAS Jeep Madurai fit into this exciting world? Let’s dive into what makes off-roading so popular and why people can’t get enough of it.

The Thrill of the Ride

At its core, off-roading is all about the adrenaline rush. Unlike your daily commute, off-roading takes you off the beaten track, where every twist, turn, and obstacle becomes a new challenge. There’s something incredibly satisfying about maneuvering through rough terrain, conquering steep hills, or powering through thick mud. The adrenaline kicks in, your senses heighten, and suddenly, you’re fully engaged in the moment. It’s an escape from the everyday that leaves you feeling energized and accomplished.

Connecting with Nature

For many, off-roading is a way to reconnect with the great outdoors. It’s not just about the driving; it’s about the places it takes you—places where you can feel the wind on your face, smell the fresh earth, and hear the quiet hum of nature. Off-roading gets you to those hidden spots that most people never see—remote forests, expansive deserts, towering mountains, and secret beaches. It’s the ultimate way to escape the noise of modern life and find peace in the wilderness.

The Community Vibe

Off-roading is also a social experience. Whether you’re hitting the trails with a group of friends or joining a larger off-road event, there’s a strong sense of camaraderie among off-roaders. It’s about sharing tips, helping each other out when the going gets tough, and celebrating victories together. This community vibe is one of the reasons off-roading is so special—it’s a shared passion that brings people together.

Personalizing Your Ride

One of the coolest things about off-roading is the chance to make your vehicle your own. Off-roaders love to customize their rigs, adding lift kits, beefy tires, winches, and other gear to make their vehicles more capable and more reflective of their personality. It’s not just about making your Jeep look tough (though that’s definitely part of the fun); it’s about improving its performance so you can tackle even tougher trails.

ARAS Jeep Madurai gets this. As official Jeep dealers in Madurai, they offer a variety of Jeep models perfect for off-roading. Whether you’re eyeing the iconic Wrangler or something like the Compass or Grand Cherokee, ARAS Jeep Madurai can set you up with a vehicle that’s ready to take on anything.

A Trend That’s Taking Off

Off-roading has seen a huge boost in popularity recently, especially among younger adventurers. Social media plays a big role in this, with off-roaders sharing their epic journeys and inspiring others to get out there and explore. Events like Jeep Jamborees and Overland Expos are also adding to the buzz, attracting crowds of enthusiasts eager to swap stories and show off their rigs.

Jeep, a brand that’s always been synonymous with off-roading, is stepping up to meet this growing demand. Vehicles like the Wrangler are designed with off-roading in mind, offering features like four-wheel drive, locking differentials, and high ground clearance to help you tackle any terrain. And if you’re in the Madurai area, ARAS Jeep Madurai is your go-to spot to find these adventure-ready Jeeps.

Off-Roading with the Family

Off-roading isn’t just for thrill-seekers; it’s something the whole family can enjoy. Many trails are family-friendly, offering a mix of adventure and safety, so everyone can join in on the fun. Picture a day of exploring new trails, stopping for a picnic in a scenic spot, and maybe even setting up camp under the stars. It’s a fantastic way to bond as a family and create lasting memories.

At ARAS Jeep Madurai, they understand that off-roading is often a family affair. That’s why they offer vehicles that are not only tough and capable but also comfortable and safe for all passengers. With their range of Jeeps, you can hit the trails knowing that your family is in good hands.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ)

Q: What’s the best Jeep model for off-roading? A: The Jeep Wrangler is a fan favorite for off-roading, thanks to its rugged design, great ground clearance, and off-road features. ARAS Jeep Madurai offers various Wrangler models that are perfect for tackling tough terrains.

Q: Can I customize my Jeep for better off-road performance? A: Absolutely! Customization is a huge part of the off-roading experience. From lift kits to off-road tires and winches, there are plenty of ways to make your Jeep more capable. ARAS Jeep Madurai offers a range of aftermarket accessories to help you personalize your ride.

Q: Is off-roading safe for beginners? A: Yes, as long as you start on easier trails and gradually build up your skills. It’s also important to learn some basic off-road driving techniques and make sure your vehicle is in good shape before heading out.

Q: Does ARAS Jeep Madurai offer off-road driving courses? A: While ARAS Jeep Madurai focuses on vehicle sales and customization, they can point you in the right direction for local off-road driving courses and events where you can learn and practice.

Q: What should I pack for an off-road trip? A: Be sure to bring essentials like a first-aid kit, recovery gear (like a winch and tow straps), plenty of water, snacks, a GPS or map, and communication devices. It’s also wise to pack extra fuel and some basic tools for any necessary repairs.

Off-roading is all about adventure, excitement, and discovering the world in a way most people never get to experience. With the right vehicle and little preparation, off-roading can be incredibly rewarding activity for anyone. ARAS Jeep Madurai is here to help you get started, providing top-notch Jeeps and the accessories you need to conquer any trail.

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (December 6/2020) - End of Week

What started as a sad but calm day ended with a revolution where morality was questioned and blood was shed. The server’s first canon death since the three lives rule was implemented occurred, and all hell broke loose.

Dream’s motivations have started to be laid bare, but whether or not he’s in the wrong or right remains foggy as ever in a world where everyone’s morals are gray.

Also, the prison’s construction continues and some strange red corruptions called “Blood Vines” have sprouted up on the server.

A short summary of the week’s total events is at the end of the post.

---

- HBomb hosts Niki and Wilbur’s L’Cast

- Fundy continues work on the chess board

- Ranboo is leaving a book with messages to communicate with Tommy

- Fundy and Ranboo visit Tommy and help him through the Nether to find blaze rods. It’s a very...interesting...time... Fundy fills Tommy in on the fact that Dream is officially recognizing L’manburg as a country.

- Tommy falls in lava and loses all his stuff

- Then he burns to death

- Then he falls in lava and loses all his stuff again

- He FINALLY gets an ender chest

- Lazar asks him for help since he’d fallen in lava and needed help getting out. As Tommy does so, Lazar questions why Tommy hasn’t turned against L’manburg. Tommy says it’s because Tubbo is there, but Lazar points out that Tubbo was the one who exiled him.

- Ghostbur comes on and says he has a gift.

- Tommy attempts to rescue Lazar from the depths of the lava pit. Techno starts arguing with him.

- Tommy falls in lava and loses all his stuff again. He gives up on helping Lazar, who is understandably annoyed at him.

- Philza joins the call wondering wtf is happening and why Tommy keeps dying, but Tommy just ends stream

- Psyche! After credits scene. Ghostbur asks Tommy to return to Logstedshire so he dies in lava to fast-travel back. Ghostbur gives Tommy a lodestone compass named “Your Tubbo” that points back to L’manburg at all times. Tommy puts the compass in his ender chest right next to the discs, saying he’ll keep it close to his heart.

- Thunder’s frustrated that Tommy got exiled exiled because the Prank War he was setting up between Dream and Tommy can no longer happen and Thunder’s great villain arc has been cancelled - he is no longer a villain now.

- Now, he wants to do the clay prank to George instead to try and get Dream and George to turn on each other as revenge for Dream burning his house.

- Puffy builds Tommy a second Christmas Tree.

--- Note: From this point on I tried to include more specific details than normal since it’s an important and confusing event ---

- Quackity declares war on the Dream SMP from Mexican L’manburg. He gets George, Sapnap and Karl on to help. He’s rigged TNT under Eret’s castle bridge and wants to invoke the same ideas as the Mexican Revolution. He wants to put M.L. on the map by staging an assassination and using George’s dethronement as an excuse to start a political movement.

- Sapnap wants to take on Technoblade but Quackity tells him that they have to take things step by step and that it’s an extremely bad idea to do it now.

- Eret asks Hbomb to be one of his knights. HBomb agrees.

- George wants his kingship back 

The explosion goes to plan with H and Puffy as witnesses.

--- ---

CANON DEATH: KARL 

Cause: Death by explosion and falling

--- ---

- George distracts Eret while Quackity, Sapnap and Karl steal his throne. Punz joins Eret’s side as one of his other knights.

 - The M.L. side reconvenes in L’manburg and drink invisibility potions. Dream is in Mexican L’manburg. He is tearing the dirt to shreds. Meanwhile, Eret gives a speech to his Knights as they head to Party Island. Dream, alone, is invisible in Boomerville.

- Sapnap gets Dream to log (he says it’s lag). The Dream SMP faction blows up M.L. with TNT. The Mexican L’manburgians kill Puffy. 

- They want to head to the Holy Land. Dream says he wants to talk. They collect at the Church.

- They argue. Dream threatens to kill Quackity permanently and make sure Mexican L’manburg can never rise again. (Also Karl’s acting is genuinely good holy shit)

- Sapnap tells George that he thinks Dream has completely turned against them, and that they’re better off disowning him.

---

Dream: “You’re painting me as this tyrant when I’m just trying to maintain peace.”

He refers to it as his castle, his throne. He calls the people of M.L. “terrorists.”

---

He says that in his eyes, Mexican L’manburg does not even exist, and that he’ll speak to Tubbo about making sure he sees that it doesn’t exist as well.

M.L. argues that putting a human life above a few blocks of gold is more important.

Dream refers to himself as the “ruler” of the Dream SMP, the “leader,” letting it slip that “king” is a meaningless title.

He says that Quackity is causing the most problems, the number one “enemy” of the SMP right now. Similar to how he referred to Tommy defying him.

He says that Quackity is not like Tubbo, who is a “fair, just ruler” and that is why New L’manburg is recognized and Mexican L’manburg is not. Tubbo would never do what Quackity did. Wilbur and Jschlatt and Tommy would. He says that he waited until New L’manburg had a reasonable leader to recognize it.

- “Un-killing” is implied to be a thing, where the person who gave you your canon death can take it back. 

---

 Dream: “The king is a figurehead and he knows that!”

Eret: “I do.”

Quackity: “So that’s what you are Eret -- a puppet--”

Dream: “Yes! -- no he’s not a puppet-- h-he has no power and I have - and - it’s the same thing and--”

(Dream proceeds to deny Eret being a “puppet”)

---

- Quackity decides to dissolve Mexican L’manburg for a clean slate and call it something else. He wants the server to have a precedent of establishing new countries without having to go to Dream for recognition every time.

- Eret agrees to recognize Quackity’s new country if they apologize and return the throne.

--- ---

CANON UNDEATHING: KARL (?)*

* Dream says that the death is still canon later since plot was based around it. I don’t know what Karl considers his death count to be? 

--- ---

- Sapnap declares that he no longer wants to fight Techno but Dream instead. He says he wants to slay Dream in front of everyone.

- Overall, Dream and Eret declare it a “failed coup” and say that the destruction is just a consequence of “what happens when you don’t plan anything” but Quackity is satisfied that his new country has been “put on the map.” 

- Quackity declares the country to be named “El Rapids” in honor of Cedar Rapids.

- Punz no longer wants to be an official Knight.

- Quackity misses Ghostbur and wants to speak with him. He tells Ghostbur about the war. Ghostbur asks if it was a revolution - Quackity says yes! Ghostbur also informs Quackity that he burnt the sacred texts - How to Sex 2 - in lava.

- Karl streams with the intention of rebuilding and preparing for Pokimane’s visit

- Karl steals Eret’s Museum Llamas and gets caught in the act. Fortunately this doesn’t spark up the war again. They take a llama to Party Island.

- They get into trouble at Boomerville and Lazar joins.

- Dream comes online and asks Sam about the prison’s progress. Bad gets annoyed at Sam for destroying the beachfront property value, and he didn’t authorize the seizure of the land. Dream is there helping to shovel but Bad wants him to stop. Bad is angry about the prison being built and starts shouting at Sam.

- Bad tries to negotiate with Dream. Dream refers to the prison as containing a “prisoner.” Singular. And that the prisoner would have nothing, and Bad would be in charge of helping to guard it. There are going to be multiple “layers.”

- The prison will be in the middle of the ocean bit, and Bad would have a terraformed beachfront property. All of the land would be considered property of the Badlands - including the prison.

- People are going to have to go through PORTALS to escape the prison.

- Bad starts to come around to the prison idea. Dream tells Sam he thinks they need more hands to help, potentially Ant and Eret.

- A strange, giant red “egg” has appeared in the corner of Bad’s statue room. He feels a strange aura coming from it, and he’s unable to bring himself to break it.

- Dream says Eret can’t help with the prison but he can help make the beach nicer. Bad says he might want to put Tommy in the prison but Dream says no, Tommy’s already exiled. So the prison isn’t for Tommy.

- Once the prisoner is in there, Dream says they would only be able to be let out “by the server.” It’s got certain secrets that only Dream and Sam know about. Sam says that he could potentially escape from it, but it will be so impenetrable that even if you know the secrets it would still be difficult to escape from.

- Bad shows Dream the Egg. Dream gets creeped out by it.

- Another Red Corruption has appeared near Hutt’s Pizza, and another at the Mansion. Everyone swears that it wasn’t there before, and there wasn’t enough time for someone to place all of it manually in the time that they were down there.

- Bad stabs Dream for trying to “hurt it.” He likes it for some reason.

- Bad asks Dream about who the prison’s for. Dream says “if you can’t kill somebody, you need to lock them up.” He mentions that it’s one of the more powerful people on the server, someone who either provides a threat now or in the future. He has someone in mind.

--- ---

Dream explains to Bad and Sam that the reason he switched sides in the Manberg-Pogtopia War was because Schlatt gave him something.

And that thing is “a card up his sleeve” until he needs it.

A book of great value.

It puts Dream in danger if people know of it, but also gives Dream power.

The “most valuable thing on the server.”

Something pertaining to the prison.

Something where they wouldn’t believe Dream if he told them what he was given.

--- ---

- The corruption grows AGAIN despite Dream, Sam and Bad all being in the middle of the ocean

- Another corruption appears on Tommy’s Power Tower

- The water level in New L’manburg has risen again, covering George and Quackity’s mushroom house

- The prison is going to be as tall as a MOUNTAIN

- Dream proposes the idea of Bad giving him the disc to piss off Tommy. Bad says that Skeppy has it so he’ll have to ask some other time. He might trade some information about Schlatt’s book in return for the disc.

- Bad says he likes the name a dono came up with for the corruption -- “Blood Vines”

- Dream and Sam removed the Blood Vines on the Mansion to Bad’s dismay. Sam burns the Vines and Bad goes on a murderous rampage against him.

- Technoblade got a “Bee our guest” achievement

- Dream burns down the Eiffel Tower again.

- The prison will be reinforced with 15 layers of obsidian, and the guards will have Ender Pearl Stasis Chambers that are alarm-activated.

- The Blood Vines have sprouted up from Schlatt’s Grave.

The prison’s unofficial name as of right now is “Pandora’s Vault,” but it is subject to change.

Upcoming events:

- Karl will be touring Pokimane around soon

Potentially Scrapped:

- Elytra Challenge

- Bad and Skeppy’s plan to burn the disc *

* Bad mentioned it on stream, but it’s unclear if it’ll still happen

END OF WEEK RECAP:

11/30: Fundy bonds with Wilbur, Cursed Lore Day

12/01: Creation of Mexican L’manburg, Girl Dream visits, Mexican Manhunt

Note: not sure what’s up with 12/02. Probably messed up the dates? Whoops.

12/03: Sleepy Bois Family splits in half, dethroning of George

12/04: Day of the Exile, Badlands start to divide

12/05: Tommy’s first full day in Logsted, Sean’s visit

12/06: The Mexican L’manburg Revolution, end of M.L., start of El Rapids

---

!!! SPOILERS AHEAD !!! 

- Wilbur had two special lodestone compasses in his inventory. He didn’t want HBomb to see, but H looked anyway.

[angelecho]

Can I request some First date hc's for Karasuno? 🌼

going by jersey number order and then the two managers!

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Daichi Sawamura:

→ i feel like he's a really old fashioned guy

→ he'll show up to your house dressed nicely, and tell your parents that he'll bring you back before the curfew ends

→ he'll most likely take you out for dinner then go to the theater and watch a movie, then drive home together

→ he'll take multiple photos of you and send them all to you for your Instagram or for personal use

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Kōshi Sugawara

→ PICNIC DATE PICNIC DATE

→ the both of you will plan beforehand what kind of food/snacks/aesthetic you're going for, and then he'll go and set it up to surprise you

→ he'll play a Spotify playlist that he made just for you

→ and he'll "accidentally" have WAP in there

→ and he "accidentally" know the entire dance

→ and will "accidentally" dance it for you

→ also if you want this to come true, there's a literal playlist on youtube of this that I ABSOLUTELY live for

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Asahi Azumane

→ coffee date!!

→ it'll be at one of those really aesthetic cafes with nice sofas so that you two can talk in comfort

→ and maybe a walk around the neighborhood once you both finish your coffee

→ the walk might take a while because every time a person with a dog passes by, he'll ask to pet the dog

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Yū Nishinoya

→ he skateboards and you can pry that headcanon out of my cold, dead hands

→ he probably either teaches you how to skateboard or if you know how, then takes you around the neighborhood

"Noya, where are we going? We've just been going around in circles?"

"Shh, i know the popsicle vendor is somewhere here, but I somehow can't find it"

"... we passed it two blocks ago"

"whAT???"

→ after getting popsicles, he'll drop you off at your house first before going back to his

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Ryūnosuke Tanaka

→ he would rather die than admit it but he was really nervous making sure everything was perfect

→ he planned out a little day trip around the city (stops included the bakery, a park, a cafe for lunch, and then a movie)

→ he strikes me as the type of guy to dabble in photography so he would have a pretty nice camera around his neck to take photos of you around the city

→ like he would lie down on the middle of the road in traffic to make sure to get the best shot of you

→ he sends them all to you and probably keeps one of them in a photo frame on his desk to motivate him when he studies

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Chikara Ennoshita

→ he'll also take you on a day trip, but it's more of a one destination type of thing

→ the place is wherever you expressed the most interest in (ie: the zoo or the aquarium or the gardens, etc)

→ he'll also film parts of it (he won't tell you this yet, but he's planning to compile any and all videos of you to make a short movie/video for your one year anniversary)

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Hisashi Kinoshita

→ he would probably take you to an ice cream parlor!

→ after eating icecream he would probably take you on a walk around town and buy you a flower

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Kazuhito Narita

→ baking together!!

→ one of you would probably end up burning something on accident, but it would still be fun

→ some sort of feel-good movie would probably be playing in the background

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Tobio Kageyama

→ to be honest, he's a bit newer at love in general, so if you were to look at his search history it's literally just

"what do you do on a first date"

"first date best places to go to"

"is it too early to kiss on the first date"

→ and Hinata is of absolutely no help (no surprise there)

→ in the end, Daichi suggested that he go watch a movie with you

→ so he did, you guys ended up watching a movie but Kageyama fell asleep because he got up at 4 in the fucking morning to practice volleyball with Hinata before school

→ he ends up accidentally cuddling/clinging to you (which is absolutely adorable)

→ he wakes up near the last 5 minutes of the movie, and unclings himself from you in an embarassed frenzy, but was relieved to see you were asleep and probably didn't notice (news flash: you were awake but pretended to sleep to save him his dignity)

→ you guys end up texting late into the night after getting home

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Shōyō Hinata

→ he would take you to the amusement park or whatever state fair is going on locally!!

→ somehow??? he doesn't get lost and can always find you, despite constantly disappearing for the first half of the date

→ you both go on rides together and he does the rope ladder to get you a giant stuffed animal and goes again to get one for himself

"Shoyo, how did you even get up that? twice?? It's rigged to make it hard."

"Oh, I know it's rigged. I purposely built one exactly like it so I could get used to it and practiced on it"

"damn"

→ the entire way home he's smiling ear to ear and waves you goodbye

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Kei Tsukishima

→ for your first date you guys go get coffee and walk around and come back home

→ the next day when Tanaka pesters him about it he's confused

"how was your date?"

"What date?"

"??? did you not go somewhere with y/n?"

"I did go somewhere...we went to the coffee shop."

"mhm, and??"

"and what?"

"AND??? you're dating them!!"

"oh shit-"

→ so he apologizes and asks to go on another "first" date, to which you agree

→ you guys end up going on a study date at the library followed by another cup of coffee

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Tadashi Yamaguchi

→ he would take you to a place like color-me-mine and have a duo spotify playlist to play while painting

→ at the end, he would take you to get a meal at a local restaurant or cafe before walking you back home

→ when you get it back a few weeks later, he would the one he painted to you as a gift

→ it's a beautifully painted coffee cup in your favorite aesthetic

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Bonus!:

Hitoka Yachi

→ Yachi was talking with Kiyoko about where to take you because she wanted it to be perfect

→ Tanaka overheard and suggested a beach trip, to which she agreed was a good idea

→ however, what was not mentioned was that Tanaka and Nishinoya would be following along

→ they promised to be quiet and "unnoticeable" but that meant that they were wearing terrible disguises (Tobiyolo Swaggeyama part 2)

→ the trip overall was hilarious and you both had a good time and fell asleep on the ride back home (Tanaka got a photo but it ended up being shaky because Saeko was driving them home, but it was a picture nonetheless)

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Kiyoko Shimizu → she would probably take you on a light bike ride around the scenic part of town

→ of course, she would take photos of you whenever you asked

→ you would stop by a cafe to cool down before heading over to a pet cafe of some sort

→ the entire event would be lighthearted and fun

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

hope you enjoyed it!!

[icegoddessrukia]

Beach + Brittana

Summary:

“I lost my bikini top.”

Santana was not expecting this at all.

“Whoa, really?” She squeaked in response.

Or

Brittany has a wardrobe malfunction at the beach and it's up to Santana to save her. Set during the summer after Season 2.

An unofficial field trip with the entire Glee club was the last thing Santana wanted to be doing during her summer vacation. She had grumbled, groaned and cursed about how she lame it would be to spend a whole week with those losers but Brittany had pouted with that sad little look in her baby blues and that was all it took for Santana to reluctantly agree. So here she was, in her sexiest black bikini and dark sunglasses, laid out on a beach towel to get her tanning on as she did her best to distance herself from the rest of the Glee club "family."

It was ostensibly supposed to be an educational field trip but it was turning into chaos because everyone was in full party mode. Schue was peak corny dad the whole time, settling arguments between the teens as he kept going on about how this was the birthplace of this and that band from decades ago. Santana was ready to kill the next nerd who launched into an impromptu Beach Boys medley. She suspected the only reason Mr. Schue wanted to go on this trip to LA was to snag some hotel room time with Pillsbury but whatever. She didn't even want to think about whatever those two weirdos got up to. Horrifying.

It hadn't taken long for the Glee kids to slip away from their hotel rooms, insisting to their chaperones that they deserved a beach day to do nothing, after spending so much time practicing songs and visiting "important music landmarks."

Santana felt smug. She and Britt were obviously the hottest girls on the entire beach. Yes, Santana thought, this is the life. This was where she belonged, with the rich and famous, somewhere hot where she could show off her gorgeous body, be admired by all and never go back to boring Lima again.

It was difficult to focus on LA and how hot she looked when all she could think about was a certain blonde. Brittany strolled across the sands in a tiny blue bikini that left practically nothing to the imagination, heading in Santana's direction and the dark-haired girl bit her lip, forgetting how to breathe. The blonde didn't seem to notice heads turn and jaws drop as she made her way over, every male on the beach making no effort to hide that they were checking her out. Santana noticed and barely resisted the urge to throw a volleyball at Artie Abrams' head as he gawked at the blonde for way too long.

“San, can we go swimming now? It’s really hot.” Brittany pleaded, shifting over to lay on the towel beside Santana’s. Over on the other side of the beach Santana could see Finn Hudson still wearing a t-shirt and sitting under an umbrella while Berry fussed over him, applying what was probably SPF 100 to his inhumanly pale skin. Santana scoffed at the sight of the two nerds.

Sam, Puck and Mike were playing a heated game of volleyball while Mercedes, Quinn and Tina sat around huddled together, no doubt sharing some juicy gossip.

It was difficult to figure out where she stood with Brittany.

Sure, they had done everything together that summer including stargazing because Britt had a thing about stars, dinner every Friday night at Breadstix (Santana paid most of the time because it felt… chivalrous somehow), drive-in nights with just the two of them in her car, a few candlelight dinners prepared by Britt and even a trip to the carnival where Santana had struggled to win Brittany the giant cat plushie she was eyeing, earning her a kiss on the cheek from the blonde (she had threatened the stall owner at the strongman game into letting her win because it was obviously rigged)...

But were they dating? She wasn’t sure.

Santana gulped, her eyes raking over Brittany’s pale, perfect form. She made a valiant effort to disguise her staring and not stammer as she answered her.

“Y-you go ahead Britt. I’ll catch up. Getting my suntan on.” She murmured as the blonde watched her curiously, showing her disappointment as she stood up again and frowned.

The truth was, Santana didn’t know if she could trust herself to interact with Brittany, especially bikini wearing Brittany without venturing into that… romantic territory they seemed to be edging closer towards these days.

“Okay then but it’s no fun without you, San.” The girl smiled at her in what could only be described as a flirtatious way, leaving Santana amazed at the sight of her those legs as she walked away.

Brittany then waded into the water, every so often leaning over - probably looking for shells to add to her ever growing collection back in the hotel room.

Santana tried to distract herself by thinking about other things like the feeling of sun against her skin, the hushed voices of Mercedes and her pack of catty gossips in the distance, but it was just impossible to not think about her best friend and wonder again about what this summer meant for them.

Wait a minute… Santana frowned as the boys from the Glee club followed Brittany into the water. Well, all of the boys minus Finn and Kurt who were still making every effort possible to avoid sun exposure as they hid under their umbrellas and sunglasses, the giant pale boy sipping on what seemed like his twentieth pina colada while Berry prattled on to him in her loud tones.

The boys and Brittany instigated what seemed to be a splash war that ended up being quite rough.

It was ridiculous how that nagging little feeling of worry and what she would grudgingly admit was jealousy made her squirm, unable to relax as she saw Brittany smile and laugh playing with the guys. Santana almost intervened when Sam and Mike grabbed Brittany, playfully lifting her but Brittany just giggled and Santana sighed. She was probably being paranoid. Brittany could handle herself and these guys were too geeky and annoying to be much of a threat to Santana's romantic life.

The game was soon over, the boys moving out of the water to go back to their volleyball game. Santana inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

Brittany didn’t go anywhere. Santana didn’t think anything of it at first as Brittany remained in the deeper part of the water, only her head visible from the beach. Then after five minutes passed then closer to ten minutes with no movement from the blonde, she thought maybe the blonde should be worried about getting burnt like a lobster.

She sat up and looked over at her friend, really looking closely now with her shades off and quickly realizing something was actually wrong by the expression on her friend’s face. If there was one thing she prided herself on, it was her ability to read Brittany’s mannerisms. Right now, all she could see on Britt’s face was panic and something like embarrassment. That certainly got Santana’s attention.

“Brittany?”

She went close to the water and shouted, not wanting to raise any alarms or look like some kind of concerned boyfriend in front of the Glee club.

“Santana! Come please!” Brittany shouted back and it didn’t sound like playful, happy Brittany, more like scared Brittany. That really made her worried.

Santana cursed under her breath, quickly getting into the water and swimming towards the blonde as fast as she could. She shivered, the icy feeling of the water a shock against her heated skin.

“Britt, are you okay?”

“N-no!” Brittany gasped in response.

The blotchy redness on her cheeks and the quiver of her lower lip showed how distressed the pale girl felt but she seemed relieved as Santana came closer.

“What’s wrong? Let’s go back to the beach.” Santana suggested, wondering why Brittany shuffled away from her nervously when Santana reached for her.

Brittany shook her head quickly. “No I can’t!”

“Why?” Santana raised an eyebrow. This was unusual behavior, even for Brittany.

“I lost my…” She lowered her voice, her eyes darting over at the other people who were crowding on the beach.

“I lost my bikini top.” Santana was not expecting this at all.

“Whoa, really?” She squeaked in response. Brittany nodded again nervously and Santana could see her covering her chest with her hands as she ducked under the water.

There were several X-rated thoughts going through her head but she remembered Brittany’s state of panic and focused on comforting her instead.

“Brittany, it’s okay. It’s just me right now,” Santana whispered gently, wrapping her arms around the girl's waist comfortingly.

Brittany closed her eyes and Santana shuddered as their skin touched. In the water like this, she could actually lift Brittany into her arms bridal style and just hold her. So she did just that.

For a moment, she forgot about the dire situation at hand and got lost in the shiny blue of Brittany’s eyes, the feeling of their bodies closer together now and with less clothes than they had been all summer.

“You know I won’t let anything happen to you.” Brittany clung to her, hiding behind Santana's body when several of the Glee boys waded into the water again.

While the blonde usually had no problem showing off some skin, Santana could completely understand why she’d be shy about baring it all for the Glee club.

“Hey Brittany, Santana!” Sam shouted at them to get their attention. Santana tightened her hold on Brittany protectively, shielding her from the view of the boys as Brittany shifted against her to wrap her arms around her neck and her legs tightly around Santana’s waist, hiding her face in her neck.

“Come hang out with us!”

“Go away!” Santana snarled loudly at him in the most ferocious voice she could muster, which was pretty deadly.

The last thing she wanted was Trouty getting an eyeful of Brittany’s boobs.

“Hey, you guys making out over there or what?” Puck shouted, clearly amused by the sight of the two girls treading water without any breathing room between them.

The other guys roared with laughter. Santana growled, just about ready to kill them.

Still, she ignored their taunting, closing her eyes as she attempted to clear her mind of thoughts of Brittany’s bare breasts pressed against her, which was almost impossible. She could tell from Brittany’s shallow breaths and well…hardening nipples that she wasn’t the only one in this predicament.

God, her skin was so soft and the urge to kiss her was so strong.

“Britt, I’ll go get you my t-shirt if you just wait here.” Santana finally whispered in a raspy voice, attempting to untangle herself from the girl who only shook her head quickly, panic setting in on her face again.

“No San you can’t! Please don’t leave me here alone!”

“Britt, I don’t want to, believe me, but I don’t know how else to help you. I promise I’ll be quick and I won’t let those boys see you.” She gazed into Brittany’s eyes, trying to convey that she would never let the blonde get hurt like that and she could see Brittany become calmer, finally letting go of the tight hold she had on Santana’s neck and shoulders.

She leaned in closer, whispering in Brittany’s ear, “You’re so beautiful, Brittany. I’ll never let anyone else see my girl.”

Brittany stared at her wide-eyed, an unmistakable blush on her cheeks that wasn’t just from the sun and practically melted against her. Her blue eyes were sparkling and Santana could count the freckles on her cheeks.

Before she knew what was happening, they were kissing.

It was the first time they had kissed since the start of summer. Part of Santana was scared but she knew no one could really see what they were doing with them being so far away from the shore and Brittany still being hidden from view by Santana's body.

It was perfect. It was their secret that no one had to know about and she had to admit, this was the sexiest thing they had ever done even after all of the trysts they had.

Santana's breath hitched. As Brittany's bare breasts pressed against her, she shivered, finding it increasingly difficult to care about what anyone else thought of them or what this meant for their relationship. Santana's desire for Brittany was taking over, her hand slipping down to cup and squeeze the girl's ass instinctively as Brittany's legs tightened around her waist, arching into her. When the blonde was the first to pull away, breathless and shuddering against her, Santana had to use every ounce of self-control she had not to take her right there.

Brittany bit her lip sexily, looking up at her with those coy twinkling eyes that suggested she knew exactly what was going through the dark-haired girl's mind. She traced her fingertips lightly along Santana's arm teasingly and pressed a little kiss to her shoulder - a promise that they would continue where they left off later. Santana smirked at her but her expression darkened as she cast a menacing warning glare in the direction of the boys.

“Hey, why are you so possessive?” Mike yelled teasingly. “No need to hog all of Britt’s attention to yourself.”

“They’ve been fucking in the water this whole time, I knew it!” Puck laughed loudly while Santana stuck up her middle finger at him. Brittany shivered beside her nervously and she suddenly remembered she had a job to do.

“Leave Brittany alone!” She hollered for good measure, popping her neck and clenching her fists as she gave them all a deadly look that suggested she would strangle anyone who disobeyed her.

Sam and Puck gulped, visibly unnerved by Santana’s expression while Mike just watched her with something like amusement, holding up his palms in surrender.

Brittany remained hiding under the water with just her head visible above the surface, that frantic look on her face returning as Santana marched away, still glaring in the direction of the boys.

She didn’t know how she did it but in the space of thirty seconds Santana managed to swim back to the beach and grab a shirt from her beach bag, making it back towards Brittany in record time.

Brittany smiled at her gratefully.

The two finally made their way back to the beach after that ordeal, the boys and even Tina's gossip squad on the beach eyeing them weirdly because of Brittany’s sudden change of clothes and the way they were clinging so closely together.

The blonde was practically glued to Santana’s side, her arm around her shoulders and nuzzled into her neck. Santana felt her stomach doing backflips because everyone could see them. Heat spread up her neck to her cheeks as her heart beat a little faster. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to pull away from Brittany, even as the girl grabbed her hand, interlacing their fingers and pressed a kiss against her neck.

[audreyimagines]

i’m so glad you enjoyed the god reader scenarios i sent, they were really fun to think of and i loved how you expanded on them :D

so here i am, with some more-

i like to imagine during Technoblade’s execution Reader thought it was a super intricate/realistic play- like they stood next to Ghostbur and handed him some popcorn saying something like “well we can’t enjoy a performance without some popcorn!” and after the whole thing goes around giving everyone involved some netherite blocks as a gift for an extremely well done performance and asks them to do it again so Reader can invite the god of theater to enjoy their show!

imagine Reader sees Wilbur and Tommy being exiled and decides to create a ravine where a field was before like “since you’ve been exiled i think you should get a cool ravine base! look it’s perfect, dark and gloomy to reflect on your current circumstances! and it’s stone like parts of your hot dog van! :D”

when Dream kills Tommy in prison Reader thinks it’s a ritual people do after an argument to make up with each other so they proceed to do the same to Dream and when Dream asks why Reader just responds “well i was mad at you about that one time you blew up part of my temple so i did what you did to Tommy to show i forgive you! let’s be friends now :D”

in las nevadas Reader offers to create some slot machines and makes them always hit jackpot when someone uses them because “don’t humans go to casinos to make money?” and when quackity explains how they work Reader’s like “oh, okay” and makes all the slot machines rigged so no one ever wins money but quackity tells them sometimes people should be able to win money and Reader’s just so confused and blows up the slot machines since “well everyone here blows up things when they don’t like them why can’t i do the same D:”

philza’s wings get partly blown off? Reader just casually hands philza a double chest full of elytra to use and doesnt understand why he’s so shocked. “philza why are you so shocked? i was gonna give you gliders but my parent says that i can only give you commoner air travel.. are you crying?!?! oh no did i do something wrong D:”

when fundy’s upset about wilbur not being there for him as a kid reader’s just there like “my parent threw me off a cliff when i was born and tried to kill me a few times before abandoning me when i turned two centuries old, and you’re telling me what wilbur does isn’t considered good parenting? humans really are strange”. fundy’s just sitting there like 🧍🏻

clueless god pt 2

pairing - another whole half of the smp x gn!reader

notes - yay yay yay thank you <333 i didn’t do philza just bc it felt like a lot, hope that’s okay

—————————————-—————————————

execution - the musical

“what happens next?” you whispered to ghostbur

he glanced over at you, polite but confused

“hmm?”

“oh you don’t know this one either. well here’s some popcorn, it seems like this act will be long.”

you summoned popcorn out of thin air and handed it to ghostbur, who happily ate some

after the attempted execution happened, filled with your gasps and shouts, you clambered out of your seat to go congratulation everyone

“great show!” you said with a smile, handing a netherite brick to tubbo. he was breathing heavily, and took it without question

you handed them to fundy as well, who gave you more of a confused look

“you’ll have to invite me to the next one! i’ve sure the god of theater would adore to see your plays!”

everyone just stared at you

finally, you appeared next to techno, who drew his sword before he saw it was you

“here you go! amazing performance!” you beamed as you handed him the netherite block, and he hesitantly took it

ravine! (c!wilbur n c!tommy)

“hurry up!” you called. wilbur and tommy were lagging behind, bodies exhausted, while you floated

finally the three of you reached a huge ravine, and the boys gasped

“how’d you find this?”

you blinked at them

“i made it!”

“what?”

“i made it,” you repeated, “i thought you guys could use a base. it has stone like your odd little van thing had! and it’s kinda dark because i figured you guys were sad, and also because wilbur’s trench coat is dark colo-“

you were cut off by tommy’s crushing hug

death (c!dream)

“there. he’s dead,” dream said through a tight smile. you glanced at the unmoving body

“you killed him after an argument right?”

dream nodded, not paying you much mind

suddenly, he was keeling over, unmoving as well

you waited a few hours. that’s what dream had done with the other people he killed

then, you snapped your fingers, and instantly both boys came back, gasping for air

“what the fuck?” dream was choking on his own spit. tommy was dragging himself to the other side of the cell

“we argued the other day! so i killed you! that’s what people do after arguments right? it means i forgive you!” you beamed

dream looked fucking exhausted and so so bewildered

casino luck (c!quackity)

“but don’t people come here or make money?” you were really trying to understand, and quackity was really trying to explain

“but they can’t win EVERY time,” he said patiently

you brightened up

“oh!” you flicked a finger

“what’d you just do?”

“made it so they can’t win,” you said happily

quackity breathed out

“they have to win SOMETIMES,” he said

you frowned

this was so fucking complicated

another flick of your finger, and every machines glass shattered

quackity let out a yell

“WHY WOULD YOU?”

“too hard. wilbur was gonna blow up stuff when everything got complicated! why isn’t it the same?”

bad childhood (c!fundy)

“so where are your parents?” you asked

you and fundy were sitting on a cliff looking over the beach

“my dad abandoned me,” fundy said quietly

you looked over at him, not nearly as upset as he was probably expecting

“oh! my parents threw me off a cliff when i was born and tried to kill me a couple times. then they figured out they couldn’t and left me when i was two centuries old.”

you said this all very brightly, and fundy stared at you

“oh my gosh i’m, im so sorry.”

you looked over at him happily

“what do you mean? that’s normal god childhood.”

you stopped to consider

“wait is abandonment not normal human treatment?”

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (3) || atz

The first three days pass as uneventfully as the sea you are sailing on. Every three hours or so, the man who you now know to the quartermaster, Mingi, unties the ropes around your arms and allows you to take a short walk around the deck to stretch your limbs. 

You appreciate the thought, but you feel like a piece of meat in a sea of piranhas. Your ankle screams in pain every time you step on it, but you force your mouth shut. It's definitely twisted, but you can't afford to show weakness now. It throbs red and has swollen to twice its normal size, so you hide it with the hem of your trousers and pray that no one sees it.

What makes you even more worried than the twisted ankle is the musket wound on your arm. Even though the bleeding has scabbed over, much to your relief, the flesh around it is swollen and the surrounding skin is tight, angry red. Yellow pus is oozing from the wound and even though you’ve tried to wipe it away as discreetly as possible with your meagre water rations, the area feels tender and you feel your lips cracking faster than what should be normal. 

Your vision of the horizon sometimes splits into two and your head swims, but you cover the wound with the coat the best you can and will the pain away.

Thrice, Mingi has caught you stumbling, but he obviously thinks you’re simply unused to being on a seagoing vessel or that you simply haven’t had the chance to stand in a long time. Lucky for you, he doesn’t suspect a thing.

Who knows what they might do to you if they see any sign of frailty?

Even after Mingi has explicitly instructed no one to harm you, the crew obviously hold a very deep grudge against you for the broken nose you gave their quartermaster. Their faces sour whenever you so much as glance in their direction and some even flash bared teeth at you. When Mingi deems that you've taken enough of a walk, he ties you back to the main mast, and the next three hours are spent gazing at the endless stretch of sea, wondering when is the next time Mingi will return.

Seonghwa, the cook, comes to feed you every meal. He is kind at heart, you can see, when he does not strip away your dignity by offering to feed you, instead undoing your bonds and allowing you to feed yourself with a spoon. His voice is soft and polite, if a little guarded, and his hands warm and gentle. While you eat, he moves among the crewmen and distributes food and rum, listens to their troubles and rowdy jokes, laughs along with them and they're so happy together it makes your chest ache.

You can't join them. The voyage is long and your dizzy spells are getting longer, but you can’t give up now.

Meanwhile, you watch the crew at work.

The captain is rarely on deck. If he has orders to relay, his quartermaster and first mate does it for him, not that you mind (the sight of him terrifies you). You take the time to notice their little nuances, what they do on board.

Anything to distract you from your missing memories and the mounting pain your body is in.

The deck is never really empty, so at least you have a constant source of entertainment and distraction. They seem to still be recovering from the aftermath of their raid of the town, some pirates carrying out their duties with bandages tied over their arms or legs. They perform lighter duties, such as cleaning out the cannon barrels and sifting the gunpowder into bags, while their brethren pack heavy cannonshot and heave on the sails. At times, the lookout descends from his perch in the crow’s nest to lead them into a silly jig or song.

You recognise him.

Tall and lean with a mop of soft brown curls that match his lively, vibrant eyes, his smile is infectious, irresistible, almost. There’s a childlike nature to him, in the playful way he messes with the crew and they can only give him fond smiles, joking alongside him and teasing him back.

Yunho, you hear his name is.

He’s the one who met your eyes back in the town as you were fleeing to the harbor, the one with the massive oak spear in his hand. He mainly stays in the rigging, only coming down to stretch his legs and make conversation with the rest of the crew, but you feel his curious eyes on you even when he’s in his usual spot in the crow’s nest. You wish he would talk to you, that anyone would acknowledge your presence, but he has orders from his captain. No one would be foolish enough to disobey Hongjoong.

On the third evening, it rains.

When the first drops land on your cheeks, you immediately turn your face up to catch the precipitation falling from the sky. They feel so good against your burning cheeks, sliding down your body and dampening your clothes. You might just be having another dizzy spell again, but you swear you see the raindrops turn to steam after they touch your bare skin.

It’s not storming yet, even though the waves are slightly more choppy than usual. Seonghwa glances up at the rain in the middle of dinner and frowns, getting to his feet. From the quarterdeck you hear Mingi shout.

“Men, to sails! We’re heading to shore!”

There’s an unhappy mumbling as the crew drain the last drops of rum and shove the remaining scraps of salted fish into their mouths, but they rise to their feet and take their stations quickly. You hear a long, drawn out creak of wood as the water pushing against the rudder forces the ship to the left, heading towards a small cove in the stretch of sandy beach they have been travelling along since dawn broke this morning. The rocky cliffs will provide protection from the coming storm and the colour of the water is a deep blue, indicating that the cove is deep enough for the ship to lower the anchor without fear of getting beached.

The opening into the cove is a little narrow but the captain seems unfazed, steering the ship straight into the cove without fear or hesitation. The Treasure glides smoothly into the little cove, and Mingi relays his next orders.

“Furl the sails and drop the anchor!” You catch sight of the quartermaster descending the stairs of the quarterdeck. His nose is looking better already, but he wears a wooden splint on his nose bridge to realign the cartilage. “We have a free night of rest today, crew.”

There are cheers echoing all about you. When docked in a small cove such as this one, the constant pitching and rolling of the ship has slowed to a gentle rock, making it much easier for the crew to get deep, uninterrupted sleep below deck. It’s no wonder that they are overjoyed… but you’ll be left alone on the main deck.

The men secure the sails, coiling excess sheets and shrouds before bundling them with heavy wooden cleats. The yardarms on the three masts are lowered and the ship finally slows to a stop, bobbing up and down on the waves.

And not a moment too late, because all of a sudden, the sky splits open and a torrential storm strikes. For a moment, you wonder if you can drown from the amount of rainwater falling, the droplets the size of beans and the wind howls past your ear. You curl into yourself, grateful to the thick ropes that are keeping you warm but wishing you had something to cover your freezing feet. Once again, as if the heavens have heard you, Seonghwa approaches you with a piece of heavy sacking.

“Here.” Is the first word someone has said to you since Mingi tied you to the mast, and his hands are warm and impossibly gentle against you as he tucks the thick, coarse sacking around your shoulders and feet. You manage not to flinch as his fingers brush your ankle, and he straightens up with a frown on his face.

Please don’t leave me alone, you want to say.

He opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but doesn’t. Instead, Seonghwa turns and strides away, following the rest of the crew who are descending below deck into the bunks. There’s a final thunk as the hatch slams closed with a resounding finality, and then you’re all alone.

It’s dark on the deck. The only light comes from behind you, where the captain’s cabin is located beneath the quarterdeck. It barely reaches you, faint and wavering, and the rain limits your visibility to just a few feet in front of you.

Seonghwa stops at the captain’s cabin for a moment, staring back in your direction, teeth worrying his bottom lip. While he’s lost in thought for a moment, the door swings open and someone pulls him inside.

“Dry yourself off.” Their navigator, Yeosang, passes him a towel, eyes soft and worried. “You don’t want to fall ill.”

“Thank you.” Seonghwa replies, ruffling his hair dry. The slightly built man returns to study the maps on the table in the middle of the cabin.

“If the storm stops by tomorrow afternoon, we’ll be able to reach Tortuga in another few days or so.” He declares, poring over the navigational maps. “But we should be careful, Hongjoong-hyung, the Royal Navy might ambush us the closer we get to the port.”

Seonghwa turns to see his captain lying back and swinging side to side in his hammock, strung up in the corner of the cabin next to an eyehole overlooking the ocean outside. But there’s nothing to be seen, it’s completely dark out there.

“I’m well aware of that.” Hongjoong replies, absentmindedly tossing one of his daggers in hand. Seonghwa bites back a fond smile.

“Captain, if you keep up that bad habit you might lose your fingers.” He chides and Hongjoong snorts in amusement, finally sitting up in the hammock to look straight at Seonghwa.

“And you need to stop calling me captain when we’re in close company, or I might use my authority to order you to.”

Yeosang lets out a chuckle as he jots down a few notes down in his rutter. “The two of you never change. Seonghwa-hyung, you should go to sleep and get as well rested as you can. It’s straight sailing for the next three days or so.”

At that Seonghwa pauses. He opens his mouth to say something, but hesitates. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Hongjoong.

“Speak your mind, Seonghwa.” His captain’s gaze is serious and unwavering as the first day he met him. “You know I will not ignore what you say.”

At that, Seonghwa relaxes slightly. They’ve been a crew, a family for years, but Seonghwa still has worries about how Hongjoong might react to certain things. Especially the one he’s about to bring up.

“The prisoner we have on board…” He begins, and Yeosang makes a noise of recognition.

“Ah yes, the stowaway you found in the cargo hold who broke Mingi’s nose.” He comments as he starts to roll up the maps once more, stowing them in their tubes. “I’ve been charting our course for the next few days, so I haven’t seen him yet. Did he cause some kind of trouble?”

Seonghwa shakes his head. “No, he hasn’t. In fact, he’s been surprisingly well behaved. There’s no rebellious behaviour in him, he doesn’t react to the crew antagonizing him, and he lets himself be tied up without a fight. He hasn’t even asked for more water or anything to cover himself with at night. Yunho says he remains quiet at all times and doesn’t speak a word.”

He remembers when he put the sackcloth around him earlier, how small and thin the young boy was, how sallow his cheeks were. But his eyes were sad, so sad and mournful, just like Wooyoung’s when he had first stepped aboard this ship trailing chains onto the deck. Eyes that had known only loneliness their whole lives.

A dark shadow flashes across his captain’s face.

“Might be a ploy to get us to lower our guard.” Hongjoong replies, his voice firm but Seonghwa can hear the mistrust in his words. “Things might be different the second we get close to Tortuga and he has a chance to escape.”

“I know.” Seonghwa swallows uncomfortably and exhales. “But didn’t he already mention that he can’t remember why he was at Raguza?” Raguza was the town they had raided just three days before.

“If that story was supposed to win my favor, it was sorely lacking.” Hongjoong leans back in his hammock, resuming fidgeting with his knife. His eye is dark, expression cold. “How unlucky can a person be, waking up without any recollection of how he came to be dressed in a Royal Navy coat, bound for the gallows when he should be an officer of high prestige and managing to escape onto the one ship in the harbor whose captain bears the most hatred towards the Royal Navy?”

“Him?” Seonghwa offers weakly, but Hongjoong gives him an exasperated glance and he shakes his head. “Your hatred towards the Navy might be clouding your judgement.”

“And your kindness yours.” His captain retorts, but there’s no real bite behind it. “If he does turn out to be a Royal Navy officer who thought this would be an opportune time to steal back their maps and escape at Tortuga, his suffering will be a lot worse than merely being tied to a mast.”

“But you cannot deny that there is a chance that he might be telling the truth.” Yeosang pipes up from shelving the very maps they were talking about, glancing at the two of them. When they don’t speak, he continues. “Temporary short term amnesia is a common symptom among those who have suffered blunt head injuries and the Royal Navy doesn’t treat its prisoners kindly.”

There��s a thoughtful pause, then Hongjoong laughs.

“Always the voice of reason, Yeosang-ie.” The captain sighs in amusement, shaking his head. “You’ve been spending too much time listening to San ramble on.”

Yeosang chuckles, but doesn’t deny it.

“I’ll think about it, Seonghwa.” Hongjoong reassures the cook, who reluctantly nods his head. “You should go to sleep. Worry about your own health instead of our stowaway's.”

That’s the most Seonghwa can do for the prisoner. “I trust you, captain. Goodnight, the two of you.”

Seonghwa turns to leave, and Hongjoong calls after him jokingly.

“Call me Hongjoong!”

Seonghwa steps out of the cabin with a chuckle. Yeosang pulls off his boots and lies down on the bed, putting his hands behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling. Maybe he should take a look at the new prisoner soon.

He sees Hongjoong stand at the door that Seonghwa has just left, one eye staring out of the glass window onto the deck, where the prisoner is.

Yeosang gives a knowing smile and closes his eyes.

Your body slackens all at once. For three days, you’ve been hiding the throbbing tenderness of the wound on your shoulder, the agonizing pain in your ankle and the pounding in your head. You feel as if someone is knocking you repeatedly on the inside of your skull with a heavy stick, and all at once your stomach heaves.

You bite your cracked lips and force the food down. No, you can’t throw up. That is the only form of sustenance you have to last you, and the captain will surely be displeased if he catches you puking over his deck. Luckily, the nausea subsides and you rest the back of your head against the solid wood of the main mast.

It’s cold and hot all at once. Your body burns impossibly hot and your tongue is heavy, as if you haven’t drank a mouthful of water for weeks. But it’s cold, so frighteningly cold, ice creeping up your veins and the once comforting feeling of rainwater on your body is like torture. You burrow beneath the wet sackcloth, the only barrier between you and the elements, and let out a tiny whimper.

There’s no one here to see you break down. You are alone, you’re in pain, your memories are lost. You’re on a hostile pirate ship and even if they don’t kill you on suspicion of being a officer of the Royal Navy, what will you do once you reach Tortuga? You have nowhere to turn, no one to help you. You are alone all over again.

A tiny sob leaves your throat and you hiccup, pressing closer against the main mast. You try again, try to remember something, anything, but all you see is a sheet of white, the sound of ocean waves in your ears. Then pain lances down your head and the back of your neck and you give up your attempt on trying to remember. Remembering is about as easy as trying to catch smoke.

Before you can catch them, tears slip down your face and you bow your head, trying to hide it. But you can’t. It spills out of you again and again in waves of soft sobs and muffled whimpers, wracking your body.

The world sways beneath you. Is the sea getting too choppy? Will the waves rise over the sides of the ship? Are you going to die, here, before any life you have truly begins?

I will be with you every step of the way.

Your eyes finally fall shut, unable to bear the weight of the pain you carry.

But you don’t hear the footsteps behind you.

Hongjoong steps forward, unflinching against the rain that pelts his body and the wind that bites at his skin. He walks around the main mast, to where Mingi has tied you up.

He observes you silently. You’re small, compared to even him, tucked up in sackcloth and held upright only by the ropes that bind you to the mast. He doesn’t bother checking the knots, Mingi is more than capable of doing a perfect job.

Your eyes are closed, head lolling forward slightly, mouth a little ajar. You look so peaceful, so harmless that Hongjoong can almost bring himself to believe your story, but then he catches himself.

No. All too easy to fool him into letting his guard down around one of the Royal Navy. Looks are deceiving. You may seem harmless, but even the most adorable of animals have fangs.

The howling wind pulls away the corner of the sackcloth that was tucked behind your shoulder and you shiver in your sleep, curling up on yourself. Hongjoong frowns, and before he can stop himself, reaches out a hand to put it back.

And immediately jerks his hand away.

Hot. You’re boiling hot. You should be freezing cold from the rain, he was intending to allow you a warm bed the next day if you just told him the truth about your identity. He touches your neck once more and feels as if he’s just placed a hand on one of Seonghwa’s pots right after cooking.

He tears the sackcloth away from you with deft hands, noting how dry and cracked your lips are even though he’s instructed Seonghwa to give you water rations equal of that to the crew. His eye scans your body for any sign of what could be causing this, when he sees a bloody patch right beneath the rose emblem of the Royal Navy. He pauses in his tracks.

Does he really care if one of the Royal Navy lives or dies?

“But you cannot deny that there is a chance that he might be telling the truth.”

Hongjoong grunts at his indecisiveness. If you’re a Royal Navy officer, he can always kill you later. Focusing on the task at hand, he tugs the coat from your shoulder, revealing your black undershirt and an ugly gash on your upper arm. The skin around it is obviously swollen and thick, yellow pus is still oozing from the wound, but what is the most worrying are the tiny, red streaks he sees moving up from the wound.

It’s infection. He doesn’t even need San to tell him that. And from the distance the streaks have moved, it’s been infected the day you were tied up on board. A scowl tugs on his lips.

And you said nothing?

He hates that he admires your grit for one so young. Shaking the damp hair out of his eye, he raises a hand and lightly slaps the side of your face.

“Oi, officer, wake up.”

You groan a little, eyebrows furrowing, but by the slack muscles of your arms and legs, you’re as dead to the world as Yunho. Hongjoong curses under his breath and moves to the knots, undoing them with practiced ease. The ropes loosen and there’s a thump as you collapse to the deck in a heap. Hongjoong grabs you from under the shoulders.

“Get up, will you?” He mutters under his breath, supporting all your weight on your feet so he can drag you to the sickbay, but you let out a cry of agony and bury your face in the crook of his neck, much to his shock. He jumps at the contact and almost drops you, but catches you at the last moment, a longer, more vulgar curse leaving his lips when he catches sight of your ankle.

It’s swollen.

Hongjoong groans. Is he blind? Yunho’s never going to let him live this down if he finds out about this. How did he not notice?

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

He cracks his knuckles and in one smooth motion lifts you up in his arms. You’re surprisingly light, as if you haven’t been eating enough for a few weeks already. He should get Seonghwa to cook you a hot meal after you recover.

Then he almost pulls away the hand under your shoulders to slap himself in the face. What is he saying? After you recover, it’s back to the main mast for you. He still can’t trust you, even if he grudgingly admires that you’re as tough as his crew members despite being the smallest person on board.

Why did you have to pick his ship?

Shaking away his thoughts, he turns towards to sickbay, feet thudding on wood as he sprints across the deck. Your breathing is shaky and uneven against his throat, and he grunts as he stops in front of the wooden door next to his cabin.

He raises a booted foot to kick on the door as hard as he can.

“San!

[qqueenofhades]

Modern AU Heartrender Husbands gives me the vibes of like they'll watch eurovision bc Fedyor wanted to and Ivan only begrudgingly agreed but in the end it's him who's standing really close to the TV with a bottle of beer loudly criticising the jury vote

Anon, your Mind. As 100% ever, I am so very easy to enable. As before, this is set in Phantom!Verse, and serves as a sequel of sorts to this (and as a further prequel to PEL).

Brighton Beach, 2014

It’s their first spring in their new home – they arrived in America in August 2013 and got this place, fittingly, right around Orthodox Christmas in January 2014 – and that means many things to them. Their apartment is in a formerly rent-controlled brownstone tenement right off the boardwalk, but prior to their arrival, it was occupied for fifty years by an old bat from Krasnodar Krai who apparently never, ever, threw anything away. (Fedyor is too scared to ask if she actually died in this apartment and her mummified corpse is lurking at the bottom of all the junk.) That is why he and Ivan were able to afford it, at least, but now that the weather is warmer, they have been spending all day cleaning, hauling boxes of crap to the dumpster, and trying in vain to get the smell of pickled cabbage out of the kitchen. It looks exactly like your Great Aunt Masha’s house, the one that traumatized you as a child and has never left your nightmares since. Home sweet home.

The upside is that the location is great, the apartment is surprisingly spacious and lovely – a big bedroom, a bathroom with two sinks and a deep claw-footed tub, a living room with high windows that let in lots of light, original crown molding and hardwood floors – and if it was located in the really chic parts of Brooklyn and inhabited by a tech-startup hipster rather than a Russian émigré spinster with definite hoarding tendencies, it would rent for some astronomical monthly sum. Fedyor has a three-ring binder full of paint swatches, sketches, furniture samples, and other plans to give it a total overhaul (he’s thinking a nice pale green for the living room?) But the one thing that spring definitely means is Eurovision, and it is just the ticket to relax from their grueling schedule of throwing boxes of junk away and hoping they don’t stumble upon a withered hand in a glass jar. He likes America and he’s excited for their new life, for all that they had no choice but to leave Russia in a hurry, but Eurovision is Eurovision.

Actually watching it, of course, is easier said than done. For one thing, Fedyor can’t find a blasted station that is airing it, when he could have just switched on the TV and found it right away back home. For another, Ivan is deeply dubious of the whole endeavor, having watched five minutes of it once when he was eighteen and turning it off in disgust, never to return. Fedyor spends a lot of time wheedling him to give it another chance. “Come on, Vanya. It’s fun!”

“It is a lot of homosexuals gyrating in leather to very bad music,” Ivan snaps. “They look ridiculous. And sound even worse.”

Fedyor glances at them – the fact that they’re sitting on the couch, he’s on Ivan’s lap with his legs draped over Ivan’s thigh, and Ivan’s arms wrapped around his waist – and coughs. “I’m not sure how to break this to you, darling,” he says, “but you are also a homosexual.”

“Maybe, but you would never catch me dead up there.”

“Of course not.” Fedyor rolls his eyes. “You might actually have to smile.”

Ivan makes a scoffing noise. Then he notices the full-on puppy-dog face that Fedyor is now giving him, and says, “Oh no. Oh no, Fedya. Do not look at me like that.”

“Why not?” Fedyor shamelessly snuggles closer. “Is it working?”

The predictable outcome is that Ivan grudgingly agrees to watch it with him, though they’re on American time now and Eurovision Song Contest 2014, held in Copenhagen, Denmark, is six hours ahead of them. Ivan thinks that it’s stupid to sit down and watch a lot of gyrating homosexuals in the middle of the day, when there’s still so much work to do, and tries to demand that they just watch the recording later. Fedyor says this is nonsense, you simply cannot watch a recording of Eurovision, and after a lot of investigation, finds the online streaming channel on his laptop and hooks it up to the TV so they can watch it there. Then he prepares his popcorn, his alcoholic beverages, and his glitter glasses, corrals his recalcitrant husband, and readies himself to experience pure joy. No wonder Ivan doesn’t get it.

However, the effect is both swift and remarkable. By the end of the first semi-final, Ivan is put out about the fact that Russia came seventh in the popular vote but was knocked down to eleven by the jury (this is evidence of an anti-Russian conspiracy, according to him) and when only Moldova, a tiny no-name non-EU former Soviet state, deigns to award them the full twelve points, he is openly incredulous. “Moldova?! That is all we get?! MOLDOVA?!”

“Well,” Fedyor says delicately. “There is that little situation in Ukraine, so I’m afraid we are not that popular right now.”

“That is bullshit,” Ivan grouses. “This is a song contest. The Tolmachevy Sisters are not Vladimir Putin. I am sure they have worked very hard to be here.”

Fedyor glances at him and wisely decides not to say anything. He is likewise a little peeved when the Russian contestants get booed by the Danish audience, but Ivan looks like he’s about to leap through the screen and throttle every single one of them. He thrusts out a hand. “Give me a drink, Fedya. I need it to suffer this indignity.”

Fedyor cracks the lid off a cold one and hands it over – there is the Brighton Bazaar just a few blocks away, stocked with Russian goods, so they are spared the ordeal of drinking Yankee beer – and Ivan takes a long slug. He thinks they can skip watching the second semi-final two nights later, since Russia isn’t in it, but Fedyor puts it on anyway. They both like Austria and “Rise Like a Phoenix,” sung by the bearded drag queen Conchita Wurst (there have been a few dumb comments about her from the usual suspects), but Ivan hits a fist on the arm of the sofa. “She was not better than the Russian girls,” he says loyally. “I still think that they should be the ones to win.”

“Right, well,” Fedyor says. “I think the only ones less likely to win are the Brits, and they never win, so we might be waiting a while.”

The grand finale, on May tenth, is an inadvertently hysterical exercise. They get up early and put on the pregame show, like the Americans do with their bewildering fixation on the Super Bowl, and Ivan gets even more furious when the Tolmachevy Sisters are booed again. “Are they not supposed to love everyone at this glitter bacchanalia? So much for the Scandinavians being tolerant and accepting people! The song is nice! They are nice girls! What is wrong with them?!”

“Come over here and give me a cuddle, Vanya,” Fedyor suggests. “Otherwise you will blow a blood vessel long before the show starts.”

Ivan growls like an escaped tiger from the zoo, but consents to sit down next to Fedyor. They both drink copiously once the festivities get underway, singing along loudly (and not that melodiously) to the various entries, Fedyor’s arm draped around Ivan’s neck as he sits on his lap and critically judges the acts before the official results pop up. Once again, the only twelve-point awards Russia gets are from former Soviet countries (Azerbaijan and Belarus) and Ivan looks like he’s going to have a conniption before Fedyor kisses him and he gets distracted for the next three minutes. “This is disgraceful,” he mutters, when they break away. “Not you, Fedya. Just the horrible way they have clearly rigged this show against us.”

“You know,” Fedyor says. “That’s Eurovision. You declare war on your neighbors when they don’t give you twelve points. Now they have the EU, they’re not supposed to fight anymore, this is the only way they can get all those old rivalries out. Just be glad that Australia isn’t in this year. You might have really blown a gasket.”

“Australia?!” Ivan shifts Fedyor to a more comfortable position on his lap and grabs for his third bottle of beer. “AUSTRALIA IS NOT IN EUROPE! It is not even anywhere NEAR Europe! WHY DOES AUSTRALIA GET TO BE IN EUROVISION!?!”

Fedyor laughs out loud. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Ivan says. “But this is still the stupidest thing I have ever seen.”

“Shh.” Fedyor nuzzles him. “Just give in, Vanya. Just give in.”

Ivan consents to turn his grumbling down to a simmer, and is somewhat mollified that Russia comes in sixth overall, which is better than even Fedyor thought they were going to do. Austria takes the champion’s crown, they can both agree that Conchita Wurst deserves it, and get up and dance around their still-junk-cluttered living room as she gives her bravissima performance. A few things have been thrown during the judging, but they can’t add much to the existing mess, and in Brighton Beach, “damage caused to the apartment because Russia got shafted during Eurovision finals” might actually be a legitimate excuse. As he leans against Ivan’s chest and grins into his neck, Fedyor has to admit that this place may just feel like home yet.

[lalaith217]

This is something a little different from what I usually post, but 2x13 is one of my favorite episodes and I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this one. It's a sort of "She thinks, he thinks"-type of thing and it's pretty long, but I hope you enjoy.

Waking up

When Chloe wakes up, she feels his presence in the room before she even opens her eyes. It doesn't surprise her that he's here though, she's actually been waiting for him for a couple of hours now, wondering when he'd show up. The nurses told her that there had been "complications" and, ever the realist, she had known they had been downplaying the severity of her situation. She had seen what the professor's poison had done to the first victim and as soon as her nose had started bleeding, fear had overcome her. But now, she felt okay, still a little weak, but fine. The nap she had just woken up from had helped. And him sitting at her bedside helps too.

"Well. Look who's back. You didn't die after all. That makes one of us."

She opens her eyes and a smile plays on her lips. He's making even less sense than usual, but she doesn't really care right now. She is happy he's here, at her side, and that whatever he did to save her has worked. Does she really need to know what it was? There is time for that later, he'll probably tell her in excruciating detail anyway. And then, they'll talk about what she really wants to talk about right now. Them.

"I heard you saved me."

She puts her hand on his hands, both of them by her side as if he had been praying (which is ridiculous, she knows). She isn't sure, but, for a moment, she thinks he wants to pull back, looking down at both their hands. But he doesn't and his skin feels warm and for a brief moment, her mind flashes back to their dinner in his penthouse. She had taken his hand then, too, and he had looked at her almost the same way: a mix of surprise, disbelief and, most of all, warmth. This time however, a fourth feeling creeps in his eyes that she can't quite place. It is not a good feeling however.

"Well... much as I'd like to take all the credit, this one was a... a team effort."

She is a little surprised he doesn't want all the glory for this one, but a part of her tells her that this one hit way too close to home for him to be making jokes. She remembers his face when her nosebleed wouldn't stop and when she showed him the puncture mark that the professor's needle had left. He hadn't made any jokes then and when Lucifer stopped making comments and jokes, things were as serious as they got.

"You look heaven sent."

The last time he talked to her before things got worse, he looked more worried than she had ever seen him. He put up a front, fighting with Dan over bringing her to the hospital (which she explicitly asked him not to do), but she knew her partner. And she knew things were getting worse by the minute. When she had collapsed at that party, she had known that maybe her reluctance to go the hospital was not the best way of dealing with things. But when she saw Lucifer all worried in that hospital room, she knew things were going seriously wrong.

Still, she refused to give up and was more worried about what Trixie would think. As Lucifer always told the truth, she asked him if her being strapped to this hospital bed, tubes going in and coming out of her, would scare Trixie. He answered in his typical Lucifer fashion, making a quip, she thought, but they way he looked at her, she somehow knew he was not making a joke. Her heart skipped a beat, but the moment passed and Lucifer left. She didn't see him again, even when she was seizing, and she missed him. If things were as bad as they seemed, why wasn't he by her side? But she knew he was doing everything in his power to save her. And he had.

It had taken her a while to come to terms with her feelings for him. A few weeks, hell, even a few days ago, she had been sure that they were not going to work. They were just too different, she had thought, well, she still believes that they are very different people. But when he had sent her away and saved those college kids, she had realized that, despite that all being true, despite everything, the thought of him hurt, the thought of him not being around annoying her every day, had scared her more than she had have ever thought.

And then he had just walked down the steps as if nothing had happened, a smug smile on his handsome face, and she couldn't believe he didn't even have a scratch. But more importantly she had realized that she couldn't fight what she was feeling for him anymore. Nor did she want to. On instinct, she had hugged him tight, and, with hesitation, he had hugged her back. She suspected that Lucifer didn't have much experience with physical contact that wasn't sexual, so she didn't take his hesitation personally. How could she when the look in his eyes, full of wonder and adoration, told her everything that she needed to know in this moment. They were real, that's what she knew and damn, she wouldn't let stupid poison come between them.

"You know, this whole poisoning thing has just... really put a pause on everything that's been going on with you and I, so... should we just pick up where we left off?"

The words came out of her mouth before she could actually really think them through. She fears for a moment they might be too straightforward and he might get overwhelmed, but she is still holding his hand, his thumb drawing lazy circles on her skin and he is still looking at her with those deep brown eyes, and she just doesn't feel like holding back anymore. She has been fighting her feelings for quite some time now and she doesn't want to do it anymore.

"I think, right now, you just need to focus on feeling better, Detective."

He has let go of her hand and moves to stand up. She is surprised he is leaving right now, but she must look worse than she thought. And maybe he just needs to process. And as he said, he just wants her to get better and she can't really sleep while he's here, can she? Although... No, they have all the time in the world once she feels better. They'll figure everything out. Together.

"Would you have someone bring Trixie in?"

"Yes. Yes, of course."

He moves away from her now and she feels that so much is left unsaid. This is clearly not the time though, at least for him. But she needs to tell him, one more time, in her way, that she wants this, that she wants him. Ever since they kissed on the beach she has been struggling to tell him, in her own dorky way, how she wants this, how she wants him.

"And we'll talk. We'll talk later, yeah?"

He doesn't answer. His mouth opens, but words don't come out. She wonders why he's not really responding to her question, but maybe he just needs time to process. She still needs time to process and she is much, much better with the "touchy-feely stuff" than him. Not that that is any kind of challenge. She remembers, how he reacted the first time she told him she could be vulnerable around him. What had been intended as a way of telling him how she felt, had resulted in him acting even stranger than usual, touching her back and asking all kinds of strange questions.

She looks after him when he leaves her hospital room. She is smiling and for the first time in a while she feels better. They'll talk and figure this out, she knows they will. No more denial, no more interruptions.

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

When she finally opens her eyes, his heart does a somersault. Only a few hours ago he didn't even know if she would make it and now she is looking at him with those big grey-blue eyes of hers as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn't been close to... He can't even think about it anymore. Can't think about what losing her would mean.

"Well. Look who's back. You didn't die after all. That makes one of us."

Watching her sleep, he had had time to think about what he had done. For her. Ever since he had left hell, he had been sure of one thing: he wouldn't go back to that place, not in a million years. And yet he had gone back. For her. And he would do it again. And again. But she would never know, could never know.

"I heard you saved me."

She has put her hand on both of his and, for a moment, he thinks about pulling away from her. It feels wrong for her to be touching him like this, when he knows everything she is feeling for him is a lie, a manipulation. But her hand on his feels soft and the way she looks at him now makes him feel all sorts of things. Things that he has never felt before. Things that made him go to hell for her. Literally.

"Well... much as I'd like to take all the credit, this one was a... a team effort."

Always the truth, that was what he tried to live by. Without Amenadiel, Linda, Maze and most of all his mom, he wouldn't have made it out of that place. The memory of Uriel haunts him, the way he plunged the knife into his gut, again and again. The guilt of killing his own brother kept him in his own personal hell. Only when his mom had come and reminded him of why he was down there, her, he had come to his senses.

"Chloe."

Hearing her name down there had snapped him out of his daze. The memory of her lying in that hospital bed, dying of some poison, and him being the only one who could save her, had brought him back to reality. He had to save her, his partner, his detective. There was nothing he wouldn't do to save her life.

When he had gone to her house to confront her about... nevermind... to talk to her, and saw her nose-bleed, he was terrified. They had seen what the poison had done to the student at Malibu State and the professor had just killed himself, with the recipe for the antidote in his head of course. Driving her to the next hospital was his first instinct, but when she refused to go and reminded him of how the hospital hadn't helped any of the other victims, he turned around and promised to do things her way. Sometimes she was as stubborn as she accused him of being and the annoying part was that she was usually right.

This time however, not even her refusal to give in could stop the effects of the poison on her. He was mildly surprised when she held onto his arm going down the stairs at that rich douchebag's party, usually refusing any assistance, even in high heels, but then she collapsed at the bottom of the stairs. His heart sank remembering her unresponsive in his arms, fragile, vulnerable. This could not be happening to her, not now, not ever. He could not lose her like this, not after she had kissed him like that at the beach, not after she made him feel... everything he felt.

"You know, this whole poisoning thing has just... really put a pause on everything that's been going on with you and I, so... should we just pick up where we left off?"

He hasn't even realized that his thumb has been drawing lazy circles on her skin, warm against his. Lost in thought the detective's suggestion brings him back to here and now, back to reality. A reality in which his father has put the detective into his path. A reality in which all that he has been feeling for her, all that she has been feeling for him, is a manipulation, a cruel trick his father has played on them.

"I think, right now, you just need to focus on feeling better, Detective."

He lets go of her hand and stands up, wanting to break the connection that pulls him closer to her. She didn't have a choice. She doesn't have a choice. Her feelings are not real, he reminds himself, and neither are they. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt and it doesn't mean he would rather stay here, with her, by her side, until she felt better. With her eyes always looking at her the way she does now, full of... emotions. Emotions that aren't real, but still emotions that she feels. And so does he.

"Would you have someone bring Trixie in?"

"Yes. Yes, of course."

Right, the urchin. Probably worried about her mother almost as much as he was. A visit from her will distract her. He has almost reached the door of her hospital room now. He'll be finally able to breathe again without her looking at him with those eyes. He will be able to remember that all of this is nothing but a bloody manipulation and not real.

"And we'll talk. We'll talk later, yeah?"

His heart does that stupid thing again when it skips a beat. She sounds so sincere and hopeful, he almost wants to turn around and kiss her senseless. He wants to tell her what that moment at Pasadena State meant to him, when she hugged him, just like that. When he could see in her eyes that she felt the same way as him. When he felt, for a few blissful hours, that they could make this work. That he... that they could be happy. He had felt invincible.

But he doesn't turn around and he doesn't tell her. He leaves her room without looking back. He has to leave, get out of here now, and he doesn't just mean out of this hospital room. How can he stay around her, when every time she looks at him, he feels like this. Feels the betrayal and the pain and... that other feeling he now pushes down, way down, as he walks along the hospital hallway, straight to the exit.

[razieltwelve]

The Sound of Thunder (Spoilers)

This post contains spoilers for the future direction of The Sound of Thunder. If you do not want to read spoilers, stop here.

The Sound of Thunder is basically inspired by Silence of the Lambs with Lightning playing the role of Hannibal Lecter and Fang stepping into the shoes of Agent Clarice Starling. 

The story opens with Fang be sent to interview Lightning in a secure facility. Amodar wants to get her insight into a case since someone has begun to commit murders that are eerily similar to those committed by Lightning. The critical difference is that while Lightning killed sister, she often focused her ire on the younger sister whereas the present murders seem to show greater anger toward the older sister.

Lightning’s sister, Serah, is currently in protective custody, her whereabouts unknown.

After a brief conversation, Lightning taunts Fang but takes an interests in her, revealing the differences between her murders and the present murders.

That’s where the first chapter finishes.

The basic idea of the story is fairly simple. Fang is going to try to put together the clues to identify the murderer while bodies continue to pile up. 

Things get increasingly tense when Yuna and Rikku are abducted. Yuna’s father is a powerful politician, and he demands that something be done. What disturbs Amodar and Fang is that the two aren’t actually sisters. However, when asked about this, Lightning tells Fang that it isn’t necessarily the blood relationship that matters, so much as the bond between the two. After all, she didn’t just target any old pair of sisters. Lightning always went after the sisters that were the closest.

It is during this time that Serah Farron apparently disappears from police custody. After consulting with the witness protection program, Fang discovers that the murders have occurred in areas not far from Serah. She believes that Lightning’s ‘admirer’ is trying to finish what Lightning started by killing Serah.

Lightning just laughs when she’s told this, telling Fang that her ‘admirer’ would never be so crass as to take what’s hers, not if they know what’s good for them. Fang points out that Lightning is stuck behind bars, but Lightning merely smiles and tells Fang that she’ll be out soon enough.

Fang begins to believe that Lightning knows exactly who the killer is. This belief is further bolstered when forensic analysis shows that the weapon and style used to kill the latest victims is archetypical of the veterans from Lightning’s old unit in the military. Many of them simply vanished off the face of the earth after the war, and still others were lost in the conflict but never confirmed dead.

With the days passing and Braska (Yuna’s father) growing more desperate, he decides to use his political clout to force a meeting with Lightning. Lightning was a former soldier, someone who loved the outdoors and a good bit of exercise. These days, she’s cooped up in one of the most secure cells in the world.

His offer is simple. If she can give information that allows them to save his daughter and Rikku, he will have her transferred to a new cell on a deserted island. She will still be confined, and the island itself is so isolated that escape would be meaningless, but she will get more time outdoors, and a cell that allows her to do some indoor exercise.

Amodar urges Braska to reconsider, but Braska is adamant. It is at this point that Fang’s sister, Vanille, disappears. Fang is horrified, especially when a cryptic message left at the scene suggests that the one responsible is indeed the killer. She seeks out Lightning’s advice, only to find that Lightning has already been transferred as is being held in another secure location.

Dr Jihl Nabaat tells Fang that she should hurry. As Lightning’s former warden, she protested the move, but was overruled. She doesn’t think that Lightning’s new minders will be able to hold her. They don’t know what they’re dealing with.

Fang hurries to the location where Lightning is being held.

Meanwhile, Lightning is being wonderfully civil. She has passed on information to Amodar indicating that the killer is a former colleague, someone who grew up in a broken home, someone who grew to blame someone in his life that he viewed as something between a sister and a lover for his ills. During their time on the front, they came to understand one another and she learned that he planned to enact his own bloody vengeance on the world.

His name? Caius Ballad.

During a seemingly uneventful dinner, Lightning begins her escape. Faking a seizure, she lures the inexperienced guards close enough for her to kill them and take the keys. She then takes their weapons and sounds the alarm. As the backup team rushes to her ‘cell’, Lightning begins to systematically hunt them down, wiping out the entire team. She does this by wounding some of the members to lure out the others and erode team discipline while using the bodies of the guards she killed as props to draw attention at critical moments.

Rather than attempt to escape through the front door, Lightning instead takes advantage of the building’s geography to escape first to the roof and then over to a nearby building where she kills someone else, takes their clothes, and disguises herself using a hat to hide her hair. She even changes her gait and simply walks out of the building as reinforcements rush into the original building.

Fang arrives on the scene shortly after, and Lightning actually stays to watch her. When Fang somehow manages to trace Lightning’s steps via intuition and cunning, Lightning ambushes her. Rather than killing her, Lightning knocks her unconscious, but not before leaving her with a few clues.

When Fang regains consciousness, she tells Amodar what she has learned, and she finds out that Caius Ballad isn’t really the one responsible. Instead, when they track him down, they find out that he’s been dead for years. In fact, it looks a lot like Lightning killed him herself. The isolated cabin he was in was also rigged with a trap that killed most of the team sent to apprehend him.

Following Lightning’s tip to investigate the ‘chains of the past’, Fang delves into Lightning’s history. She discovers evidence that after Lightning’s parents died, she and Serah became abnormally close. At this time, they were badly let down by the system. They lost their house. They had to resort to begging to survive, and Lightning ended up joining a gang to make ends meet. It was during this period that Lightning’s kills were believed to have begun. This relationship only deepened until Serah met Snow Villiers. This enraged Lightning who saw it as a betrayal.

Lightning went to war only to return and find that Serah and Snow were going to get married. It was around that time that Lightning’s killings began to ramp up. Fang believes that Lightning saw Serah marrying Snow as the last piece of her family abandoning her and leaving her all alone. It was notable that in the car accident in which Lightning’s parents died, Lightning never lost consciousness whereas Serah did. Lightning spent three days in that ravine trapped next to the dead bodies of her parents trying to get out of the wreck and save her sister. The other driver would escape charges due to political connections but would later be killed during a robbery gone wrong.

Snow would later be killed in a car accident, but the more Fang investigated the matter, the more certain she grew that it wasn’t an accident at all. That was when Lightning’s killings took on an even more gruesome style, culminating in the hideously awful murder scene where Lightning forgot to cover her tracks. Some of her hair was found on the scene, along with fingerprints. This was how Lightning was caught.

But something about the old case files bothers her. Looking more closely at the wounds on that last, pivotal set of murders, Fang notices that the older sister was actually harmed more than the younger one - something closer to the current murders. Moreover, the knife work isn’t quite as expert as in Lightning’s older murders.

She doesn’t know quite what to make of it, but as she delves into the archives containing Lightning’s old records, she finds a note about a location very dear to Lightning: an old beach house in Bodhum. It was never hers, but her family used to walk past it every day. Fang has a hunch, and she follows it to the beach house.

There, she discovers that although it should be abandoned, there are signs that it has been lived in recently. Preparing herself, she makes her way inside. She finds Yuna and Rikku huddled together in a dark pit. She tries to call it in, but there is a jamming device in place. She is about to leave and call for reinforcements when she spots a familiar bit of clothing nearby. It belongs to Vanille.

Fang can’t bear to leave. She presses onward and finds Vanille unconscious and strapped to a chair. However, before she can leave, she is ambushed and knocked unconscious herself. When she wakes up, she finds herself staring into the face of Serah Farron.

Suddenly, it all clicks in Fang’s mind.

Lightning was never the sole killer. She and Serah had been killing people together, right from the start, most likely beginning with the driver who crashed into their car and killed their parents. The reason they’ve been killing sisters is because they don’t very highly of them. They see them as not being close enough, of not caring about each other the way Serah and Lightning do. In fact, Fang remembers that as close as the murdered sisters generally were, there were always rumours of friction and occasional arguments - imperfections in Lightning and Serah’s eyes. After all, alone and with none one else to turn to, Lightning and Serah always had each other. How could they respect people who couldn’t even manage that?

When Fang tells Serah this, the other woman is impressed.

Fang also explains her suspicions about what happened later. Snow’s accident wasn’t an accident. Lightning sabotaged his car. Serah says that is exactly what happened, and she framed Lightning for the last murder to get her arrested and killed. However, Lightning surrendered and avoided being killed, and she was then put out of Serah’s reach for revenge since she genuinely loved Snow.

Her plan was to then commit more murders knowing that Lightning would be drawn out. This succeeded, and she went after Vanille to get to Fang since she thought Lightning found Fang intriguing, and Lightning hates it when people mess with her stuff.

Sure enough, Serah is still talking when Lightning arrives.

The two sister square off. In the midst of their battle, Fang manages to free herself and Vanille, and they run for it, saving Yuna and Rikku along the way. The beach house is destroyed in an explosion when Serah, who starts losing, detonates a trap she’d set beforehand.

This spells the end of the two sisters.

Or so Fang thought.

A few months later, having received a commendation for her efforts, Fang gets a letter. It’s from Lightning. She thanks Fang for a most interesting adventure, especially the chance to reunite with her sister. Fang doesn’t have to worry. Lightning has other scores to settle and other people to kill, and she wants to see how far Fang can go.

A few days later another letter arrives.

It’s from Serah. In her words, she tells Fang that the world failed her and Lightning. They spent years afraid, wondering what new horror the next day would bring in. She talks about how often Lightning came back home bruised and beaten from her work with the gang, and how often Serah had to steal and lie to get essentials. She tells Fang that she and Lightning are going to settle their score one day. She hasn’t forgiven Lightning for Snow, and she probably never will, but she has other people to go after first.

A few days later, two sets of murders begin. They’re no longer targeting sisters, but Fang knows who is responsible. She joins the special team Amodar is putting together to catch the two sisters.

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

So, yeah, there is an unedited stream of consciousness of the ideas I had regarding where the story would go. Obviously, it’s very rough, but this was the ‘skeleton’ of what I thought might happen. Had I written it in full, I would have fleshed it out and tinkered with it a lot.

[hexalene]

What's your wildest cruise ship story?

Oh shit I meant to post this sooner whoops

Uh

I have less “ONE BIG THING” stories and more of like, a series of surreal Events that happened to me over the course of the years and years I went on cruises (my family could go on cruises for free, so we abused the shit out of that for reunions and vacations for a long time)

So here’s a few of those, and I SWEAR TO GOD they’re real, and I might have photos buried somewhere to prove some of them, but idk, that’s like effort.

-I loved wandering around ships super super early in the morning. Like, crack of dawn early. I’d usually go hang out on one of the open floor restaurant areas around the middle of the ship, which had built in window seats you could curl up in. Pillows n shit too. Super comfy. I’d draw and listen to music, ect. One morning, I looked up and saw the Black fucking Pearl from Pirates of the Caribbean sailing by. Did not believe my eyes. It and four other ships, two of which were for non-pirate movies, were being sailed into a bay on the island we were headed to. I did manage to get a distant shot of it when I got on land.

-In 2006 (date relevant) I met two men in two different families, who were not related and had never met, named Tony Stark. As this was before the movie came out, I was left tragically alone with no one to be awed at this strange coincidence with me. One of them was even a dark haired man with a nice goatee.

(The other was a cute chubby grandpa type)

-Given the opportunity to demonstrate how corporations rig the system against the consumer, my father brought me down to the casino level and sat down across from a very fancy claw machine that dispensed iPads and other expensive tech prizes. He told me, “some people will win, and I’ll tell you when they will.”

I was like “okay dad sure” but we sat there for HOURS, and dad would say “okay, this guy will win if he goes for this prize” or “this guy will lose” and finally, “that woman will win an iPad.” Of course, most were losers, but he was DEAD ON every time someone would win. After a while he explained that the machine would only dispense prizes after collecting the money to pay for two more of whatever was won. He’d just sat there and done the math on the people playing the game and when it added up, he’d wait to see what they went for and let me know if they won. It had absolutely nothing to do with skill.

To make his point, he waited, counting out loud the money being put in, before standing up and slapping the button randomly on one of the lower rank prizes. He won an otter box phone case and told me that no one will ever give you the chance to win out at a loss to themselves, so don’t make a bet unless you’ve rigged the game to win. I was 14.

-uhhh what else

-The dance troupe arranged to do shows suffered a tragic undisclosed accident, so the short term bullshit to entertain people in the theatre was an honest to god passenger led talent show. Surreal on its own, but one of the passengers was a contortionist, and ran off to get their suitcase.

Now, they did a lot of fun bendy stuff, very weird, very cool, but they asked for volunteers at one point. I, my sister, our cousin, and two other kids were asked to come on stage. I was the oldest, maybe 12/13ish, my sister and cousin were 9, and the other two kids were between 6-9.

This MADMAN, without straining any of us to bend in any weird or uncomfortable way, managed to fit all five of us into his empty suitcase. I was in the damn thing and I have no idea how he managed it. He then zipped us all up inside and walked around the stage a bit. And it was fine, like not uncomfortable or hard to breath or anything!

I remember getting out of the suitcase clearest of all. We’d all been fit inside so snugly, in this order:

Me, stranger kid 1, cousin, sister, and stranger kid 2. To get us out, he lay the case flat and lifted my sister up. Somehow this like??? Was like those monkey in a barrel toys, we all just neatly unfolded with her, no tripping or falling or anything. That feeling, where one moment I’m staring at my cousins’ feet and some other kid’s elbow, and then I see the dude lift my sister and then all of us just RISE WITH IT and unfold like a flower blooming I have no idea if this makes any sense at all but it felt magical.

- Something bad happened back home, but we didn’t know what. My dad had a business meeting but mom wanted to see the beach. We got off the ship, and like, HARDCORE struggled to find a way to get to a beach, any beach. We were in....Mexico, somewhere in the neighborhood of Chichén Itzá, maybe an island nearby I think? There were some massive ruins somewhere, I remember that much.

While mom hunted down a beach, my siblings and I sat under a giant box fan, near a TV. Something was happening, the employees were changing the channel, trying to find the clearest signal to the American news. I remember looking over at the grainy footage being interrupted by commercials and other signals and piecing together through the static and the employee trying to translate that back home, the 2008 financial crash was happening and that mom’s insistence that we find a beach and have fun was because that business meeting dad had stayed behind to deal with was him trying to make sure we’d still have a house to live in when we got back to the states, and she didn’t know if this would be the last truly carefree time we had before we went home to face the music.

-However, mom’s eternal struggles to find a beach didn’t begin in 2008. The previous trip we’d taken had another Beach Adventure.

That time, it was also just mom and the siblings. I don’t remember why dad was staying behind, maybe a poker tournament or something?

We disembarked and the struggle began. Nothing was in English, other than the scant few signs the cruise ship put out to guide passengers off the docks. However, THIS was not a problem, as I was about as fluent in Spanish as a third grader restricted to the present tense, and this worked well enough to get us around.

There was a massive bus to a beach, just PACKED to the gills with Americans. As we waited in line, a nondescript man came up to us, and said, “that bus will go to a very crowded beach with many other passengers of other ships. I know a better beach, and cheap! I’ll charge only half of what that bus will charge you and my beach is much much nicer!”

You might be thinking that common sense would tell us not to get in a random unmarked car with an un-uniformed man offering an amazing half off deal to a perfect isolated beach in broken English on a largely rural island, wouldn’t you? You’d be wrong.

My mother is a sweet devout catholic lady with a hidden core of raw chaos. Her idea of a nice day out in the snow with her tiny children was to strap us in the back, drive to the massive Schnuck’s parking lot, gun it up to 90mph, and hydroplane/drift like a fucking drag racer across the ice, laughing. Common sense does not exist in any normal capacity in this woman.

We spent an incredibly tense, silent, 45 minutes driving into the wilderness packed into a tiny car with no AC, sweating with heat and nerves as he drove us out in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly the driver pulls over. There is literally nothing but trees and cliffs for miles and miles. Mom is clutching my hand, my baby brother, and her knitting needles. The driver runs quickly to the center of the road, leans over, and picks up a huge tortoise that had frozen up when his car approached. He carried it over to the grass, and pat it goodbye.

Before he comes back Mom turns and looks at me and says, “a serial killer probably wouldn’t save a turtle, I think we’ll be okay.”

[jadoue1999]

The X-Men and the member they lost - Chapter 5

Summary: Life in Westview was perfect, but a certain visitor would soon change all that.

Previous parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, 

Chapter 5: The circus

Life in Westview was very pleasant. Charles had only recently joined the Spectacular World of Rapturous Diversions and it quickly became his home. He had been accepted into the circus as the psychic. He had an extravagant room full of cushions for visitors to sit on and a table adorned with a crystal ball. The orb truly wasn’t necessary, it was all for show; he usually sensed whatever he had to no matter the accessory in front of him. He had come alone and wasn’t sure of the reception he would get. He didn’t remember much of who he was before he came to Westview. He had flashes once in a while of a grand mansion, a school perhaps? His lack of backstory didn’t bother him much. When one’s job was to see into people’s future and all sort, it was expected to not remember all of one’s past. Some people were bothered by his ability to read them like an open book, but he thankfully had made some friends.

There was a young man who insisted on people calling him Nightcrawler. He was wonderfully skilled in the art of disappearing. He had seen his act many times and never could figure out how he achieved it. The teen had been born with a peculiar skin condition; he had been shunned by everyone he had met until he had joined the circus. Charles had taken him under his wing, making sure he felt welcomed and supported.

Then there was Mystique. They had grown close very quickly. They had felt like they had known each other for a long time, their camaraderie was similar to one of siblings. He had stumbled upon her act by a lucky coincidence. He had been entranced by her many quick changes and how she could switch between outfits, accessories, and hair in mere seconds and flawlessly every time. He had knocked on her dressing room after her performance and they had talked for hours. They had been close friends since.

Then, there was Erik. He had been looking around the circus through the recently added acts and had found this ‘Magneto’ sign very intriguing. It led to a small stage where the man had various metal objects thrown at him. Some seemed very sharp, but they all fell a little before they reached him. His apparent control over the metal had earned him the nickname ‘man of steel’. Halfway through the performance, they had locked eyes. Strangely enough, it felt familiar? His act had ended quickly after that and the man walked up to Charles, asking him if they knew each other. As unexpected as the question was, he too felt a connection. Like they had gone through a thousand hardships together and had lived through high and lows for what seemed an entire lifetime. They had conversed the night away, talking about the circus and why they had come to Westview of all places. While Charles himself was simply looking for a place with people similar to him, Erik had a different answer. He had been looking for someone but hadn’t been able to remember who. He was certain that it was someone very close to him, someone he had known for awhile, but hadn’t known about his connection with them until recently. The psychic had tried to see whoever it could be, but all he could catch was a silver blur too quick to follow.

They were now playing a game of chess, a sort of bonding time between the two. The crystal ball was moved from its usual spot to make place for the board.

“So,” started Erik, breaking the silence after so long, “how did you end up in a wheelchair? You’re free to ignore the question if it’s a sensitive subject, of course.”

He frowned at the man’s question, how had he ended up in this situation? He closed his eyes in concentration, trying to activate his memory. He didn’t see much, there was an intense feeling of rage that wasn’t his own and he had blindly run towards it. Then, pain had suddenly coursed through his spine. The next thing he saw was that he had fallen and couldn’t feel anything in his legs. “I- I had a bad fall on a beach... I think.”

The man nodded and moved a piece. “I’m sorry.”

Charles tilted his head in confusion, “why do you say that? It’s not your fault, you weren’t there.”

‘Was he? No, he couldn’t have, they just met.’

Erik shrugged his shoulder, lost in thoughts, “I’m not sure... I just feel like I need to apologize.” He shook his head and concentrated back to the game. The psychic could practically see his mind turning and trying to figure out his next move. One of his hand hovered over the bishop piece in hesitation. Suddenly the piece was knocked over without being touched. The men shared a slightly panicked, but more confused look.

“Did that just happen?” Asked Erik.

Charles took the piece in his hand and examined it, it didn’t look like it was rigged or anything. How could it have moved? He handed the piece back to the man, “try that again.”

Erik took the bishop with caution and gently put it on the table. He was about to bring his hand forward when commotion outside was heard. There was a sound of a door closing and a truck driving away as someone screamed to whoever was leaving.

“You get back here! I need you!”

The brown-haired man got up and looked out the tent for a few seconds before looking back at Charles. “We’ve got runaways, I guess I’ll have to cover their act.” He quickly said goodbye with a nod and exited the tent.

Charles was now left alone with his thoughts and confusion. He took the chess piece in his hand and examined it once more. It didn’t make any sense; it shouldn’t have moved by itself. He shook his head with a sigh, it was probably nothing. A little metal game piece couldn’t move by itself, the very notion of this was ridiculous. He wheeled himself over to where the crystal ball had been moved for their game. He gently put it back on the table. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths to ground himself.

The sound of the curtain of his tent being opened pulled him out of his thoughts. A woman walked in, she seemed to be in her thirties, she had green eyes and red hair. He greeted her and let her look around the room. There was a nagging feeling in his brain, telling him to get away from her, but he couldn’t understand why. She was simply visiting the circus on her day off, how much of a danger could she be? They exchanged pleasantries before he told her to take a seat. He concentrated on the woman like he would any other client.

Though, on the contrary to most people for whom he’d see various events and feelings, he could only feel overwhelming grief and pain. He hummed as he tried to make heads and tails of what he was seeing. There was a bomb going off, crushing a building and children hiding under a bed, frightened out of their minds. There was soldiers and dirty cells and blinding pain as unseen power unlocked itself. Then, he saw the woman growing more vengeful as time went on. There were killer robots and a blonde man, he instinctively knew he was her brother. The woman was fighting against the robots now. Suddenly pain ripped through her chest and she realized her brother was dead. A stray thought from the man echoed through her mind, his last thought.

‘I love you, Wanda’

Then everything was silent, and the woman felt awfully empty and alone. Charles sighed as her past was unveiled before him. “I see pain, a lot of pain,” he sighed. “Oh, I’m sorry Wanda, so much loss.” He felt the woman stiffen at his words, but he was already gone in another vision.

There was a team of heroes training her, she tried to work through her pain, but it kept gnawing her. Then there was a mistake, a misdirection. Lagos. Everything went wrong, an unfair law was written. Named after her country, staining it forever. Smearing it in blood and regrets. The team that trained her went against each other, the android she liked was on the opposite side. She didn’t want to hurt him. Her side lost, and now she had to run away. She changed her life, changed her hair; the man visited her. They grew close, they wanted to get away, together. But a threat made them put their plans aside. They met with warriors; the robot needed to have a stone taken out so he could survive. They didn’t have enough time. A purple giant was going to get them. She had to kill her love to save the universe. She didn’t want to, but she had to.

‘It shouldn’t be you, but it is’.

The deed was done. She had done it, she pushed down her growing grief as she told the monster about his defeat. But it wasn’t enough, time was wound back, and the android was there once again. The stone was ripped from his head and he fell limply to the ground. ”I see a great battle, one that was unfortunately lost.” She was still holding on to his corpse when it happened. Charles felt her turn to dust, everything was cold, but she wasn’t afraid. At least, she wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. She’d join her family and lover. “But then everything was made right,” he frowned, “but not for you. You were still alone.” She came back, expecting to be greeted with a corpse again but nothing was around her. “I see... a breaking point, and great suffering.” No one came to her; everyone was rejoicing. All of her grief came crashing back, she had truly lost everyone.

She had to find his body, he had to have a funeral, they deserved it. She had every right, but they still refused her. She went to him; he was being ripped apart for profit. She let her magic explore his head, where the stone had been. She couldn’t feel him, he was gone. She was still alone. She drove to a town, the promise of a future still in the air. But nothing was there, her entire life had been ripped apart without her even having a say in the matter. It wasn’t fair. Life kept taking everything, why couldn’t she be happy? Her magic ripped through her and engulfed the town. Her husband was back, she was home. Everything was alright. Charles couldn’t help but feel for the woman. “Oh Wanda... what have you done?”

He couldn’t understand what he was seeing, he had never heard of any of the events he had witnessed. A sudden pulse of red flashed through his mind and Charles gasped. He remembered everything. Peter’s disappearance, the broadcast, travelling between dimensions, the base, the barrier expanding; he could recall everything. But that didn’t make sense, Wanda’s spell wouldn’t allow it. Wanda was in charge, she was-

She was right in front of him.

Panic surged through him, she was unpredictable, what would she do to him? ‘No, this is like any other mutant that comes at the school. Make her understand that she can trust you.’

He calmed himself down as he extended a hand towards her. “Wanda Maximoff! What an honor to meet you!” She backed off, but he stood his ground. While she seemed in control of everyone, it was a very real possibility that she didn’t realize that they were hurting. Moreover, it was probable that her pain and grief blinded her to the truth. Perhaps she truly thought Peter was her real brother, back from the dead. He had to make sure she could see the situation for what it was. “We have a slight misunderstanding here, your brother, Pietro as you call him, he’s not your brother, not really.” The telepath paused as he tried to take in her reaction, but Wanda was unreadable. He understood her reaction, in a way. Hearing about the multiverse had to be unsettling. Plus, realizing that she let a stranger into her house must be unnerving. Hopefully, she hadn’t hurt him. Perhaps she would even give him back now that she knew the truth. “You see, a team composed of myself and a couple of others, including his father, are here to bring him back.” The woman was still as stoic as ever. She showed no sign of comprehension, perhaps she needed some sort of explanation or proof? Charles obliged. “We crossed universes to get here, it took weeks to find the right calculations. Thanks to your broadcast, we had a good grounding point. The military base kept us updated about Peter. We were brought in as you expanded the Hex, even our member with teleportation powers couldn’t escape. I’m certain it wasn’t your intention to trap us, or Peter, but you have to let us go. We’re not from your universe, we don’t belong here, we- “

“No,” Wanda’s voiced echoed. That caught him off guard. He had met many mutants in his life, but they were generally stable enough to understand right from wrong. “This is my home, I have my husband, my children and my brother. I will not let you take them away.” The professor didn’t like the way she emphasized Peter. His instinct told him that she had already known that he wasn’t truly her Pietro. But that possibility made way for a terrifying truth; she simply didn’t care that he wasn’t the real one and was determined to keep him at her side. However, he wouldn’t allow that, they had traveled all this way, they would not leave empty handed.

“Ms. Maximoff, you have to come to reason, you cannot keep up this lie forever.” Charles enunciated, taking on his authority voice. “What you’re doing is wrong, putting an entire town under mind control-“

“Is better than putting the entire Earth under it,” interrupted Wanda.

So, she truly was aware of her doing. And she didn’t care about the consequences, that was very bad. He focused on her mind, perhaps there was something he could find there that would be able to make her realize how wrong she was. He started making out the outline of what seemed to be a necklace. But, before he could look any further, he was casted out from her mind and the red energy was back. Charles felt slightly nauseous as the woman suddenly stormed out of his tent.

The psychic couldn’t understand why. Had he given her a bad show? He had done as was expected of him, perhaps she was scared? Yeah, that must’ve been it. She wasn’t able to accept that he could be the real deal and had been angry about it. He chuckled a little as he wiped a small spot on the crystal ball. Some people simply couldn’t open their mind that some individuals might be gifted with powers beyond their understanding. The man suddenly gasped as a vision overtook him. He felt freezing water around him, there also seemed to be a person next to him. He didn’t know who he was, but he knew he had to save him. The man was screaming, but not out of fear because of the situation, it was rage because someone was getting away. He wouldn’t hear reason if he spoke, he had to use telepathy. ‘Telepathy?’

“You'll drown. You have to let go. I know what this means to you, but you're going to die. Please, Erik, calm your mind.”

Wait, did he say Erik? But it couldn’t be the same Erik, they’d just met. The vision continued. The man was trying to struggle out of his hold, screaming at him to get away and let him get his revenge.

“Calm down. Just breathe. We're here!” He heard himself plead. The vision faded away, leaving Charles more confused than he’d ever been in his life. What was this memory? Was it even a memory? A voice in his head kept repeating that it was nothing, just extreme daydreaming. But that didn’t make any sense, it felt so real. The psychic exited the tent, he had to find Erik, and Nightcr- Kurt and Raven. Why would he need to find a raven? He rolled around aimlessly trying to make sense of the situation. All the horrible things he had witnessed, they couldn’t be true, it was simply too horrible.

After awhile of pointless wandering, he noticed a purple mist falling upon the circus, filling every crack, and finding its way to the people. He watched the tendrils approach him with suspicion as it coiled around him.

Charles awoke, suddenly and without warning. But Wanda hadn’t done this, it felt different. Still, he had to find the others, Peter could be in danger. Everyone was waking up; he could feel all their pain and confusion as the mind control was lifted. Some tried to run towards the barrier, but he turned the other way. That’s where he had last seen his friends. He spotted Raven first, she had probably been mid performance, judging by her colorful outfit. She walked towards him as he called to her. He wouldn’t use telepathy for now, Wanda’s powers were probably too similar and would cause a slight panic. Kurt suddenly manifested in front of them. His clothes hadn’t changed much from his usual outfit. They now had to find Erik. They looked through the crowd of people, but there was no sign of the metal bender. Finally, his eyes locked onto the familiar figure. The man walked forward and stopped next to the group.

“Well,” he said, “that was, without doubts, one of the worst experiences of my life.”

Raven and Kurt agreed, both of them saying how they were stuck reliving painful memories while not being able to control their bodies. Charles watched them with a pensive hand to his face. How could he even tell them what he had experienced? He let them talk a little, they had to get this off their chest. As far as he knew, Kurt had never been through any types of mind control. It had to be hard for him. He watched them with steadily increasing anxiety, Wanda’s words running through his head.

“We have a problem,” he finally said. He let the others get closer as he took a breath. “I spoke to Wanda; she came to see me. She’s fully aware of what she’s doing and very keen on keeping her perfect life.” He turned to Erik with sorrowful eyes. “She... she’s aware that Peter isn’t her brother, but it doesn’t matter to her. She’s determined to keep him at her side.”

He could sense Erik’s rage building up. The man clenched his jaw as he balled his hands in a fist. “Then, let’s make sure she doesn’t get a chance to keep him.”

***

Notes: Next chapter is the finale of the show, but were far from the end!