#guess i failed to resist welp

[thatone-highlighter]

eheheh I always get excited when I get ask from u about AT so I wanted to send you some about SU >:] Soooo, favorite episodes ? Or scenes or plot points ?

Thanks bestie i very rarely actually have the chance ti get excited about SU

My favourite episodes of the show are Catch and Release and When It Rains. These episodes are the turning point of Peridot’s character arc. I really like it because of the look into Peridots character it has, she was always a comparatively immature but this is the first instance where she is placed into a position where she is basically defenceless, sure theres The Return where shes below Jasper but in every other situation we see her in she has some kind of power over the people around her even if its just the power to get away. So she takes any she can get. Theyre just two really nice episodes to me.

Catch and Release is about Steven letting Peridot out of her bubble and then Peridot trapping herself in his bathroom. My fav scene in the ep is when both Steven and Peridot are on the floor and he accidentally introduces her to silly fake out pranks that she doesnt quite fully understand. Its so funny and silly

When It Rains is just. A lovely episode to me. Peridot makes some very logical jumps based on the information she has access to and also develops her friendship with Steven. Him teaching her about how rain works is Such a nice scene and then her stepping out into the rain is so !

Outside of those two episodes my favourite whole arc would have to be the Steven Vs Amethyst arc. Its placed at the end of season 3 and is sprung along by Jasper running around collecting corrupted gems until eventually she comes to beach city to attack the crystal gems where she poofs Amethyst before Stevonnie poofs one of the corrupted gems and Jasper runs off back into the ocean. And after seeing Stevonnie manage to beat Jasper where she couldn’t, Amethyst starts to spiral into self doubt. She keeps comparing herself to Steven and Jasper and feeling like she can never measure up to either of them, seeing Jasper as what she could have been and Steven as someone she was supposed to be better than. Bismuth, the 100th episode and half hour introductory special to its titular character is thrown in half way through this arc, and while the focus is shifted off Amethyst in favour of Bismuth herself you can still see little bits of the episode feeding into her self doubt in the background mainly from the fact that even tho Bismuth is supposed to be one of the original crystal gems, nobody ever told her about her. The arc has two main culmination points, Steven Vs Amethyst (the episode) where Steven confronts Amethyst about her self doubt and have a fight over who out of the two of them is the worst crystal gem, the fight ends in a tie and they both confide in each-other about how hard they’re trying and their own self doubts. The second culmination point is in the penultimate episode either Beta or Earthlings where Amethyst, having dealt with her feelings of inadequacy to Steven, still wants to prove herself by taking Jasper down in a fight. Whoch doesnt exactly go well but it does result in the introduction of Steven’s first gem fusion, Smokey Quartz.

The Steven Vs Amethyst arc just has so many different moving parts that i really enjoy. Amethyst is one of my favourite characters and this arc kind of is the only time in the whole series she gets the spotlight for more than an episode at a time, there are a few here and there like On The Run, Too Far, Whats Your Problem, Reformed, to an extent Maximum Capacity and Cry For Help where Amethyst gets the focus of the episode but it never lasts very long, so of course an arc where she Does get the focus is going to be one im invested in. I love it as a dive into Amethyst’s character because at the start of the show she really doesnt have much depth that we get to see but as the show goes on you really get to see her grow up along side Steven. Compared to other humans Amethyst is pretty old, a few thousand years, but in gem terms shes basically a baby, and on top of that she has existed in such a unique way compared to every other gem because shes only ever known earth and being around humans, she doesnt have anything else to base her knowledge off and the other gems are careful to make sure she doesnt have that information influencing her, which you can really see in episodes like Too Far and Bismuth where characters who dont have such reservations tell her these things. And it kind of blinds the other gems as well, they have been trying to keep some of the realities of war and homeworld away from her so she can be happy but it means that they dont see where they still manage to effect her. For example in On The Run when Pearl just doesnt get that the way she talks about homeworld and the invasion effects Amethyst and makes her think that Pearl sees her as lesser, even if she doesn’t and that was never the intent.

I kinda got side tracked but yeah, i really like the Steven vs Amethyst arc. It goes into and highlights Amethysts flaws and self doubts and builds up and reaffirms her relationship to Steven through them both bonding over their shortcomings. It also helps that its the introduction to one of my favourite fusions and Amethyst getting poofed gives her my favourite of all her forms in the show.

I would like to just Highlight this part from Earthlings(the tail end of the arc) because its just, its so good and its just. Yeah

Amethyst: Steven, i Cant Win. No matter what i do, no matter how hard i work, she came out right and i came out wrong

Steven: Thats just what Jasper thinks, shes the only one who thinks you should be like her. Stop trying to be like Jasper, you’re nothing like Jasper. You’re like Me! Because were both not like anybody. And yeah, it sucks. But at least I’ve got you, and you’ve got me. So stop leaving me out of this

Amethyst: Us worse gems stick together, right?

Steven: Thats why we’re the best

Both Steven and Amethyst struggle with slightly different things, but theyre both close enough that they understand what the other is going through. Theyre both the younger parts of the Crystal Gems, theyve both grown up on earth around humans and neither of them went through or even really know much about the Gem War. But they also both feel like they need to live up to these expectations that nobody is really putting on them, nobody is expecting Steven to replace Rose, nobody thinks Amethyst isnt good enough or wrong because she came out smaller and later than she was supposed to. And anyone who does think that is clearly shown to be the bad guy (Homeworld gems thinking Steven Is Rose, Jasper making fun of Amethyst etc etc.). But they both place these expectations on themselves because its what they think others expect of them. Steven has spent his whole life trying to follow in Rose’s footsteps and fill the huge shoes she left behind, so he gets it when Amethyst feels like she needs to measure up to Jasper. And when shit starts going down with Rose or Steven starts getting stuck in his own head, Amethyst is there as an outside perspective, a neutral third party almost, who can step in and say ‘hey, this is messed up, do you need some help’

Im gonna shut up about Amethyst for now or we could be here a While

Uhh favourite scenes what we got.

Id say the ones ive already mentioned, Steven and Peridot on the bubble room floor in C&R, Steven showing Peri rain for the first time in When It Rains, the end of their fight in Steven Vs Amethyst, the scene where Smokey Quartz fuses for the first time in Earthlings. But outside of those ones id probably also add the scene in Lion 3: Straight to Video where lion keeps trying to suffocate steven for its comedy. peridot standing up to Yellow Diamond in Message Received, probably a bit cliche but it Is a good one. In the same vein It Could Have Been Great and Peridot talking about what earth could have been if the colonisation had succeeded. Steven Universe is an 11 minute show so most of the time favourite scene’s do go with favourite episodes and arcs but that could also just be me

Thank you so much for this bestie i got So excited i spent like 2 hours on this

[emeraldiis]

Tied Hands Can’t Kill

A/N: welp, it’s finally here! Part two of Enough Trust for Us Both, enjoy!!

AO3 Link

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Summary:  Bucky watches you, hungry eyes glued to your glistening fingers when you pull them out. His tongue comes out to drag across his lips, and you know what he wants.

Bucky’s afraid of hurting you, so you cuff him during sex. That’s pretty much the summary

Tonight’s date night. You have lots of fun things prepared: a nice dinner, a movie, several bottles of fine wine, and a shiny pair of vibranium handcuffs. The cuffs are out of sight, resting in your nightstand, but you still feel like they’re mocking you as you stir the spaghetti on the stove. Bucky’s out, meeting with Stark about some complicated feud with another country that you didn’t understand, and you’re anxiously awaiting his return. The noodles probably didn’t need to be stirred that much, but you need to keep busy. You have to keep your mind off of tonight if you want to make it through dinner.

You’re just setting out the plates as Bucky walks in. You’re greeted with a bear hug that nearly topples you over, and you manage to squeak out a warning before Bucky sends the tableware crashing to the ground.

Bucky steps back and holds you at arm's length, eyes softening as he gazes lovingly at you. “Sorry, doll. I missed you.”

You melt. A warm smile trickles across your face and you sigh happily. “I missed you, too. You hungry? I made pasta.”

As he inhales deeply, taking in the rich scent of your cooking, Bucky nearly starts drooling. “I’m starving,” he moans, making a beeline for the pot on the stove. You watch him go, rolling your eyes. Looks like you didn’t need to worry about filling his plate. With a shrug, you serve yourself, too.

Dinner is as good as you’d hoped it’d be. Bucky barely has time to breathe with how quickly he shovels food down his throat, mumbling compliments through a full mouth. You don’t mind his iffy manners; if he likes your cooking that much, then you’d let eat however he wanted. Even if that meant feeling like you were sitting across from a dog with a steak.

The wine disappears just as quickly as the food. You limit yourself to a few glasses, wanting a clear head for the night’s events, but Bucky does no such thing. Having an enhanced tolerance was both a blessing and a curse, you thought to yourself. On one hand, he could have as many glasses he wanted without worrying about getting a bit too tipsy, but on the other...you’ve seen him rack up one hell of a tab at a bar.

Finally sated, Bucky leans back in his chair and shoots you a grin. “Doll, I think I missed your cookin’ more than I missed you,” he teases.

A giggle bubbles up from your stomach. “I guess I’ll have to start ordering take out. Maybe it’ll make you appreciate me a bit more.”

“No,” Bucky whines, lips falling into a pout. “I take it back, I’m sure you’re better tasting than anything you can whip up in the kitchen.”

There it is again, that flirty side that you rarely get to witness. You try to encourage him, wanting more of that wicked mouth. “How about you see for yourself?” You pause, gauging Bucky’s reaction. When he holds your stare instead of looking away, you know you’re okay to keep going. “I, I have the cuffs.” Your face burns when Bucky’s eyes widen, like he hadn’t been expecting you to follow through on your promise. “You know, for later. If you want.” Your voice has lowered into something only a bit louder than a whisper, and you can feel yourself losing your nerve.

“Can we,” Bucky starts, pausing to swallow thickly. “Can we skip the movie?”

Your heart jumps, then picks back up its pounding rhythm. You can hear the blood rushing in your ears, can feel it drain all the way down to your stomach, and then between your legs. “Yeah, yeah we can do that.” Your voice sounds foreign, strange, through your ringing ears. You take another sip of wine, hoping to ease the anxiety. Nervousness swirls with excitement through your stomach. This is what you want, what you’ve been waiting for all these months, but now that it’s here? The butterflies feel like they have knives.

When he realizes that you’re frozen in place, Bucky stands, and makes it way over to you. You can tell that he’s half-hard in his black jeans, and your mouth starts to water. You swallow hard before rising from your chair and trying to step past Bucky, towards the hallway. He places a big hand on your shoulder, and you freeze again.

“Hey,” Bucky murmurs. He leans down to press his lips to the top of your head, and his breath tickles when it blows through your hair. “Breathe, baby. We don’t have to do-”

“No!” You say loudly, startling Bucky. Seeing his brow furrowed in worry, you force yourself to take a deep breath and collect yourself before continuing. “Sorry, I just...I don’t want to fuck this up. I want it to be good for both of us, so bad, and I’m scared you won’t enjoy it.”

With a stern look and a purse of his lips, Bucky gently grabs each of your arms and brings them around his neck. “Stop that,” he says, and your knees go to jelly when it comes out more as a command than a request. “Baby doll, whatever you end up doing, I promise you that I will enjoy it. I think you’re forgetting that I’ve dreamin’ about this, too.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “And you’ll tell me if I do something you don’t like?”

Bucky’s metal fingers come up to brush a stray piece of hair out of your face, and you close your eyes when the soothing cold of the metal touches your cheek. “I promise.”

*

You don’t make it past the doorway to the bedroom before Bucky has you up against the wall, kissing the life out of you. He’s still holding back, you notice, but this is progress. His metal arm is stuffed in his back pocket, keeping it away from you, but he’s using the other to support himself on the wall beside your head, boxing you in. You moan into his mouth, and Bucky pulls back instinctively. His pupils are blown wide and he’s panting, lips parted. “I think,” he whispers. “I think we need those handcuffs now.”

You’re quick to act, ducking past him to open your nightstand drawer and snatching them from their hiding place. The metal is so cold that it almost feels sharp, and you unconsciously hold the cuffs away from your body like they’re a dangerous animal. Something glints in Bucky’s eyes when he sees the handcuffs. He chews on his bottom lips, still standing near the entrance of the room. Deciding that he needs some...encouragement, you make a show of crawling onto the bed, making sure your skirt comes up just enough to reveal your black panties.

A growl sounds from behind you, and the bed dips as Bucky clambers on. He wastes no time in pushing past you, lying down and sliding to the headboard, putting his arms above his head obediently. “Someone’s eager, huh?” You laugh, scooting to the side of the bed to give Bucky more room.

Bucky narrows his eyes. “Don’t play dumb. You’re over here shaking that cute little ass in my face, how’s a man expected to resist that?” He wiggles his arms impatiently. “C’mon, sweet thing.” Now it’s you who needs encouragement. Bucky catches the uncertainty on your face and drops his arms to tug at the hem of his tight navy shirt. With a wink, he lifts the fabric up above his head, giving you an eyeful of those huge biceps and tight abs. The shirt gets tossed somewhere to the side, neither of you caring to notice where it lands.

A breath catches in your throat, and you shoot an apprehensive look to the cuffs dangling from your hand. Moving quickly before you lose your nerve, you slide over to Bucky and straddle his hips, then lean up to hook the handcuffs around his wrists. All the while, you keep a close eye on Bucky’s expression, watching for any sign of discomfort. You know that he probably has some pretty traumatic memories associated with being restrained; triggering those is the last thing you want to do.

To your relief, Bucky’s face stays open and trusting. He watches you with a rapt look, eyes lidded in arousal as you click the cuffs around the wooden headboard. “Don’t break my bed,” you with as stern of a voice as you can muster. Bucky bites his lip against what you just know is going to be some teasing remark. You stick your tongue out at him and sit back on your haunches, admiring your handiwork.

Bucky looks absolutely gorgeous. His arms are stretched up above him, and in his human arm the muscles ripple and bulge as he shifts. The look on his face is what kills you, though. He looks wrecked, lips bitten red and face flushed with a pretty shade of pink. You lean down to kiss him gently, grinning to yourself when he tries and fails to arch up and deepen the kiss. “Oh, baby. We haven’t even started and you’re already…” you trail off with a breathy sigh of adoration.

“Shut up,” Bucky shoots back, turning his head to the side as much as he can to avoid your gaze. “I-it’s been a while since I’ve, y’know.”

You immediately feel bad for teasing him. Wanting to kiss the frown off of Bucky’s lips, you place your fingers on the side of his jaw to turn his face back towards you. When he shivers, you trail a fingertip down his face, scratching a bit at the dark stubble there. Bucky trembles again, and you immediately press your mouth to his. Something in that kiss seems to set him off, because he wastes no time straining against his bonds and licking his way past your lips.

You moan around his tongue as it strokes yours. Now this is a proper kiss, nothing like those gentle pecks you had gotten so used to. Fireworks explode behind your eyelids when they fall shut, and everything in you wants to uncuff Bucky, to feel those strong hands grip your hips and pull you onto his cock. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the thought as your patience dissipates.

Reluctantly breaking away from the kiss, you slide down Bucky’s body until you reach the hem of his jeans. Your eyes flick back up to Bucky’s to silently ask for permission. He nods and blushes. Shaking fingers reach for the button, and although it takes you a few tries, you eventually manage to undo it. The sound of Bucky’s zipper being pulled down is deafening in the quiet room. Bucky sighs in relief as you relieve the pressure on his erection, and you nearly groan out loud at seeing the bulge in his dark red briefs. A loud clink startles you out of your daze, and you realize that Bucky’s straining against the cuffs, looking at you with desperation. “Please, doll. I’m done waiting.”

You can’t help but take pity on your squirming boyfriend. With a coy grin, you slide Bucky’s briefs down his legs and lower your head until his leaking cock is nearly brushing your lips. Bucky whines at you, and you flick your tongue out to catch the drop of precum beading at the tip. The reaction you get is explosive. Bucky cries out and arches up towards your mouth, metal arm whirring loudly as he struggles against his bonds. You place a hand on his hip to soothe him, but also as a warning to settle down before he works himself up too much.

Wide eyes meet yours, and then they close while Bucky takes deep breaths. He forces himself to relax against the pillows, jaw clenched. “Sorry,” he half-whispers. His voice sounds wrecked already. “‘M bein’ good. Can you...?”

It’s impossible to resist; Bucky’s so submissive, so willing to please you, and it’s driving you crazy. Taking a breath, you dive down to suck him into your mouth, fighting back a smile when his hips jerk under your hand. Fortunately, Bucky seems to have gotten a handle on himself. Muscles tense, he manages to keep from choking you as you let your jaw adjust to the stretch.

You breathe through your nose, sinking lower until you’re almost nestled against his stomach, then pull back, dragging your tongue along the bottom ridge. That earns you a soft curse, so you repeat the motion, soon getting into a steady rhythm that has Bucky groaning and pleading for more. Just once, you overestimate your abilities and have to fight back a gag, but that only seems to arouse Bucky further. You begin to swirl your tongue around the head on the upstrokes, and it isn’t long before Bucky’s pulsing in your mouth, ready to spend down your throat. “S-stop, fuck, stop,” Bucky whimpers. “Don’t wanna cum yet.” Despite his protests, Bucky’s hips twitch again and again in little aborted thrusts.

As much as you want Bucky’s cum dripping down your throat, you back off, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. “You ready?” You ask, already unzipping your skirt and pulling it off along with your dripping panties. You’re more than ready, so wet that you doubt you’ll need any preparation. Still, you lean back and dip two fingers into yourself just to check.

Bucky watches you, hungry eyes glued to your glistening fingers when you pull them out. His tongue comes out to drag across his lips, and you know what he wants. Feeling a bit shy, but wanting to drive Bucky even wilder than you already have, you slowly reach out your hand until your fingers are hovering in front of Bucky’s face; an invitation. One that he graciously accepts, eagerly taking your fingers into his mouth. Bucky’s eyes nearly roll back as he tastes you, soft tongue lapping at your skin like it’s coated in a priceless wine.

“Buck,” you moan softly. “Lemme ride you, I wanna cum on your cock.” Your eager hands are frantic, undoing the stubborn buttons of your blouse as fast as you can manage. Bucky instinctively moves to help you, growling when the cuffs halt his movement. You feel dizzy with power, head swimming as you look down at Bucky. You could do anything to him, and for a moment you’re overwhelmed by the realization that he would let you. All you want to do is make him feel good.

You slide the blouse off of your shoulders--Bucky’s eyes nearly bug out of his head when he sees that you’re braless--and bring your trembling fingers to caress the scruff at Bucky’s jaw. He leans into your touch, and you’re not sure which one of you is shaking worse. “Can I make you feel good now, baby?” You ask, voice a raspy drawl that sounds foreign to your ears. Bucky barely has the chance to nod before you start to kiss up his neck. Whatever response he had planned dies on the tip of his tongue as you drag yours across his skin.

Oh-so carefully, you reach under you to grasp Bucky’s throbbing cock and guide it to your soaked entrance. The second the head makes contact with your pussy, Bucky gasps wildly and jerks his hips up. He slips from your grasp as he manages to slip into your sex with little resistance. Your core clenches around the stretch and you moan raggedly. Fuck, he feels amazing. Thick and long and hitting every single spot that makes your toes curl.

You collapse onto Bucky’s chest with a whimper, trying your hardest to adjust to his size. Bucky nuzzles into your hair and murmurs words of encouragement, choked out praises. When your body stops feeling like it’s about to burst into flames, you brace your hands on either side of Bucky’s head and raise yourself up off of his hips. When you slide back down, both of you groan. You lift up again, and before you can make another move, Bucky shakes his head.

“Stay right there, doll. Keep those hips up for me,” he growls, and you don’t dare disobey. “I’m gonna wreck you, honey.” You’ve completely lost the upper hand; what dominance you may have had vanished the instant Bucky gave you an order.

You nearly bite through your lip when Bucky starts pistoning into you from below, each thrust knocking the wind out of you. He doesn’t start out slow, years of celibacy making him feral and desperate. You want to kiss him, grab his hair, something, but you’re frozen in place, helpless. Bucky snaps his hips into your ass with inhuman speed, and the obscene smacks of skin against skin sound like thunderclaps. It’s nothing compared to the sounds that fall from Bucky’s lips, though.

“Fuck, baby. Love how that p-pussy’s gripping me so tight.” Growls and groans interrupt his filthy praise, but it only makes him sound sexier. Gasps tear from your throat with every breath, and your eyes roll back. “Yeah, you fucking love it, don’t you? Look at you, taking my cock so good. You’re mine. ”

The more Bucky talks, the closer you creep to the edge. You can feel it in your stomach, coiling tight and hot. “Bucky, I’m, I’m gonna-”

“Oh, god. Cum on me, baby doll. I, ah, I wanna feel it.” Bucky’s hair is sweat slicked, sticking to his face. His brows are knitted tight together, betraying his confidence. You feel his hips stuttering, then look down at those cloudy eyes and know he’s close, too. The cuffs rattle and the headboard creaks, and that’s what does you in. Knowing that Bucky is bound, and he is still the one absolutely ruining you for anyone else.

A cry of “Bucky!” escapes your mouth as your head snaps back. Your entire body goes rigid as you climax, pleasure rippling across your nerves like tiny atom bombs. Bucky keens as he feels you clamp around him, and fights to keep his hips moving to work you through your orgasm. It’s too much, though, and he sobs your name as he spills inside of you, going slack against the cuffs.

Your shaking thighs finally give out, and you sag against Bucky. As both of you attempt to catch your breath, euphoria settles over you like a cool blanket. It was about fucking time. With how Bucky just fucked you within an inch of your life, you decide that it was worth the wait. Still, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t tease Bucky just a bit. “I think if that headboard can survive being assaulted like that, I’ll be just fine,” you say, voice still unsteady.

Bucky snorts. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” He wiggles his arms. “Can you get me out of these, though? I wanna hold my doll after making love to her.”

Your cheeks flush, but you roll off of Bucky to retrieve the key from your nightstand. With some fiddling, you unlock the handcuffs and set Bucky free. He stretches, loosening his stiff muscles, then pulls you back to his solid chest, stroking your tangled hair. “Thank you,” he whispers so softly that you aren’t sure if he actually said anything.

“Anything for you,” you reply just as quietly. You shift a bit to get more comfortable, and hear a crack. “Please tell me that wasn’t the headboard.”

Bucky glances up, then pats your head reassuringly. “It wasn’t the headboard.”

“Then what was it?”

“It was definitely the headboard.”

[sin-of-sloth-my-ass]

The Fallen Fairy Pt. 1

A/N: I noticed how inactive the Tumblr side of this fandom is 🤔 If you have any request don't hesitate to ask!

Previous ~ Next

warnings: spoilers

genre: neutral? Bit of Angst?

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"What ya looking at?" Your curious eyes peeked over King's shoulder as you followed his gaze that was directed at Diane and Howzer.

King let out a scream by your sudden appearance behind me, making everyone turn to look at you two curiously, but he waved it off "don't scare me like that, (Y/N)"

"It's been a while since I've been able to scare you, hasn't it" you smiled mischievously, but your words held a lot more meaning than just playfulness. The guilt of that ominous day is something the Fairy King will have to bear to his grave. Your once golden like wings were gone never to be seen again. It was a time never to be spoken of as it was a dreadful day to the both of you.

"Say, my king, you sure you're the sin of sloth? You act more like the sin of envy in my eyes" you mused as you lean your chin in your hands, all while a playful smile was playing on your lips.

Kings scoffed "I told you not to call me that any more. I'm not fit to be a king."

"And I'm not fit to be a fairy any more, but here we are" you replied nonchalantly as you turned in your seat to watch Meliodas and Ban intoxicating themselves with the golden liquid humans couldn't resist.

"What about you? I've seen you staring at Ban a couple of times" He asked as he was the one following your gaze this time.

Unbeknownst to King, it wasn't Ban you had been staring at, but the man opposite of him that held so much resemblance to your past lover. It almost felt like a cruel joke "it's not that deep, besides he's still not over Elaine, so I don't think I have that much of a chance."

"Oi, Tinkerbell" Meliodas called, snapping you out of your haze. Due to your bewildered eyes, a smirk grew on his face as you reminded him of a kid that got caught doing something it shouldn't do.

"What do you want devil's child" you shot back, regaining composure and copying the same smug look he had.

"(Y/N)" King gasped at your response "he's the captain! Don't go around and throw names out like that"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. It's all a joke, right Meliodas?" you defended yourself, but the mischievous look in your eyes didn't go unnoticed by the said boy.

"It's alright King. I know she's just joking" he reassured him. "Anyway, I think the customers could use another round"

"Go ask Elizabeth" you waved him off.

"She's at the capitol" he replied. You grith your teeth "what about Gowther?"

"He went with Merlin somewhere" he informed, amused by your growing irritation "you know our deal. When those two aren't around, you're the one serving the customers"

"Fine" you breathed as you head up from your seat and went behind the bar to give everyone their respective drinks.

"Thank you! What about the uniform, though?" He teased to which you rolled your eyes "don't push it"

To your luck, Elizabeth soon enough arrived, letting you escape the tedious deal you made with the captain of the Seven Deadly Sins.

"Diane!! Let's go train!"

You ran outside the boarhead before Meliodas could come up with a way to rope you into working longer.

You did your best to keep up with Diane's long strolls, cursing in your mind how easier it would've been if you still had your wings.

Once you were deep in the forest and excluded enough from any living creature, you took your fighting stance.

"You know you could always ask Merlin to take a look at your wings. Maybe she finds a way to fix them" Diane said as you did your best to dodge her Golems.

"Mhm, I know. I don't want too, though. It's a reminder to myself of how I failed my kind and how I should work every day to become stronger." You explained as you slashed one of the stone creations with your katana, making it crumble to the floor. You quickly dodged as the other was already coming at you with its fist.

Diane frowned at your answer "you know it wasn't your fault, right?"

"They trusted me. I was their number one defence line and I failed them. I was the royal guard. The one that should protect the Fairy King. How can I possibly be fit for that role when I couldn't even protect my friends? It should've been only me that got killed that day, not them." You mumbled the last part. Diane's creations collapsed as you kicked it with all your force against a tree. You took in the giants emotional state and knew continuing to train was not an option. "Let's go back, shall we?"

By the time you got back, the night had fallen over Britannia. The boardhead was filled with intoxicated people passed out all over the place.

You head up to the roof to look out on the capital that had a few lights brimming in the otherwise dark city.

"I see you made Diane upset," Meliodas said as he joined you and handed you a bottle of ale which you gratefully accepted.

"She asked me why I didn't go to Merlin to see if she could get my wings back" you replied as you took a swig of the toxic liquid.

"You shouldn't blame yourself," he said.

"It's the second time I let my people down" you sighed "if death is not the answer, I guess this is the second-best thing"

"How do you feel about the seal?" He asked as he observed your reaction quietly.

You pressed your lips together as you let his questions sink in "I know it's bad news but at the same time... I haven't seen him in 3000 years"

"I know" he sighed, understanding your conflicted feelings "I hope you understand where I'm coming when I say I'm gonna do everything in my power to prevent them from breaking loose"

"Yeah... I know" you hugged your knees while placing your chin on them "when are you gonna tell them"

"When the time is right" he answered truthfully "what about you? King doesn't know how old you really are, does he?"

"He never asked" you shrugged.

"Would you tell him?" "I don't see why I wouldn't"

"Would you also tell King about him?" You stayed silent at that question, unsure whether it would benefit anyone if you were to tell him. "It's getting late, don't stay up too late."

With that Meliodas left, soon to return as you always had a chat in the midst of the night, while everyone is sound asleep around you

The upcoming sun awoke you from your place on the roof of the boarhead. You lazily sat up and admired the rose gold basked city that was slowly waking up as well.

"Hey Ban, planning on sneaking out without telling anyone?" You heard your king's voice, snapping you out of your dreamy haze.

You observed the two for a little until Ban said something that caught you off guard "I'm going back to the Fairy King's Forest"

It was hard to see their faces from up to where you were seated, but you knew King held a shocked face, mimicking yours.

Your eyes trailed them until you could no longer see them, making you swallow hard as you realized the Fairy King didn't even bother to get you "hypocrite"

You hopped off the roof and went back inside the bar, starting to clean up the mess everyone made the night before.

"Are you sick?" Meliodas asked when he walked downstairs to see who was making all that noise.

"King and Ban left to go to the Fairy King's Forest" you said, not sparing him a second glance.

"How come you didn't go? I thought you went everywhere King went" he asked as he helped you grab a couple of empty bottles.

"He clearly didn't want me there, after all, he left without saying anything." You mumbled "Diane's gonna be heartbroken"

"(Y/N)" Meliodas narrowed his eyes at you. For all those decennia he has known you, he knew something had to be terribly wrong for you not be by the Fairy King's side "I'm no longer a fairy, now am I? Fairies have wings, I don't"

"Neither has King" the captain of the seven deadly sins pointed out.

"He can still grow them. Mine are gone forever" you shot back. "Besides I'm very certain the forest wouldn't give me a third chance. It would be gut-wrenching knowing I could never return there"

"So you rather bask in the unknown?" You silently continuing to clean the used glasses was a sign for him to drop the subject "welp, it can't be helped. Guess you'll be the substitute for King"

"I could never replace my king" you shook your head.

"Your loyalty after all these hundreds of years still ceases to amaze me" he chuckled, making you smile a little as well.

You decided to stay back at the boarhead while the others went to the capital for the ceremony. It was a quiet day as you presumed most of the people of Britannia were at the ceremony to praise the Seven Deadly Sins.

You headed up to your usual spot on top of the boarhead and stared off in the distance and wondered when everything had become such a mess.

It crossed your mind that if Gloxinia was still here he'd probably be ashamed of how weak you've become. He'd probably turn his head at how you let the humans cut off your wings. After all, he warned you more times than you could count that humans should not be trusted. Yet here you were handing them alcohol in return for some golden coins. He'd be rolling in his grave if he'd caught wind of what you were doing right now.

A sudden tremor shook you literally out of your thought process and that's when you felt him. There was no mistake. Even after 3000 years, it still felt so familiar to you.

It didn't take long before Meliodas appeared back at the boarhead. "You felt it too, didn't you"

"Yes," you replied as looked at the Captain of the Seven Deadly Sins. His head hung low while an unease aura clouded his whole body "they're here"

[s1st3r]

Coincidence (Fives x f!Reader) Part 1

Author Note: This was originally a super basic idea that I just got really carried away with and before I knew it I had 1666 words and was like “welP. We’re doing multi chapter stuff now”. Bit of a slow pace at the moment. Part 2 will have more action.

Summary: You and Fives are assigned on a delicate infiltration mission. 

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1666

Rex’s POV

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to have them working together on this mission?”

I had to admit, I too was second guessing. It was a risky move, but I had faith that Fives and Y/N could pull this off.

“Yes sir,” I affirmed, “their specialised training accommodates for missions of this nature.”

“I’m well aware of their training Rex.” General Skywalker replied as we entered the bridge and approached the holotable. “I just wonder if things might get too… personal.”

“Sir, they’re the most dedicated soldiers I’ve ever met-“

“You mean the most stubborn,” Ahsoka, whom had been waiting for us on the bridge, supplied with a grin.

The general nodded his head reluctantly as though not completely convinced. He brought his hand up to rest on his chin as he contemplated.

“The communications have been established sir,” interrupted Admiral Yularen as he joined those of us surrounding the holotable.

A crackling sound came through as Fives and Y/N’s comms came online.

“Y/N comm check.”

“Fives comm check.”

General Skywalker leaned forward, overseeing the map of the multi-level mansion before him and the two red bleeping icons that signaled their positions.

“You’re clear to proceed,” he advised.

“Copy that,” rang Y/N’s clear voice.

I turned to face the general.

“They know what needs to be done sir.”

Skywalker considered my words carefully. He sighed, “I don’t know Rex. What if they’re not prepared to do what needs to be done?”

  Your POV

Heels echoed throughout the dimly lit hallway as I followed the sound of distant music and murmuring that spilled from the ballroom. As I drew closer, I held my breath in anticipation.

Or was that just this ridiculously tight corset?

I fluttered the fan in my hand in a feeble attempt to act like the lady everyone thought I was, while forcing some oxygen into my lungs. I took a deep gulp of air and compelled a graceful smile to my lips before I stepped into the light and glamour of the ongoing party.

Swiftly, I made my way over to the far side of the room where small tables covered in fine white tablecloth were dotted about for guests to rest at when their feet got tired of the dancing. Since it was still early in the night, many seats were yet to be occupied.

As inconspicuously as I could, I seated myself at a table displaced relatively far from the crowded dance floor. Casually, as if simply admiring the grand space, I surveyed the area. The room itself had to be at least three stories high with massive columns reaching up from the marble floor and curving to intertwine at the center of the ceiling, creating an arched effect. A magnificent chandelier was strung from the heights of the room and casted a beautiful reflection upon the floor’s surface and her dancers.

Hundreds of strangers in expensive clothing mingled below, constantly switching partners through the course of the dance. Swirling skirts and glimmering jewels were all that could be seen as I observed the onslaught of people.

All of this I saw in only a glance before my eyes found our man across the dance floor from me. He stood tall in a suit, cane in hand, as he conversed with other young men. Unfortunately, my eyes failed to find my man who was meant to be already situated at the main hall’s back exit.

I noted to my right, an approaching butler serving crystal glasses filled with rich red wine. Effortlessly, I reached out, seized a glass from the silver tray as he passed and brought the goblet to my lips as though to drink.

“I’m in position,” I muttered. “Eyes are on the target and ready to engage. Fives where are you?”

Small static sounds could be heard through my comm as the audio came through.

“Relax,” came the smooth reply, “I wouldn’t want to miss the party.” I resisted rolling my eyes at the slight tease in his tone. “Besides,” he continued, his voice dropping low, “I would love to see you in that dress again mesh’la.”

“Focus Fives.”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth at the General’s curt interruption.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Fives slip through a side door clad in the guard uniform he had stolen. My smirk grew. He looked so cute in the dress uniform; little epaulettes and all. Clearly Fives wasn’t the only one distracted. I forced my attention to the task at hand.

“Ready when you are.”

“About time,” I breathed as I left my cup on the table and stood. “Approaching target.”

 The Jedi Council had heard of a new Separatist general joining the fray.

Yavaros Tai.

Rumour had it that Tai was finalising his designs of a deadly weapon that he was revealing to his Separatist sponsors tonight. Clearly, the surrounding men he spoke to were his said benefactors. Wealth dangled from them.

Edging closer, I noted that he looked far younger than I had anticipated. No older than his mid-twenties.

The dark blue floral dress I wore dragged along the floor, so much so, not even my heeled shoes had given me the height I needed, and I resorted to tug the front of my dress upward to refrain from tripping. I hoped that all would go to plan, and I wouldn’t have to try and run in this thing. My only comfort was that I was well rehearsed in these kinds of missions and, on more than one occasion, proved myself to be surprisingly sufficient in improvising… and running.

As I approached the group of men, I planned my next steps carefully in my head. Now, with them only a few feet to my right, I looked over my shoulder as though entranced and distracted. An oblivious dancer, close to the edge of the throng, accidently collided into me and sent me tumbling. Before I could even register the surprised shouts of men, strong arms caught me, and I looked up to see the bright blue eyes of General Tai. Perfect.

  Fives’s POV

She was beautiful.

I knew we were in the middle of a mission, but my eyes were completely spellbound as they intently traced her movements. She moved with a grace and sophistication I had never seen on her before and, despite being dressed to fit in for the event, she stood out like a rose among thorns.

From my position near the doorway, I spied the envious looks from the surrounding women as she walked the expanse of the hall. I didn’t fail to realise the visible admiration from the men nearby either, but my brief jealousy was quickly replaced by pride. I couldn’t help the smug smile.

That’s my girl.

I wished I could be beside her. Show those men she was mine. Maybe ask her to dance. We could dance and laugh until our feet got tired and then leave the party, running down the empty corridors. We would find a way to climb up to the roof and spend the rest of the night under the stars like I know she loved to do.

My smile faltered. Not for the first time, disappointment and love fought for control as I struggled to come to terms with reality.

Because standing alone on the outskirts, I was again reminded anew.

She may love me, but I could never give her the life she deserved.

  Your POV

My mouth gaped open in false shock.

“Oh, excuse me!” I exclaimed. “My sincerest apologies!”

The corner of General Tai’s eyes crinkled in amusement as I gathered myself and pretended to act gushed and embarrassed. Smoothing out my dress, I noted his hands still rested on my shoulders. One of them still held onto his cane. Almost reluctantly, he let his arms fall to his sides as he took in my appearance. I blushed as his penetrating eyes slowly raked down and back up my form.

“My my,” he hummed, “what a beautiful specimen.” His hand caught mine and gently lifted it to brush his lips against my knuckles. His eyes stared intently into mine. It made me uncomfortable. In many ways he was generically handsome, blue eyes, blonde hair, high cheekbones, and a refined posture. Nothing like Fives with his dark features, rugged look, wild smile, and-

“Ehem.” My thoughts were interrupted when a man to our side leaned closer to the general. “We have important matters to discuss sir.” His narrowed eyes flickered over to me. I could tell he was trying to intimidate me as he squared his shoulders.

“Nothing that can’t wait Cronan.” Yavaros’s eyes never left mine.

“But sir- “

“Cronan,” Tai interjected, finally tearing his gaze away from me to focus on the man beside him. “This is a party, is it not? Enjoy yourselves this evening gentlemen. We will discuss business later.”

Cronan shot me daggers as him and the other men dispersed and weaved themselves among the partygoers. Some opted to dance, while most continued to converse with other diplomats.

“Looks like a fun crowd,” I remarked sarcastically, drawing the general’s attention back to me.

“Ah yes,” Tai smirked as his piercing eyes turned to fix on me once more. “I should like to apologise for his curtness. Cronan is… ambitious, and very keen in his handling of business.”

I look of hunger flashed in his eyes.

“Perhaps in some ways, I am no different.” I tried not to squirm as he edged closer to me.

“Oh?”

Ahhh man.

“Mmm.” I felt his breath ghost my cheek as he whispered in my ear. “I’m ambitious to gain your affections Miss…”

“Miss Y/N,” I supplied in a breathy tone. While he mistook it for admiration, I tried to steal my nerves.

He leered. “Miss Y/N,” he murmured, as though playing how the name felt on his tongue. The tension in the air tangible. “Would you join me for a walk?”

To be continued...

~ Sister

Tags: @imalovernotahater​ @kaorikoizumi​ @xlittlemissydjx​ @damerondala​

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future works!

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

ohh i saw your answer about the sequels of star wars. id love to read you tear through the whole trilogy

Well, I’ve avoided this ask long enough. Part of the reason is this is really a huge topic, far too much for one ask, so I’m going to have to do this at a very high level.

In short, the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy is what one gets when you slap together the goal of selling merchandise and making tons of money, being as risk averse as humanly possible, adding a handful of warring directors with incredibly different visions, and having virtually no imagination when it comes to the imagining and writing of characters.

And we get this beautiful, awful, franchise that for reasons beyond me people seem to actually like (though interestingly, no one seems to like all of it, they may actually like one or two of the films, but no one says all three are actually in any realm of good).

With that, let’s begin.

The Force Awakens

For me this is easily the most tolerable of the sequel trilogy: it’s not great, it’s not terrible. It’s thoroughly watchable, you can be taken along for the movie’s journey and not raise your eyebrows too much at the action and leave the theater feeling this maybe wasn’t a complete waste of your time.

There’s a good reason for that. That reason is called the most blatant form of plagiarism I have ever seen in cinema in my life.

“The Force Awakens” is just “A New Hope” wearing a mustache. Only, it’s one of those cheap mustaches you get from a party store that, if you stare at it too long, just looks like the most false and awful thing you’ve ever seen. The mustache actively makes it worse. “The Force Awakens” is “A New Hope”, but worse.

Seriously, every major character, every major plot point, every major scene I can go directly back to “A New Hope”.

Our story begins when the Resistance, at great cost to our valiant heroes including torture at the hands of the Emperor’s second in command, sends a file out into the wilderness to be received by his people. This file contains plans for the Death Star.

The film then focuses on Luke, er Rey, getting involved in the Resistance, boarding the Death Star, and successfully destroying at the same time even at the lost of a beloved mentor that she just met (trading in Obi-Wan for Han Solo). 

Our evil empire is run by an evil emperor who is so evil he sits in a chair, is served by very Moth Tarkin-esque human storm troopers, and has a second in command who revels in the Darth Vader get up (for no other reason that it makes him feel cool but we’ll get into this).

It’s “A New Hope”. Rey is Luke, Han Solo is Obi-Wan, Poe is a kind of Han Solo, Kylo Ren is Vader, Snoke is Palpatine, Hux is Tarkin, BB-8 is R2-D2, etc.

“But that’s not terrible,” you say, “I liked A New Hope?”

First, it is terrible, it gives a very bad sign of where the sequel trilogy is headed and is just lazy writing. It means that those who produced this franchise were so terrified of taking risks, of possibly ending up mocked as the prequels were, that they will deliver exactly what the original trilogy was. And what’s that? Uh, evil empires, scrappy desert kids, AND MORE DEATH STARS!

That brings us to point number two, the world of Star Wars after the events of the original trilogy shouldn’t support such things. And, if it does, my god what a bleak existence this place has turned into.

The First Order being able to rise easily from the Empire’s remains means that Luke accomplished nothing. Anakin sacrificed himself and had his moment of redemption for nothing. There was no happy ending to the Original Trilogy, our heroes failed miserably, and there is no indication that our new band of heroes can possibly succeed in their place. (More on this as the movies progress).

We now are in a galaxy where this new Republic is so pathetic that Leia doesn’t even give it the time of day and builds her own private army to battle the Empire. The First Order is able to not only rebuild a massive army by raiding villages on many different worlds and stealing children and do so successfully for at least ten years but is able to build a Death Star bigger than any we’ve ever seen before. 

And the movie tries to convince us these are completely new problems, that Luke Skywalker is a hero (remember this is TFA, not TLJ yet), and that somehow these things just sprung up out of nowhere. BUT YEAH, RESISTANCE, WOO!

As for Rey, she’s like... a worse version of Luke. Her only motivation through the entire series is her trauma at being abandoned by her parents. That’s it, there’s nothing else to her, nothing else she ever wants or feels conflicted by. She struggles with the dark side because... the dark side? Genetics? Unclear? She’s absurdly, ridiculously, powerful in a way that’s acknowledged but never that acknowledged (we’ll get into this) and the movies just fail to sell me on her in any way.

Honestly, an easy fix for me would have just been making Rey a much younger character. I could believe a fourteen-year-old having stayed in the desert, scrounging for scraps, believing her parents are coming back every day now. As a twenty-something year old... It starts getting hard to believe she never left. (Also, this gets the benefit of getting rid of Reylo, which is always a plus for me).

As for Kylo Ren, I legitimately walked out of TFA thinking he was supposed to be comic relief. He’s what happens when someone desperately wants a likable, redeemable, villain and we get... Well, as a reminder his opening scene is one of genocide: he pillages and destroys a town with no regret and brutally tortures a man for information. We’re told he’s like this “because evil evil Snoke” and that may well be but throughout the film (and the series) it becomes clear that Kylo Ren’s main motivation is he deseprately wants to be cool. He wants to be a badass like Vader, he dresses in Vader cosplay (either ignoring or not knowing that Vader only dressed like that because his body was completely destroyed), he has these huge temper tantrums and nobody respects him because he’s a toddler in a Vader suit. 

He murders his own father, his parents who (at least in the films themselves) show every willingness to take him back and forgive him what he’s done, so that he can fully embrace his own “evilness”. In other words, he commits patricide to feel cool about himself, then it doesn’t work. 

And the movie series really banks on me feeling conflicted about Kylo Ren or at least wanting him to be redeemed. Granted, the wider internet seems to love him, I just can’t.

Oh, before I forget, the other thing I love about Kylo Ren is that the movies insist he’s a) strong in the Force b) is equal to Rey. Rey consistently beats the shit out of him with 0 training. Kylo Ren has been training in the Force for years. Guys, they are not a Dyad, Rey is far far far stronger than he is and for whatever reason the films never want to admit it. Because I guess we like things coming in pairs now.

But yes, “The Force Awakens”, at a distance not great nor terrible, but a rip off of a movie we’ve already seen that left me going “Welp, the next one’s probably The Empire Strikes Back then I guess we’re getting Ewoks”. I was sort of right on that and sort of wrong.

The Last Jedi

So, JJ Abrams clearly had a vision of where he wanted this sequel trilogy to go. He set up these big questions such as what’s up with Finn, who are Rey’s parents and why was she left on this nowhere planet, will Kylo Ren be redeemed and how, who is Snoke, etc.

Now, I’m not saying these aren’t stupid questions. To be frank, they kind of are. Finn being Force Sensitive was the most inconsequential thing I’ve ever heard of, Rey’s parents should not have been used to drive the plot the way it was, as spoken above I’m clearly team gut Kylo Ren, and that Snoke was actually just Palpatine being the world’s largest cockroach is a beautiful but hilarious answer.

That said, what Johnson did was he decided, “You know what, I’m going to take every trope of Star Wars and completely flip it on its head and absolutely doom the sequel to this movie.”

And by god, he did.

We get a weirdly pointless movie in which Poe, SINGLEHANDEDLY, completely obliterates the Resistance. He first obliterates their bombers by failing to follow command, then goes and bitches about how he’s not put in command when he clearly shows no ability to understand how a military works, actively subverts orders which in turn obliterates the entire Resistance fleet until the only survivors can fit on the Millenium Falcon. They have no ships, no weapons, barely any people, and are ultimately doomed doomed doomed.

We have Finn’s weird subplot with a suddenly introduced character Rose in which the pair aid in Poe’s blowing up the resistance (they send sensitive information using the communication equipment of a guy they do not know, who fully admits to being shady and out for his own skin, and are flabergasted when he betrays them). 

Rose herself is this weirdly sweet person who seems forced into the plot to a) provide a love triangle for Finn and Rey b) provide this forced sunny outlook that I didn’t really need in the film.

We get Rey never really being trained, going into the Cave of Wonders for a few seconds, falling in love with Kylo Ren over weird Force Skype calls (where I did not need to see him shirtless, thank you film) and being horrifically betrayed when Kylo Ren turns out not to be a great guy. Never saw that coming, Rey. 

As for Kylo Ren, well... God, we get Emperor Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren, the Emperor. I’m not even that upset about the anticlimactic murder of Snoke (that was kind of funny, especially in the context of Palpatine going, “Bitch, please, you’re in my chair” immediately in the next film) but just Kylo Ren being emperor. And also that the Resistance only escapes at all because he’s so dumb he made their dumb plans seem smart (i.e. concentrates all his firepower on an illusion for ten minutes while Hux goes, “Emperor, sir, we could actually destroy the Resistance right now.”

Now, you’ll notice I didn’t complain about Luke. A lot of people are upset he became a grumpy, miserable, old hermit who sits around waiting for death. Frankly though, in this universe, that’s exactly where he is. He left “Return of the Jedi” thinking he’d saved the world, he’s resurrected the Jedi Order, and all is well. Only a decade later, his students are all murdered by his nephew, the Empire’s back, and he accomplished nothing. He’s an utter failure as a Jedi (though Luke never realizes he knew jack shit about the Jedi Order and was in way over his head but I guess that’s beyond him). Why shouldn’t he go sit on a rock and wait to die? 

Now, did he have to drink that blue dinosaur milk? Well, I guess it was funny, gross but funny so... Sure, I guess he did. But I do like that he gave Rey 0 training, they had one meditation session and then he whined about how Obi-Wan was such a stupid asshole. And then Rey ran off to be with her boyfriend, who then told her that her parents were gutter trash (which again, was funny, but I don’t think that was supposed to be funny).

Of the characters introduced in the movie, the only one I really liked was the hacker, and it was for the actor/the beautiful way in which he gracefully exited stage left with zero shame going, “You all knew I was going to betray you!” You beautiful man, you.

Rise of the Skywalker

First, when something is called “Rise of the Skywalker” you know you’re in for a rough time.

But anyways, TLJ was filled with a controversy Disney didn’t want (half their audience hated it, half loved it, but at least they sold those penguin dolls) so they desperately get Abrams back. Only, what he clearly wanted from his series has been shot to hell, and now he’s left with Emperor Kylo Ren, a completely obliterated Resistance, a dead Luke, a love interest he never planned to introduce for Finn, Rey’s parental crisis being solved with trash people, Snoke just suddenly dead, Hux planning revenge, and then some.

And so, Abrams goes the brave and hilarious route of shouting “PRETEND THAT LAST MOVIE NEVER HAPPENED”

We open to a fully functioning Resistance (their bomber fleet is back, their fleet period is back, they have all their fully trained personnel). We have Rey getting the Jedi training she needed this time from Leia, who is now a Jedi, because yay feminism rammed down my throat to make the audience feel better. Rose says “It’s cool guys, I don’t want to join the adventure this film, I’m going to stay here and work on robots” so that she can gracefully exit the entire plot. Kylo Ren is demoted from Emperor in two seconds when we discover that a) Snoke was apparently Palpatine b) for unexplained reasons Palpatine’s alive (and I am now convinced that man will never die). Kylo Ren tells Rey at the first opportunity that he lied about her trash parents AND REALLY SHE’S A PALPATINE! THIS WHOLE TIME, REY! THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT. I’M SUPER SERIAL THIS TIME, REY.

Basically, in the course of an overly long movie, Abrams desperately shoves in everything he was trying to get out of the series, while sobbing, and sobbing even harder when things like Finn being Force Sensitive or Lando having a secret daughter get caught. I actually agree with the Producers on this, by the way, the Finn trying to tell Rey something scenes were weird and indicative of a love triangle but him being Force Sensitive instead... It says a lot that the movies did not change when it was removed, at all. And Lando was just this strange cameo who was in the film to make us feel nostalgic.

And this isn’t even getting to the ridiculous 24 hour time limit (which made me think there should have been some video game style clock in the corner letting us know when Dawn of the Third Day is coming), Palpatine’s other secret army on a secret Sith planet that can be easily taken down by taking out one navigation tower, Rey’s hilarious struggle with the dark side in which she has a vision of herself in a cape hissing, Kylo Ren’s hilarious redemption in which the movie in the form of Leia and Han Solo says, “Alright, Ben, it’s time to stop being evil” and he says “okay”, the fight with Palpatine in which I’m supposed to believe he dies for reals because... I have no idea why I’m supposed to believe he’s dead. The Reylo, god the Reylo, and Kylo Ren’s tragic, hilarious, death.

And then, of course, the ending where Rey decides she’s a Skywalker now.

I actually did laugh all the way through “Rise of the Skywalker”, you can’t not, I mean it’s a hilariously awful movie. The only thing that might have made it more hilarious was if we actually did get those Ewoks.

TL;DR

They’re all bad movies, if you want more specifics than this, you’re just going to have to ask me questions.

[star-killer-md]

Dream A little Dream of Me Pt. 7

Welp. It’s been uh, a long fucking time. My only excuse is college is hard and also I’m lazy. Anyway, here she be. Thank you to everyone who continues to read this cause I need it to exit my brain and it’s incredibly nice to not just like, scream Kylo porn into the void. 

I hope y’all enjoy and feel free to leave me a comment or reblog or dm if you are so inclined. 

AO3 mirror

Part 8

Warnings: Inappropriate use of the Force, Force sex, angst, nsfw, y’all know the drill

Summary: In which answers are found. 

Ship: Kylo Ren x Negotiator!Reader

Word Count: 6.6k

The room smelled too sweet, the kind that lodged under your tongue and ached in your jaw. It made you long for the silence of your seaside room, made you strangely thankful that Kylo Ren often never filled it. But only for a minute. Because thinking of him reminded you of how you’d woken to an empty bed and cold, damp sheets and that you were certainly not thankful for. 

Meanwhile, Lem Alba seemed intrinsically compelled to do exactly the opposite. 

In fact, once he’d guessed you wouldn’t chew his head off every time he opened his mouth, it never closed again. You weren’t entirely sure if this annoyed or pleased you. But when Lem came to your door and invited you to brunch before all campaign staff were carted off back to the Federal District, you agreed. 

If only to avoid being left alone with your thoughts. 

“Not to grandstand,” Lem babbled between sips of his drink, “but I often feel some of my skills are wasted working just as a personal aide.” 

You glanced up from your plate and nodded, “I think most people in this profession tend to believe that. We’re all a bit insatiable.” 

He chuckled, soft voice melding perfectly with the chatter and bustle of the surrounding tables. You couldn’t help but think that Lem fit in well here, as much as he tried to deny it. His edges blended seamlessly with the velvet and silk background. It reminded you of when he’d plucked you right out of the crowd your first night here. 

“You First Order people have a way about you. Something in the way you stand a bit too straight.”

Something in the way you’re always waiting for the ball to drop. 

“Yes well, I’m not gunning for a power grab,” Lem sighed and rolled his eyes. 

He looked very much like a scorned child and you felt a twinge of remorse, “No, I didn’t think you were.” 

“It’s alright,” he ran a hand through his neat hair and stared at you over the rim of his glass, “I just get so bored of it all sometimes.”

“Mm, me too,” you said around a bite of some extravagant concoction that dripped embarrassingly down your chin. 

You thought of blood and saltwater rolling across your skin and quickly wiped it away with a napkin. 

“Really? I wouldn’t have thought that would be an issue for someone in your position.”

You had to try very hard not to scoff out loud, settling for a disbelieving raise of your eyebrows. Piles of paperwork taller than the Commander filled your head, glowering officers and incessant incident reports—your life nothing more than a series of other people's mistakes that somehow became your fault. Grey walls and meetings that never ended. 

Come to think of it, you’d been bored and tired and frustrated your whole life it seemed. Although, not so much anymore. Still just as exhausted and angry, but less like a pacing animal in a cage. The thought sat uncomfortably in your stomach as you wondered when exactly that had changed.  

Of course you already knew the answer. 

You always were attracted to things that kept you on your toes. 

“Should we discuss this speech I’m supposed to be giving?” you asked. 

If Lem noticed your less than subtle change in topic, he didn’t show it for which you were grateful. 

“Certainly,” he gestured for you to continue. 

“Well, I’ve had it outlined for quite awhile since the powers that be were oh-so specific about the subject matter,” you began, watching Lem grimace sympathetically. 

“Yes, I believe I’m meant to collect a draft from you by the end of the week.” 

The joints in your shoulders popped when you slumped forward, hanging your head against the weight of far too stringent deadlines.

“I’m well aware,” you sighed. “Normally I wouldn’t be so neglectful of the timeline, I’m just having a hard time...focusing.” 

The barely concealed mark on the curve of your neck throbbed as you recalled the massive, decadently handsome distraction that consistently occupied your workspace. Really, how were you expected to get any quality content produced with that dark, looming shadow always poisoning your mind with questions and completely inappropriate fantasy. 

Currently, your entire body seemed to constrict at the notion that it was no longer strictly a fantasy. Your muscles corded taught, pulling like a ruched seam and tugging painfully at the sinew. It felt almost as if you were a marionette with invisible strings controlled by equally invisible hands that tingled as they jerked you about. You got the distinct sensation that someone was watching you, but resisted the urge to turn and look. 

Lem—completely oblivious to your inner turmoil—perked up and offered you a blindingly white grin full of ramrod straight teeth. 

“I have an office I’m more than willing to loan out if you’d like to make use of it,” he said. 

You considered the idea, chewing on your lip. Maybe getting lost in speech writing would be good, you thought. Something easy, something formulaic would do wonders for taking your mind off, well, everything. 

“As long as you’re offering,” you flashed him a strained smile and went back to shuffling things around your plate. 

Lem continued to spew an endless stream of comfortingly meaningless ramblings and you bathed in the sound of it, looking up occasionally to offer a hum of acknowledgement. You didn’t really care what he was saying—whether it was opinions for opening lines or who you should thank first or what color to wear that he thought would bring out your eyes—but you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a friendly conversation with...anyone. 

So you let him talk, and nodded every once in a while and basked in the normalcy, the mundaneness of the scene. Until, of course, the peace was shattered when your server returned with a new cocktail for Lem, who promptly spilled it all over the table. 

You watched it unfold like the audience of a holodrama: the waiter, tall with an abundance of black curls and long fingers extending the glass, their hands touching for just an instant, the scarlet blush that tinted Lem’s ears when he glanced at the man’s face and stared transfixed even as the drink spilled off the table and onto his slacks. 

It felt very suddenly as if you were seeing something you shouldn’t be. 

But the moment ended quickly and quietly, fizzling out with a whimper as the waiter with all his curly hair frantically mopped up the mess. His voice was low and pleasant when he apologized and rushed off to get another drink mixed. 

For once, you had the urge to participate in the conversation. 

“Who’s that?” you asked, flicking your eyes up briefly and then back down to the wet mark on the table cloth. 

Lem shrugged and fiddled with the stain on his pants, “Nobody.” 

And for once, it seemed, he had nothing else to say on the matter. 

It was truly a challenge to keep the amused smile from splitting your cheeks as Lem so clearly tried and failed not to make a complete fool of himself every time said server returned to clear plates. And when a beautifully decorated fruit tart found its way to your table—decidedly marked as ‘on the house’—you were graced with an extraordinarily toothy, childish smile from your dining companion. 

Your chest ached with it, the display of reality. 

On your first night here, you’d thought Lem looked too much like all the other First Order officers you were forced to work with. Thought his hair was too perfect, his suit too pressed, words too cherry picked. 

But here you were again, getting drawn in by these stupid, simple instances of existence in relation to others. You craved the feeling of fading into the background as Lem stuttered whenever he tried to thank the boy with his curls and warm smile. 

It was strange too, to see that people truly did flush and brush hands and chew their lips and smile so freely. For whatever reason, you’d been under the distinct impression that was an exclusively fictional pursuit, saved for holofilms or storybooks. 

Did those things exist in you? Were there times when you’d fluttered the way Lem did now, cautiously stealing bites of his tart, trying to preserve the delicate design for as long as possible? Or had they atrophied and fallen to dust from disuse, nothing more than a vestigial organ, unnecessary and forgotten—ready to pump your body full of toxins at a moment's notice should it burst. 

And that only raised more questions. How incomplete had you been this whole time? How long had you been ignorant of your deficiency?  

And did it matter?

But that was not something you could ever answer. So, you sat back and watched and listened and breathed it in. 

Appreciated from afar this show of innocenceweakness.

You jolted in your seat, shoulders bunching together as if a hand had grabbed you from behind. The double voice rang out in your head, echoing up like it was shouted from the bottom of some pit inside you. You knew that voice though—would know it anywhere by now.  

It was him, of course it was. 

You could feel Kylo Ren like a shroud, a dampening of the outside world. When you listened closely, you swore you could hear the sound of crashing waves, the crunch of sand under boot heels. The smell of salt and skin and bloody water filled your nose. Your chest was burning, a prison for some roiling, angry creature that flung itself against the steel bars of your ribs.

His ribs.

His heartbeat, a pounding and ruthless tattoo.

His feet already moving in time to the beat, carrying him farther and farther— 

Is it? you shouted back.

The words tore at your throat even as you sat in silence at the table. But no response came, instead the chatter of the dining room returned and Lem tilted his head in concern, standing and gathering you up by the arms. 

He pulled you down the poshly ornamented halls, chattering still but shooting glances down more often with his brows furrowed. You let him lead you, thin arm looped around yours, back towards your quarters to ‘help you pack,’ he said. And you didn’t bother discouraging him. 

You already knew the room would empty. 

***

The meeting had been dragging on for quite nearly an hour already. You were seated at the far end of a comically long table staring off into oblivion, eyes having glazed over nearly ten minutes in when one of the relations staff started going on about color coordinating suits. 

Although, you were not completely tuned out. It was very hard to be when just a few seats away sat the Representative himself with his grotesque excuse for an advisor positioned at his right hand. Fortunately he hadn’t spared you a glance, but it was a challenge not to keep one eye on him at all times—to not consistently feel your calves twitch, ready to bolt through the nearest exit. 

You understood now what it must be like for all those prisoners sitting in the Finalizer’s belly—backed into the final corner, waiting for Kylo Ren to swoop in like a shadow and leave them flayed open to be tossed out with the rest of those who have outgrown their usefulness. 

You’ve been trying not to think too specifically about...him since you’d returned to the Federal District, your room here just as empty as the one by the sea. His shirt, the one you’d stolen was still packed neatly into your bags. You thought about throwing it away, or tossing it in the corner for him to find. But then you remembered the bits of torn up packaging and lace and that you would not sink to that level. Physical reminders aside, your head had been blessedly—or maybe concerningly—devoid of any voices that were not your own since your, well, ‘fight’ you supposed was the word for it at brunch. 

Then again, all you ever did with him was fight, but this felt different. 

There were plenty of reasons for the Commander to be angry with you, in fact, you didn’t think there could ever be a shortage. However, this seemed just a little too...petulant for your liking. 

You recalled some of Hux’s old rants. Generally, you’d just let him rave like you were just another piece of furniture in his office, stewing in the same hot, bubbling pot of indignation. You could hear him now:

“He’s a child, a sulking, immature youngling completely incapable of a single rational thought.”

And you finally understood what he meant. 

If only you were allowed to use the silent treatment, but that seemed to be a privilege only for those higher up in the food chain. 

Besides, you were far too classy for such elementary tactics. 

You spat the last words and hoped to the stars that wherever the hell Ren had run off to, he heard them. Which one of you was the weak one now?

It was Lem who pulled you from the dark, brooding hole you’d dug yourself as he caught your eye from across the table. The speakers were switching, a half-hearted applause ringing out in the cavernous room and he flashed you a quick roll of his eyes. You bit back a smile at the way he jumped when Gahl turned to rattle off some inane order and Lem scrambled to take a note down. 

Watching it reminded you of how he’d nearly leaped out of his suit when the waiter boy with curly hair brought by your plates. Jane was his name. You’d discovered it while Lem was helping you pack, happily filling the silence with how he was much too smart to be working as a server.

And as you thought, your traitorous mind led you inevitably back to the looming, black specter that haunted your every waking minute. You would be kidding yourself if you thought you could ever have given the Commander the cold shoulder when truly he was all you ever thought about. Even before, even if it was just to remember how much you despised him. 

Past tense now, you noted worriedly. What a terrifying concept. 

But your brain was moving quickly past that, tucking it away in some far, deep corner to only be touched on long nights when you were up far past the shift in day cycles. 

Now it was replaying your brunch, closing up on a still of Jane’s hand on the glass about to tumble, on the lip biting, starry eyed and heart pounding look in his eyes. And then he was changing, the skin of his hand growing lighter, milky and soft with scattered freckles. 

Then it was your hand reaching out. Your hand slipping on the glass and Kylo Ren—sweet smile on his face—staring down at you blushing like a ripe fruit in summer.  

His lovely crooked teeth flashed behind lips like pillows filled with the softest featherdown.  

The tips of his fingers brushed your hand, light and nervous in that not-quite-accidental way that should have made your heart leap into hyper drive. Kylo’s eye flicked down at the floor, downcast coyly and glancing every few seconds to catch you staring at the pink in his cheeks.

You watched the scene as if through water, some stark, salty barrier that coated him in a film of non-reality. You waited for the star shine look of his eyes to pull you in, waited to feel your hands shake and your pulse race and any number of other inane, fluttery things that you had seen Lem stumble through.

But the sight of it, the look on this man's face—because it was most certainly not Kylo Ren looking at you with honey eyes, sparkling shy dips of nectar—it was...

It was not at all what you’d thought. 

It was revolting. 

It was an antithesis come to life.

It made your skin crawl with the unnatural feeling of it all. 

Kylo Ren’s face was not built to look at you this way, did not contain sickeningly gentle smiles, his hands knew no soft brushes of fingertips.

No, they wielded saber blades and crushed bone and spilled blood.

They tangled in your hair and molded mottled fingerprints into your skin 

His lips were carved from marble that could not comprehend such an innocent up turning, unless it was to mock his opponent.

They sucked permanent brands of ownership into your skin, and made them throb when you thought of him. 

And that was all you would ever want him to do. 

As much as he roused the caged and angry beast that resided in your bones, as much as he lied and withheld and left you to wake alone—

You couldn’t bear this bastardized, cheap imitation that stared at you sweetly.

That was not your Commander. 

That was not your Kylo Ren.

And you would not have him any other way.

That thought sat heavy with you and called to life something in the depths of your being. A fire, red and electric sparked to life. You recalled the vision he’d shown you. Recalled his words echoing:

“All I see is a whore who has no idea what she’s getting herself into.” 

You felt yourself slip into the memory of his hands burying themselves in your flesh. The image of yourself—ruined, marked, and so clearly his—was crashing to the surface of your thoughts like whitecapped waves on a stormy sea. The ache in your neck returned, as though his hands were wrenching your head back to make you watch as he split you in half with his cock. You saw it in incredible detail, the veins of his length sinking into you to the hilt in one long roll of his hips. It stung and made your nerves sing with the pain of taking him. 

It was delicious. 

It fed you the pit inside you like meat thrown to a starving beast. 

This was how he was meant to be taken: painful in his beauty, lovely in his destruction. 

His skin was so warm when he pressed your back to his chest and growled in your ear: 

“So desperate for your Commander’s cock, aren’t you?” 

And yes, of course you were, of course you always were because really had you ever felt complete or whole without him filling you to the brim? But it wasn’t just his cock you needed buried in you. No, you craved him in a way that transcended your physical being. 

Separate. That’s what he told you, that there was something more to you than just your body that could exist outside of yourself, could slip into his head and find him even when you were dreaming. 

And you were desperate for the feeling of his thoughts. For his mind, for whatever it was that let you hear him whispering all the things he could never say aloud. 

His voice in your head was the only thing that soothed the churning in your guts, it was like salve on a burn, cooling like the mint of his breath. The steady beat of his blood the only thing that truly set you at ease. 

Yes, that was your Kylo Ren. 

Possessive and withholding, saying everything in brief glances and the twitch of of jaw. Complex and often painful and perfect. 

You wanted him that way.

And you needed to hear him. 

You couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

Kylo? 

The single word echoed across whatever void your mind was inhabiting, crosses bounds to seek out something on the other end. 

You waited and wanted and— 

And then you were not so alone in your head anymore.

But the meeting room was coming back into focus and everyone was staring directly at you. The large holoprojector in the table’s center showed the first, familiar graphics of your portion of the presentation. From across the table, Lem was staring at you, brows furrowed and questioning. 

“Right,” you said, making your way to the front of the room.

You felt as though you were back in the academy, bland and boring faces all staring up at your false smile. You tried not to focus on them too hard. “As the delegate from the First Order, I’ll naturally be making the announcement of endorsement. This will be submitted to Mr. Alba for review by the end of the week along with the Order’s formal statement of apology.” 

You nodded and the projection moved on, showing the next set of animations, “Now, as I said, these will be submitted at the end of this week, so if there’s any—”

There was a hand sliding up your thigh. It was distinct and massive and coated in leather, the feeling of it so incredibly acute under your clothing you almost choked in shock. But when you slapped a hand down, there was nothing but empty air. 

The crowd for the most part seemed not to have noticed your pause, too caught up in whispered conversations to the side or staring blankly at the tabletop, so you cleared your throat, “If there’s anything you’d like to be included that should be given to me by tomorrow evening at the latest.” 

Your heart was pounding in your chest, the pulse of it clear all the way to your fingertips. Taking a shaky breath you continued to go over the list of other asinine requests, falling easily into a familiar rhythm. Presentations like this were half your job back on the Finalizer. It was home turf, and you were able to flick on autopilot long enough too— 

What was that? you asked incredulously into the void of your mind

Silence echoed, and you glanced briefly around the room, though thankfully you’d looked down at your notes when the hand returned. This time much, much higher. The unmistakable feeling of leather catching on the edge of your panties made your jaw drop. 

You called. 

Kylo’s voice reverberated through your skull, his tone was blank but you could feel the strange mixture of amusement and annoyance that was not yours. It was irritating on a level you’d thought impossible. 

Well I’m a bit busy if you hadn’t noticed, you snapped, grinding your teeth when his disembodied scoff graced your ears. 

You’d think it might be one of the most alluring things you’d ever heard if the stares of so many faceless campaign staffers weren’t pinning you down at the same time.  

Hmm, he hummed, unconcerned or unbothered by whatever was going on outside of the little world that consisted of just the two of you. 

His hand—because that’s what it had to be, his hand, somehow—curled under the hem of your panties, ripping the elastic to the side where it dug painfully into your skin. 

Stop, you hissed it, spat the word at him and tried to will away the fingers that pulled the meat of your thighs apart. 

But they only spread your legs further, a rush of cold air hitting your cunt and tensing your stomach as his fingers drew up up up— 

You’ll just have to keep quiet, won’t you?

And, of course, since you’ve never been all that good about following orders, the second he plunged two, impossibly thick fingers deep into your pussy, your voice caught in your throat. The garbled half cough half moan half wounded animal cry made every head in the room turn to face you.

Even Atreus, whose dead, white blue eyes locked in on your face and never blinked.

You froze, struggling to recall your place as Kylo worked his unseen fingers father into you, coaxing a wave of slick heat to drip from your core. Your hands bunched into fists, nails digging crescent moon holes into the skin of your palm in an effort not to gasp when he hit that lovely spot inside and made your knees threaten to give out. 

Don’t stop, now. Unless you’d like them to know what a little whore you are, Kylo growled from somewhere deep inside you. 

You caught your breath, plastering a smile on your face and taking a sip from the glass of water being offered to you. 

“My apologies, where was I?”

Shuffling through your notes, you picked up where you’d left off with proper terms to use when addressing members of the Order. You tried not to move, focusing squarely on the projection and schooling your expression—at least you hoped you were. Atreus’ stare never left you now. Like he could smell the lie on your face. Or the way your pussy gushed with ever renewed thrusting of Kylo’s leather fingers, the ridges creating a sinful drag against your walls. 

Well if I’m a whore then what are you? 

From whatever corner of your mind he was lurking in, Kylo chuckled softly. 

Much worse, he mused. 

You bit back a scream when his thumb found your clit, rubbing swift circles with the smooth material. 

But in your head, your voice rang free, and you let out the string of curses you’d been holding back, voice cracking into a whine when he added a third finger. And just as he spread you open, scissored your entrance and glided against your walls, something else opened too, gaped wide and you spilled into it.  

You could see him, but it was a different him, from a different time, walking the halls of the Finalizer. His boots ran out against the durasteel until they came to an abrupt halt and silence filled the corridor. There was a slight tremor in his hand, a minuscule shaking as he gripped his thigh and fell back against the wall, breath coming heavy through his mask. 

It was practiced, the movement of his hand that fumbled with the layers of his robes until his cock sprang free, hard and leaking and with a lovely red flush to the head. Your mouth watered at the sight of his hand stroking long and fast along the shaft, thumb teasing his tip and collecting the little beads of precum that glistened there. 

This is what you do to me, he said. I hear all of it. Every thought you have. I hear how badly you want my cock pounding into you and my hand on your throat and— 

He groaned in your head, the same way you knew he must have in whatever memory you were viewing. Distantly, you could just barely feel the movement of his hand as he jerked himself, hips bucking up into his fist. 

You were not faring much better. The words kept tumbling out of your mouth, sometimes trailing off on a particularly hard thrust of his fingers. Your head spun with this new confirmation. He’d heard all of it. Every frustrated thought, every time you’d goaded him in meetings and hallways and when you’d lie awake— or not so awake—and think about how much you maybe, probably, almost certainly didn't hate him. Not that you hadn’t known, that he could hear you. Not that you hadn’t suspected that it had always been him, not some imaginary replication. That was very clear, but now. Now you had the truth. Now you knew for certain. 

Kylo Ren had always been more than just a dream. 

For so long he had watched you crumbling from afar and said nothing.

And who knew how long he intended to keep you in the dark. 

If there wasn’t a target on your back right now, would you have ever found out?

Kylo, you gasped the words in your head as his thumb sped up in its rhythm on your clit and his fingers stroked your walls, what is this?

You needed to know. You deserved to know. 

And you could feel the words. They were there, right on the tip of his lovely pink tongue, about to find their way past the crooked edges of his teeth, lips loose in the pleasure of you. But the burst of white that clouded your vision and finally made your knees buckle drowned out any truth he may have spared you. Your combined releases flowed thick like heavy metal through your veins as you felt the pulse of him slowly fading from your mind, slipping from your grasp. 

Your hand shot out to grab the table edge, holding yourself upright as everything in your mind went blessedly, horribly quiet and the room grew much louder. Time was unclear to you. The projections showed you’d managed to get through over half of your presentation, but you called none of it. 

Lem was standing up now, walking briskly over to you with a hand on your back and another under your elbow. The fingers in your cunt had disappeared, leaving you feeling empty and cold as your slick stuck to the inside of your thighs. 

“Ah, I believe our financing presentation is up next,” Lem called out, motioning quickly for the team to take over and leading you back to your seat. 

When you were safely sat back in the chair, you felt his stiffly gelled hair brush your cheek. It smelled overpoweringly of apricots and vanilla. Too sweet. 

“Are you alright?” he whispered. 

The concern in his voice was evident, but you were lost in the past few minutes and too frustrated by the silence in your head to appreciate it. 

“Fine,” you mumbled back and turned your head back to the blank table. 

You didn’t look at him as he rushed back to his place by Gahl, who’s gaze never shifted your way. Unlike his advisor. Even now the slip of a man in his dark suit and red tie stared at you down his nose like it was the barrel of his blaster. 

Like he was taking aim. 

You swallowed and tried to go back to that space where time did not exist and your head was not so empty, but it didn’t not come. 

Instead, you sat and listened and hoped you wouldn’t leave a damp spot on the cushions when you left. 

***

There were a lot of rules in negotiations. 

The First Order made sure its best and brightest had them all carved onto the backs of their hands before they ever set foot in the situation room. When you closed your eyes, you could see the words flashing in your mind. You knew them better than you knew yourself. But maybe that wasn’t really saying much. You’d been discovering quite a lot of personal details recently you weren’t previously aware of. 

Though, that was besides the point now. 

Now all you could think of was that the number one rule to a successful negotiation, was to always know more than your opponent. 

Knowledge was your strength, knowledge was your red crackling lightsaber, knowledge was your fist closed, throat crushing Force. 

That was how you came out on top, by constantly keeping the upper hand—by always having an ace in your metaphorical back pocket. 

But right now, you were losing.

And the frustration of it was going to consume you. 

Because you didn't know what or how or why Kylo Ren was in your head. In fact, you weren’t even sure if it was your head he was in. It felt much deeper than that now. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep him out. Whatever you’d done, whatever you’d let in that night on the sand with the sea standing witness, you would never be able to take it back. 

Kylo Ren was a liar. That you knew, because you were a liar too. 

Knowledge was your power, but lies were your currency. They were what you traded at the table, they were what slipped the easiest from your tongue and made sure you walked away from a deal with more than you’d come in with. 

And Kylo Ren was not in the business of negotiations, so there was nothing you could ever offer that would pry his jaw open and spill all his secrets. Nothing that could persuade him to tell you what exactly had taken root in your chest when you’d accepted him, took him inside and wanted to keep him there. 

But you needed to know. 

The desire to understand consumed you and every thought in your head. The same head that found itself clunking against a new desk in a new office with the same unending dissatisfaction. 

Lem had left you a few hours ago, setting you up in his workspace with a glass of water and a concerned smile. You knew you were being unnecessarily rude to him, and had you been less shaken, you might have felt some guilt over it. 

Now you were staring up at your datapad, document resolutely blank, and unable to think of anything other than the way Kylo’s skin reflected the light off the ocean or how his hair curled into little ringlets when it was soaked through and dripping onto your face and— 

You groaned, knocking your forehead into the desktop and squeezing your eyes shut against the barrage of images and the strange, uncomfortable ache they incited. You rested your head on your arms and tried to block out the light of the office, let yourself drift and tried to recall...well what you weren’t sure. 

The Force always seemed so far away, so fantastical that you weren’t ever truly convinced it was real. Not until you’d seen it first hand, watched the bodies of countless ‘troopers dragged from the hallways with not a mark on them. It simply wasn’t something anyone talked about, not at the Academy, and certainly not when you started working under Hux. 

It was...energy, you knew that much. And it was in everything, everyone you supposed, though stronger some than others. You knew it could be used for more than just making objects float around, although for what other purposes you weren’t entirely certain. It certainly wasn’t something you’d ever been able to use. 

But you thought it must have a hand in this, whatever it was that let you see, hear, taste, feel the Commander even when he was so far from you. Somewhere deep in the dusty corners of your mind, you knew that this would always be the case from now on. That even with light years in between, he’d only ever be a hair's breadth away—a whisper of his name or a beat of your heart. 

It was hard to swallow that notion. Hard to comprehend that you would never be alone in your skin. Never would you feel so lacking. What a cruelty, you thought, that it had taken so long. That you had been born into this world incomplete. Your Commander would call that a weakness, but really wasn’t he just as unfinished as you. There was still some gap in him waiting to be filled.

So, then, why couldn’t you find him like he could find you?

You didn’t have the gifts he did, you couldn’t make doors fly from their hinges or break bone with just a twitch of your fingers. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe it always would be. 

Voices from the hall broke you from your stupor. Two of them, the first old and grating, the second slick like oil that left a bad taste in your mouth—the representative and his advisor. You’d recognize them anywhere now. 

“...well I’d say that a drink is in order,” Gahl was saying, trailing off as they walked further from Lem’s office. 

“Sir, we shouldn’t be leaving—”

Atreus spoke that time, the sound of it trickling like cold water down your spine. Thankfully, the representative spoke over him. 

“Lem is here, he’ll take care of things.”  

A hand slapped the closed door currently keeping you hidden as they passed. You stayed still at the desk until the footsteps had completely petered out, listening to the expensive click of their hard soles die away into silence. Until now it had not occurred to you how close they were. How close the blade was to striking. You let out a breath and looked around. Everything seemed a bit more foggy than usual. Then, from across the room, you heard it—a soft creaking. And when you looked up, the door to Lem’s office was slowly falling open on its hinges. 

Like it was pulled by some invisible hand. 

And you felt the same tugging, the same formless compulsion, the same ghosting over your flesh. 

Across the hall, another door was drifting open by degrees, revealing a meticulously kept office with a shiny gold name plate:

Atreus.

Slowly, you let yourself be pulled—a puppet on strings—walking noiselessly across the corridor. In the doorway you paused, staring at the intricate black lettering. You wanted answers, and something told you this is where you’d find them. 

Into the belly of the beast. 

You took a careful step over the threshold, the air honey-thick and clinging to your skin. The office was spotless, not a paper out of place as you circled around the massive desk and ran your hands up the array of drawers. Each one was furnished with an ornate golden handle that glimmered in light from the hall. 

To your right, a drawer slid open just an inch or two. You watched, eyes wide, as it shuttered of its own accord out of place. And your hand similarly seemed to have a mind of its own, reaching out to grasp the handle and reveal it’s contents. 

Inside, nestled atop of a stack of folders was a small, black notebook. At first glance, it seemed innocuous. Not many people used pen and paper these days. But then the space around it started to shimmer, locking your gaze until the world outside it turned hazy. Shaking, your hand reached out fingertips brushing the leather bound cover. You bit your lip, teeth worrying the flesh as you sat on the floor and pulled the book into your lap. The ragged edges of each page caught on your nails when you flipped them open. 

Written in small, messy scrawl, was page upon page of notes. Words ran off the lines, and continued through the margins, most too minuscule or smudged to be legible. Multiple times, the Commander’s name was scratched in between sentences, angry obsessive markings that made your eyes sting. But you kept skimming, letting your hand be guided along. 

Until suddenly the pages stopped turning. 

And you stared down in horror. 

In the awful, disgusting script, was your name circled, underlined and bolded at the top of the paper. Thin, curving, inked arrows drew lines across the other mismatched text and you slapped a hand over your mouth to stifle the grating, garbled sound that threatened to escape your chest. 

There, the words stood out clear as day among the mess of lines.  

Bond. 

Your brain hadn’t even begun to register the implications of this, but you knew. 

This was the answer you’d been searching for. 

And you had no time to process it, because footsteps from the hall were approaching, quick and hard soled. Your eyes went wide and you scrambled to close the drawer and shove the book into your jacket pocket. Knees tearing on the carpet, you tucked yourself into the space under the desk and held your breath. 

Silence rang out in the tiny room. 

From outside, you heard the footsteps grow louder, closer, and finally come to a halt right in the doorway. 

Taglist lovelies: @couldntfuckingtellya @contesa-lui-alucard @thewilddingleberries @isaxhorror @cowboy-kylo @findyourdarkness @kit-jpg @shesakillerkween @obsessionprofessional

[shamelessllamapeanutthing]

Ships and Feels about them

HUGE self-indulgent post but my brain is frozen and I need to get the juices flowing so I can start studying, because if I don’t get into the college I want I just might have to kill myself and then y’all can say bye-bye to your fav fics by your majesty. 

YoruSoi- status: worSHIPPING (geddit? XD) them like the goddesses they are

I regularly play Wicked Ones by Dorothy and just imagine these two tag-teaming against their opponents, like the crazy, badass, ninja lesbians they are. It fucking gives me goosebumps and makes me blush like I am imagining them rawing each other instead. I am a big time SUCKER for powerful, cut-throat wlw. They make me feel powerful by extension, and my devotion for these two is completely unparalleled. 

VictUuri- status: will protect them with my life  

First of all, I love how layered and interesting they are. I can think about this show and this ship for hours and hours on end ( @feastingonvicturi will vouch for that). I naturally gravitate towards angsty ships and writing (because I am a weird sado-maso cross, what can I say) except for these two fluffy bastards. I had been putting off watching YOI because of the weird things I had read about ‘yaoi’ animes (IK YOI is not yaoi, now) till someone told me how pure and deep their love for each other was and welp, here we are. 

RenRuki- status: comfort ship I’ll defend till death

It was one of my first ships and even as I multi-shipper, I always had a preference for them. Childhood-friends-to-lovers trope tugs on my heartstrings like little else and Renji’s devotion towards Rukia warms my heart. I hear them in nearly every song, imagine them in every scenario I read or write about and even though I have multiple ships I adore involving Rukia and Renji both, the two together is everything to me. (Presently obsessed with the amazing hcs and art by @recurring-polynya you might wanna check them out)

KaiRay- status: heart is taking a break, but remains firmly attached

I got into Beyblade BECAUSE of this ship, because of the moments these two shared in V-Force that I caught glimpses of when my younger siblings were watching the show. I love Kai and Ray’s dynamic and I guess what attracts me the most to this ship is the fact that as a teenager I was exactly like Kai and had my own personal Ray who got me through the worst in life. I love the sense of sweet nostalgia this couple brings me and I believe they are perfect for each other. 

MariahEmily- status: coffee shop AU, anyone? 

I was HUGE on MariahxRay but strong, stylish, kinda bitchy, dumb thot falling for the highly educated and fierce lady boss she doesn’t really know how to approach is another one of my favourite tropes, (see: PansMione, down under). I saw them interact and due to personal reasons my brain rejects petty rivalry between girls (because we’re all tired of that, children, be honest) and immediately tries to fix it in fanon. ( @trashyartz  and her beautiful drawings had a lot to do with fanning these flames.) 

ShunUki- status: want them to adopt me

Need I say more? No, but I wanna. I love the steady, secure vibes of this ship. This is the one ship I physically can’t write angsty shit about because of the level of understanding and sense of comfort these two share. They give me kind and strong dad vibes and I have emotionally been an orphan since I was in my early teens so. 

WolfStar- status: they’re canon, JKR can suck my toes

Fucking TERF 

Listen, listen, have you been listening? I mentioned I am a sucker for angst, right? Are you looking at the angst potential here, cause wow. What originally attracted me to this ship was the Chemistry between the two, cause it’s undeniable. You can NOT imagine Maurauders’ Era without imaging these two pining over each other. It’s impossible. 

PansMione- status: toxic and problematic, but oh so hot

I got on this ship because I was craving some quality wlw ships. You guys’ I can not explain to you how often female characters in shows and books do not pass the Bechdel test and I stumbled on some gorgeous PansMione art and just fell in love. IK this ship is hella problematic, but I am firm on my stance that the baby Slytherins deserve a redemption arc. 

Can you imagine these two after Pansy realises everything she did wrong and vows to be better? I imagine Hermione stumbling on a hurt and confused Pansy in year 8, who can’t stop her tears from flowing and is so ashamed of herself for that. She is feeling guilty and resisting the emotion with everything she possesses because the world she’d always known has crumbled down around her and everything she believed in has now been proven to be wrong. 

She lashes out at Hermione because how dare that smart, gorgeous, courageous girl also be everything Pansy once thought she was? How dare she, a muggleborn, unravel the complicated threads of the wizard world so quickly, so efficiently, and clearly see what Pansy never could? Pansy is hurt and guilty and angry and she hates the fact that fucking Granger of all people has now witnessed her crying. 

She feels lost and her anger only rages louder when Hermione doesn’t gloat or belittle her, she doesn’t say anything. 

(Why is this turning into a ficlet, WHAT) 

Anyways, Pansy gets over herself and she and Hermione get together and oh my god, imagine them then. Smart, powerful, righteous Hermione taking the fucking Wizarding World by a storm every single day with her sexy, vivacious, clever Pansy by her side. They’d be unstoppable and they’d love each other something fierce. It would show in the way they look at each other, with a sense of victory, not only over Voldemort but over the entire Wizarding society that had done everything it could to tear them apart, and ultimately failed. 

(BONUS: Imagine Ron and Harry being utter dorks when they go to Pride parades with Hermione and let the image cleanse your skin and soul. @feastingonvicturi @trashyartz one of you (or both?) needs to collab with me so I can write a fix it fic for these two, please. I will pledge my soul to the devil to be used and abused as per Trashy’s whims in exchange. Taura will do it cause she’s my best friend and loves me more than I deserve to be loved.)

(In conclusion, I adore every single one of these ships and am willing to slice a bitch’s throat to protect their honour. Except for YoruSoi, they are fictional characters IK but I am convinced they do not need anybody’s protection, least of all this dumb fuck’s and just might laugh at the very idea.) 

Also, feel free to reblog or comment with rants about your own ships even if they go directly against mine. More love to you if you expand on the ships I mentioned here myself. Tell me about your poison of choice, go ahead. 

But if any one of you dares to send hate to any of my ships, please know that I am something of a God in my own capacity and will smite you with my preferred weapon of choice i.e. blindness in the face of adorable puppies or kittens (in pictures, videos, art, real life or otherwise). Beware. Let people love what they love.

[undertalethingems]

Bark at the Moon, Chapter 3: Lost Patience

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Or read on my Ao3>

Rating, Setting: Gen, Pre-canon

Chapter Warnings: None

Chapter Summary: Reunited, the brothers try to get things back to normal. Sans thinks going back to where it all started holds the answer... but it’s never so simple.

Nearly a month had passed since Sans had retrieved his brother from his self-imposed exile. Despite wracking their brains and recalling trials no creature should have endured, neither had gotten any closer to remembering or rediscovering anything useful, and the stress was taking its toll. Papyrus collapsed from lack of sleep one day, and only reluctantly explained he was avoiding nightmares after Sans uncharacteristically snapped at him. They’d had their disagreements over the years, but this was the worst in a series of fresh spats that had erupted in the brothers' household as frustrations mounted. Sans hated it, maybe even more than Papyrus did.

He was supposed to be the chill guy who stayed calm no matter what... But he'd found himself in increasingly bad moods as time went on. It was getting hard to be as friendly as usual when he went out, and though no one had said anything they were starting to notice. Passers-by would give him a bit more space if they crossed his path, and the other regulars at Grillby's were hesitant to joke with him as much as usual.

And then one night, he was awoken by his brother and found he’d punched a series of holes in the wall with a bone attack in his sleep. So he’d started avoiding sleep too. His mind buzzed with too many thoughts anyway as it tried to find a solution. He didn't care too much what happened to him--not while Papyrus was stuck like this. All that mattered was making sure he could be happy again.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, brother, but you need to rest,” Papyrus begged him one afternoon as he stubbornly read a book on magical theory. “You look terrible, and I think it’d be for the best in this instance.”

“what’d be best is if we could get this figured out. i’m not gonna let you be forced to live as what he wanted you to be,” Sans retorted, eyes fixed on the page in front of him, and Papyrus made a worried hum.

“Well, yes, that would be ideal, but, I think at the moment it’s best you, er, returned to your lazy ways and got a nap.”

Sans stiffened and didn’t answer for a while. “… bro. we escaped that place and got him back for everything he did to us. knowing you’re stuck as something you never wanted to be, something you shouldn’t have to be… i can’t rest until you’re free to be who you want again. y’know?”

“Oh Sans…” Papyrus sighed, “I really appreciate how much effort you’ve put into this. It’s… more than I expected, if I’m honest, and it means a lot to me. But I don’t want you making yourself sick, or, hurting yourself somehow, or—or anything of that nature, so please, go take a nap. The book will still be there when you wake up.”

“yeah, and i’m reading it now. aren't you always saying sleep's a waste of my time?”

“Sans... I, um, think I may have been slightly. Wrong. About that. Because you without sleep is not a very good version of you. I hate to do this, but... please go sleep. If not for yourself, then… for me?” Papyrus pleaded, tilting his head sadly.

“... ok,” Sans finally conceded. He flipped the book shut, slid from the table and trudged up to his room—but not to sleep. That had been a lie. He waited, listened to Papyrus nervously approach and hover around his door for a few minutes before slowly returning downstairs, then took a shortcut into the abandoned, sealed-off section of the labs in Hotland.

He was glad he was a skeleton as he inhaled stale air a monster with real lungs would have suffocated in and stalked through the pitch-dark halls, his way illuminated by his eyes alone. Turning corners and passing ragged, deteriorating equipment, he indulged the flashbacks that followed him through the facility. It was worth pursuing whatever memories surfaced, even when they were painful, on the off chance it'd unlock what he needed. He’d done this before, another time when Papyrus thought he’d been napping, and put together more of what had happened to them here. Days of tests, procedures he'd never understand, harsh words that left him aching even now, years later, after he'd failed to meet some expectation. It all would be worth it if only he could remember the right thing.

He mostly seemed to remember the wrong things. He shut his eyes against the apparatus that had once drilled into his magic and stretched it so thin he thought he’d shatter right then and there; his fingertips itched at the memory of claws and he rubbed them in his palms, grounding himself on his blunt digits. He’d once been so comfortable in that other form, once believed that man and his claims he was no more than an animal, and it had taken so much fighting—mainly on Papyrus’ part—to help him reclaim everything he could be. And after everything that had happened, somehow a dead world and its ghosts were threatening to unravel all they'd done to bury it.

Sans flicked his wrist, and the apparatus shattered under artificial gravity. He wondered why he hadn’t done that before—maybe some lingering fear of retribution. He left the splintered metal and plastic behind, idly considering what else of this hateful place he could smash. Turning the corner, he came to a vaulted room lined with large cisterns that had been the holding tanks for living weapons as they grew. Only two had ever released successful constructs—before that, who knew what had met its end before it lived.

“YOU’LL NOTE THE SUBJECT APPEARS TO BE WELL-BUILT, WITH A STURDY AND ELABORATE BONE STRUCTURE,” the man said, gesturing at him, “BUT UNFORTUNATELY, LOOKS ARE DECEIVING. AS YOU CAN SEE, ALL BASE STATS ARE SEVERELY STUNTED. SPECIAL CARE MUST BE TAKEN IN ALL CASES OF HANDLING AND TESTING TO MITIGATE RISK OF FRACTURE AND METAPHYSICAL FAILURE. RESEARCH WITH THIS SUBJECT WILL BE OVERSEEN BY MYSELF AT ALL TIMES. VIOLATORS... CAN CONSIDER THEIR CAREER TERMINATED. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?”

Sans grimaced at the unbidden memory, the thought of being seen as an object leaving a slimy feeling in its wake. Even when he’d worn that form, he’d been more than that, he’d been a person in his own right. That man had thought because he’d made them it gave him the right to control them, to coax and prod them in equal turns until they became what he wanted them to be. He’d nearly won, but Papyrus—oh Papyrus, the best thing this place had ever produced, undeserving of all it had done to him—had seen through his manipulation and come through. And now he needed someone to come through for him.

Sans left the tank room behind, resisting an urge to tear it all down with blue magic. He needed to poke a little further, push a little deeper. He'd make this place give up its secrets, but he could feel his patience wearing thin. He was running out of ideas, too. Maybe if he shifted, he could work out what to do from there? No, that would be—

“NO. IF YOU WANT TO TEST WITH YOUR… BROTHER TOMORROW, YOU WILL CHANGE BACK THIS INSTANT. SHIFT NOW.”

Something in Sans’ soul wrenched free, and he staggered, doubled over, clutching at face and chest. If he’d been well-rested, if he’d been his usual laid-back self, maybe he could have resisted the way he had a month before. But worked up by both past and present, he was too out of sorts to quell the power tearing through him; he only had the presence of mind to shortcut home as his body warped and became what he’d tried so hard to fight.

It was the buildup to the final romantic scene in Metatons's latest soap opera when Papyrus’ viewing was interrupted by a rounded form appearing in front of the TV and landing on the floor with a thud.

“Sans!” he barked, trying to stay focused on the show, “you’ve got to stop using shortcuts in your sleep! One of these days you’re going to—Sans?”

Papyrus stared at his brother’s prone form. He didn’t like how still he was. And he especially didn’t like how he was no longer round and friendly, but round and spiky.

The romance was forgotten as Papyrus leapt from the couch to shake his brother’s shoulders, words catching in his throat. Not Sans too, not again, surely this was a bad dream only it was Sans who wasn’t waking up. He whimpered, and looped an arm under him to drag him to the couch and curl around him. How often had he done this when they’d shared only a bare cell, how many times had he feared that last round of tests had finally done his brother in? How long would their past hold them captive?

Sans awoke with a start the next day, sometime mid-morning. Papyrus watched him rise blearily and stumble over unfamiliar feet onto the carpet; his eyes came to rest on the hands he’d caught himself with, and he slumped to the floor completely. After a silence that stretched on for minutes, he spoke.

“welp. sorry bro. i messed up. guess that’s the last time i try hard on anything ever...”

“Oh Sans, don’t say that!” Papyrus cried, getting up himself to roll his brother over. “Come on, now it’s even more important we work to solve this most elusive of riddles! As outlandish as it may seem, maybe you’ll have even more success than me! Come on, it's already late in the day--let’s have breakfast and then we’ll get to work.”

Sans only groaned. “i want grillby’s… but i can’t go to grillby’s like this… i’ll never have grillby’s again…”

“Sans! Cease your dramatics!” Papyrus demanded. “We have toast, which is perfectly good breakfast fare and certainly better than some grease-drenched horror! I’ll even make it for you since you probably have to learn how to use deadly claws again.”

Sans moaned from his place on the floor, and Papyrus left him to get started. As he waited for the toaster to warm up, he grabbed his phone and delicately entered Undyne’s number. He was getting much better at using his own deadly claws for fine motor skills again--it was one thing he was proud of in all this mess. After a few rings, Undyne picked up.

“Hey Papyrus! How’s it going?” she asked cheerfully, and he hesitated on what to say.

“Greetings, Undyne! Everything is going well! But I called to let you know that Sans won’t be able to work today. He’s, sick,” he replied, wondering if it was really a lie as his brother continued to rest limply on the floor in the next room.

“I take it you guys still haven’t made any progress, huh?” Undyne asked sadly, and he sighed.

“None. We’ve almost made backwards progress, really.”

“Ah geez, well, I know you won’t but don’t give up! And kick your brother’s butt into gear too, I’ve seen what happens when you let him slack off and it’s not pretty. Hey, I KNOW! I’ll stop by later tonight, how about that?”

Papyrus’ mind raced; it’d be no good if Undyne found out Sans had changed too. “Oh! Well! That would be okay! But my brother will probably be asleep and totally unavailable for interaction.”

“Nope! He’s not getting out of socializing THAT easily!” Undyne quipped brightly. “I’ll see you punks tonight!”

She hung up, and Papyrus was left staring blankly at his phone. Once Undyne had decided on something it was very hard to talk her out of it. He had to think fast or they’d get the chewing out of their lives and more questions than either of them wanted to answer. It was better the world didn’t know about their abilities and the man who thought he’d play god.

The toaster popped, and in an instant it was pierced by a bone. Sparks showered from the ruined appliance, and Papyrus slowly sat, staring at what he'd done. All this tension was getting to him, and he sighed. He stood, shaking his head. He could only feel frustrated with himself as he salvaged what he could of breakfast from the wreckage. He was better than this! He had the best control out of anyone Undyne knew, and he knew she was telling the truth—not a half-truth or white lie some people felt they needed to tell him to soften a world he’d already seen the sharp edges of. Undyne was guilty of that, and even Sans was, but he forgave them. They were trying to keep him safe and happy, and he appreciated that much, but he wasn't a child and it had worn on him for years.

At least Sans was doing it less now, after they'd spent the last month admitting what had happened to them back in the lab. Papyrus was certain, though, there were still things he was hiding from him. The fact he’d either transformed in his sleep, or not been sleeping and doing something he shouldn’t while pretending to sleep was proof enough of that. Huffing another short sigh, Papyrus glanced out to the living room, saw his brother was still on the floor, and put the two ragged slices of toast on a pair of plates and brought them out wearing his best smile.

“Well, we’ll need a new toaster but I’ve managed to prepare a simple one-course meal to tide us over until lunch. Up and at ‘em, brother!”

Another groan, but at least Sans slowly propped himself up. “hey, it’s not burnt. see bro, you’re improving all the time.”

“Indeed! I’ll be renowned cook and Royal Guardsman very soon!”

The rest of their meal was quiet—mostly on account of it being so short—and after brushing crumbs from his mandible Papyrus stretched and stood at his full height. “Alright, brother! We have until evening to finally make a breakthrough and pretend none of this ever happened! So! Get those mental bones shakin’!”

“… just don’t see what we could do differently. we’ve thought of everything,” Sans mumbled, sinking back to the floor. “i oughta just accept my fate.”

“No, I won’t let you,” Papyrus refuted, picking him up by his ragged hoodie with one hand. “You were right, earlier. It’s not fair for us to still be at the mercy of our past in this way. I’m even thinking, that, maybe it was bad we stopped being all of what we are… because we should be proud! No other monster can do what we do, and we are monsters! Not weapons like he wanted us to be—never like he wanted us to be. We should take back this part of us, because it never wasn’t a part of us.

“We’re going to change back, but, maybe it’s not a thing that can be forced. Not anymore. We’ve… accepted there’s a lot we can’t change, haven’t we? So, perhaps, this is. One more thing. We can accept…? We'll keep working! But! Not be so hard on ourselves if we don't get it right away.”

Sans blinked slowly at him. “bro… you’re so cool. if anyone can own this, it’s you. i just… yeah, i like bein’ that other shape, a lot more than i like being this one, but… i dunno. i think deep down i know… this was what i was always supposed to be. so... i'm accepting that.”

Papyrus gave him a very long, sad look. Slowly, he turned, and walked to lay Sans on the couch before joining him, and Sans eyed him warily the whole time. Judging by the look on his face, Sans regretted saying what he had.

“Sans,” Papyrus began, “I know he always wanted you to only be this way, and just be an animal. He never let you change, don’t think I didn’t notice! I think, in your rounder, friendlier form, it reminded him… that you were so weak? And you know how he hated, er, failure… His! His failure. He made us, so anything we’re bad at is his fault! Nyeh!”

Sans huffed a short laugh.

“In any case! You are just as entitled to owning all of who you are as I am! You are just as smart, and kind, and friendly and everything else in this form as you are in the other, even if it is easier to be all of that in the one you're not in now. And no matter what, just know that I love you, and nothing could ever change that!”

“… of course bro. right back at ya.”

But Papyrus could tell Sans didn’t really believe him. Or, it wasn’t that he didn’t believe him—it was more that he didn’t believe in himself, and that had been the hardest thing to work through as they’d put their lives together. Sans had never really done anything wrong, but he’d often done things in ways the man hadn’t liked—they both had, really, but somehow Sans always got the worst of it. He was too clever, too eager to take shortcuts and do things his own way. It wasn’t fair then, and it wasn’t fair now. All the more reason to work extra hard on mastering the quirks of their beastly forms all over again.

"Well, you think about it for a while, and I'll keep trying my way!" Papyrus conceded, leaving his brother to sit in the middle of the living room. They had to keep trying...!

He went through every method he’d thought of again, calling on his reserves of magic, remembering how it felt to walk on two legs and not have claws or a tail, to no avail. He even meditated for a while, and that was hard to do when he always had so much to think about. Sans had fallen asleep on the couch—which wasn’t so surprising as it was annoying. He'd told him to think of a solution--he’d never change back if he just slept all the time! Papyrus shook his head with a huff, and reached out to jostle him awake.

Fangs snapped inches from Papyrus’ forearm, and he leapt back with a yelp. Sans’ eyes focused, and widened as he realized what he’d done. Wordlessly, he began trembling, and buried his face in the couch cushions; Papyrus bounded back to his side and gently patted his shoulder.

“Brother, it’s okay, I startled you. I know you don’t want to hurt me,” he comforted, trying to nuzzle the face still wedged as deeply into the old cushions as it would go.

“i—i thought you were him, i wanted to—i wanted to snap your arm,” Sans admitted in a quiet, panicked rush. “i’m sorry papyrus, i’m sorry. you were right, i shoulda just napped, i shoulda stayed here and just been my lazy old self, instead i’m this and i’ll never not be this again. i just… i’m just gonna give up now, get it over with…”

“No Sans, you can’t! Yes, you should have stayed here, but we’ll get you turned back! We’ll both turn back, and be who we want to be again, just like I told you! I know we can! I believe in us!” Papyrus assured him, trying not to sound desperate. “Truly, it’s okay brother. Come out of there, you’ll never get who knows what out of your sutures.”

But Sans only groaned softly. With a worried huff, Papyrus grasped his brother’s skull and pulled it free. Sans offered no resistance as he was curled up and encircled by a blanket, and then his brother’s bony form; Papyrus knew he should have been continuing his work, but if he was honest he couldn't think about it at all. Sans was too close to letting himself go.

“Alright Sans, we’re going to rest,” he spoke as he folded his forelimbs under his chest. “But it can’t be for long! Undyne’s coming over and we have to be ready.”

There was no reply. Papyrus laid his head down next to his brother’s, tried not to think about how miserable he looked, and found himself drifting off after a while. Maybe some rest really was in order. He curled a bit tighter around his brother, and let his eyes close.

They snapped open when heavy knocking sounded on the door. Oh no.

“Hey Papyrus, open up! It’s hang-out time!” Undyne called, sounding cheerful. Papyrus leapt from the couch, which startled Sans awake. He blinked sleepily, then snapped into alertness when he realized what was going on. And in a blink, he was gone.

Papyrus groaned. He hoped Sans hadn’t gone too far, but at least it solved the problem of Undyne trying to interact with him—for once he was grateful for Sans’ avoidant tendencies. Mustering his usual high spirits, he answered the door.

“Hello Undyne! Welcome to the humble abode of the humbler Papyrus! The greatest skeleton you will ever meet!”

Undyne laughed. “Hey Papyrus, it’s good to see you. Still stuck as a horse lizard thing, I see.”

“Yes,” Papyrus huffed, “the tragedy of our time. I’m close to a breakthrough though, I can feel it!”

“I know you can do it!” the captain beamed with all her fangs. “Where’s Sans? I don’t care if he’s sick, he’s not getting out of at least a little noogie from me! Oh, but I also brought soup, I thought it might help him feel better.”

“How incredibly thoughtful of you!” Papyrus uttered, taking the small container Undyne handed over. “As it happens, he’s just stepped out for some fresh air.”

“You told him I was coming, right?” Undyne said with a frown, and he nodded.

“Of course I did! But you know Sans does as he pleases.”

“Yeah,” Undyne griped. “Well, hopefully he’s back soon. We're gonna have fun, but I wanted talk to both of you for a moment.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I’ve been hearing some things from the other guards. I… guess we could talk about it now, but I don’t want you to worry and it mostly concerns him.”

“Oh no, go on! I worry anyway, it’s no big deal!” Papyrus assured her cheerfully, and she gave a bittersweet smile.

“Okay, okay… Well, I guess Sans has been kinda… irritable, lately. Dogaressa told me the other day. She said he hasn’t been joking around, or going to Grillby’s as much—which, normally I’d say is a good thing, but knowing your brother I know that means something’s up. I guess he snapped at Jerry, which, if it was anyone else it'd be totally understandable, but Sans never snaps at anyone.”

“He’s… stressed,” Papyrus admitted. “He doesn’t like that I’m stuck like this.”

“Hmm... I guess I can see that, but he’s normally so… unflappable,” Undyne said. “If this is just something you can do, why’s he so worked up that you’re stuck? Unless he’s actually an even crappier brother than I thought and thinks he can decide what you should be like.”

“No! It’s nothing like that!” Papyrus refuted, internally horrified at the thought of Sans being so controlling. It’d be too much like him. “He hates that I’m stuck, not that other preposterous thing you said.”

“Psh, okay, I get it,” Undyne laughed. “Still. It’s putting him in a pretty bad mood and it’s got people worried… and maybe it’s why he got sick, y’know? He threw himself out of whack with all this…”

“Yeah, it’s really unhealthy…” Papyrus agreed, looking away. “I’ll talk to him when he gets back. A grumpy Sans is hardly a Sans at all! Now! What did you want to do on our hangout?”

They ended up watching one of Mettaton’s new cooking shows where he competed against and judged himself with various dishes made under both time and ingredient limits. The clips were cut so it really looked like there were three of him in the kitchen at a time, and he played up the tension when he judged himself harshly on a failed dish. Of course, even the failures were absolutely perfect—he just liked the drama of elimination. It was good, bad TV, and for a little while Papyrus could forget his predicament. After a few hours and an attempt at making their own versions of some of the dishes they’d seen, it was time for Undyne to head home, and Papyrus was left with a quiet house once more.

“Alright Sans, it’s safe to come out now!” he called, on the chance Sans had merely taken a shortcut up to his room. There was no reply. Papyrus leapt up the stairs to poke his head into his brother’s room and found nothing out of the ordinary—but it was empty. Sans wasn’t home.

Papyrus returned to the living room and sat on the floor, tail flicking idly as he wondered what to do while he waited. Sans was fine--he’d be back eventually. He wouldn’t leave like he’d so foolishly run away--Sans liked the comforts of home too much. Even if he relapsed and sank into the cloying lull of instinct and everything he’d been trained to be...

He'd still know where home was and couldn't be gone for long.

... Right?

[keelywolfe]

FIC: The Rose and the Thorn: Chapter 10 (Mafia AU)

Summary:  We left off with Edge and Rus on a cliffhanger, let's see where they go from there!

Tags: Spicyhoney, Cherryberry, Mafia AU, Flower Shop AU, Violence, First Meetings

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

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Read on AO3

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Read it here!

~~*~~

Rus knew what he looked like. Tall, gangling skeleton and his bones were thin, almost delicate. Most people probably thought a stiff breeze would send him off like a tumbleweed and they were sort of right. He would’ve had more than a couple scars from a childhood from tripping over his own feet if his brother wasn’t such a good healer.

But if you took his innate clumsiness out of the equation, it was a load of bullshit, really. He’d helped his brother set up their garden, hauled bags of soil and manure, lugged oversized flowerpots, carried fencing and poles. He wasn’t weak, thank you very much, but even he had to admit, holding up a Monster of Edge’s size for any length of time was pushing him to his limits.

Luckily, he didn’t have to manage long. Edge caught his balance quickly, rocked unsteadily back to his feet and once Rus wasn’t completely blanketed by tall skeleton, he got a better view of the Dogs standing on either side of him, helping hold him up. Okay, they were at least part of the reason Edge hadn’t fallen on him, so what, he was pretty sure he did his part.

More Dogs, wow, did they buy these guys by the six pack? They were pretty good at the stoic, almost as good as Edge, but Rus didn’t miss their brief, amused tail wags. Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, watching him trying to catch Edge must’ve been a funny sight, like a meek village fool trying to catch a crumbling mountain.

But watching them immediately school their expressions to bland seriousness when Edge looked at them was even better.

Large hands settled on his shoulders, drawing his attention back to Edge and more to the point, his face, holy fuck—

“I’m all right,” Edge started, and no, just no.

“you certainly don’t look like it!” Rus snapped. He took hold of one of Edge’s sleeves, flinching at sight of the charred fray that was all that remained of his gloves. “come on, for pity’s sake, come sit down!”

Edge didn’t really resist, bemusedly letting Rus lead the way down the hallway. Only for Rus to stop a few steps in, turning back to admit sheepishly. “um. i’m not sure where you were going?”

He hadn’t heard any of the Dogs speak yet, but that wasn’t entirely unusual, some Monsters didn’t use a verbal language. It didn’t stop one of them from letting out a snicker, hastily quelled when Edge slanted him a dour look.

“This way, flower shop.” Edge took the lead and stayed on his feet mostly under his own steam with the occasional steadying hand from one of the Dogs. He led the way to another of the thousand doors, only this one had a panel that opened to reveal a keypad. Rus pointedly didn’t watch as Edge punched in the code and went inside.

But it wasn’t an infirmary of any sort or even a bathroom. Inside was a large bedroom, dominated by an enormous four poster bed that was covered in an fluffy comforter and huge pillows, with actual curtains hung around it, like they’d taken an accidental trip with the Ghost of Gyftmas Past and wandered into the bedroom of Ebeneezer Scrooge. Rus hovered awkwardly by the door as the Dogs helped Edge to one of the wide sofas set in a half-circle in a sort of open-air sitting room.

Once Edge was settled, the Dogs took their leave and Rus didn’t miss the wink one of them sent his way.

Well, it seemed they were expecting him to play nurse, not exactly a role he’d had much experience in. One look at Edge had him setting his shoulders, ready to step up and give it his best shot, though if there were any cracks about him putting on a little white dress, he was out.

Or maybe he was fooling himself, because he couldn’t possibly leave Edge alone like this. His clothes were streaked with burnt marks, the fine suit from that morning looked like it only recently stopped smoldering. Worse of all, the bone all down one side of his face was scorched and blackened, and Rus supposed it was a small mercy that the damage was on the already injured side of his skull.

Just looking at it made nausea lurch up into his throat. Rus swallowed it down and walked over, biting the tip of his tongue and focusing on that tiny hurt while he inspected the damages.

It must be painful, but Edge didn’t flinch from Rus’s timid prodding as he tried to decide if he actually could help or if he needed to find a phone to call for someone more qualified. So much soot and who knew what damage beneath it. Rus blinked hard as sympathetic tears welled; he’d always hated seeing anything hurt, Rus was the one getting teased for rescuing worms from the sidewalks after a storm and giving the pigeons in the park the crusts from his sandwiches. A thumb grazed underneath his socket, wiping away the trickle of tears, and Rus could smell the smoky char on Edge’s ruined gloves.

“It’s not that bad, flower shop,” Edge murmured. “I’m only a little crisp around the edges.” If he were trying for lightness, he failed, and Rus could feel wetness escaping from around his touch, trickling down his cheekbones. “Don’t,” Edge tried, “You don’t need to—"

“this is about us, isn’t it?” Rus interrupted softly. He wasn’t sure what kind of fool Edge thought he was, but he could at least manage to put 2 and 2 together and know that a vengeful fire monster who was prone to kidnappings likely matched up with fresh burns.

Edge said nothing and that was all the answer Rus needed.

“then i think i do.” Rus drew away, wiping impatiently at his damp cheeks bones with his sleeve. “where’s the bathroom?”

He followed where Edge pointed and one step inside was enough to stifle his remaining tears. If he thought his own lavatory was opulent, this one seemed to belong more in a palace than above a strip club in the red-light district, all of it gleaming dark marble streaked with gold. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and sighed. All his efforts to obey his brother’s scold to keep his new clothes clean ruined by smudges of soot streaked all down his shirt and a full set of handprints impressed on his shoulders.

Welp, guess it was a good thing he probably wasn’t going to be doing the laundry.

Under the sink was a basin that he filled halfway with cool water, along with a well-appointed first aid kit. Rus snagged both along with a couple clean washcloths and clumsily carried the lot of it out, only spilling a couple splashes of water to disappear in the lush carpet.

Edge hadn’t moved, only watched him with an intensity that sent an odd prickle down Rus’s spine. Whatever, let him stare. Rus ignored it to set his newfound supplies on the coffee table and sat on the sofa next to him to get to work. First, wetting a washcloth and very gently washing away the layers of soot to reveal the chalky, damaged bone beneath. It actually wasn’t too bad, he was relieved to see, at least Edge was right about that. Most of it was filth, the only real damage seemed to be to the very side of his face, a ragged line that ran from his forehead nearly to his chin. Edge never made a sound even when Rus had to really scrub to clear away the sooty blackness. The friction must have hurt terribly, but he allowed Rus to clean him up as he muttering vague apologies the entire time, because honestly, if he’d been the one hurt, Rus would have been howling for mercy by now.

The silence grew to be too much, nothing but the splash of water as he wrung out the cloth again and Edge’s crimson eye lights following his every move. Luckily, filling silences with nervous chatter was one of Rus’s greatest skills.

“i’m glad the bathroom was close,” Rus admitted with a self-deprecating laugh, “if it was in the hallway, i would’ve been a while. i’m not sure if i could find anything in this labyrinth.”

“It’s not as big as it seems,” Edge’s sockets fell half-closed as Rus gingerly cleaned around the delicate, damaged rim, showing only a bare gleam of crimson. “You only think it is because of the Dogs.”

That gave Rus a pause. "what do you mean?”

Edge offered him that little half-smile of his, "The hallways are designed like a labyrinth and my brother has the Dogs lead people through the same ones several times. Even the artwork is designed to change the picture when someone walks past it, to make it seem larger and more confusing than it is.”

“seriously? what kind of low-rent james bond villain bullshit is that?" Rus blurted. He winced at his own words, shit, calling Red a villain wasn’t exactly what his brother would call good manners, but Edge's slight smile only widened.

"I prefer the term frugal.”

“hmmph,” Rus huffed, deciding not to argue the point. If Red wanted a subplot of being a cheapskate, that was his problem. “are you going to tell me what happened?” he asked, dabbing gingerly at a particularly darkened spot. The bone beneath was slightly pitted and he could only hiss in sympathy, imagining how much it must hurt.

That little smile faded. “I went to see Blaze in a neutral location, to negotiate.”

“looks like negotiations went south.”

Edge grunted in agreement, closing his sockets entirely as Rus finished cleaning his skull with a last gentle wipe. He dropped the washcloth into the dingy basin water before digging through the first aid kit for burn ointment. With the soot cleaned away, the burns matched Edge’s assessment of not too bad. They should heal fine, probably wouldn’t even scar if Edge kept it clean and well treated. Of course, there was another option.

Rus carefully set the ointment aside, reaching out instead with a cautious bare hand, “you were right, it isn’t too bad. i’m not as good as my brother, but if you let me heal you—”

The hand that caught his wrist moved so quickly Rus barely saw it. He yelped in surprise and automatically tried to pull away. Uselessly, that grip tightened painlessly as Edge said, firmly, “No.”

Even sitting, Edge was taller than him, especially when he wasn’t slumped back on the sofa. Taller than him, larger than him in every way and even sitting here in a ridiculously lavish bedroom in his ruined suit, Edge seemed larger than life, nearly a force of nature. And Rus looked up directly into his hurt face and asked boldly, “why not?”

The flick of his crimson tongue over his teeth nearly distracted Rus from his words. “Because having someone else use their magic on me outside of a fight is entirely too intimate for my tastes.”

Intimate. That was the problem? Considering that Rus was in possession of a shivery memory of Edge’s weight on top of him, pressing him into the cushioned plush of the rug with the heat of the fireplace pouring over them as Edge’s gloved hand skimmed against his bare hip…um…better to stop there. Anyway, considering all that, it seemed silly to him for Edge to suffer through days of discomfort when a little healing magic could ease it.

Exasperated, Rus pointed out, “you were willing to have sex with me but won’t let me heal you?” It was only after he said it that Rus belatedly remembered that actually, Edge hadn’t been willing to have sex with him, that was sort of where their awkwardness this morning came from and he looked away, a miserable blush rising in his cheekbones, like an echo of Edge’s burns.

To his shameful relief, Edge didn’t comment on that, only ran his thumb over the delicate, interlocked bones at the inside of Rus’s wrist. “It’s not the same. Magic involves souls, sex is only as intimate as you allow it to be. Anyone can take your body, flower shop.”

“yes, thank you for that reminder,” Rus muttered unhappily. He couldn’t hold back a shudder, remembering Blaze’s unbearably sweltering hands on him, forcing his touch on Rus as he whispered horrible things, cruelly teasing threats about Rus’s mouth and what he might do to it.

Edge’s voice jarred him from the unpleasant memory, cushioned in gentleness. “You’re safe here. This club is as well protected as it could possibly be. Aside from basic security precautions, we’ve been layering on every sort of protection spell possible over it since we got to the surface.”

That was a comfort to know, for now. But what about when he left, they left, him and Blue heading back to their shop and their lives without an ounce of protection surrounding them.

“i want to go home.” The words slipped out, small and miserable. And true, their home was small and a bit cramped, but it was home.

“I know,” Edge said, softly. He offered no promises about getting Rus there and he wondered wanly if he should be grateful for that honesty. Rus reached up and took hold of the large hand still holding his other wrist as his gaze searched Edge’s face, eye lights skimming from the untouched side to the one stark with darkened burns. With a tug, Edge brought their joined hands to his mouth, pressing a kiss against them and murmuring, “I’m working on it.”

There was something in his voice, something coldly dark beneath that tender touch and Rus swallowed hard, “you’re going to try to kill him, aren’t you.”

“Don’t ask questions that you don’t want answered.”

“aren’t you?” Rus persisted.

Edge let out a small frustrated sound, "It's the only way to end this. The only way you'll get your life back."

Rus shook his head, helplessly. That couldn’t be true, the only answer simply couldn’t be tainting Edge’s soul with XP, racking a LV onto Edge’s conscious in the name of their wellbeing, his and Blue’s and Rus knew without question that his brother would agree. “there has to be another way.”

“Are you willing to bet your life on that, flower shop?” Edge countered, “What about your brother’s?”

“there has to be! i can’t let you—” kill someone. Rus choked on the words, felt the ache of tears welling up again.

Again, that thumb rubbed a soothing little circle against Rus’s wrist. “Why do you care so much?”

“I…” Rus swallowed nervously. “it’s…it’s the right thing to do!”

“Of course,” Edge said wryly. “And you always do the right thing, don’t you.” He let go of Rus’s wrist and sank back into the cushions. “Go on, then.”

“huh?” Rus blinked, confused, ready to argue that he wasn’t about to leave with this debate still between them.

“Go on,” Edge repeated, “Heal me.” A sardonic slash of a smile tipped up the undamaged side of his mouth. “Since it’s the right thing to do.”

Oh. Rus had to kneel up to reach, leaning across Edge’s torso to settle his bare hand lightly against the side of his skull. It was a matter of moments to focus his magic, calling up the tingling warmth of healing and concentrating it on the burns. He certainly didn’t miss Edge’s relieved sigh; it must’ve hurt something awful and honestly, fussing about intimacy when the alternative was days of pain? He really couldn’t understand these people.

When Rus finally stopped, the bone beneath his hand was smooth and unblemished, at least as much as previously cracked bone could be. All signs of any burns were gone and Rus beamed at Edge, pleased.

“there,” he said triumphantly. “isn’t that bett—oh!”

The way Rus was leaning already put him off balance and the sudden, strong arm winding around his waist sent him nearly sprawling into Edge’s lap. A rough chuckle greeted his twisting and squirms until he was sitting across Edge’s femurs, looking up into his newly healed face with wide sockets.

“Yes,” Edge agreed softly, “This is much better.” He lightly bit the tip of one of his fingers, tugging off his glove and spitting it aside before reaching out to brush bare fingertips lightly over Rus’s mouth, cautious of the sharpened tips. Rus sat frozen beneath that touch as it slid lower, broad knuckles curling beneath his chin. “To tell the truth, I’m at a loss,” Edge murmured, low, like a confession. “Even if I deal with Blaze, you’re irrevocably linked to me now. Do I let it be? Or do I embrace it?”

That…that sounded…Rus wasn’t sure, his thoughts were in wild turmoil, caught up between Edge’s words and his embrace, “what about what i want?” he asked, weakly.

A soft chuckle gusted over him like a caress and Edge’s face was close to his own, as he said, “Pretty flower, you’ve wanted me since the day I walked into your shop.”

Rus wanted to deny it, but what was the point? It was true, he couldn’t possibly have been more obvious. He didn’t move as Edge leaned in, every possible protest twittering out of his mind even as Edge said, his deep voice raw with the barest of regrets, “Just remember, I tried to let you go.”

His mouth was achingly gentle, coaxingly sweet and Rus parted his teeth with a watery sigh as he met it with his own. Parted his teeth to timidly meet the slide of a clever tongue with his own. He was surrounded, Edge around him, beneath him, the arms that circled him held Rus close. Safe, he realized, he was safe, and Rus groaned shakily, clinging to Edge’s broad chest as those dizzying kisses deepened, teeth scraping with tantalizingly deliberate roughness as a low growl rumbled out from deep within Edge’s chest.

In the back of his mind, Rus was hyperaware of the enormous bed behind them, equal parts inviting and terrifying to consider Edge carrying him to it the same way as he had to the rug. His heavy weight again between Rus’s femurs, the hard press of his hips, and the senseless magic settling in Rus’s pelvis wanted that, wanted even more. He could feel his magic taking form, embarrassingly eager wetness dampening his undershorts. His mind might well be unsettled, but his body was making its wants known to them both and he couldn’t help wriggling again, already feeling the response of Edge’s body beneath his pelvis.

The door bursting opened shattered any burgeoning arousal and Rus jerked back, scrambling away even as Edge reluctantly let him go.

Red didn’t even seem to notice them yet, kicking the door shut as he groused, “dogs said you and blaze got into it, bro, you okay—” he stopped, staring blankly at his brother, eye lights gliding over where Edge’s joints were flushed and his jaw clenched. Then flicking to Rus who was curled up far on the other side of the sofa with a burning blush high on his cheekbones. Red chewing on the end of his cigar furiously, saying acidly around it, “might need to have a word with ‘em, since they didn’t see fit to mention this lil’ tête-à-tête.”

“Perhaps they thought they didn’t need to,” Edge said, coolly, “There is this charming social construct called knocking, you should consider trying it sometime.”

“uh huh, you know me, all up in the social constructs.” Red turned his sour look back on Rus, who only cringed harder, “sorry to interrupt, but i’m fresh outta social constructs right now. me and my bro need to talk, hit bricks.”

Edge crossed his arms over his chest, “No, he can stay.”

Yeah, because Rus was all about hanging around Red with his magic still uncomfortably roused between his legs. “i really don’t mind, i can go.”

Neither of them paid him any mind, both brother’s glaring. Finally, Red shrugged, “i was gonna talk business, but if you wanna scar your pretty lil’ flower, ain’t no skin off my bones.”

That seemed to give Edge a pause. He frowned, considering, then sighed out, “Go, Rus.”

Rus wobbled to his feet, all ready to head for the door. Only to have Edge catch his wrist, reeling him in. He didn’t try to take a kiss, thankfully, no attempt at a little pda in front of his brother. He only studied Rus’s face as if drinking in the sight of him, then tapped him lightly on the nasal aperture as he said, sternly, “Behave.”

That made him remember that morning, sneaking downstairs to chat with the ladies in the break room. Rus gave him a wobbly nod, and said, “i always do,” hoping his guilt didn’t show on his face as he slipped away and headed towards the door.

He skirted widely around Red and even that didn’t keep Rus from hearing him mutter, “if that’s you behavin’ flower shop, can’t wait to see ya bein’ bad.”

Outside the door one of the Dogs was waiting and Rus was about to ask them to show him back to his room, preferably without the extra mileage, when his eye lights caught on a long line of blistered redness along their muzzle.

“did you get burned, too,” Rus gasped, appalled, “that must hurt, do you want me to heal…it?” He trailed off awkwardly, expecting to be brushed off. But the Dog only whined and lowered their head, their dark brown eyes hopeful.

The little wound was even easier to heal than Edge’s and the Dog heaved a sigh of relief when Rus was finished, offering him a slightly slobbery grin, along with something else that had been sitting unnoticed by their feet. They held it out in offering and Rus took it, uncomprehending at first until the familiar jangle made him look down in disbelief.

It was his backpack, somewhat sooty and Spongebob was more than a little worse for wear, but it was his, with all his pins still attached.

“how did you—” Rus started, dumbly. There was only one answer and Rus glanced at the door speculatively, wondering if he’d gotten the backpack before, after, or during getting burnt to a crisp. Questions for later and he added it to his list as the Dog led him back to his room.

The moment he opened the door, a loud shout almost sent him tumbling head over heels back out.

“Where have you been!?”

Rus sighed to himself and shut the door, bracing himself to face his brother.

Where was a kidnapping when you really needed one.

tbc

[omo-time]

‘No! Not again! Why can’t I just bring myself to tell someone?” Kazuha was on his knees, once again surrounded by a puddle of urine he’d hoped (and failed) to hold. Huixing stood next to him, patting his back, the helmsman was thinking the same thing the rest of the crew was, only she wasn’t dumb enough to say it.

“Welp, guess we gotta update the chart again” looks of horror snapped towards him.

“W-what chart?” Kazuha asked.

“…nothing- there’s no chart! I’m just saying things…” the pirate scratched at his neck.

“You… you have a chart about me having accidents” he was just beginning to calm down too, and now he was crying again “don’t you?”

The lack of response and chorus of people clearing their throats gave him all the answer he needed.

“I…” he looked down in shame, tears dripping onto the sleeve of his left arm “you… you know I c-can’t control it!” He screamed at them, the embarrassment and anger made his face so red he started to get light headed.

“Hey hey what’s going on up here?” Beidou stepped up to the deck. It was a familiar sight, nothing she wasn’t used to, the strange part… was how upset he was. Normally he didn’t get so worked up over accidents on the ship.

“What did you do?” She addressed angrily to the crew “spill it. Now.”

Huixing turned to her “this idiot…” she pointed at the pirate who let it slip “told Kazuha about the chart”

“Chart? What chart?” She asked.

Huixing whispered to her “well… some of us started keeping record of how often Kazuha tends to wet himself, it was supposed to be a joke between us, we never intended for him to find out”

Beidou turned disgusted to her crew “what is wrong with all of you? Don’t leave the deck until I say you can” she placed a hand on Kazuha’s shoulder “hey, kid… you should go clean up”

He offered no reply, just sat there, hair obscuring his face.

“It’s okay” she resorted to just picking him up, and frowned when he offered no resistance. He was carried below deck, down to Beidou’s private room.

“…I’m sorry” he mumbled.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, just get yourself cleaned up. I’ll be right back” she returned to the deck. “Every single one of you involved with this, you’re gonna scrub the ship until it’s sparkling, a stark contrast to your sense of humour.”

“Y-yes captain Beidou!”

-🌸

Mama Beidou supremacy

MAMA BEIDOU SUPREMACY.. BUT ALSO HOW AB FLOWER ANON SUPREMACY??

IM RUNNING OUT OF REACTION MEMES TO EXPRESS HOW I FEEL ABOUT THESE OH NO

[antoniatzhang]

ok here we go

BASICS

full name: antonia trevisani zhang

birthday: may 15th, 1960

age: 19

pronouns: she/her

current residence: wimbourne house, hemlock room

languages: english, mandarin, italian

BACKGROUND

hometown: siena, italy

previous home: n/a

parents: emilia trevisani and zhang jie

siblings: tbd

pets: lucrezia, a tarantula, plus two dobermanns back in italy named alto and nico

WIZARDING STATS

wand:  11″, occamy feather core, wood tbd, unyielding, lined with occamy eggshell silver. 

patronus: jaguar (uncast)

boggart: tbd

amortentia: tbd

PERSONALITY

strengths: adventurous, thorough, observant

weaknesses: unrepentant, misanthropic, self-centered

MBTI: ISTP-a

alignment: chaotic neutral (?... I just hate the word evil so you be the judge of it)

zodiac sign: taurus

likes: fire, deadlines, quidditch, running, spiders, her dogs, shortcuts

dislikes: people, 

MIRROR

height:5'5

body type: skinny

eye color: pitch black

hair color: pitch black

faceclaim: natasha liu bordizzo

voiceclaim: rooney mara w/ accent

EDUCATION

primary school: london school of witchcraft / class of 1978

hogwarts house: slytherin/ class of 1981

degree: healing sciences, mind magic

extracurriculars: dueling club, quidditch, JWL

classes: tbd

BACKGROUND

People are idiots, of that Antonia is sure. Although she is not particularly accomplished in anything worth remarking, Antonia is entirely convinced that everyone is beneath her, in one way or another. That one? Lazy. The other? Presumptuous. The third is naïve. The fourth, unambitious, the poor thing. She could go on and on about the defects of each and every person in the world, without ever recognizing these same exact defects in herself. She has learnt, after all, that in her, all acts are justifiable, because she is special. Talented. Those who see defects in her are likely jealous, as she’s always been told by her parents. This posture makes it difficult for her to like just about anyone, as their defects always make them seem incredibly unworthy of her time. Upon joining Hogwarts, Antonia decided her most likely chance of meeting decent companies would be joining the Junior Witches League, seeing as her mother had been associated to its Italian branch and always spoke wonders of her sisters. So far, however, she remains unimpressed. Her few good qualities are her impressive talent for jinxes, hexes and combative magic as a whole, which she hopes to show off at dueling club, and her ability to push herself relentlessly in everything physical –adrenaline is a key motivator to Antonia. Quidditch and dueling are the most orthodox ways to get those kicks, but other creative ways are also on the table. Danger strikes her fancy.

A childhood like Antonia’s could be described as picture perfect. The setting of Villa Trevisani, a true Tuscany-style mansion in the outskirts of Siena, Italy, was abundant and dreamy. From an early age, she figured she must have been a very special child – what else could explain the garden, the toys, the clothes, all dreamy and all at the tip of her fingers? She was special, as her father explained. Unlike other kids. Not only was she a witch, she also belonged to a phenomenal lineage, and was therefore entitled to all the best things in life. The company of all those goods made for decent substitute of her parents’ attention. They loved her, sure, but both lived hustled celebrity lives – her mother, Emilia Trevisani, a singer and tabloid favorite celebrity in Italy, and her father, Zhang Jie, a superstar quidditch player who led the Chinese national quidditch team to victory on three World Cups, as their seeker. When the couple met over the 1958 Quidditch World Cup, hosted in Italy, they fell in love fast and suddenly, and were married just under 5 months dating. Jie moved to Emilia’s Villa Trevisani and signed a contract with the Grifoni di Siena, Italy’s most popular team. The couple’s first child, Antonia, came to the world at the same time when their marriage was becoming lackluster and dull. They avoided a divorce for the sake of the child, but she understood their relationship perfectly, from a very young age, and saw that there was no love there. Her childhood days were spent in attempts to trick her governesses, distilling all her energy running through the garden, climbing on the statues, throwing fits. She broke her bones more times than she would be able to tell you, in the most various places, and developed quite the tolerance to pain. In quidditch, she could always push herself to the most dire conditions, and her father supported her involvement in the sport tremendously.

Antonia learned she ought to be proud of her lineage, particularly on her father’s side. More than anything, she held a profound sense of admiration for her grandmother, Zhang Baozhai. Zhang Baozhai was the reason why the Zhang name brought chills to the better informed witch or wizard, principally to those in Asia. A sullen, cutthroat woman, she built a dynasty from the ground. First, through years of political influence in the Chinese Ministry of Magic. Second, forging her own line of work – a business operation that ran on the limits of legality and employed dark magic to fulfill the desires of their costumers, whichever be their nature, and always for a lofty price. Baozhai formed a particular bond with her granddaughter and often treated her with more love than she’d ever had for any of her sons. Their bond was so solid that, upon her passing, Baozhai’s wand chose Antonia, an event that brought herself and her father much pride.

tw: violence, physical abuse

Once, in her teenage years, Antonia thought she’d found true love, and she grasped and clung to it for long, painful months that felt like years. At the age of sixteen, she met an English man – a wizard, and a muggleborn, about five years older than her, all of which made the simple fact of her allowing him to get to know her outrageous. He was in Italy for a mysterious job. He was a mysterious man. Everything about him drew her in and, before she knew it, she was too deeply inebriated to deny her feelings. They lived two months of an intense romance, or so she thought. One day the man disappeared without saying a word, and the mysterious job turned out to be stealing pieces of her family heirloom from her home. This enraged her. For months, all she could think of was confronting him, not for the theft but for the deceit, the ridicule. She pestered her parents everyday about allowing her to move to London, on excuses of the most varied – the quality of education, the cultural enrichment, perfecting her English, even the weather, absurd as it was. Eventually they caved in, as they always did. And so, Antonia moved into London, concluding the last two years of her primary education in London School. During that time, finding her deceiver was like a mission to her – not a day went by that she didn’t dedicate herself to it. When she finally found him, living well-off in a condo, Antonia confronted him in his house. Upon the accusations and demands for explaining himself, she was met with resistance, but not the type she’d expected – the man lashed onto her with overwhelming physical strength. She didn’t remember the details – all she remember was feeling utterly subjugated and reaching for her wand like a drowning man to a life buoy. She stunned him, but it didn’t feel like enough. Nothing felt like enough. Had she been a better person, she would have left and reached out to the DMLE, but instead, she did something else out of unexplainable rage: she attempted to obliviate him. And failed. Miserably. Instead of forgetting her, or anything, he forgot everything, including basic motor functions. He went into vegetative state. This earned him a one-way ticket to St. Mungus, and Antonia earned an expulsion from school. But not one that couldn’t be lifted by her father, who knew just who to persuade with words and whose palms to grease. Antonia came out of this traumatic event feeling victorious, and felt not a pinch of regret for what she did. In fact, by the time she had to choose her degree, she thought it would be ironic to choose Mind Magic as her degree, with particular interest to obliviating. She still visits him in St. Mungus every year, traditionally during Christmas time.

TL;DR

yea sorry I sometimes overdo it here’s the tl;dr:

- hates everyone, think’s she’s better than anyone

- have you ever met someone who always turns the conversation into something that’s 100% about them, like, almos doesn’t even pretend they’re listening? yup that’s her

- spoiled af, if you’ve watched murder of gianni versace, think andre cunanam’s dad and you’ll get the picture of her fathering profile

- adrenaline junkie

- tw violence/physical abuse: ex-boyfriend-turned-conman tried to be physically violent to her so she stunned and obliviated-ish him (ik makes no sense, but she was in chaos), except she didn’t know how to obliviate someone and ended up turning his brain into mashed potatoes. figured, welp, guess I have a talent for the thing, might as well become an obliviator. so now she’s studying mind magic.

- I’m going with death eater long term (duh), please hmu with plots if you have any ideas!!!

- also yes I was obviously inspired by natasha’s ethnicity (chinese + italian), this is not a coincidence

[toooldforfandom-liveblogs]

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power S02E04 - Roll With It

Huh. Interesting title. There have been some changes in the lives of some of the main characters so maybe it's about how they are reacting to them. Catra with being effectively demoted after Entrapta managed to catch Hordrak's attention, or maybe Glimmer with everything that has happened? Although I guess Adora is the one who hasn't really dealt yet with everything that's been happening to her so it could be her way of postponing doing that.

I don’t know, so let’s do this!

I thought Glimmer was usually the leader in these missions, interesting. Is Adora's training with Light Hope taking effect?

Welp, I guess Bow is dead now.

Wait, wait, what? Why are they taking it so seriously like they'd actually let Bow die?

It has to be a dream, right? But who's? She-Ra was the leader so it'd make sense if it was her having stress nightmares.

...oh, they are playing a RPG. Okay then, nevermind all that tragic stuff.

Also, why don't figures that look like that exist?

Look at that! It's so cute! It's like a She-Ra amiibo! Or a Nendoroid maybe?

Are they actually using a tabletop rpg to plan out their missions? Because that's awesome. And weird. How would an observation check work in real life?

I mean, they can't count on having rainbow powers so there'll always be some improvisation.

I'm dying at the show's suddenly getting out the sad strings for this joke.

It's either going to be Kyle or Scorpia, right?

Also, Adora is really showing some cracks under the pressure. I understand her being serious about it but her attitude seems a bit beyond that.

there you go

Oh Scorpia, I missed you.

I mean, Scorpia is a Force Captain. How does the horde's hierarchy work anyway? Catra is also a Force Captain but in charge of... everything below Hordrak?

We should all strive to be as positive as Scorpia.

So far I've been kinda joking about Scorpia having a crush not really believing it'd go beyond some insinuation and jokes but there aren't a lot of other ways to interpret that line. Poor Scorpia, they are really setting her up to get horribly disappointed and/or hurt at some point, huh?

Anyway, what's Catra doing? Preparing for the season finale?

That slow blink is such a perfect reaction image, even though it only works in context.

This is extremely cute and now everything I want is for Scorpia to be happy.

I can't remember if the lizard guy has a name, but he looks like he regrets waking up that morning.

I just realized that the episode title is probably about Adora accepting that she can't plan everything in advance.

This is the coolest and most unexpected thing I have seen this week. Wow. It kinda feels like a direct reference to something but I'm not sure what, but it does have the feel of the 80s, especially with all that purple neon aesthetic.

And Kyle's pompadour is the absolute best and he'd gain the instant respect and love of everyone in the Horde if he managed to get that haircut.

I really missed Glimmer. She may not have the most strategic or realistic of plans but damn she's going to look awesome while executing it and isn't that the most important goal of all?

Actually, they need to change reality to make Glimmer's plan viable because now I want to watch that show.

"Fee Fi Fo Fugh so annoying"

There's absolutely no way Glimmer would have resisted using her powers long enough to make this the first time they detect them.

Wow, soldiers. Can't wait to not see them during the attack.

This episode could kill everyone by the end and I'd still walk away thinking it was awesome just because of these scenes.

Catra did capture Glimmer and then completely bamboozled them when they captured her so... it kinda makes sense that Glimmer sees her as some slick and sophisticated super villain.

Noooo, don't interrupt that line.

After seeing the awesomeness of Glimmer's imagination, I want to see what Bow's plan.

Rooting for the villains here.

"mom?"

One more thing to crush Scorpia's heart when it inevitably gets destroyed.

I hope someday the Horde will become accessible to everyone, including those with claws for hands.

"Scorpia fails to do something with her claws" is the one joke in She-Ra that feels weirdly cruel.

Mermista flexing her kingdom's budget with her custom articulated Revoltech figure vs Bow's nendoroids.

Yessssss

The biggest lore drop so far, Glimmer watched anime when she was a kid, Bow watched 80s cartoons.

OH MY GOD

Those are the original costumes, right? Poor, poor Mermista.

This is absolutely amazing.

Yup, still amazing.

Isn't that the reason why all the characters have the same body in the original show? They are really having fun with this episode.

Undertale, 2015

Adora's rage counter.

...I mean, how do you argue with that?

This episode keeps getting better and better.

Bow's nod is just * chef's kiss *

SEA-RA

Oooh, this is going to be good.

I hesitate to mention a specific site because I have no idea where kids post OCs and self-insert fics these days but, wherever it is, Frosta is 100% there.

The best part is that Mermista keeps being the only who likes Frosta's edgy OC.

Yeah, she's definitely posting that OC fanart everywhere.

oh my god this episode

Scorpia is going to take their OCs seriously, isn't she?

This is reaaally not going to help fight the Horde's "the princesses are evil and can't control their powers" propaganda.

How is it possible for the episode to keep outdoing itself.

Another example of the princesses' disregard for the lives of the innocent. That child had a family!

There's always a lower place on the totem pole.

Wow, perfectly accurate. I had no idea Perfuma understood Catra so deeply.

Catra is rocking those sunglasses.

I have nothing to write, this screenshot is perfect as-is.

Everyone writing their awesome self-insert fics while Adora writes angst and hurt/comfort.

This episode has been absolutely amazing so far but I was waiting for Adora to explode at some point. I'm glad she's finally telling them about the pressure she's feeling.

That went from hilarious to sad to heartwarming in like 60 seconds.

...the tower is going to be empty, isn't it?

Unexpectedly cute.

THANK YOU

oh my god, I'm speechless at everything that's going on

I just found out your name, Rogelio! You can't die now!

welp, rip.

It looks like no one told Scorpia how Glimmer escaped Shadow Weaver.

I can't tell if Scorpia didn't meant to kill Glimmer so she threw her where she was safe or if she did it on accident.

aw, they were waiting for her

It's the hair, main, the hair. This wouldn't have happened if he had a pompadour.

What an amazing episode to come back to, even though I ended up watching it in pieces (I watched a bit in March before the hiatus). Somehow it managed to get better every time I pressed play.

I don't really have a lot to say because the episode was mostly comedy but almost every joke landed for me. I'm just a tiny bit worried about what an episode so funny means for the season since Adora's explosion wasn't as big of a downer as it could have been. Was this the breather before it all goes to pot?

In any case, I'm glad Adora opened up at least a bit, that I got to hear Glimmer doing an "oh ho ho" laugh and that everyone got their chance to shine with their roleplaying abilities.

Until next time!

[patreon - discord]

[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 8

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 6,473

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

It was dawning on me that I hadn’t fully thought this through.

This whole “having friends” thing.

There were so many factors I hadn’t even considered. Like, once you’ve made a new friend…

...what the frick are you supposed to do with them?

One would think I’d have this figured out by now. After all, I was friends with Rayne, wasn’t I? But Rayne was different. There hadn’t really been much to think about there, we’d just sorta clicked. Besides, we’d met when we were children - a time when the hot topics to talk about had been our favorite toys to play with or which of the boys had cooties or our latest masterpieces made during Arts and Crafts time involving gluing popsicle sticks and sequins to pine cones. You know, kid stuff.

But now I was an adult. An adult who had just made new adult friends who probably expected adult conversations.

And unfortunately I just didn’t think cooties and sequins were going to cut it anymore.

Which is why I could now be found on this fine Friday afternoon shift at the Ice Palace having borrowed Kristoff’s phone, making use of the current lull in customer traffic to carry out some important research. And how, one might wonder, was this important research being gathered?

By googling the phrase “how to friendship.”

Genius, I know.

Thousands of articles and tutorials had come back in the search results, not all of them useful, but I’d landed on a couple that could maybe help a little bit. I gnawed on my lower lip as my eyes quickly scanned over the words. Then with a nod, I used a pen to transcribe the cliff notes version over to my palm, adding on to the ever growing list of useful tidbits that could now be found there.

Call it my Chit-Chat Cheat Sheet. That’s right, folks, you’re witnessing a crucial life hack in the making. This handy-dandy little list was going to be my one-stop shop to social butterfly success. Look out, new pals of mine, you were about to be friended so hard. I was going to friend your butts off! This was-

“Hey, I also like to doodle on my hand whenever I’m bored outta m-”

With a half gasp, half yelp, I jolted up straight, wide eyes discovering Lea now standing on the other side of the counter from me. He brought up his hands, “Woah now, sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you.”

My own hand flew up to cover my pounding heart as I breathed out and shook my head. “No. No, it’s fine, I should’ve been paying more-” My fingers flexed, closing around empty air. My brow furrowed. “Wait…” Where did my-? Did I drop it? “...I had a pen.”

It suddenly blurred down from up above to crash land into the countertop, making us both flinch and jerk back slightly.

Oh. Heh. There it was.

“Sorry about that,” I gave a weak laugh, retrieving the writing implement and giving it a little waggle as I held it up. “I… guess I still got a few kinks to work out before I can successfully launch the first unmanned pencraft into orbit.”

...wow, did that stupid joke really just come out of me?

Must. Resist. Urge. To. Wince.

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Might I suggest waiting for a day when the weather forecast reports zero chance of ceiling?” he pointed up.

I nodded, “Good note. Excellent observation. Prime example of one of my kinks.” I blanched, then hastily stammered, “I mean the… one of the kinks that, uh, needs to be, er… worked... out.”

Ugh, what’s wrong with me? Why am I like this?

This is why I needed the list.

...crud! The list! My eyes darted to my palm where it was scrawled in plain view for all the world to bear witness. Then my gaze flicked to Lea, looking at me with an eyebrow cocked and one side of his lips turned up. Then I balled my fist and jammed it behind my back.

Had he seen?

He mustn’t know about my secret hacks!

That’s when I spotted it. Kristoff’s phone. Still on the counter between us. Still open to the WikiHow I’d been taking notes from. My other hand shot out and swatted the device away, sending it slamming into the wall on my right before clattering to the ground.

Oopsie. Sorry Kristoff!

Luckily he was currently out and about taking his ten. He’d never have to know. This could just be our little secret between the phone and me.

“Shit, what’d that poor thing ever do to you?”

...rather, between the phone, me, and Lea.

What had it done to me, he asks? It’d tried to rat me out, that’s what!

My eyes darted to one side. “...let’s just say the crime fits the punishment.”

Snitches get stitches.

He glanced to where the abused phone still lay abandoned on the tiled floor, then snorted and crossed his arms with a shake of his head, “If you say so.”

Alright, so this exchange so far? Could be going better. Not exactly textbook. Lot of room for improvement. But that was okay because (ba-dum ba-dum!) Chit-Chat Cheat Sheet to the rescue! It could salvage any social catastrophe! Let’s just watch it work its magic, shall we?

I shifted to bring my hand out in front of me once more, casually resting my palm face down against the countertop. Then I lifted it just barely enough to furtively peek at the first couple lines I’d written there.

Start with a warm, friendly greeting. Examples include…

I locked eyes with him. “Whassup.”

He blinked. “Um… hi?”

Nailed it.

Alright, now that a proper line of communication had officially been established in the most cordial manner, on to the next step: small talk. After sneaking another quick look at my notes, I pressed my hand back down again and recited the words I’d just glanced at, “So nice weather we’re having, huh? At least it’s not raining like last week.”

This list was a god send. Pure gold.

He squinted upward, scratching the back of his head. “Hasn’t it been sunny for months now?”

...fudge.

Abort, captain, abort! The first one was a dud! Quickly, lock and load the second one and fire!

I anxiously checked my palm again and latched onto the next line, reading out, “That’s an awesome shirt you’re wearing!”

He frowned down at it, eyebrows knitting together. “You mean my work polo? Not… really, but okay.”

Aaaaaaaand another swing and a miss!

Oh wise and powerful Chit-Chat Cheatsheet, why hast thou forsaken me here, now, in my greatest hour of need? Me, your most devout and faithful of followers? Me, who loved and worshipped you so?

Feeling my panic spiking, I looked to my hand again to find one more line I had yet to try. One final chance for salvation. This was it. My ace in the hole. List, don’t fail me now!

Desperate, I didn’t even register the words as my eyes snatched them from my palm, handed them off to my brain that then shoved them down the pipeline to my mouth which proceeded to blurt out verbatim, “So what do you do in your flamingo?”

...the list had failed me.

“I’m sorry, what does who do in the what and where now?”

And we’re talking like… epic failure.

I was just now realizing this was the one I’d been in the middle of jotting down when Lea had startled me. So chances were good that that sloppy mess of a scribble at the end of the sentence? Wasn’t actually the word flamingo.

At least, I hoped it wasn’t.

Whatever. I give up.

Puffing out a sigh as I pinched the bridge of my nose, I muttered, “You know what, forget it. I’m just… having a bit of a malfunction. One of those days, I guess.”

“Oh,” he chuckled, “no worries! Those come up all the time working customer service, so I totally get it.”

This guy was too nice. Here I was, spouting off nonsense like a gibbering baboon and he was just brushing it off like it was no big deal. Like it was an everyday occurrence for a person to ask him if he did lord only knows what to a neon pink bird. I should get on with assisting him with whatever he’d come over here for. It was the least I could do in exchange for him putting up with the trainwreck that was me. Taking a deep breath and putting on a smile, I asked, “So what can I help you with today?”

He returned the smile, “Take a wild guess.”

I glanced around my work space. “Ice cream?”

“Got it in one,” his thumb went up. “I’m a total addict by the way, so you’ll be seeing a lot of me.”

“I’m sure your dentist says the same thing,” I deadpanned, pressing my finger to a button on the cash register. “Sea Salt, right?”

“You’re on a roll today!”

My grin twitched wider. He was so much better at this small talk thing than me. “How would you like it?”

“I like my ice cream like I like my women: swirly and in a waffle cone,” he winked, tossing out some finger guns.

...I take that back, this dork was just as clueless as I was. Had to be if he thought that was funny.

I merely arched an eyebrow at him as the silence stretched. Then he pouted, “Aw c’mon, kid, these are the jokes! Don’t leave me hanging here.”

I snorted, tapping a couple more keys on the register. “Sorry. It’s just that after the other day, I would have thought your answer would’ve been more along the lines of ‘frozen solid and on a stick.’”

“Oo, dirty,” he chirped, his eyebrows bouncing.

Welp. That’d teach me for trying to play along.

“But no,” he waved off, “that was more out of necessity. Only the ice cream bars can survive the long trip up the clocktower without melting first. Otherwise, give me creamy, fluffy, and with a twist any day!”

“Duly noted. Just a sec.” I turned, plucking one of the cones off the top of the stack as I walked past, approaching the soft serve/milkshake machine.

Ah, my old nemesis. We meet again. One could almost hear the Old West face-off tune whistling in the background. But thankfully, there would be no drawing of pistols this day. 

I liked to think there was a grudging, mutual respect between us now.

Being super mindful of the Anger Button, I switched it to the appropriate flavor and pulled down on the lever. As I moved the cone in small circles while it slowly filled with blue, sugary goop, I heard Lea ask, “Snow Bear?”

I looked back at him, a crease forming between my eyebrows as I tipped my head to one side.

...what’d he just call me?

He was hunched forward now, elbow on the countertop and chin propped in hand, fingers drumming against his cheek as he squinted at me with a frown. Then shook his head, “Nah, too healthy, even for a goody-goody like you. Tofu has no business being anywhere near ice cream.”

Then it clicked. Snow Bear was one of the flavors we offered.

“Big Bad Pete?” he pursed his lips to one side, then crinkled his nose. “Nope. Too nutty. Thinking you like a crunch, just not that kind.”

I returned my attention to the machine, making sure the cone wasn’t too top heavy. “Are you… trying to guess the type of ice cream I like?”

“Yup! Since Sea Salt clearly wasn’t your thing.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say that.” I released the lever, completing the stacking spiral with a nice little curl at the top and turning to face him once more. “But it is… shall we say, an acquired taste?”

Lea smirked and scoffed, “Blasphemy! Don’t worry though, I won’t judge you too harshly for your dirty, heathen tastes.”

“You’re too kind,” I rolled my eyes as I handed him his purchase.

Taking it in one hand, he used the other to give me the munny due. “Consider it my one good deed for the century. It’s a doozy though. I’m expecting my sainthood any day now.”  He then lapped off a big blue chunk as he eyed me thoughtfully. “Donald Fizz maybe?” Then he pulled a face with another shake of his head, “Nu uh, too close to Sea Salt.”

“If you really want to know that badly, it’s-”

“Buh buh buh,” he pressed a finger to my lips, cutting me off. “Yeesh, don’t spoil my fun like that, let me guess! This is like my mutant power, I can always tell a person’s fave ice cream.” He narrowed his eyes on me as he took another bite, licking some of it off from the corner of his mouth. “You’re a tough read though. Gonna need more time, gather more intel.” A grin broke out again, “But I do oh so love a challenge.” Then he snapped his fingers, “What about-”

“Elsa?!” 

My blood ran cold at the voice that cried out from across the food court.

A very, very familiar voice.

One I had not expected to hear again for a while yet and certainly not here, at the Dusk Town Center mall, at my sanctuary of all places.

Lea glanced over his shoulder, looking for who’d interrupted him before yelping and leaping out of the way so as not to become roadkill to an auburn and blue blur zooming straight for me. It crashed up against the other side of the counter, lashed its limbs out over the top and seized me in its vice-like grip, yanking me forward into a bone-crushing embrace and squeezing the absolute life out of me as it once more shouted, “Elsa! I found you! At last, I found you!”

Or rather… not it, but her.

Anna Fryse.

My sister.

...who, as I was just now discovering, might also be part boa constrictor. Good lord, this girl did not know her own strength!

“Anna,” I wheezed, feebly patting at her elbow. An extraordinary feat, given that her bear hug was practically super gluing my arms to my sides. “Can’t. Breathe.”

“You’re okay! I was so worried! I thought you might be hurt or trapped or drugged or kidnapped or amnesiad or dead or, or, or- but you’re not! You’re really, really not! You’re alive!” 

“Won’t be for much longer if you don’t let go,” I croaked out, starting to see spots. Finally she released me and I gasped for breath. Ah, oxygen. Beautiful, life giving oxygen. I coughed, “Did you seriously just use ‘amnesia’ as a verb?”

Completely ignoring my question, her hands still grasped tightly at my shoulders as sharp, blue eyes set in a freckled face looked me over. Her red hair was done in pigtail braids and she was in a dark cobalt sundress with a black bodice.

Then she opened her mouth.

“Woah, Elsa! You look different! It’s a good different! I love everything about it!” She grabbed me by the cheeks, “Your face, the outfit, that hat - oh gosh, that hat! I never thought I’d see you in a friggin’ baseball cap! It’s too friggin’ cute! And a ponytail! How many times have I said you’d look totes adorbs in a ponytail, and you know what? Told you so! And- oh. My. Gawd!” She bellyflopped onto the countertop, pointing down, “I just saw the mini skirt! Friggin’ you! In a friggin’ mini skirt! Damn girl, you hawt!” She fell back onto her feet once more, looking up at our sign, “And this place! What is this place? This place is amazing! Do you work here? Please, please, please tell me you work here! Oh my gawd, you do! You have a friggin’ job! What do you do? How much do you make? Do you pay taxes? Do you pay rent? Do you have a 401k? What is a 401k?” She pointed at an ice cream spade, “What’s this thingie do?” Next at the soft serve/milkshake machine, “How does that work?” Up at a dangling Sven plushie. “What’s up with all the friggin’ deers?” Then at Lea standing off to one side, slowly eating his ice cream and watching on with one curious eyebrow quirked. “Who’s the hottie with a body?” She started to wave, calling out, “Hello, Mr Hottie-With-A-Bo-”

“Anna!” I hissed, cheeks roasting as I snatched her hand back down. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Lea returning her wave with a tiny one of his own, to which I shot him a dull stare. He just grinned and shrugged. Shaking my head, I asked him, “Could you, uh… would you mind giving us a minute alone? Please?”

“Sure, no problem. I should be getting back to work anyhow. Laters, El!”

...El? Who’s El?

“Nice meeting ya, El’s friend!” he gave a two finger salute to Anna with a wink before sauntering off.

Huh. Guess that’d make me El. I’d earned a nickname. Had our friendship leveled up? Wow, I was so good at this friends thing! Without even understanding it, I had somehow already mastered it.

Bravo, me!

Anna watched him go, then turned back to me with a low whistle. “Okay, seriously, who was the sexpot and please, for the love that is all that is good and foxy, tell me you are tapping that.”

“Oh my god, Anna!” I facepalmed. I wasn’t going to dignify that with a response. “What are you even doing here?”

“I told you already, I was worried!”

My forehead wrinkled. “But you knew I wasn’t abducted or anything, you were the one who helped me run away. Besides, didn’t you receive my text telling you I was okay?”

“Yes, weeks after you disappeared!” She smacked me in the arm with a glare. “You could have contacted me sooner, brat! And what the frick was up with your stupid text?!”

“Stupid...? What was wrong with it?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry, don’t come looking for me,” she flatly recited the words from my message before looking away with a huff. “Please, have you never seen any kidnap movie in the history of like friggin’ ever? That’s like classic code for ‘help me, help me, I’ve been taken hostage and am being forced to tell you these things under duress.’”

“Ugh, the way your mind works,” I grumbled, massaging one temple. “How did you even find me anyway?”

Anna snorted. “What, you think just cuz you blocked my number that I wouldn’t be able to track you down? Sis, please, we live in the golden age of technology. Trust me, I have my ways. There’s a lot a girl can do with just a phone number and this little thing called the internet.”

I opened my mouth to retort, but then froze with a gasp as another thought struck me and nearly stopped my heart. My eyes darted about, searching the food court while I fidgeted with my fingers. “Wait… oh god, does… do Mother and Father… do they know? Are they also here? Did you tell-”

She gently shushed me, reaching over the countertop to rub my arm. “Sis, Sis, it’s okay, they’re not here, don’t stress! I did tell them I got the text from you so they’d know you’re okay, but I didn’t tell them I’d figured out where you were. They don’t know that I came here looking for you. You don’t have to talk to them until you’re ready.”

“Oh thank god,” I sighed, slumping against the counter. That… was a talk I was in no way prepared for. Not just yet. I gnawed on my lower lip for a second, glancing back up at Anna. “What about-”

“He’s fine too,” she said softly.

I frowned. “...really?”

Her face pinched into a tiny grimace. “I mean, he’s not great. He got dumped at the altar, what do you think? But he’s a big boy, he’ll survive.”

Well that was a load off my mind.

Not. 

“Ugh, I feel terrible,” I buried my face in my hands. Then I peeked out between my fingers at her. “Could you… I don’t know… maybe do damage control with him for me or something?”

“Was already on it,” she beamed with a thumbs up. “But enough about all that, gah, so friggin’ depressing! I wanna hear more about you and your new life and this whole job thing and that redheaded Hunky McHunkface and all that’s happened to you since you flew the coop! Tell me everything!”

A tiny smile crept up onto my lips. I knew I’d been missing my little sister, but it was only in that moment... seeing her here in front of me, hearing her voice again... that I was realizing just how much. “I’d actually really like that. But uh…” I looked past her, noticing more shoppers wondering about amongst those tables out there now than there had been just moments ago, with even more trickling in by the second. “Looks like we’re about to get our afternoon rush, so it’s not really the best time.”

Anna tapped her chin with a low hum before her face lit back up. “Are you free tonight?”

My head tilted to the left. “I’m working closing, but I should be out of here by nine I think.”

“Perfect! Let’s do dinner! Then we can properly celebrate your new found freedom as you tell me all about it! Whaddya say? Pleeeeease?” Puppy dog eyes initiated.

I laughed and nodded. “Yeah, okay. That sounds nice.”

“Yay!” she bounced on her heels, rapidly clapping her hands together with a tiny squeal. “Ahhhh! Can’t wait! Okay, you said nine, right? Right! I’ll be waiting in my car right outside those doors over there, got it? Good! I’ll leave you to it then!” Then she was snatching me into another hug over the countertop and planting a kiss on my cheek with a loud mwah! “Love ya, Sis! See you then!”

And just like that, Typhoon Anna whooshed off once again, disappearing into the ever growing crowd.

Not a second later, I heard the door open behind me. “Hey, I’m back, sorry it ran a little long, I- hey, why’s my phone on the floor?”

I winced.

Heh… woops.

One tiny detail may have slipped my mind in all the mayhem that had been the last ten minutes.

I turned to see Kristoff stooping down to pick it up before he graced me with a scowl.  I chuckled sheepishly, “So… funny story…”

I got the feeling Kristoff hadn’t found my story all that amusing.

Don’t think he’d found it particularly believable either.

Not sure why. I mean, wasn’t it totally plausible that a strong gust of wind had blasted through the entire mall, causing one of the bigger reindeer dolls to fly off its hook and rocket straight into my hands, knocking his phone free from my grasp and sending it slamming into a wall where I had then left it for fear that moving it could cause more damage and trauma to the poor little device that had already been through so much?

No? Not plausible? Not even remotely or in the slightest?

Drat.

I'd never really been good at the whole lying thing.

But it'd been the best I could come up with on the spot. I mean, I wasn’t about to tell him the truth about how I was a total, pathetic dunce when it came to making friends which in turn caused me to do idiotic things like fling other’s people’s fragile property at hard surfaces.

In any case, Kristoff and I were currently not on speaking terms.

At least, I’m pretty sure we weren’t. That was my best guess anyway, given he hadn’t spoken two words to me since I’d spun my little tale.

Eh, he’d get over it.

A couple hours of the silent treatment later and he’d clocked out without so much as a goodbye. Then a few more hours brought me to the here and now of closing time. I was almost done wrapping everything up, just needed to finish wiping down all the surfaces. Having already ensured the inside of the little shop was pristine, I’d stepped out to be on the food court side of the counter, using a cloth to remove any fingerprints and other smudges that’d been left by customers on the display glass.

As I finished cleaning the last of it, I exhaled heavily and straightened up, planting my hands on my hips as I inspected my work. Nodding in approval at a job well done, I then looked to the clock on the wall to see that it was a quarter to nine. Perfect. Plenty of time to grab my things and lock up before heading out to meet Anna. Stretching my back to loosen some of the stiffness that had settled in there, I then took a quick glance over my shoulder.

It really should come as a shock to no one at this point that Lea could once again be spotted across the way from me. I was beginning to think the people in charge of scheduling our shifts met up for weekly tea and crumpets or something while they made sure the hours the two of us worked almost always lined up exactly. What nefarious scheme was being cooked up by the upper management of our two separate companies? What could they possibly hope to gain by it? Only time would tell.

In any case, he too looked to be almost done with all of his closing tasks. He was currently out in the food court area as well, using a broom to sweep up the area in front of Pizza Planet. Or so I’m sure the intent had been.

Except... he wasn’t really so much in front of the pizzeria as he was on top of one of the tables.

And it wasn’t so much a broom as it was an impromptu mic.

And he wasn’t so much sweeping as he was in his own little world, enthusiastically lip-syncing and dancing away to the song blasting out of his phone in the back pocket of his pants. I Believe In A Thing Called Love by the Darkness, if the wild electric guitar, high falsetto vocals, and cheesy lyrics were anything to go off of.

Wow, he really was a complete dork.

A splutter of a laugh burst out of me before I was able to clamp both my hands over my mouth in a vain effort to stop it.

I’m not sure how he heard me over all that explosive glam rock, but it seemed he did somehow for his head suddenly jerked in my direction. Then he beamed and started hopping across all the tabletops towards me. That couldn’t be sanitary. His feet at last touched ground in front of the Ice Palace as he crouched low before springing back up into a half-turn, landing himself in a seat atop the counter right between the ice cream display case and a cash register.

Still directing that ear-to-ear smile my way, he pulled his phone out long enough to hit pause on his music. “So whadja think? Do I put on one hell of a show or what?” 

Oh dear. Not only a dork but no shame to boot. A deadly combo, that.

I snorted, eyes on the glass once more as I went back to scrubbing it for the now nonexistent spots. “For sure. You should hurry up and get on becoming a bigtime rock star already.”

Broom balanced on the floor between his knees, he folded his hands over the handle point and rested his chin on his knuckles. “Nah, all that fame and fortune I’m guaranteed to get cuz I’m so loveable, awesome, amazing and cool would go straight to my head.”

I bit back a grin. “Because you’re so modest now.”

“Oh yeah, I’m humble as fuck!” he declared brightly. Then he shrugged and sighed, “Guess I’m just kinda perfection that way.”

My eyelids drooped. “...clearly.”

“So,” he lifted his head off its perch, freeing up one hand to scratch behind his ear, “everything okay? Between you and your sister, I mean.”

I looked at him, blinking a couple times. “How’d you know she‘s my sister?”

“You two got the same nose,” he smirked, tapping a finger to the side of his. “But seriously, you all good? She seemed pretty frantic.”

“Oh, that’s just Anna for you. The Looney Toons Tasmanian Devil personified. Pretty sure she doesn’t even know the meaning of the word ‘calm.’ But no, she’s fine. We’re good.”

“Glad to hear it!” A pause. “So…” he said again, this time stretching the word out as he bounced the broom handle back and forth between his palms now. “...you eat, right?”

Hand still absently running the cloth along the glass, I raised an eyebrow at him. What kind of question was that? “...I have been known to on occasion, yes.”

“Good. Any dinner plans tonight?”

I froze, eyes round.

Oh.

...was he asking what I think he was asking? I think he was asking what I think he was asking. Why would he ask that?! Wait... oh no… did he think that I was thinking that he should ask what I think he was asking? Because if that’s what he thought I was thinking, I most certainly was not thinking that!  Not even close! Unless… did this here right now count as me thinking that?

...hold up, now I’m confused... what was I thinking again?

Oh that’s right.

I was thinking about him.

Asking.

Me.

Out.

Which I was so not ready for! I mean come on, I had just gotten out of a long term relationship! What was that rule? The one about how long after a breakup before you should start dating again? Something about waiting at least thirty minutes before getting back in the - 

Wait no, that had to do with eating and pools…

Whatever, gah! However much time it’s supposed to be, pretty sure it’s more than just a few weeks if you’d not only been together for years, but also frigging engaged to your ex! 

Current relationship status aside, let’s just be real here... I’m not sure if this was something I would ever be ready for. Hello, Mayor of Hermit Island here! They throw hermit parades in my honor. Those parades have zero spectators and consist of one (1) person marching, that person being me, all alone, by myself, because it’s Hermit Island and kind of the whole point! It was sort of a miracle I’d ever started dating in the first place, much less wound up with a fiancé of all things! When you think about it, and I mean really think about it… how the frick had that even happened?! I’d been there, heck, I’d lived it and even I was still scratching my head over that one. I mean, how had I ever-

“Hey now, what’s with the-?” Lea’s words broke me out of the word jumble that was my brain and my eyes darted over to him. His furrowed brow suddenly went slack and he blinked, heading rocking back. “Hold on, you don’t think that I- That I’m asking you out on a- No! God no! No, no, no, that’s not what this is!” 

Oh thank goodness!

Wait… how did he know that’s what I’d been thinking?

...could it be the fact that all the color had drained from my face and I had stopped breathing?

Speaking of which, I should really start that back up again.

Okay, all together now, one, two, three annnnnd sharp, deep inhale.

Whew, much better! Man, oxygen and I were having a real on-again, off-again relationship today.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with y- I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to- that is, uh… aw, crap,” he groaned, bonking his head against the top of the broom handle. “Forget it. Look, what I was trying to say was we - that is, the kiddos and I and a buncha other people who work at other stores 'round the mall, all of us get together every Friday night for food and drinks at the 7th Heaven. It’s this nice little pub not too far from here and I dunno if booze is your thing or what, but the grub’s pretty good there too, way better than your average bar food and so I was just wondering if you’d like to, I dunno… come join us and just hang out for a bit, have some fun. Interested?”

Ooooooooooh, got it! Well that was a relief!

...wait, was it?

Oh dear, just the thought of me having to interact with that many people all at the same time was enough to make my soul leave my body. Because once again, I have to play the President of Hermit Island card here. That’s right, I’d promoted myself from mayor to president within the last five minutes. I like to think I’d earned it after all my years of exemplary hermit service.

The point was, this little get-together sounded precisely like the kind of situation that I wanted to be on the polar opposite end of the planet from. Seriously, the Devil himself could not have designed a more fitting hell for me. Don’t get me wrong, it was sweet that Lea had thought to include me and I’m sure all the other people going would be nice and everything, but... I just couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. Not with the cold, stabbing pangs of anxiety already coursing throughout my chest at even the mere mention of going to such a thing.

Luckily, I didn’t have to. I had an out. A beautiful, glorious escape route courtesy of the one, the only, my savior (queue angelic choir singing)... Anna.

Clearing my throat, I managed a small smile. “Thank you, I appreciate the invite, I really do and I’m so sorry but I’ve already made plans with my sister. Speaking of,” I glanced at the clock again before hurrying past him and back into the Ice Palace to drop off the cleaning rag, “I really should be going now, she’s probably already waiting for me.”

He slid off the countertop, spinning around to face me with a frown. “Aw, ya sure? Why don’t you just bring her along too? We won’t mind, the more the merrier!”

Still with the smile, now accompanied by a slight scrunching of my nose, I shook my head. “Mm, no, I don’t think that’ll work. But maybe next time, okay?” Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I stepped out from behind the counter once more and stretched up on my tippy-toes, reaching for the pull-down gate. Crud, why was I always so stupidly short?

“Let me.” Him being the absolute Ent that he was, Lea had no trouble whatsoever reaching it and yanking it down for me.

“Thanks,” I murmured before locking it up for the night, then turning and making my way towards the double doors leading outside.

“Hang on, I’ll walk you out,” he said, bringing me up short.

Turning my head back towards him, I held up a hand, “Oh no, that’s fine, you don’t have to!”

“I’m heading that way anyway.” He started walking away backwards, jerking a thumb over his shoulder towards the Pizza Planet, “Just let me close up shop real quick.”

“Really, it’s not necessary. I’m just going to-”

“Be back in a sec!” he spun one-eighty, jogging off.

“...go,” I finished weakly.

Well now what? I guess maybe I should wait? My eyes shifted to the doors longingly.

...well, I did tell him he didn’t need to walk me. Not my fault he couldn’t hear me over the sound of his own chivalry.

Screw it. I’m leaving.

With a small grimace and one last peek back to where Lea had just disappeared, I turned away, squared my shoulders and strode off.

Pushing through the exit doors and out into the night air, I spotted Anna parked at the curb right in front of me in her bright red Porsche convertible, its top already folded back. She honked at me, calling, “Hey, hot stuff! Looking for a good time?”

I merely grinned and shook my head at her as I approached the vehicle. However, just as I was reaching for the car door, a voice called out behind me, “Wait up!”

I winced, screwing my eyes shut.

Fudge.

Lea came to a stop next to me, panting and hunching forward, planting his hands on his knees. He must have been running the whole way to make sure he caught me before I could esc- erm, I mean, before I left. He lifted his head, blasting us with the full force of those dimples of his as his gaze flicked back and forth between me and Anna. “You sure you ladies can’t join us tonight?”

“Thanks, but-”

“Join you for what?” Anna cut me off, scooting closer by shifting from the driver's seat to the passenger, arms folding across the top of the door.

This. Right here. This was exactly why I hadn’t wanted him to walk me out.

“Nothing big,” Lea straightened up, placing a hand on the car door as well and leaning against it. “Just drinks and food with some friends from work. If you can’t change your plans though, that’s totally cool, I just wanted to-”

Because once Anna found out...

“What are you talking about?!” she laughed. “Of course we can change our plans! That sounds so fun, count us in!”

…there was no way I was getting out of it. Ugh.

“Wha- really?” No doubt about it. He was quite pleasantly surprised. “Great! The place we’re meeting at is called 7th Heaven. Short drive from here.” He waved to another car parked a few spaces further down the curb, which responded by flashing its blinkers, “That’s Xion. She drew the short straw for designated driver tonight. Just follow her car and she’ll lead you right to it!”

“Sounds good! See you there!” she waggled her fingers at Lea as he dashed off to get into the other car. Then she scooched back over behind the wheel, making room for me. Face pinching just a smidge, I sighed and got in, slamming the door shut behind me. Bouncing in her seat as she started the engine, she chirped, “Wow, we lucked out! This is gonna be a blast! You excited?”

“...thrilled,” I said dryly, buckling myself in.

Welp. Let’s get this over with.

Personal hell, here I come.

Author’s note: Ahhhh, there she is! Elsa’s feisty-pants lil sister makes her debut! Also, notice how much Anna says friggin’? Now those sound more fitting coming out of her, but Elsa grew up hearing those friggin’s (and fricks) coming out of her sis for years now, so it may have rubbed off on her a lil. Also the last name Fryse? Norwegian for ‘freeze’... yeah, I got a lil punny in coming up with Elsa’s family name, ignore me and my silly lil pleasures xD And more BBS ice creams sneak into this chapter - and I was mindful of their in-game descriptions too, so yes, it is in fact canon in the video game that the Snow Bear flavor has *shudders* tofu in it. TOFU. In ICE CREAM. Thanks, but no thanks!

Anyway, moving on! Now Anna drags our dear antisocial hermit off on an unwanted adventure! What’s next for our intrepid heroine? Will she survive this dreaded night of socializing? Just who exactly will be at Friday night drinks anyway? And with the sheer volume of ice cream Lea probably consumes daily, just HOW massive must his dentist bill be at this point, I mean really?? We may never know the answer to that last question, but as for the rest, stay tuned to find out next chapter!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to any new followers out there (hello! :D) and to those of you who hit that like button last chapter, seeing that always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

[tonal-modulator]

11. In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been? For Ildari and/or whoever you want

Ildari has a couple contenders, I think. First was when they took her from the Imperial City's Prison without explanation. She'd been there for a couple weeks, had already given up hope of having a trial (and she didn't commit the crime she was accused of, but that really didn't matter), and when they just yanked her out and started leading her somewhere she figured, welp, they're going to kill me. And she was just totally powerless to do anything at all.

The next time was when she put on the ring Moon-and-Star. She didn't have her Nerevar memories back yet, so as far as she knew, this ring was going to kill her. I honestly don't know what compelled her to even put it on, other than maybe the thought that if nothing else, it would be appropriate to die in the Cavern of the Incarnate with the other failed incarnates. Or maybe Azura compelled her, or maybe a little bit of her knew it would be okay. Either way, she definitely feared for her life.

The next time was finding Sotha Sil dead and turning around to find Almalexia behind her. That wasn't just fear for her own life, but the absolute despair that her friends were gone and she would never be able to reconnect with them—one had killed the other and was about to try to kill her, and one or both of them would also end up dead by the end of the ensuing fight.

Getting killed by Mannimarco was also terrifying, because she had no idea it was going to happen. She just went to the "Benefactor" thinking they'd be some agent of Azura and ends up knocked out and sacrificed by a necromancer, once again totally powerless, though this time she had done enough hero-ing so far that she felt like she should have been able to do something.

Yeah, Ildari's been through a lot, I guess.

Okay, other kids...

For Lior, it was when Azura tapped into her mind and took her memories. She had lived in relative comfort prior to her mission to Nirn, and Daedra don't often have much to fear. But she was pretty terrified going into that conversation, thinking that Azura would yell at her or confine her to Oblivion for a few centuries or something, but she didn't expect a complete violation of her autonomy that she just had to sit through despite her attempts to resist it.

For Minmari, it was probably when an assassin came for Lior with special poison from Azura to try to kill and reclaim her. It wasn't so much a matter of "oh I'll miss my gf :/" but rather "I can't allow her to be locked away and subjected to whatever horrors Azura wants to put her through."

For Milia, getting killed by Mannimarco was terrifying, but it was more traumatic than in-the-moment fear. Like it left her with a long-lasting fear of getting killed (again) or being out of control and unable to defend herself. But as for the biggest immediate fear, it was probably stepping out of the Palace of Vivec (around the end of the Vvardenfell questline) and watching Baar Dau plummet toward them. Because she thought she had failed, that everything was lost, and she was away from home and away from Tal (technically I don't think they were together yet but let's pretend), and didn't have time to do anything, couldn't fight a moonlet, and basically everything was going to end very badly right now. (She later chastises herself for her lack of faith, and probably has to talk about it with Vivec at some point to get it off her chest.)

Talvini probably gets scared every time Milia does something dangerous. And, since Milia is a Buoyant Armiger who lives well into the Third Era, she does a lot of dangerous things.

Okay I think that's all for now. Thank you! :D

[dragonleesupporter]

Teach Me How to Feel

Summary: Logan won’t admit he has feelings, and constantly overworks himself. After a long time of keeping this up this act, his being finally gives out, much to everyone’s horror. (LAMP, or all sides shipped, with slight intensity toward Logicality)

 Logan sat up, head throbbing and eyes barely being able to open. Confusion quickly turned into panic as his throat clenched. What was this? It felt like he was being strangled! It felt like-

 …

 “Logan?” Patton asked worriedly as the logical trait woke from his daze.

 He had been feeling terrible all day. His wings were stiff, his normally organized thoughts kept wondering, and he repeatedly had to resist the tightening feeling around his neck. This was normal for Logan, but he never told the others, thinking that he could take on the challenges on his own. The others had their own business to attend to, and Logan couldn’t get caught up in feelings to slow him down.

 “Logan, are you feeling alright?” Patton nudged him slightly as Roman opened his special gift from Patton. Virgil had already gotten a purple stress ball from the moral side, and the prince was excited to finally see what Patton had gotten him.

 “Quite alright, Patton.” Logan lied, adjusting his tie. “Something may be off-balance with Thomas, but I’ll figure out what. It’s definitely not me.” The tightening got worse, as it normally did when Logan lied, but it wasn’t a big deal to him. He had been dealing with this stiffness on a day-to-day basis since before he could remember.

 “Just take it easy, okay teach?” The light blue side smiled at him and then turned to Roman whose eyes were shining as he took out a deep red cape, lined with gold and jewels. Even Logan had to admit it was stunning to the eye.

 “Welp, I’m off to neverland!” Roman took off flying not a moment after the cape had been fastened to his shoulders, dashing up the stairs in one giant red blur.

 “I’ve got to keep him under control. He’s gonna break something with this much excitement.” Virgil rolled his eyes and flew after the prince with Patton in tow shouting “Fly day!”

 And there Logan sat, at the empty table. The feeling was now spreading to his chest, squeezing his ribs harshly as he silently gasped for air. That was new… Normally it just stayed with his neck and back.

 “I guess I’ll be off to discover that flaw in the system.” He mumbled to an empty table before calmly walking up the stairs to his room.

 Despite the pain, he forced himself to the chair of his desk, where he tried some breathing exercises Virgil had talked to him about. He typed up different things that could be affecting Thomas negatively, keeping stats and checking over his plans for the next few weeks. The pain he normally felt every day was getting worse than usual though, and the dark blue trait couldn’t help but worry if something had gone wrong. He didn’t want to interrupt his host by visiting him directly, since he was in the middle of hanging out with a big group of friends, and it would be considered rude to barge in while they were having fun.

 The teacher groaned as another wave of pain hit him. Why was it getting worse? Usually, it didn’t get this bad. Logan had just accepted it as a part of his every day life, not even all that curious to what it was, but now he was wondering if he should find out what’s causing it to increase by such an amount.

 “H-how can that be? I’ve been eating right, sleeping regularly… doing my job… what else could it be?” He typed up his symptoms, and, of course, no clear answer was given. But something stirred his interest when he saw “Top 10 Problems You Might Not Know You Have.”  

 He clicked.

 “PTSD… Sleep Deprecation… Anxiety Disorder…” He chuckled slightly at that one, the thought of Virgil slightly fond in his mind. “Loneliness…” He stopped, reading over the symptoms a second time… then a third time... “Loneliness…” He echoed, grasping his chest. He continued down the list, trying to ignore what felt like a sea urchin growing in his chest. “Asthma… Depression… Over Stress…” He paused again. “Over Stress…?” He read the symptoms and grew frustrated.

 “But I can’t feel lonely! I can’t feel stressed! I can’t feel at all!” He argued with his lifeless computer as he got up from his chair to pace, arms crossed with a hand on his chin. “This should be more of a problem relating to Patton… but he seems just fine! AH!” Logan had to cover his mouth as muffled shrieks escaped his lips. His chest felt like it was going to cave in. Why did he feel so empty? Why did it hurt so much?

 “I am the logical side!” He squeezed his eyes shut as he defiantly pointed a finger at the empty room.

 Or what he at least thought was an empty room.

 “Oh, I know you are.” A nasally voice came from behind him.

 “Ah!” Logan turned around quickly, the motion making him extremely dizzy, as a familiar greenish glow was seen in the corner of his room, a dark silhouette taking form.

 “In fact, I think I know more about you being a logical side then you do.” Remus smiled madly as he came into full view.

 “Oh, what do you want?” Logan rolled his eyes, but his expression of annoyance was wiped off as he clutched his chest again, agony making his sight blur.

 “Logan, you’re being stupid.” Remus’s smile grew as Logan’s anger showed.

 He REALLY didn’t like being called that, and any other day Remus would’ve been clocked in the face by a book for such a remark. But Logan was losing energy fast.

 “I’m… not…” He choked out, but couldn’t finish his sentence with gentle whimpers escaping him instead, raking his hands through his hair as if that would stop the hands squeezing his insides.

 “I don’t understand why you can’t just put two and two together.” Remus teased, wrapping his arms around Logan, who didn’t have the energy to fight him off.

 “Thomas is spit evenly into us, yes?” Remus mused as Logan nodded slowly.

 “Y-yes…”

 “But how come Patton, Virgil, and even my dumb brother, have the ability to think if that’s your department? Come on, dork, think!” Remus wrestled Logan slightly, who was trying to piece everything together, but his senses kept getting scrambled.

 “Perhaps, this might help…” The logical side knew that tone. That was the tone the duke used whenever he was about to go down a distractingly long list of everything that could go wrong in the worst way.

 Normally, Logan would be able to deal with the intrusive thoughts, but in his current state, Remus was more of a threat than usual.

 “The others never coming back from their ‘Fly Day.’” Remus growled as the logical side moaned out a “no…”

 “Your good intentions and common sense failing you, when your family needs it the most…” If Logan’s depression was a fine wine, Remus would be constantly filling it up and sucking it dry.

 “What if all that hurt inside of you is just your organs failing? Leaking fluid into each other until they explode from inside of you?” The duke’s grasp on the dark blue trait tightened as Logan tried to escape.

 “N-nice try, Remus… But since I’m only a figure of- OW!” The weaker started to curl in on himself as the pain hardened into what felt like rocks filling his chest and stomach, and though he knew Remus’s suggestion was absurd, it didn’t help that Logan felt pressure building up inside him. It really did feel like he was going to explode. His back felt like a sheet of cement, and everything felt as if it was about to shatter.

 Remus growled about more disturbing or ridiculous events as Logan felt weaker and weaker. Remus was finally towering over logic, his biggest barrier, and he was about to go in for the kill.

 “I knew something felt off.” A voice suddenly came from the doorway. “Get out.”

 “Zombie incest…” The green side grumbled before pulling away from Logan, who groaned as the feeling of a thousand tiny knifes struck his arms and legs.

 After Remus had left, Virgil turned his attention to the dark blue side.

 “You’re not looking too good…” His face scrunched with worry as the logical side pulled his hands over his face.

 “V-Virgil…? Is that… you? I… c-can’t see any… thing…” The teacher reached around blindly, looking for anyone who could’ve been in the room with him. The room was spinning around him and every wall he looked at reflected the darkness he felt digging into him from all sides.

 Logan’s voice was alarmingly faint, but before the anxious trait could do anything, the silhouette before him suddenly fell to the floor, shaking wildly.

 It hurt so much. He was being stabbed, injected, slapped, kicked, and crushed by a million different feelings of agony. His neck was the worst, however, which felt like it had turned to stone.

 “LOGAN!” The purple side shouted as the logical trait’s consciousness faded.

 …

 Logan woke to find all three sides around him. Everything still hurt… but he felt some relief at the sight of his family.

 “And then he got what looked like a seizure and passed out!” Virgil was explaining to Roman who had his hand on his chin in thought.

 “Wha…” He tried to speak, but couldn’t seem to get his words out.

 “Sssshhhh…” Patton soothed and wrapped his arms around the teacher. “We’re here now, Lo.”

 The pain decreased slightly.

 “O-oh!” Logan’s eyes widened at the release. “Th-that helped…”

 “Well if that’s the case…” Roman started hugging the dark blue trait as well, with Virgil following close behind.

 Logan’s muscles relaxed a tiny bit for the first time in forever, and an unprofessional-sounding groan escaped him, but he could care less.

 “You’ve overworked yourself, haven’t you?” The purple side broke the hug and asked, Logan nodding admittingly.

 “Not to worry, pocket protector. We’re going to give you the best massage you’ve ever felt!” Roman chanted and cooed, combing his hands through Logan’s disheveled hair.

 “But I don’t f-” Logan cut himself off, Remus’s words sticking with him. The other two broke the hug as well.

 If the others had the ability to think like he did… then he knew he had the ability to feel like the rest of them… He just didn’t want to admit it all this time.

 “What is it, Teach?” The red side raised an eyebrow as the weak trait took a deep breath.

 “I… I believe that… I…” Logan had trouble finding his voice for a second, but grew confident after a few moments of stuttering. The others backed up a few paces to give him space to think, but still kept their ears open as he found his words.

 “I can feel… emotions. It’s something I’ve never accepted. I wanted to be perfect, and I saw feelings as weakness. I keep thinking I can complete tasks independently, but I easily get overstressed and lonely, and ignore how I’m feeling to reestablish the thought that I obtain no such weakness. But with all of you accepting yourselves and each other, I think it’s time I came to terms with my own problems. Admittedly, this isn’t the first time I’ve felt this way. In fact, I’ve felt this pain every day. But today it worsened into something I never anticipated… Which is why I simply need to accept that I can’t be perfect, and that I do feel.” The room was silent, and Logan felt something wet on his face. His eyes burned and his chest heaved.

 “Oh no, Logan! Don’t cry!” Patton whined as he threw his arms around the teacher a second time.

 “No. He should cry. Let him feel the emotions. The good, and the bad.” Virgil murmured, taking a protective stance at the edge of the dark blue side’s bed.

 “You’re still so tense!” Patton exclaimed before placing a brief, loving kiss on the teacher’s forehead, surprising everyone in the room.

 “I-I-I-I…” Logan stuttered madly, his face flushing as the moral side kissed his head a second time.

 While Patton kept Logan stuttering like a skipping record player, Roman walked around to the logical side’s back. It was tense, as he expected. He could see each muscle constantly clenching together, his wings bolted to his back. Everything looked like it had been pierced with a sheet of ice, especially his neck.

 Logan gasped as he felt two thumbs dig into the joint where his neckline met his back. He instantly leaned back into Roman’s touch as the prince gently massaged him. Patton, followed him back, still planting small kisses all over his face. Meanwhile Virgil took of a picture of Logan’s rare smile that he suspected wouldn’t stay rare for much longer. After about an hour of relaxing the logical side, Roman conjured three other beds alongside Logan’s, heart-shaped pillows, and a giant blue blanket. The logical side smiled sweetly, feeling truly free for the first time.

 Logan yawned and curled up, being cuddled by the other three as they all wordlessly fell into peaceful rest.

 Waking up the next morning, the pain was gone entirely, and Logan had to admit to himself that made him feel extremely happy.

 And he was going to let it show.

[imagitory]

Could you do a star wars au, where Luke hadn't gone into hiding?

Welp, since I’ve now seen Rise of Skywalker, I guess I can now more appropriately respond to this!

1) When Ben falls to the Dark Side and becomes Kylo Ren, Luke initially blames himself for the mass murder of his students. He stands in the rain alone, staring at the terrible flames -- and then his heart drops further than ever before when he feels the approach of his sister. Leia arrives, her eyes full of grief, for she knows what’s happened. Her son is gone. Luke immediately tries to beg for his sister’s forgiveness, but Leia refuses to hear it. “We’re going after him, Luke,” she says. Despite the shame and guilt in his heart, Luke bows his head and follows his sister.

2) The next few years, the First Order terrorizes different branches of the galaxy, with Leia trying to defeat the First Order and Luke trying to mitigate the damage Kylo’s force have wrought. Luke is still unsure if there’s anything anyone could do to save Kylo -- since Luke’s not in hiding, Kylo viciously pursues Luke, doing everything he can to try to hunt him down and kill him once and for all. Because of this, Luke tries to stay away from the Resistance’s gathering points, so as to protect their location. There are points where the Resistance is frustrated with Luke, as he has so much power and yet only ever pacifies Kylo -- but Luke is too haunted by the memory of Vader and by what he views as his own failings when teaching Ben to ever consider killing Kylo.

3) At one point Luke senses Kylo on the planet of Jakku and goes to investigate. While there, he senses two unusually strong presences in the Force, both untrained and yet developed beyond their owners’ likely age. When he investigates, he comes across the supposed “Resistance member” Finn and scavenger Rey -- once they all successfully escape the First Order, Luke, Rey, Finn, and BB-8 escape in the Millennium Falcon.

4) Once on-board the Falcon, Luke immediately contacts Han, unable to resist the urge to tease him a bit about having found his ship. Rey almost immediately can’t stop herself from asking Luke all sorts of questions about the Rebellion and the Force, and Luke is reluctant to share much of anything. Both Rey and Finn are kind of surprised by how withdrawn Luke seems, but Finn is the one to figure out that it’s likely because he’s haunted by things from the past. Finn knows first-hand what that’s like. With this thought in mind, Rey tries to reach out to Luke again, a bit more gently, and Luke is quickly reminded of himself as a young boy. The thought intimidates him, given that he wouldn’t want Rey to make the same mistakes as him, and after some beating around the bush, he finally agrees to give Rey and Finn a few basic lessons. Just like canon, however, Rey has good instincts and follows along rather quickly -- Finn, although he’s less grandiose with his talent, shows a great talent for empathetic uses of the Force, such as reading others’ moods and communicating telepathically.

5) When Kylo Ren kills Han, because Luke was not detached from the Force like in canon, he senses it right away and reacts very harshly. For a brief moment, he loses all sense and rushes down to the planet to confront Kylo, who’s hot in combat with Rey after having taken down Finn. Rey has overpowered Kylo and is holding Anakin’s blue lightsaber over his head, and all of a sudden, Luke’s anger dissipates. For a brief moment, he sees himself holding his green lightsaber over Vader on the ground -- over Ben, sleeping in his bed -- and Luke shoots a hand out, snatching Anakin’s lightsaber away with the Force and into his hand. “Come on, Rey!” he urges her, as he moves to Finn’s side to carry him. “We’re finished here!” Getting her wits back, Rey dashes over to Finn as well, and the two carry him off quickly together, leaving Kylo behind. Kylo is too injured to follow, but he angrily bellows after them, “There is nowhere you can hide! You will be mine soon enough!” Luke closes his eyes in shame, but doesn’t respond.

AU Ask!