#he clearly does all of his ship maintenance alone and knows how to do it- but he does all of it alone

[waywardsalt]

linebeck is probably so god damn paranoid all of the time

[blue-pastel-cat]

Xiaobedo Fanfic Recommendation

Welcome to my personal “if you are new to xiaobedo peeps please read these” list. As said before this is my personal list so please feel free to reblog/comment/hit me for not including any gem here. I might miss a lot of them because I am drunk or blind. (mostly have them on my to read and then forgot as I am being assault by real life shit).

I would like to say first that so far there are 150+ Xiaobedo fics on Ao3. I can’t review all of them but I can say that I have read a majority of them. Most of them are just pure love and I would like nothing more than a thousands thank you for all the fic writers who spent their free time writting these gems for us to read for free. But these...these takes the cake as it finds a special landing spot in my heart that I would just thrust them into someone’s hand if they say “I am new to this ship can you recommend me?”

1. Orange dust by bobamilkteas (Wes)

In which Xiao learns to open himself up to the world a little more after the collapse of Rex lapis's contracts but it was not always easy for a soul doomed to eternal damnation. Meanwhile, Albedo liked to tempt fate where the extraordinary are concerned.

If only the traveler's comrades are made of saner bunch.

Comment: Long ago when I like both Albedo and Xiao as a character, I was wondering hmmm....will anyone actually even write about them lmao they never met each other. I am surprise to see this one as the 3rd fic in the whole 3 Xiaobedo fic on Ao3 (yeah back when there’s literally only 3 fic for this couple). I was like I’ll read it for the curiosity, I’ll probably won’t ship them. And that people is how I put my clown make up on my face upon finishing reading it. This ONE fic alone convert me into a devotee of Xiaobedo. Please consider joining me in this circus if you want to know what is Xiaobedo. I would put this as the first of my “Big 3″

Orange Dust also come with its compliation of short stories over the course of the game and a big sequel to it. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.

2. Solar Wind by birdpriestess (Sparrow)

For the yaksha, his duty was his life, and his life was his duty. No human could ever hope to understand the eternal war he fought out of sight and in silence.

So why, then, did he feel that Albedo would understand?

---

Finding himself at death's door once more, Xiao is saved by a surprising person, setting off the unlikeliest of adventures.

Comment: Do you like crying? Do you like the feeling of getting your heart ripped into pieces as the author destroy your emotions over the end of each chapter as the story picked up the climax? Yeah, this one is for you masochists. The action, the characterisation, the drama THE EMOTIONS OH WOW. I kid you not that it was so good I read this while workinng when I am not suppose to me. Also, this fic has my favourite characterisation of Gold ever. I love that dramatic queen Mad Alchemist. AND DAIN. I LOVE DAIN IN THIS FIC. Our dearest Sparrow manage to toy with our feelings like how I bully ruin guard for big numbers lmao. This is the secound of “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list.

Again, just like Orange Dust, Solar Wind comes with its own compliation of short stories of what came after that. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.

3. Castle of Glass by AlchemicalStardust (Morgie) 

A black shadow rises over Huaguang Stone Forest. Caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, Albedo flees the shaking ground and the crash of boulders tumbling form the sky. As the dust settles, Albedo finds a young man – an Adeptus – amidst the carnage. Despite the karmic agony ripping his body from the inside, Xiao’s only question is “How?” How did a human survive after witnessing his battle?

Comment: The last of the “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list. And it is still on going! Castle of Glass? More like I AM IN A GLASS CASE OF EMOTIONS! Have you read a fic about 2 people yearning, longing, reaching out for each other so damn well that you just want to throw your phone in the air as they both had their impending doom coming down upon them? Yeah this is one of them. You will like want to be stuck in the moment they express how much they just yearn for each other’s love and care that you want to shake the author for what comes next. Like...everytime Morgie update I am expressing my gratitude at the end of the chapter by writing on Xiaobedo discord “MORGIE COME HERE AND LET ME BONK YOU WHY ARE YOU ENDING IT THERE”

trust me when you read you will def feel the same. With just Big 3 and their compliation alone that would give you like a LONG list of reading already LMAOOOOOOO

4. Find a place to call it home  by yamajiroo 

Our room, he said. Xiao’s brow twitches. Zhongli never said anything about this. But then again, perhaps he should anticipate this from the beginning...

Xiao looks over at Albedo, who is now tilting his head, his look as innocent as ever.

“Are you not okay with sharing a room?”

Comment: College AU for Xiaobedo! One thing that I love this is the slow burn and what made me LOVE LOVE LOVE this fic more is how cute Klee is in this fic. Their relationship in this one is very simple, but that simplicity highlight why their chemistry work. Xiao is someone who was just very gentle, who was largely misunderstood by his lonesome nature. Albedo was someone who like peace and quite in his introvert bubble. And how they respect that bubble that each other has actually made their relationship work. I love it when fic highlight this and this one captures it.

5. I Can't See Your Face From the Other Side of the Classroom by MissWeaver  

When Albedo and Xiao unexpectedly start eating lunch together, they begin to find that they have more in common than anyone would have realized. They both struggle in their own ways with blossoming feelings, too many assignments, and annoying classmates as they navigate a relationship for the first time.

Comment: I’ll be honest, I usually hate high school au just because its so cliche. I don’t even watch and drama/anime surrounds high school student anymore LMAOOO (unless it’s very good). So if there’s an high school AU that I actually keep come back and read after a couple of chapters, it means that the cliche that I hate wasn’t there or barely was there at all. The pinning in this fic makes me want to bang their head together sometimes LMAOOO The tag wasn’t kidding when they said both Xiao and Albedo are bad at feelings. Also that’s a lot of heart broken caused by these two idiots XD

6. new world, same me, same bullshit  by  bobamilkteas (Wes)

At the belly of Dragonspine, Albedo lost control to the festering corruption that permeated his senses and watched, from the recesses of his mind, as his devoured body turned his allies into enemies. Before his rampage reached its climax, he is sealed in a crystalized confinement by the last hand of Reindottir, where he then reawakens centuries after, in a rebooted Teyvat.

Comment: Yeah I know it was list in Orange Dust but here me out. This sets out in an entirely different universe. And if you like Polyamory, this one has Zhongli joining the duo and I love it because I also love ZhongXiao with my life. Time Travel is my biggest kink. Especially when I am the person who love it when people explore Archon War era/ Alatus!Xiao. So this one hits double of my kink. Of course it is still on going and I will bully Wes whenever I can to see that new chapter. Albedo is a total fucking badass in this story and I completely agree from using him in Abyss so often. Everyone should write badass Albedo.

7. misplaced heart of mine by  inkburn           

“If you are ill, then you should be resting at home. In Mondstadt.” He emphasized Mondstadt with a pointed look in his direction.

“I assure you I won’t be troublesome, Adeptus Xiao,” Albedo said, “You’ll find I’m a rather low-maintenance traveler.”

“Travel,” Xiao scoffed, “without airstep?”

Albedo looked him up and down. “Are your legs just for decoration?”

(albedo is sent to liyue on mandatory vacation. xiao is his unfortunate bodyguard.)

Comment: Most of the time you will see Albedo and Xiao starting their relationship with one of them taking interest in another. But this one took another approach, they starting off by make them hating each other’s guts LMAOOOO and I live for every second of it. There’s only 1 chapter so far but wow it was SOOO GOOD. I am really really excited for next chapter and is waiting patiently ;w;

8.  Blossom of Grace  by birdpriestess  

One day in Liyue Harbor, Albedo watches a street performance by an enigmatic dancer named Xiao. And he becomes completely obsessed.

Comment: Have you ever look at Xiao fight and thinking that he’s one of the most beautiful deadly thing ever? How it was like he was dancing around the battlefield? How about actual dancer Xiao being so absolutely beautiful and perfect and that slow burn of Albedo falling in love with that beauty with a touch of Modern AU and cute Ganyu as the Wing woman. Yes, Sparrow delivers yet again another beautiful slow burn and while it’s still ongoing it is worth the read.

9. i think we could make this work (could get used to this) by outspaced               

“Xiao? What are you doing out here?”

“I—”

“It’s raining,” Albedo says, as if it isn’t obvious. “You could get struck by lightning.”

“What are you doing out here then?” Xiao does the only thing he knows how to do, he challenges Albedo. “It’s raining.”

Albedo just hums. “If I get struck by lightning, it’s for science.”

Comment: A short one-shot where I read the summary and went “This is it... this is their relationship.” I am sold immediately. Oh god Albedo why are you like this.

10. Ephemeral by criedprinz        

“It’s not for your investigation, is it?” Aether asked mildly.

Albedo traced a finger around the sketchbook, considering the question. “No,” he admitted finally. “I... I just want to see them again.”

He opened the sketchbook to reveal the drawing he’d just finished. Aether nodded, clearly recognizing the sharp golden eyes.

“Xiao,” he said. “You were rescued by an adeptus.”

When a visit to Dragonspine goes horribly wrong, Albedo is rescued by an unknown stranger, wielding powers he's never heard of. Led on a search to find out who it is, he finds himself in the middle of an unforgettable encounter..

Comment: A really really well written one-shot that I love. The yearning oh godddd the yearning from Albedo side is just so so much that I have to put it here. (I think you can see the trend here lmao. I am a sucker for yearning). And the moment they get to meet each other again is just chef kiss. MWHAA

11. Idle Yaksha, Brilliant Yaksha by Pit0fTheEarth

Alatus didn’t have a lot of responsibilities to keep. He spent most of his days dancing across the sky and eating away all nightmares that plagued a person’s sleep.

But one fortunate encounter led to too many unfortunate ones, taking his carefree existence and plunging it in darkness. His wings, stripped from him. His gentle touch, replaced by an unforgiving grip of destruction.

There was a lot of blood on his hands. With each passing moment, it became harder for Alatus to recall the last time someone gently held him.

Comment: This is one of the ongoing fic where I am very very much excited on the take of Naberius. And the way the author portray Xiao when he’s still the innocent Alatus is just *clench fist*. Baby ;w; Baby why do you have to lose all that innocence. Also the fic has long LONG flashback to Xiao past and his relationship with Naberius. We are unwielding more what happened to both of them and why perhaps does this have to do with Albedo.

That’s it for now, might add more later! Thank you <3

[cellsshapedlikestars]

Robot Jon! ☺️

(ok, I've been off tumblr for a few days, but I went on early this morning and had an ask with a bunch of prompts because I said I'd be taking a break from my Bachelor fic - which is true, if not for another 3 chapters yet. I haven't answered that ask because I'll lose it and therefore the prompts, but it reminded me that I still had two prompts left from when I asked for them back in... December? I'm the worst. Anyway, I re-looked at those prompts, saw this one, and then couldn't stop thinking about it. So I'm coming out of my vague tumblr hiatus to write this.)

Thank you, as always, for the prompt!

.

Sansa has never liked amusement parks.

The sun that always burned her, no matter how diligent mom was about reapplying sunscreen; the fried food that always made her sick; the crowds and the noise and having to walk everywhere. But the worst part was the rides – oh, she didn't mind some of them, like the Ferris wheel or the teacups; she could even handle the swing ride. The problem was that the rest of her family wanted to go on the horrible rides – roller coasters, haunted houses, swinging ships; the ones that go fast and drop you from a million feet in the air. And since it was hard enough wrangling the amount of children in their group to begin with, it was impossiblefor one adult to split off with Sansa, who alone wanted to ride the gentler ones.

And so, it's sort of ironic that she works at an amusement park now.

She may not have a taste for most of the rides in the park, but she is good at designing them – not the actual rides, but the aesthetics of them. It's her (and her team's) job to come in after the engineers and the builders and take a bare-bones ride and turn it into an experience. She loves her job – she loves watching children exit one of her rides with glowing faces and excitement in their eyes.

Today, she also gets to do one of her favorite aspects of the job, which is costume design. The animatronic models have already been installed, and when she enters the new Dance of Dragons ride, she can already see the scene taking shape in her mind. The concept art has already been drawn up, it's already being advertised – a medieval world that everyone knows is meant to capitalize on the stunning success of the Aemon the Dragonknight series (which her employer does not own the rights to, much to their dismay). But concept art is one thing – reality is another, and it's not until the ride is complete that she can start to truly see it come together in her mind.

“Oh good, you're here,” Margaery Tyrell sighs dramatically as she comes to meet Sansa's team. Margaery is in charge of Marketing and PR for this ride and Sansa knows it's a big responsibility, so she's been even more high maintenance than usual. Margaery walks her through the ride that Sansa has seen so many times in drawings.

“This is our Aemon,” Margaery slaps a hand against the shoulder of one of the animatronic models. “Although we can't call him Aemon. Copyright and all that.”

Sansa looks at the robot and she's struck for a moment how lifelike he is. A lot of the animatronics aren't this detailed, though she guesses this one is because of how close to the ride it is.

“He's handsome, right?” Margaery flashes her a grin and there's something in her eyes that Sansa can't quite place. (Well, she can, it's mischief, Sansa just can't tell why it's there.)

“I guess, in the way that cartoons can be handsome,” Sansa laughs and takes another look at the model – the somber grey eyes, dark curly hair, and an equally dark beard. “You even gave him abs,” she points down at the robot's chest which does, indeed, have a very detailed set of abs. “Am I supposed to leave him shirtless?”

“Oh, no, obviously we want realism, like we talked about,” Margaery waves her hand dismissively. “We just couldn't help ourselves when we put in the order.” Sansa shoots her a confused look, which only gets a delighted laugh out of Margaery. “I'm guessing you don't recognize him?”

“Recognize who?”

Margaery gestures at the animatronic. “Jon!” At Sansa's blank stare, Margaery rolls her eyes. “Jon Snow?”

The name sounds familiar and it takes her a second to place it. “The engineer?”

“Duh! Seven hells, don't tell me you've never actually seen him?”

Sansa shakes her head – she usually comes in well after the engineers have done their part.

“Mormont let him take the lead on this project and he's so... ugh,” Margaery makes a noise that's half frustration, half delight. “So serious all the time. But somehow likable? It's infuriating, really. And no one should be that attractive for a nerd.”

“So... does he know you made him into a robot?”

“He does not,” Margaery grins. “We're all just dying for him to come in for an inspection and see it. In fact,” she pulls out her phone and checks the time, “if you wait around for a bit, you'll get to see it happen.”

Sansa shakes her head and they continue on through the set, Sansa writing down notes in her trusty notebook that she always carries with her. Lists of costumes, set pieces. She'll need to bring in Asha later to discuss the lighting options (right now the dark ride is lit with spotlights, giving the whole place a surreal atmosphere).

Margaery eventually leaves her to it and Sansa loses herself in going over the set inch by inch with Gilly and Mya following along with her. She's so lost in thought that Mya has to shake her arm to bring her back to reality, and they turn to see a group of what has to be engineers standing in the main Great Hall set.

“Oh come on, Jon,” Margaery is giggling as a man who must be Jon stands, staring at the animatronic. He's scowling at it, hands tight around the pile of binders in his arms that are... well, ok, Sansa can understand now why Margaery made the robot so well muscled.

Sansa edges closer to the scene, and she can see that his fellow engineers are laughing – one of them is red-faced from trying to hold it in while another is actively wiping tears from his eyes.

“It's already made,” Margaery says in response to whatever Jon had grumbled to her. “Replacing it would be an irresponsible waste of funds. Oh! And here's the team that will be styling you... I mean, styling not-Aemon because that's copyright infringement.”

Jon looks up and the scowl drops from his face.

“This is Sansa, Mya and Gilly are over there.”

“Hi,” Sansa greets and Jon shifts his binders into one arm and then holds out his hand for her to shake (she can feel her face heating up and she hopes the dark hides it). “I promise to try and do you justice.” She regrets her words immediately, especially when she sees a slow grin spread over Margaery's face. “Though it doesn't totally look like you,” she continues on to try and backtrack. “It... doesn't have glasses?”

She wants to sink into the floor in embarrassment, but the gods are not that kind. At least she doesn't spout out how much she likes his glasses. Maybe Margaery is right – no one who clearly cares so little about their appearance should be this attractive. His beard needs a trim, his outfit is painfully unstylish, his hair is pulled back into a bun. All of it should add up to something she hates, but she just... doesn't.

(And honestly, Margaery's description of nerd isn't so far off the mark, but Sansa finds this isn't a detriment – in fact, she might be more attracted to him because of the glasses and the multitude of thick binders organized with labels and tabs that he's got tucked under his arm.)

“I'd also hope real Jon isn't built like a Ken doll,” one of the other engineers barks out a laugh and points at the animatronic, which, yes, does not have any reproductive anatomy.

“Gods,” she hears Jon whisper, and the hand that he had used to shake hers comes up and covers his eyes. “This is a nightmare.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Margaery sighs and pats him on the shoulder. “Now, why don't you take Sansa around and make sure she's really taken care of, hmm?” At the words, Sansa feels her face heat even further and Jon drops his hand from his eyes and glares at Margaery. “I just mean,” Margaery grins, not even trying to pretend the innuendo wasn't on purpose, “it might help the design if she has a good understanding of the mechanics. I know there's some new things on this ride we haven't had before, you could show her.”

Jon opens his mouth, but doesn't get a chance to speak, because Margaery barrels on. “Sam, Grenn, you can chat with Gilly and Mya while that's happening. And I... well, I'll just be over here, minding my own business.”

With that, Margaery walks away and the other two engineers – Sam and Grenn, she guesses – head over to where the rest of her team stands, watching from afar.

“You don't have to,” Sansa starts, but Jon quickly turns from glaring at Margaery's back to her and his face settles into something less... scowly.

“I don't mind,” he says quickly and maybe it's the low lighting in here, but she thinks the tips of his ears are red.

“Perfect,” she gives him her best smile, which seems to throw him even more off balance and... and she thinks she could get used to throwing Jon Snow off balance.

[secret-engima]

....I lied. If you’re still doing the title thing - if I go down gonna burn with the sun

I thought there was a few more title asks still lurking in here for me to answer. *cracks knuckles* RAMBLE TIME.

-Star Wars AU. Star Wars FFXV sorta-x-over AU where the Astrals decide that Aera and Ardyn deserve a chance at happiness, just not on Eos, and therefore go YEET. The Force, finding these two wayward and powerful souls is like- Sure okay and boom. Ardyn and Aera are reborn in a galaxy far, far away.

-Purely not coincidentally, far away, on different worlds and in different star systems, one Satine Kryze and one Obi-Wan Kenobi take their first breaths.

-Yes I’m serious.

-This would be- SUCH a chaotic fixit AU, both because Aera loves peace but she is NO pacifist and not about to let an entire Culture DIE just because some so called New Mandalorians cannot see the dangers of burying their own past. Two because- well.

-Ardyn has already BEEN a Chosen One and an Accursed, a Hero and a Villain. He has walked the path to salvation and damnation both and seen the worst sides of himself and humanity, and for all they look different, every species in the galaxy isn’t far different from humanity in those regards.

-Obi-Wan Kenobi grows up in the Jedi Temple and he is a Troublesome Child. Too quiet and too reckless by turns, a smile that could melt butter and a tongue that can strip flesh from the backs of whatever bully goes after him this time. The Jedi ... worry. He is Dark, they whisper, was born with shreds of Darkness in his soul. He is manipulative, they worry, he has a temper, they gossip.

-Ardyn hears them all and inside a part of him screams. Because of course he is Dark, they did not have their souls swallowed by a plague for others’ sake, were not consumed with madness until dying (being freed) at the hands of a nephew two thousand years removed. As for manipulation ... he doesn’t mean to. It’s just ... he’s so much OLDER than the other children mentally, older even than any Jedi there (even YODA), he can’t help it that he thinks rings around people sometimes, or that he is so in tune with the Force (with a galaxy-spanning magic that burns beneath his skin like a hundred newborn suns that he keeps buried so the Jedi will not sense it so clearly, will not know how strong and old he really is inside) that he can practically read minds and knows what to say to get the best outcome. He has a temper. Who doesn’t? You try being reborn after a lifetime of AGONY and see how patient you are with petty morons and small minded bullies.

-He says none of those things, and when his time grows near to be sent away without a Master, he does not fight it.

-He looks at the shadow of Qui Gon Jinn in the doorway and something in the Force ... sings. Sad and soft. It speaks of heartache and betrayal and a fear of being hurt again. Ardyn can almost FEEL the two paths branching away under his feet, one with Qui Gon in it, and one without, and he does not know which one will bring him less pain.

-Ardyn does not try to impress anyone in the sparring ring, but after he is done, he slips away. He finds Jinn in the garden, trying to meditate, and settles down across from him without invitation.

-Qui Gon opens his eyes in annoyance. He knows that the Council wants him to take a Padawan, and that this one is almost at the age of being moved to the Corps. He expects the boy to beg to become a Padawan, or to try to impress him somehow.

-Instead the boy just smiles, thin and sharp and knowing in a way that makes Qui Gon feel ... exposed. Like every thought and wound in his heart is on display for this child, “The Council wants you to take a Padawan. That’s why they keep making you watch us.” It’s a statement, not a question.

-Qui Gon raises an eyebrow, “And you think I should take you?”

-The boy shrugs, but his blue eyes are still sharp as knives behind his friendly mien and Qui Gon doesn’t like the feeling crawling up his spine, “That’s your choice to make and yours alone. There’s nothing I can say to change your mind one way or the other.”

-“Then why are you here?” He asks suspiciously.

-“Because you’re lonely, and it makes the Force feel sad.” The answer is so blunt, so sure of itself. Qui Gon feels his stomach twist, and old anger makes him snappish without meaning to be (he’s heard of this boy as well, he’s heard that he’s got a manipulative streak and a tendency to twist his Force empathy to his own ends, he’s heard many things).

-(Qui Gon forgets that it is not a good idea, to base judgement on rumors) “I am not, and if I was, I would not need your company to ease it.”

-Obi-Wan Kenobi, Initiate of the Jedi Temple Ardyn Lucis Caelum, Sage and Healer King and Accursed, tilts his head thoughtfully, then nods and stands up, “Then I will take my leave. Take care of yourself, Master Jinn.”

-Initiate Kenobi Ardyn the Accursed and Healer King walks away, and a breath later the Living Force twists, like the snapping of cables, and Qui Gon gets the fleeting, distinct impression that he has failed some kind of very important test.

-Ardyn is assigned to the AgraCorps. A life as a farmer for others awaits him.

-The day before he’s to be shipped off, he walks out one of the Temple’s side-entrances and into the underbelly of Coruscant with only the clothes on his back. He doesn’t look back even once. It takes until the next day for anyone (for his friends, if he can call them friends when they are so much YOUNGER and painfully more innocent than him) to miss him. It takes another day for the Jedi to realize Obi-Wan Kenobi is well and truly missing.

-Deep in Coruscant’s seedy side, at the dockyards manned by those who are less than concerned with legality, a boy in ratty (stolen) clothes asks to be taken aboard as a maintenance worker. He calls himself Ardyn Izunia, and there are no Force Sensitives close enough to feel the sunlike fire burning in his blood as he smiles.

-Skip forward several years and Satine Kryze (Aera) is on the run from Death Watch, civil war is on the horizon and her father asks for Jedi protection to keep her safe.

-The bounty hunter who calls himself Adagium finds her first.

-A sword that glitters like blood and cuts through metal like a lightsaber (that hums-hums-hums with magic none but a Force sensitive can see blazing like bloody fire down the ancient blade) finishes off the Death Watch assassin that Satine hadn’t had the chance to shoot yet, and under his hood, Adagium smiles. Satine stills, head tilted as if listening, then she collapses into the teenage bounty hunter’s arms in joyous tears. Adagium- Ardyn- holds her close and cries with her.

- “I finally found you, My Aera,” he breathes and for a moment he lets his magic loose and it burns like the sun through the Force, lancing through the growing shadows in the Force like they’re fragile paper and somewhere far away Sidious feels Doom™ crawl violently up his spine.

-Aka that Fixit AU where Aera is a Mand’alor that DOES want peace for her people but NOT at the cost of burning history to the ground (or being defenseless, she has died to the sword once already she will not go quietly into the night a second time, not if she has to paint the walls in blood to protect her life and the lives of her people), the Jedi are Confused™, and Ardyn is incredibly content to be Aera’s former bounty hunter trophy husband with a tendency to adopt strays (read: Anakin and Shmi who he frees as well as Anakin kthanks, and quite possibly Savage and Feral too tho no one is quite sure how) until the Clone Wars start and Ardyn takes one (1) look at the war and goes: ah. I know this plan. This is a stupid plan. And all of Sidious’s plans go fwoosh.

-Because I’m sorry but there is no way you can convince me that Ardyn wouldn’t EAT SIDIOUS ALIVE in any kind of fight, mental, physical, Force, or tactical. This man is 2k years old. It took Sidious until he was an old sack of bones to get his Empire and that was with GENERATIONS of Sith serving as his foundation, and then he got yote down a reactor shaft by his minion 19-25 years later. Ardyn was able to manipulate an entire Empire into engineering its destruction and fulfill ALL HIS REVENGE GOALS (giving Bahamut a headache, driving the world to darkness and ruin, and ending the line of Lucis Caelum INCLUDING HIMSELF) in like- 30-40 years. While MENTALLY AND PHYSICALLY ILL thanks to the Scourge. Fully healthy and in control of himself and with people (Aera) to protect? Sidious would just be fresh meat.

-Also Ardyn adopts a bunch of the clones, possibly all the clones, on the excuse that since they were raised by Mandalorian trainers they count as Mandalorians and as genetic sons of Jango Fett that makes the Mandalorian CITIZENS by BIRTHRIGHT and the Republic can only watch in confusion as their army gets mass adopted by the Mand’alor’s trophy husband who also exposed their new Chancellor as a Sith. Bail Organa, the new Chancellor, may or may not be sweating quietly at the thought of accidentally gaining the ire of the so called Trophy Husband because he’s smarter than most and knows that Ardyn is Very Very Dangerous.

-Also also Qui Gon doesn’t die somehow because I do really like him and I think he’s a good Jedi, just not a good fit for Ardyn as a master.

[scribbles97]

If You Don’t Try...

... You’ll Never Know.

Just some fluff between Jeff and Virgil. Thank you once again @gumnut-logic for the kick start I needed with this one and for your endless support <3

Jeff wasn’t sure what he had expected to come back to. He knew the boys had well and truly committed themselves to the cause of International Rescue, but he had never anticipated just how that would impact on the other aspects of their lives. 

It bothered him that Gordon seemed to be the only one of the five that seemed to have some form of established relationship. 

Not that that was a problem, but it was Gordon, the son he had always expected to be least likely to settle down and the most happy to just play the field. 

He could, however, guess at another relationship in the making. He just wasn’t sure if Virgil himself had realised it yet. 

Oh yes, he’d seen it in those brief moments back on the Island. The clear fear in his son’s brown eyes as they had learned of what the so-called Chaos Crew had done to Brains’ lab, followed by a clear angry dip of his brow. Alone it might not have been so much of a clue, Jeff could have easily put it down as a normal reaction to terrorists invading one's home. 

Except, then she had approached him, and Jeff knew his sight was off but he still didn’t miss the way her hand had reached out to brush his and the way the fear and anger had just evaporated from his son’s features. 

There had of course been other little actions that perhaps he hadn’t been meant to see, the briefest of glances across a room, the automatic shift of one when the other entered, and the telling smiles that neither seemed able to help. 

As far as he was concerned, it was a textbook romance. 

Yet, it seemed as if nobody else were aware of it. 

Nobody ever spoke of the couple together, none of them commented on how it had come about, there wasn’t even a jibe from Gordon. 

“Hey,” Virgil had greeted as he slipped into the hospital room, “Sorry I’m late, the parts for Two weren’t ready when I got to the depo so I had to wait for a while.” 

Jeff waved him off, shifting to sit up more in the bed, muscles protesting against the pull of gravity. 

“Nothing major needing fixing I hope?” 

“No,” Virgil shook his head, pulling the armchair around to face him before taking a seat, “Just some components for the thrusters that we anticipated would need replacing, they’ve already been fitted, these are just for spares.”

It didn’t surprise him in the slightest that the boys had kept on top of maintenance and improvements for their respective ships. To each of them their ships were like an extra limb, something they all knew by heart inside and out. He’d been there once, had known every intimate detail of them all, but that would no doubt be something else he would have to relearn. 

“Good,” He nodded quietly in approval, “And everyone alright at home?”

“Uh huh.” Virgil nodded, distracted briefly by his phone, smiling softly at whatever was on the screen. 

Jeff saw his moment, “Is that Tanusha checking in?”

Deer in headlights sprang to mind as Virgil looked up, the brown of his eyes wide as his mouth gaped slightly, clearly trying to find some rebuttal or excuse. 

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the look, everything he had been suspicious about finally confirmed. 

“You’re dating?” 

Shoving his phone back in his pocket, Virgil sighed. Leaning back in the seat, he shrugged, the fear fading into something much more childlike and unsure. 

“Not yet.” He admitted quietly with a small shrug, “I mean, we haven’t really had chance to talk about it with everything going on.” 

It was understandable, Jeff nodded, it wasn’t every day that a family member came back from the dead. That alone was enough for anyone to have to take in without the added complication of falling in love. 

“I do love her,” Virgil continued, voice soft, almost as if he were afraid of being heard, “And I think she loves me. But we’re--”

He didn’t need to hear the end of the sentence to know what was coming. 

“You grew up together.” He cut in before his son could finish. 

The way his son’s face twisted suggested he’d thought about that fact long and hard. 

“So you don’t think it’s weird?” Virgil asked, “Because, come on Dad, she basically is like a sister.”

There was something in his tone, in the way that his smile seemed tight and didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Are you expecting me to be mad or something?” He guessed. 

An unsure shrug as the man shrunk in on himself. 

“Virgil,” He sighed, wishing everything wasn’t so heavy, that it was easier to get up and hug his son, “I’m not here to tell you who you can and can’t fall in love with. Trust an old man when he tells you, that’s not even something you can control.”

“It’s weird though, isn’t it?” Virgil persisted, shifting forward in his seat, shoulders still hunched protectively around himself, “Me and her?”

It was years of bringing up five boys that clued him in to the knowledge that his worry lay in more than just his father’s thoughts on the matter. 

“Who said something?”

The scoff was soft as he looked down, but it was definitely there, answering the question before Virgil even had to speak. 

“He didn’t know at the time,” He murmured, playing with a threat on the end of his shirt cuff, “Gordon was saying it to Alan after Kay had knocked him back one time.”

Filing the information away for later, and making a mental note to check in on Alan, Jeff tilted his head slightly. 

“So does Gordon still think it’s weird?”

Something about the question drew a smile to Virgil’s face, his eyes clearly distant with thought as he slowly shook his head.

“No, he found out about us and took it all back. Though I’m not sure if he’s just scared of what Kay would do to him if he did say something.” 

Leaning back again, Jeff chuckled, “I’d definitely make sure to use that to your advantage in the future.”

He couldn’t help but notice the hint of smugness in Virgil’s smile as he looked up, the dangerous glint in his eye comparable to Gordon’s as he nodded a confirmation. 

“But anyway,” He waved his hand at him, not allowing the actual matter to be distracted from, “If your brothers are okay with it, why are you still bothered by it?”

There was a good guess in the front of his mind, but he needed the confirmation. 

It was no good trying to fix something based on assumptions. 

“Because,” Virgil sighed, flopping back in the seat again, “If that was Gordon’s first thought about it, then who else is going to think the same? It’s not like we’re a normal family living a normal life. Sooner or later the press will get wind of this and will probably have a field day.” 

Being in the public eye and being a people pleaser had always been a worry for Jeff when it came to some of his son’s. Virgil himself was a quiet person, much preferring to stay out of the public eye unlike some of his bolder brothers. He was also a peace keeper, someone that wanted to make everybody happy. 

It hadn’t been until those long years in the Oort cloud that Jeff had started to question himself and his own selfishness. He should have known his son well enough, should have recognised that by simply asking Virgil to be a part of International Rescue he had trapped his son into the role. There were few times when his son had done anything other than what he had asked of him. 

That wasn’t the moment for such self-flagellation though, apologies for that could wait. 

“Do you think that would affect your relationship with Tanusha?”

He visibly stumbled, blinking wide eyed up at him as his brain caught up to the question. 

“She knows that we live in the public eye.”

Shaking his head, Jeff smiled softly, “That’s not what I asked, son.” 

He could see the thoughts processing, the question of why anyone other than the two in the relationship should have a say in it, of why such comments and judgement from small minded people should change how two people in love felt about each other, of why the pair of them couldn’t make it work regardless. 

He saw the moment that Virgil came up blank. 

“We’d still love each other.” 

Smiling, Jeff nodded, “Exactly. Nobody else gets a say in that son, not Gordon, not me, and most certainly not the small minded gnats that make up the world news.”

He wished he was in reaching distance, that he could reach out and squeeze his shoulder, give him a hug or something. 

“If you both make each other happy, that’s the most important thing.”

Even with eyes still adjusting to being back on earth, he could see the tears welling as Virgil stood. Straightening as best he could, he held an arm out, signalling for his son to cross the small gap. 

“Thanks Dad.” He murmured as he rested his forehead against Jeff’s shoulder, “I really needed to hear that.” 

Smiling to himself, he held on as tight as he could, “I’ve got your back kid, focus on yourself for a while, everyone else can come second for a change.”

He might have been gone for a while, and many, many things may have changed, but he was fairly sure that love still worked the same as it always had.

[hopevalley]

Season 8, Episode 1: Open Season

Work was busier than expected on Monday, but the deep dive into the first episode of S8 begins now!

Scene 1: Narration, Elizabeth and Nathan, Lucas

The awkwardness between Elizabeth and Nathan was...palpable at first lol.The best part about the non-narrated part of the scene is twofold: Nathan interacting with Jack is a well-needed and very nice touch, and of course it’s always nice to see that Nathan is patient concerning Elizabeth’s situation and reassures her that she can let him know when she’s ready to go to dinner with him.

My problem with the whole thing is that...if she hasn’t spoken up about wanting that dinner date yet, and she’s not saying yes she’d like to get dinner with you now, it’s like...any sane person would assume at this point in the story that Elizabeth isn’t interested in Nathan. Worse, Nathan isn’t the kind of man who wouldn’t take a hint. I’m pretty sure this is why the opening scene felt just a little bit off. I think they ought to have let Elizabeth be a little more enthusiastic about the idea while still failing to commit to it. 

To be fair to the writers, I can’t imagine it was easy for them to figure out how to open this season after such a long time gap. They let a whole winter elapse between last season and this one. How do you explain literally no major development with the love triangle in that amount of time? Especially after the way the last season ended?

Random consideration: the camera focuses on Elizabeth’s face a lot and makes her wedding ring clearly visible.

Boom, the flashback with Lucas. I think having him leave out of jealousy was a better idea than having his mother fall ill (we’ve certainly seen that enough at this point), and maybe we should also consider the fact that while Lucas was gone, Nathan didn’t really jump on the opportunity to woo Elizabeth himself.

I wonder if we’ll get an explanation for that or not. What makes Lucas so sure that after 4+ months, Elizabeth hasn’t started courting Nathan? Maybe he kept in touch with someone in town? Or he just knows Elizabeth well enough to know she wouldn’t feel quite ready to commit in that time frame anyway?

I did really like Lucas’s opening scene with Elizabeth. Honestly, he was quite likable, here: admitting he was wrong, admitting his shortcomings, apologizing. All good things. “I’m ashamed I let my jealousy get the best of me... The worst of me.” That’s such a good line.

It didn’t feel equal in enthusiasm to the Nathan scene, but I’ll have more thoughts on that later. I do believe it was on purpose.

--

Scene 2: Clara and Jesse’s Fight, The Café

I like the concept of some marital discord for Clara and Jesse. Marriage is easier said than done and like any serious relationship, it’s a lot of consistent maintenance. It starts out pretty well, with Jesse sleeping in the other bedroom. At this point I fully expected to find out Clara kicks in her sleep or she snores a lot or something that’s funny to hear about but really difficult to actually deal with in real life. Color me disappointed later, but I’ll get to it.

--

Scene 3: The Mercantile, Ned, Florence, Carson

This just set up things with Faith’s situation so there’s not much to say, but as always I do love Florence. I hope she gets some good scenes this season. And I love Ned so I hope the same for him.

Henry coming in to mail a letter was interesting, though. I’m not sure it’ll mean anything in particular later, but...it’s possible.  Then again, maybe he’s just here to set our expectations regarding Faith’s return (of course it’s a long trip from Chicago) or Carson’s worry (a bit unreasonable unless he expected to hear from her at a specific stop).

--

Scene 4: Nathan, Dylan

Dylan is such an incredible scumbag. The spurs were a nice touch. He says things almost fondly (“She’s growing up... My little girl.”) and then wants nothing to actually do with Allie. 

The guy’s actually a pretty good actor. The way he segues into being glad for Allie’s sake that Nathan wasn’t the one killed. If the next words out of his mouth weren’t a demand for go-away money you’d almost feel those words were genuine!

--

Scene 5: Lee and Rosemary’s Return + Faith’s Return + Dylan Part Two

Lots of energy in this scene, both good and bad. I always appreciate what Lee and Rosemary bring to the show. I genuinely just don’t care that much about Faith. I’m ready to ship her with Cowboy Brett Brewer. He gets a name, which makes me wonder if he’s gonna show up again. :3

Lol at Carson’s jelly face:

I MEAN...

Not a fan of Faith’s outfit...but to be fair we’ve never really seen Faith outside of uniform. That just doesn’t strike me as something she would wear to travel in...?

Dylan approaching Jack and Jack speaking to him was so hilarious to me. “A puppy!” It’s extra funny after he looked afraid of Rosemary. Nathan intervening was undoubtedly for the best, but I can’t imagine why he would have approached Elizabeth or Jack. He doesn’t know who they are, or their connection to Nathan. Maybe too convenient. Might have been better to have him approach someone else entirely--like Opal.

--

Scene 6: Nathan and Allie

It’s great Nathan’s officializing the adoption but he had literal years to do this and only chooses now, when there’s a threat? Legally Dylan doesn’t have a leg to stand on even in that day and age (he did the abandoning in the first place + Nathan is a lawman)... It kind of ruined the cute moment for me, and I think it will come back in a bad way later.

I don’t mind Nathan’s inability to confide in Elizabeth in this situation. At this point, she doesn’t need to know, and the situation is just weird enough that he probably doesn’t think he needs to dump his own problems on her.

--

Scene 7: Carson and Faith

I’m the jerk who just chanted “BREAK UP BREAK UP BREAK UP” during this scene in my head. I just...don’t care about Faith and Carson.

--

Scene 8: Bill and The Gals

I hate that they keep retconning Bill’s ability to cook well with every passing season. In season 2 and 3 he was more than satisfactory. In S4 he made dinner for Dottie and it was really nice. Now he’s godawful and doesn’t taste his own shit before letting other people try it? Come on.

This is the kind of stuff the writing team needs to cut out of the story. It’s not funny. 

Worse, outspoken Fiona lying to Bill? I just don’t see it. At least Molly told him the truth...but I still am just SO tired of seeing this shit. It makes me think new writers only watched the last couple of seasons instead of all of them.

Also, if Bill is literally running the cafe most of the time, if he was bad at cooking, then...the place would have shut down ages ago. What they should lean into if they wanna do a cooking joke is that Bill isn’t good at creating recipes from scratch. Maybe he doesn’t have a strong sense of taste (my husband has this issue so it’s the first thing that comes to mind) so he’s likely to over-do things like spice or sugar or salt on accident. There’s also a lot of room for jokes about his “taste” in things that can come of it (women, clothes, et cetera).

--

Scene 9: Lee’s Pants

Good scene, 10/10, wouldn’t change a thing. I hope this pants thing becomes a running gag. This is the good kind of humor I want in my life. And I like that Jesse wants to emulate Lee. It’s wholesome. 

--

Scene 10: Rosemary and Clara

The ribbon as a tissue was funny, but it was just SLIGHTLY too over the top for me.

--

Scene 11: Faith and Carson Again...............

“Were you jealous of that cowboy?” I think he should be. The cowboy is better. I don’t give a damn about these characters. And I genuinely hate that the strumming is Carson’s Thing Now. At the very least we should get some Carson and Bill doing a duet together which would be cool.

It just felt like it was shilling Paul and had nothing to do with the characters.

--

Scene 12: Mmm Money

This is arguably the most interesting scene in the episode. Lucas nodded at Nathan. Nathan went to Lucas for money. Lucas didn’t need to get the scoop to find out why Nathan needed it to loan it to him. Elizabeth is officially the least interesting part of the love triangle.

They treat her like she’s such a prize to be won, but I’m starting to worry that she’s become the new Lorigail on the show.

Anyway this scene had some gay vibes and I liked them.

--

Scene 13: Rosemary and Elizabeth Catch Up

YES. GOOD SCENE. It starts off fun and it gets serious, and the transition feels really natural. “Did he have reason to be [jealous]?” I’m genuinely glad this is in the episode. It needed to be. I hope Rosemary continues to ask the hard questions.

Elizabeth needs to face either dating one of them, or dating neither of them so that everybody can get on with their lives. If you’re not that enthusiastic about either of them I’d say...maybe don’t date either of them idk.

--

Scene 14: Nathan and Bill Talk

"If he sees you with me, then...” The problem with this scene is uh...twofold, let’s say.

Issue 1: ThEN HE WILL WHAT, NATHAN? WHAT HAS HE EVER DONE BEFORE THAT WAS SO BAD if he’s not a hard criminal? Maybe an example would be useful here...?

Issue 2: The old Bill Avery would have heard “if he SEES YOU with ME” and mentally been like, “all right so it’s only bad if he SEES ME” and spied on Nathan.

Nathan wanting Bill to stay behind in case Dylan doubles back isn’t a terrible idea, but it almost comes across more like...the writers just want Nathan alone.

--

Scene 15: Oil

I like the discussion and that Hickam gets to do something. I feel like Henry is low-key advising against shooting the well, and that Lucas and Hickam will end up doing it and causing an issue. It’s just setting up for the future and it’s nice to see those kinds of scenes in the series again!

--

Scene 16: Jesse and Lee

I’d like this scene more if I felt it gave us ANY insight into the problem Jesse and Clara are having. It mostly comes across like Jesse gets home and does nothing at all until bedtime and Clara is lonely. Could have been a better scene. It’s mostly just repetitive right now.

--

Scene 17: Nathan Cancels the Date

“Tomorrow’s Saturday.” Nathan’s like uhhhhh. This actually works really well to do what it’s supposed to do. By that I mean, he seems “off” so Elizabeth realizes he’s a bit stressed and leaving town = mountie business = dangerous.

I kind of wish Rosemary and Elizabeth would talk more about this, but maybe that’s coming in an episode soon...?

--

Scene 18: The Barbershop

Just a cute nice scene that shows a good friendship between Fiona, Clara, and Faith. I like this stuff. Keep it coming, Hallmark!

--

(Skipping Scene 19 because it’s just Nathan riding around...)

--

Scene 20: Lee and Rosemary Scheme

I really enjoyed this little bit where they decide to buy something for Clara and Jesse and we don’t get to see what it is. Super wholesome and very fun!

--

Scene 21: Nathan gets Ambushed

This scene was absolutely wild. Probably one of the best scenes like this that they’ve ever done. Dylan taking Nathan’s hat, “Take care of my little girl” after he takes the money and Nathan’s gun. It was super good.

Also, not too fake that Nathan was on the ground that long. If you got roped off of your horse you’d have the wind knocked out of you super hard lmao.

--

Scene 22: Bill & The Girls

Clara and Fiona are so cute. Bill playing the “Dad” figure to them both is really nice and it’s good for him. “I’m a lawman. I get to sneak.” What a Bill response. 

--

(Skipping Scene 23 since it’s just Nathan finding his horse.)

--

Scene 24: Lucas visits with Elizabeth

Lucas and Elizabeth are flirting via a nursery rhyme. I...don’t like that LOL. But Lucas’s “Helen Bouchard taught me to read and after that I was on my own.” She really sounds unloving. This was a pretty decent scene, though.

Also, Grand Isle Louisiana had a major hurricane in 1909 and 1915.

They also seem to have been hit by more mild hurricanes in 1916 and 1917, but the 1915 one was a Cat4, so...the most notable.

--

Scene 25: Rosemary and Lee in the Dress Shop

This tries to solve the issue of Clara and Jesse’s marital problems, but it doesn’t actually do that. “Let Jesse read when he gets home.” “I’ll talk to Jesse.” Meh.

--

Scene 26: Barbershop

“Why do this when you’re so good with women’s hair?” I fully expected Fiona to say, “That’s where all the hot gossip is, of course.” I do like  her gumption, though!

--

Scene 27: Nathan Finds Dylan

“I had to let you ambush me, so I had grounds to put you away.” COLD BUT EFFECTIVE. I appreciate this.

Imagine getting to be this smug. I wish it were me.

Anyway, long-term thoughts on this are mostly that...there is just no reasonable way Dylan’s story is over yet. It’s too juicy of a storyline to let go this easily. Allie is going to find out what Nathan did and she’s going to struggle to come to terms with it, especially after her grandfather really did try to turn his life around. Why couldn’t it be the same for her father? Why couldn’t she get lucky like that?

I hope it feels satisfying, whatever they choose to do. Otherwise this was just wrapped up too neatly/too quickly.

--

Scene 28: Nathan Returns

Very good scene. Nathan’s in a good mood and he does my favorite trope of all time when one person in the relationship has a child: “Why don’t we all go?” You already all know each other, so why not? It’s wholesome and good, and it shows he doesn’t care how he gets to spend time with Elizabeth, as long as he does.

Also, it takes a lot of the pressure off of her for the duration of the date and at its conclusion. This was a cute and good scene, one of the better they’ve had, I think.

--

Scene 29: Jesse and Lee Talk

This was a nice attempt at a talk, but it really comes off like Jesse has stopped loving Clara for no reason. That his romantic interest in her is what is causing the failure in their relationship.

The problem is: WE HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IS CAUSING IT. NOBODY EVER SAID. 

I agree that love isn’t “just” a feeling or “just” an emotion. It’s ALSO a choice. Marriage is a commitment you choose to continue every day. That is all good.

“Choose love. Then you feel it.” is probably some of the worst dialogue they’ve put in the show, though. Yuck. It left a bad taste in my mouth. It feels like it’s shaming people who legitimately fall out of love or who are in bad relationships. “If only you chose to work harder.”

I don’t think that was their intention at all, but it really soured the scene. I would have MUCH rather have had Lee get Jesse to talk about what’s wrong and then offer him pointers on how he could do better. Maybe he’s stressed out and losing himself in books, or he wishes Clara would sit and read with him because that’s something he always wanted. Or maybe Clara would be down for reading time if he read to her while she did her sewing.

There’s so much they could have done here to really send this home, but it didn’t work very well. At the very least Lee could have said, instead of ‘choose love’: CHOOSE COMMUNICATION. Make sure she knows you still feel that way about her.

The biggest thing is like, Lee could also be very encouraging in saying like, the honeymoon phase doesn’t last forever but just because things settle down doesn’t mean the love is less.

THERE IS SO MUCH GOOD STUFF THEY COULD HAVE WRITTEN FOR THIS but they chose “Choose love. Then you feel it.” WTF. That’s awful advice.

--

Scene 30: Jesse and Clara

Him bringing her flowers was a nice touch, and her getting him the book was also nice. The tandem bike was SO unexpected to me and I loved it. It’s just goofy enough that it works. The best part is that they know it’s not going to fix anything, but it’s still a fun and nice thing to do, and that’s wonderful for Rosemary and Lee. They both like to make the people they care about happy.

--

Scene 31: Mama Bouchard

MILF ALERT.

Elizabeth is just so shook at all of this she doesn’t say a damn thing for so long it made my palms feel sweaty.

“Someone ought to take an interest in your writing, don’t you think?” I rewatched the episode to understand the tone, and it’s a little hoity-toity/uppity, but she actually doesn’t sound condescending. It’s good for an editor to meet the author, after all, and meet to talk about their writing/book. This has always been custom, even in the early 1900s. Authors didn’t usually get their work published by an editor they’d never met (though of course, you will find some exceptions). 

From the little we saw, Helen seems fine. The preview for the next episode tells us she’s UH, AN EDITOR DOING HER JOB, so I’m not looking forward to the editor being the bad guy, but I guess I’ll have to deal with that when it arrives. (To be clear, Elizabeth has never proved to the audience that she’s a Good Writer, let alone a Great Writer. She’s also not experienced which means her work probably NEEDS SOME WORK.)

Anyway, Elizabeth is immediately rude as HELL. Nobody can make an excuse for this. Helen isn’t THAT big of a deal. There are other publishers. Your father is filthy rich. If she changes her mind about your book you can pub to someone via your father if you have to. Like...Helen wouldn’t have taken you on if she didn’t see any potential in you. 

Even if it was a big deal, Elizabeth has NEVER been a flake. EVER. 

This is a classic case of a writer forcing the character to go out of character in order to bend to what the plot dictates. 

If I were Nathan, I’d drop Elizabeth like a brick.

How to fix this scene? I’ll honestly have to think about that for a while. This was the first hint of truly bad writing this season. The bit with Lee and “choose love” was careless writing, but this scene with Nathan is just Bad.

The thing is, I KNOW WHAT THEY ARE DOING. I know they put this in there so that it looks like she’ll choose Lucas because she never even goes out with Nathan, and then BOOM. I know it’s meant to be this big thing about how she’s scared to feel anything for Nathan because Lucas is the safer option and also a good man (so why would she fall for the more frightening option?).

But this was not the right way to do this type of scene. I hope to God in the next episode someone says something about it. Allie could tell her it was rude and it hurt Nathan’s feelings/you shouldn’t have said yes if you didn’t want to. It’d be fully in character for her. Rosemary could also say something similar. If they do, I might be able to forgive this...but if it’s not called attention to by the other characters, then it’s a massive failure as a scene to me.

--

Did I miss anything? Do you want my thoughts on something in particular? Shoot me a message HERE and I’ll do my best to answer! 

[fanfalc-616]

The eighth chapter of Time For Amnesia AU!

I love cliffhangers >:D

Cole is done eating first, and he mumbles something about training before heading off. With a sigh, Zane goes after him, leaving the other four to themselves.

That is, until Nya gets up. “Jay, we need to finish that maintenance.” She reminds, and the two of them go out to do that.

And so now they’re down to two.

Lloyd glances over at Kai, clearly nervous. After fidgeting for a few moments, he speaks. “Well… if we’re starting over and everything… my name is Lloyd Garmadon.”

“Kai Smith.” Kai returns, eyeing the blond warily. Savior of Ninjago, huh? He certainly doesn’t look the part, so there must be more to him than meets the eye.

The blond cracks a small smile. “I already knew that.”

“And I already knew your name was Lloyd. You told me before, remember?” Kai shoots back, crossing his arms.

Lloyd shrinks back a little, seeming surprised by this. But he recovers quickly, although his smile is slightly more strained. “I guess I did.” He admits.

There’s an awkward pause, and after about a minute of it, Kai decides to speak up.

“Were we dating too?”

Lloyd gives him the most horrified and disgusted expression that he’s ever seen. “Wha- No! No, I- First Spinjitzu Master, you’re basically my older brother! And you keep insisting that I’m only twelve- which isn’t true, but- you, Zane, Cole, and Jay are dating, but not-“ Lloyd cuts himself off with a shudder.

Kai holds his hands up in surrender. “I don’t know these things!” He defends himself. “And you most certainly don’t look twelve, so it’s a fair question!”

“Well, I mean, I’m only twelve if you don’t count the Tomorrow’s Tea.” Lloyd admits. “But you basically assigned yourself as my older brother, and I can’t think of you as anything but that.”

He decides to ignore the whole ‘older brother’ thing for the moment. “Tomorrow’s Tea? Were you aged up magically or something?”

“That’s the gist of it, yeah.” Lloyd confirms. “I can still be a little immature sometimes, but I’ve been working on acting my age.”

Kai stares at him for a few seconds. “What kind of life have we been living?”

A chuckle escapes the blond. “A weird, crazy, dangerous one.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Kai comments, “That’s not making me feel any better about staying on this ship.”

Tension suddenly floods the blond, and he rapidly shakes his head, throwing his hands up placatingly. “I’m- I’m exaggerating a little! It’s not really- uh. We have the danger under control, mostly.”

“... mostly?” Kai narrows his eyes in suspicion. What does he mean by that?

Lloyd winces with an uncomfortable laugh. “Uh… yeah. Mostly.” He agrees.

“You said you were the Savior of Ninjago. Just what have you been saving Ninjago from?” Kai’s not sure he’s going to like whatever answer he’s getting, but he needs to know what kind of danger he and Nya are in.

“Pretty much everything, but it’s not like I do it alone. You guys are the best team I could ask for, and I wouldn't have made it past my first fight without you all… and you in particular.” Lloyd glances away. “Like I said before, you’re basically my older brother. You’re always there to pull my butt out of the fire- sometimes more literally than others.”

“What do you mean, ‘literally’? Did I save you from an active volcano or something?”

He’s definitely taken aback by the excitement Lloyd shows at his words. “Do you- do you remember that?” He sounds thrilled at the idea, a large grin on his face.

For some reason, Kai feels like he doesn’t want to let him down, but he’s not going to lie about something like this.

“I- I was kind of joking. I didn’t think that was an actual thing that could’ve happened.” He admits, feeling somewhat guilty for getting his hopes up.

Lloyd’s smile slowly starts to die. “Oh.” He bites his lip, shoulders sagging.

After a few moments, Kai finds his curiosity getting the better of him. As much as he wants to shut these people out, if he’s really missing memories… he needs to know what life he’s lost.

“What happened at the volcano?” He questions.

Lloyd blinks a few times, seeming surprised by the question. But then he smiles again- not as cheery as before, but still happy. “It’s when you unlocked your True Potential- and when you found out I was the green ninja.”

Kai blinks. “What’s a ‘True Potential’?”

So Lloyd starts explaining, and Kai has to constantly interrupt with questions because he keeps glossing over things that he seems to think Kai will understand, but he eventually gets to the whole volcano thing and how it ended.

“So what you’re telling me is that I had the thought, ‘I don’t have to be the best at everything’ and then I started glowing and stuff?” Kai gives him a skeptical look.

“Okay, it sounds really stupid when you say it like that, but unlocking your True Potential is a big deal. I know it sounds weird, but it’s how you’re able to control your powers.”

Kai blinks. “Uh. So I need to re-unlock my True Potential before I can control my fire powers?”

Lloyd hesitates a moment. “I’m not sure.” He admits. “Normally, yeah, but since we have the Soul Bond-“

“We have a what?” Kai stares at him in shock, trying to process the words.

“Oh… right.” Lloyd gives a nervous chuckle, glancing off to the side. “Um… forget I said that, okay?”

“No, that seems like a big deal, and you need to explain it.” The brunet demands.

Lloyd shifts nervously, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s a long story-“

“We have time.” Kai argues, crossing his arms and staring the blond down.

“It’s really complicated-“ Lloyd tries.

“I’ll pay close attention.” The brunet counters. He needs to know what he means by ‘Soul Bond’.

Lloyd seems to have run out of excuses, and he stutters out a few things he can’t make out, clearly trying to come up with some reason why he can’t tell him.

“Kai- look, just trust me on this, okay? It’s not a story you’re ready for.”

With a huff, the brunet gets up from the table and walks out. Whatever, it’s not like he actually needs to know any of this stuff. He doesn’t need those dumb four years, he’s got plenty of other memories! Yeah, that’s fine. He doesn’t need them. He’s perfectly happy how he is.

Storming out onto the deck, Kai stumbles and stops in his tracks when he sees both Zane and Cole. No, he doesn’t want to deal with them, they have all kind of issues going on-

He freezes when he sees the robot reach over and tenderly lock Cole into a gentle kiss, wrapping a hand around the noirette’s waist to pull him in closer.

The sight makes something in his stomach twirl, but he’s not sure what the hell it is or what he’s feeling, so he does the only thing he can think of.

He runs away, back into the ship and into the sectioned room from before. He has no idea why his heart is racing or what the pang in his chest means, but he does his best to blot it out, sitting down in the red area.

Clutching his knees to his chest, Kai squeezes his eyes shut, unsure of why seeing that is affecting him so much. He’s seen people kiss before, but he’s never felt like this! He’s never reacted with a racing heart and flushed face, never reacted with shortness of breath and a pang in his che-

Oh.

Is he…

Is he in love with them?

[recentanimenews]

FEATURE: How Usopp the Liar Became a True Hero in One Piece

  Hello everyone, and welcome to Why It Works. Over the past couple months, I’ve been powering through One Piece at breakneck speed, journeying from the early crew recruitment through the end of Enies’ Lobby. After my earlier attempts at breaking into the series sputtered out, I’m finally learning what so many fans already know: One Piece improves at an absurd rate over its first several arcs, polishing and expanding in basically every way a narrative can. Nowhere is that evolution more clear than in the journey of the Straw Hats’ most unlikely crewmate: Usopp the Liar.

    When Usopp first entered the crew, I frankly found him pretty obnoxious. He appeared to be an icon of the kind of loud, slapstick comedy you frequently find in battle anime, which doesn’t have much appeal to me. Additionally, it was clear from the start that he couldn’t measure up to titans like Luffy or Zoro in terms of physical strength, and given his clownish disposition, I feared he was destined to be relegated to the peanut gallery — one of those characters who can only stand on the sidelines, cheering for the actual heroes to succeed.

  As it turns out, while Usopp is a bit of a clown, he ultimately proved to more often play the opposite role. While Luffy, Zoro, or Sanji might happily engage in some ludicrous, death-defying shenanigans, Usopp could generally be found on Nami’s side, playing the straight man to their ridiculous ideas. The reason for that would neatly resolve my second concern — both One Piece and Usopp himself are perfectly aware of his own fragility. While many of the Straw Hats are superhumans enjoying a superhuman adventure, Usopp is a normal human on a superhuman adventure, with all the incessant peril that would involve.

    The wildly uneven strengths of the Straw Hats is actually one of the more interesting things about One Piece. Not all of the Straw Hats are fighters; they’re first and foremost a ship’s crew, with several members more suited to maintenance or navigation than combat. Because of this, the non-combat-oriented crew members frequently have to find ways to contribute that avoid direct fighting. Over the first several arcs, Usopp offers sharpshooting, basic engineering, misdirection, and a profound talent for making friends with strange, dangerous creatures.

  Rather than being a dramatic drawback, this uneven power distribution actually becomes one of One Piece’s signature strengths. With this need for dramatic flexibility baked into the very fundamentals of its cast dynamics, One Piece is essentially required to come up with conflicts more complicated than “all of our guys fight all of their guys,” offering far more narrative creativity and complexity than your average action property. At the same time, this imbalance also helps emphasize the scale of a world like One Piece, wherein a character like Usopp will perpetually be staring up at giants he could never hope to face. 

    Eventually, Usopp’s persistent efforts to prove his worth as a crewmate fall short, and he begins to internalize the futility of his situation. By the time the Straw Hats reach Water 7, their journeys have long since lost their original playfulness and even mightier monsters are looming on the horizon. His journey echoes that of the Going Merry itself; beaten and bruised, he no longer has the strength to match up with their challenges or the hope of ever being a “great warrior” like them. His ultimate goal is the point they’re starting from, as they gaze toward challenges he could never even imagine. And thus, when Luffy makes his well-intended but deeply misguided speech about abandoning the Merry, Usopp explodes.

  Usopp clearly loves the Merry, even more so than any other member of the Straw Hats. They essentially “joined the crew” at the same time, and the ship had been not just his friend, but also perhaps his most essential role within the crew. Though Usopp was not a shipwright, he took maintaining the ship as a clear point of pride, something that was usually all too rare on their journeys.

    But more than his feelings about the Merry itself, Usopp personally relates to the Merry. He sees himself in their ship — a creaky, amusing companion who’s journeyed with them this far, but simply doesn’t possess the strength to help them any longer. Luffy’s dismissal of the Merry feels like a dismissal of him, and the anger of his own response reflects his understanding that Luffy is right. Usopp isn’t really strong enough for this journey anymore and doesn’t really have any skills they could not replace. He’s not an indispensable member of the Straw Hats, he’s just Usopp — and he suspects, if Luffy were willing to be as pragmatic about his crewmates as his ship, Luffy would likely toss him off too.

  It’s a hard thing to come face to face with your own limitations like that, and harder still when the verdict comes from the person you respect the most. Usopp does not accept this situation with dignity; he rages against it, blaming Luffy for his callousness, and literally fighting his captain to prove he can measure up in this world. Given his admitted understanding of both his and the Going Merry’s limits, you could perhaps consider this his way of saying goodbye — of giving the crew an excuse to leave him by leaving first and thus taking the blame upon himself. So certain of his inadequacy, perhaps this is the only way he thinks he can still help the Straw Hats.

    But ultimately, fate intervenes. Captured first by Franky’s family, and then by the World Government, Usopp finds himself taking part in the Straw Hats’ next adventure in spite of himself. Though he truly believes he is not strong or brave enough to be a Straw Hat anymore, he no longer has the choice to abandon their adventure. And so, Usopp defends himself the only way he can, by employing a power he’s been cultivating since his very first episode.

  Usopp lies. He has always been a teller of tall tales, bragging of the foes he’s bested and giants he’s befriended — but now, surging across the tempestuous seas of the grand line, he is in a world of true giants. In order to believe he belongs here, he lies — both to his crewmates and to himself. He puts on a pointed mask and dons the mantle of Sniper King, the hero of countless battles, whose brave feats on Sniper Island and legions of followers mark him as a clear equal of the Straw Hats.

    Usopp might not be strong enough to be a Straw Hat, but Sniper King can be. After all, Sniper King is as strong as Usopp says he is. Usopp uses his signature talent to ultimately fool himself, proclaiming himself strong and brave, and through doing so forcing himself to embody those qualities. If his conflict is a crisis of faith, then he just needs a new symbol to believe in. Usopp might not truly be on par with the other Straw Hats, but if he can force himself to believe he is, then perhaps the difference is negligible.

  Having given himself permission to believe he is Straw Hat material, Sniper King goes on to prove that he really is Straw Hat material. Not with his combat strengths — among the Straw Hats, he alone doesn’t defeat a member of CP9. Instead, he chips in with all the strengths he’s been cultivating so far, the various oddball strengths that nonetheless add up to an essential teammate. His upgrades to Nami’s weapon allow her to win multiple battles. His kind and courageous heart win him the friendship of the Lobby’s own giant protectors. His genuinely formidable sniping abilities keep Robin safe. In the end, his passionate faith in his captain and ability to boast of greatness even in the face of certain death gives Luffy the last, vital push to secure victory.

    Usopp demonstrates that whatever our natural talents, we are as indispensable as we choose to be. Through his journey, he not only expands One Piece’s dramatic horizons but also illustrates something essential about the nature of bravery and how we construct our self-image. I could easily relate to that sharp terror of not measuring up to my peers and the ways that optimistic lies can help us through impossible circumstances. Usopp embodies the difficulty of believing in yourself, and his journey feels all the more meaningful for just how difficult it was and how great the distance between him and his friends. He’s a remarkably compelling hero and my favorite Straw Hat so far.

      Nick Creamer has been writing about cartoons for too many years now and is always ready to cry about Madoka. You can find more of his work at his blog Wrong Every Time, or follow him on Twitter.

  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: Nick Creamer

[snowdice]

The Horror of Stereotypes (Part 3)[Dice Roll 6]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Remus/Logan/Patton with Remus/Logan focus (more pre-romantic considering the situation), Remus & Roman, Logan/Patton (established, but not at the forefront for most of it)

Characters:

Main: Remus, Logan

Appear: Roman, Patton, Deceit (but blink and you’ll miss it)

Summary: There had always been a certain stereotype about people like him for as long as anyone could remember. After the Heart War of 1963, those stereotypes had been legalized and places like this had been created to enforce the universal truth: everyone had a soulmate. One soulmate. No more and no less.

At least they were supposed to.

When Remus’s brother gets arrested because of his two soulmarks, Remus risks everything by infiltrating the facility he legally should be in as well due to his own two soulmates to save him. There he meets Logan and it turns out they have a lot in common: they both got hired this week, they both have two soulmates, and they’re both here for the same reason.

Oh. And as it turns out, they’re each other’s soulmates too.

Universe: Soulmate AU

Genre: Horror (Yeah, it’s a fun combo. The horror vibe is mostly contained to chapter 3 though. It’s all still horrifying, but that specific tone is pretty much only there.)

Notes: Torture, Torture of a main character, Dystopian, Blood, Guns, Gunshot wounds, Leg wounds, Mentions of Desecrating an Animal Corpse by a Main Character, Imprisonment, Mentions of Cannibalism, Genocide Suggested, Sexual Innuendo, Fear, A tasteless but not serious incest joke, Medical procedures.

This is part of my Roll the Dice Event which is where I do random ships, universe, and genres for the Sanders Sides fandom. For more details see this post. I posted a few days ago my results from this dice roll here.

Look I have no idea how to write horror, but I’m pretty proud of the vibe I managed to get going there for this chapter even if it isn’t the most spectacular horror piece ever. It was fun to step outside my comfort zone with it.

Part 1  Part 2

Remus was smarter about the second night. Gavin was clearly a control freak and didn’t want to leave more than one teammate in the office without him there, likely believing they’d conspire against him. Which… in this case… was true, but it was still annoying as hell. So, Remus slipped Logan his phone number during lunch with a note and at a bit past 5, Remus told everyone he was going home and hid in the bathroom again.

He got a text from an unknown number an hour latter that Gavin had left, and Logan was alone in the office. Perfect. When Remus returned to the office, Logan had shut off all the lights in the front, but there was a light coming from the door to the design room. He slipped inside and closed the door behind him.

“We’re alone,” Remus said. Logan nodded and grabbed a bag from under his desk.

“I brought food,” Logan said, pulling a smaller bag out and opening it. He took out a couple of sandwiches, apples, and bottles of water. “We should eat now.” He sat one of each object together in front of the chair next to him and took a bite of his own sandwich.

Remus obeyed the silent instructions and took a seat next to him, turning the chair so they were facing each other, their knees almost knocking together.

“I hope it suffices,” Logan said when Remus took a bit.

“Well I would have preferred lobster,” Remus said. Logan frowned at him. “It’s a joke, dork,” Remus said rolling his eyes.

Logan gave him a cool look. “I see.”

Well now it was awkward. Remus took another bite of his sandwich.

Logan ate neatly and quickly, taking a drink of water before he spoke. “What is your plan?” he asked.

“My plan for what?” Remus asked through a mouthful of food.

Logan gave him a droll look. “To find your brother and get him out of this place.”

“Oh, that plan,” Remus said. Logan watched him expectantly. “It’s a bit of a work in progress.”

“You don’t…” Logan said taking a breath and pinching his brow. “You don’t have a plan?!”

“I was sort of winging it.”

“Well we are not doing that.”

“Oh yeah,” Remus pouted, “then what’s your plan, Brainiac?”

Logan turned to the console and clicked a few buttons. The screen on the wall next to them lit up, and a blueprint of what looked like the entire facility appeared. “There are four levels of this building,” Logan explained. “Each requiring a different security level to get into. This floor includes offices like ours as well as the general containment pens. The two floors below us are the ‘interrogation’ rooms and housing for those in those systems, the lower level being for more high-profile cases. Below those levels is what most people working here think is just for maintenance, which, it does in fact have things like plumbing and electrical wiring as well as storage for the janitorial staff.”

“But?”

Logan pushed a few more buttons to bring up a map of the bottom floor. Remus scanned the floorplan, committing as much of it to memory as he could. “But it has a few more things down there as well. Specifically, the room where they store records for this place.”

“What kind of records?”

“The kind that, among other things, tell us the exact location of every prisoner in this place.”

“Including Roman and Patton.”

“Yes. Including Roman and Patton.” He paused and reached into the larger bag again, pulling some things out. “I managed to get a key card that should work to get us down there, and I’ll be able to unload the information onto this.” He held up the flash drive. “From there it’ll just be extracting them and getting into the getaway car I have prepared in the woods.”

“Oh,” Remus said. “That’s a good plan.”

“I am aware. Are you prepared to go?”

“Uh,” Remus blinked at him. “Now?”

“This is happening as quickly as I can possibly make it happen,” his eyes bore into Remus with the intensity of hellfire. “I will go by myself if you don’t come.”

“No, no,” Remus said putting his hands up. “I’m coming.”

Logan nodded and pressed a button before he got to his feet. “Good.” He tossed him a mask from the bag. “Wear that. I’ll flip the cameras off on the first floor for 10 minutes. No one should notice them looping at this time of day and that way, no one will know where we came from. Let’s go.”

Remus shoved the mask over his face and hopped to his feet, having to hurry after Logan as he left the office. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, walking with a purposeful stride. They got to the elevator and Logan swiped a card over the sensor in front of it.

“We take the elevator down two floors, but then we have to use a staircase to get to the bottom floor,” he said once they stepped inside.

“Okay,” Remus agreed.

He didn’t think either of them had realized exactly what that meant.

The second the elevator doors opened, they could hear screaming. Logan inhaled sharply next to him but made no other sound. Neither of them moved until the elevator doors started to close. Remus shot his arm out to stop them. Logan moved then, stepping out of the elevator and into the hallway. Remus followed behind him.

Logan took the time to take a shaky breath and then started walking, his steps far less sure than they had been upstairs. The screaming didn’t let up, the voices blended together, and shrieks and begging echoed down the corridor. Remus had wondered the day before how going up to the pens upstairs could be a reward. He understood now.

His ears caught something through the sounds of pain and misery right as they were about to turn a corner. He reached out and snagged Logan by the back of the shirt. He flinched at the sudden touch, on edge from where they were, but managed to not make any sound other than a soft gasp. Remus pressed them into a darker corner, turned Logan to face him, and put a finger over his own lips.

The footsteps Remus had heard grew closer as well as the sound of two voices. One of the voices mumbled something and the other one barked out a laugh: a high-pitched sound that made it feel like bugs were crawling up Remus’s spine. He and Logan locked eyes. The footsteps passed. Remus nodded and Logan nodded back. Then they were moving again.

They made it to a door and Logan stopped, fingers fumbling for the keycard and almost dropping it. He pressed it against the sensor, but he was shaking so hard that it didn’t take. Remus wrapped his hand around his wrist to steady it, and the door beeped softly as it unlocked. The door closed behind them, shutting out the noise, but not the knowledge of it.

“There’ll be a guard down here,” Logan breathed. Remus nodded his understanding and they proceeded with caution.

The silence of this level, broken only by the sound of their breathing and their footsteps, was all the more spine-chilling with the echo of the last level still in their ears. There were giant pipes along the side of this main hall that Remus didn’t know the use for. The hall twisted and turned. They passed a few doors, but Logan didn’t even glance at them in this maze. He knew where they were going.

Remus heard a sharp sound in the distance and narrowed his eyes. He tapped Logan on the shoulder who looked back at him. He jerked his head toward a cart filled with what looked like spare parts and, without a word, they hid behind it together. They waited. After a few long moments, a man strolled by, whistling happily and walked into one of the rooms they’d just passed. The sound of his tune slowly faded away.

They got back to their feet and continued on their way even more cautiously if that were possible. Finally, they made it to the correct door, and Logan swiped the key card once again to get in. Remus followed him inside and watched as he hurried up to the computer and stuck the flash drive in before starting to type faster than Remus had ever seen anyone type. After a few moments, he stopped typing and Remus watched as the flash drive started to flash blue. They watched it in silence for almost a whole minute before it stopped flashing and went a solid blue. Logan ripped it from the computer and typed something else before turning to him.

Remus shot him a thumbs up and poked his head out into the hallway. He didn’t hear or see anything, so he slowly crept out of the room and held the door open for Logan. The door snapped shut and they both flinched as it echoed down the long hall, but nothing happened. They both took a breath before turning to walk back the way they came.

Remus froze when he heard whistling start up, nowhere near close, but the direction it was in wasn’t good for them. It was far away, but down a very long hallway. He grabbed Logan to try to pull him out of view of where the man was sure to be in a second, but it was too late.

“Hey, who are you?!” a man’s voice yelled from the doorway at the end of the hall.

Remus met Logan’s eyes. “Run.”

They ran, and they ran fast, but they could hear the man running after them. They tore down the main hallway and Remus knew there was absolutely no way they’d be able to get out of the door without being caught and even if they did, someone on the floor above would likely notice the commotion.

His eyes lit on something and he suddenly remembered the plans of this place he’d seen. He grabbed Logan’s arm and pulled roughly. The man stumbled after him as they changed course, down what looked like a dead end, but Remus ducked under the large pipe and jumped up onto a ledge behind it, finding one of the service doors that was hidden there. Upon seeing it, Logan was immediately with him completely. Remus tore open the door and it luckily didn’t squeak. He jumped up inside it and Logan smashed himself in behind him and closed the door carefully, plunging them into absolute darkness.

If they got caught in here, it was over. There wasn’t anywhere to go, and they were smashed in against each other tightly, but that was only if their pursuer knew about and remembered these little nooks existed. They panted, their breath mingling.

“Is that a flash drive in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Remus asked under his breath.

“Is now really the time?” Logan hissed.

“Sorry,” Remus whispered back. “It’s how I cope.” Logan just puffed out a shaky breath against Remus’s cheek.

A cheery sharp whistle cut through the air from somewhere close to their hiding place. Logan jumped, but luckily didn’t make a sound. Remus wrapped his arms around his back and pulled him tight against his chest. The footsteps moved on a bit. “He’s trying to freak us out,” Remus breathed into his ear. “Don’t fall for it.” Remus felt his face rub against his chest as he nodded sharply, and hands tightly gripped the front of his shirt.

“You know,” the man’s voice called. It was an aimless call, getting a bit louder and softer, likely as he turned in a circle to address the room as a hole. Good. He didn’t know their location. “I was actually hired as an interrogator here, but I was too good at it.” He whistled again, sharp and high. Logan flinched against him. “I kinda broke everyone but, you know, not just in the way they wanted.”

Logan was not made for all of this, Remus thought as he shook just a bit against his chest. He hadn’t known the man long, but Remus imagined he was probably made more for coffee shops and chalkboards and using fabric bookmarks instead of whatever paper like thing he could find around like Remus did. He wondered briefly what it would have been like to meet him in a library or college classroom. How could it have been different if their first touch had not been riddled with anxiety and fear? Who was Logan when he could just be Logan and not whoever he was in this place? Remus did not know. Yet, Remus couldn’t help but admire how well he was holding up, silent and composed despite his shaking.

His fingers started tapping a pattern against Remus’s arm. One-two-three-four, pause. One-two-three-four-five-six-seven, pause. One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight, pause. A breathing exercise, Remus realized as he inhaled and exhaled to the beat, to keep himself calm.

“See I get mad really easy,” the man said outside the door. He was walking toward their hiding place now, and Remus hoped it was luck and not that he had an idea of where they could be. Logan’s fingers stuttered, unable to keep up the pattern. Remus began tapping his fingers against Logan’s back for him.

“I’m not too mad now. I’d probably just incapacitate you and then turn you over. You wouldn’t get interrogated by me then. Like I said, there’s a reason why I’m a security guard now. So, you’d probably be much better off. Here’s the thing. You hiding? That’s making me very angry and no one’s going to be around till morning if I don’t call ‘em. We’d have a lot of time to play.” He was very close now and Remus could feel Logan’s fingernails dig into his skin. “So, what do you say?” he asked. “Wanna come out now?” Remus felt Logan shake his head. Remus tapped him a bit more insistently on the back.

“Come on,” the voice entreated and finally, finally muffled a bit as the man turned in a different direction. “Come out, come out, wherever you are…” the voice started to fade as he walked away. Remus let out a harsh breath and rubbed Logan’s arms a bit as though trying to warm him up.

They stayed there for hours, long after the man stopped speaking to them and seemingly gave up. They stayed until an hour before they had to be back in the office, pressed up against each other and barely whispering a word. It wouldn’t do to go missing though and it was best to leave when the morning and night shifts were likely switching, so they exited their hiding place a quietly as they could. Remus’s muscles were aching, and he was exhausted. He was sure the same held for Logan. Remus looked at him when they were finally in the light again. His clothing was soaked through with sweat from the stress and from being in the warm little space all night. Remus could feel that he was in a similar state.

“We need a change of clothes,” Remus breathed, still not willing to put noise into the world. Logan nodded tightly. They snuck back upstairs as carefully as they could and managed not to get caught. Logan had the foresight to bring himself a change of clothes and he had some sweats and a sweater in case the office was cold stored away in his desk that Remus was able to fit into. It wasn’t exactly his style, but it was less conspicuous than wearing the sweat soaked outfit he wore yesterday. They washed up in the bathroom sink side-by-side.

Logan met his eyes in the mirror, looking exhausted and strung out. They needed to report to the office in 10 minutes. “It’s going to be a long day.” It was the first thing either of them had said above a whisper in hours.

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

[victorie552onepiecespeedrun]

NO CHAPTER, USOPP RANT

Ok, so after reading that disaster of a “discussion” in the last chapter again, I see a few things. First, the catalysator to the whole mess was, of course, Usopp’s grief over Merry. Everybody knew Usopp loves Merry (probably the most of them all, I mean, it was a gift from his friend Kaya!), he always repaired her, he would take the news badly, probably the worst of all of them. Heck, everyone expected it!

But nobody could expect the kidnapping, robbery and beating that Usopp experienced in this arc so far. Separately, these things would be bad but we all know Usopp would handle them with little problem. Together, we got an admittedly pathetic sight of weakness and humiliation. (And bravery, as Usopp went ALONE to retrieve the money! That plan failed but it still is a great feat of character! But Usopp doesn’t see it that way I’m afraid.) Really, it doesn’t look good.

That of course isn’t a problem for Straw Hats. They love Usopp. Things happen. Let’s make the best of what we have, right? I mean, come on! In the Skypiea Arc their ship was destroyed and Chopper was so scared they would be mad at him for not guarding Merry properly! And Usopp HIMSELF told him it’s not a big deal (it was a big deal, even if manga magicked it away for the time being. WHO REPAIRED MERRY). Like, show yourself the courtesy you show others, Usopp!

BUT NO. Usopp is a person who lives with extraordinary people, who are either strong as Heck and show it (Luffy, Zoro, Sanji) or smart as heck (Nami, Robin, Chopper). Sometimes they are both, darn it (Robin, where are you). Usopp, as a genius, clearly belongs to the second category but because (I assume here but come on) he’s a MAN and a WARRIOR, he should be strong and never screw up, I guess (Chopper is the baby of the crew so he doesn’t count I GUESS). I mean, Nami is a weak crew member too, and practically proud of it at this point (you made her a magic OP weather stick, Usopp. Do you remember it? Who will maintenance it if you’re gone)! Does she experience this kind of thing, even though she went away for a moment and made them face Arlong? NO!!! She’s confident! She trust her friends! Damn, the whole Arlong Park Arc was about her learning to rely on someone else! The point is, you DON’T HAVE to be super strong to be helpful to your crew, Usopp, so get rid of that toxic masculinity stuff!

(MERRY IS NOT YOUR FAULT. YOU DID THE BEST YOU COULD.)

(He challenged Luffy to a duel because of some Warrior’s Honor reasons. I admit I don’t really get it, so I’ll leave it here)

The last and biggest thing is, Usopp loves and believes in his friends, his nakama. Usopp also has CRIPPLING low self-esteem issues at this point, so he thinks he’s not that much. So, in the sight of his recent screw-ups (they pilled up in this arc, you planned it, Oda), he sees the future Pirate King, The Greatest Swordsman in The World, The Great Chief, The Great Doctor, Navigator… and he doesn’t fit. He doesn’t belong there. So he quits. So his friends won’t have to slow down in their pursuits to wait for him. So he won’t screw them over, or disappoint them, when in the future they’ll look at him and find him lacking, just as he finds himself lacking right now.

All in all, this is a very relatable stuff we all feel sometimes. Still, I want to SHAKE USOPP TILL HE GETS HIS COMMON SENSE BACK and see how great he really is. But it doesn’t work like that. Usopp has some soul-searching to do and Straw Hats have to pull out all stops with their Friendship. Add this manga’s general craziness to that, and we get GREATNESS.

(ALSO: If you feel weak, you TRAIN, Usopp. All ZORO does is nap and train. Take a page of his book, Usopp.)

I can’t wait to see how Oda will resolve that issue. But I trust the man – he will do well by Usopp.

That was meta on rOP 104

[anubislover]

Siblings Lost and Found

(Ikkaku's been the Heart Pirates' mechanic for a year, but is she just another one of Law's subordinates, or does she mean more? Special thanks (and blame) to @shambledsurgeon for suggesting this idea and @scribblrhob for suggesting the song "In My Life" by The Beatles for maximum feels. Any tears are their fault)

It was well past midnight when Ikkaku’s shift was finally over. Clione as he come to relieve her, and she couldn’t be more grateful. In the year since she’d become the Heart Pirates’ mechanic, she’d discovered that life on the high seas wasn’t always as exciting as it sounded.

In fact, with the ocean so calm and little more to be seen beyond schools of fish and the occasional shark, it was hard to stay awake and focused. She’d resorted to drinking three cups of coffee and playing with her hair, braiding and straightening until finally settling on a pair of simple pigtails, mostly for the sake of getting her thick locks off the back of her neck. The Polar Tang had been underwater for a while, so it was stuffy and humid—Bepo would start complaining soon, and Law would have to agree to surface.

Thinking about the poor Mink, Ikkaku decided to take a detour to the library. Aside from the operatory and the morgue, it was the room with the best air conditioning and Bepo could sometimes be found bunked up in there if his quarters became too hot. If he were awake, maybe she’d sit up with him for a bit; with all the caffeine in her system, she knew she wouldn’t be drifting off anytime soon.

The library was in fact occupied, but not by who she’d expected. Slumped over one of the tables was Law, medical books and papers scattered beneath him. He’d been suffering another bout of insomnia for the past week, but normally when he was like that, he spent his nights in the lab or his office.

Must be avoiding Shachi and Penguin’s hovering, she thought, shaking her head. When the captain got like this, those two always went out of their way to try to force him to take care of himself. As much as Law griped about it being insubordination, she was positive he secretly appreciated it; after all, they were two of his closest friends. Practically his brothers.

She wished her own brothers had been like that.

Ikkaku quietly crept into the room to lower the lights—Law must have been truly exhausted to have fallen asleep while working. She briefly wondered if she should wake him long enough to help him move to the couch, but she decided against it—he’d suffer some nasty neck cramps in the morning, but it was better than disturbing his much-needed rest.

When she tried to remove the pen from his hand, however, Law stirred. Ikkaku froze, half crouched above him, silently praying that he hadn’t awoken. She was close enough that, even in the dim light, she could see the way his face scrunched up. Was he dreaming? She could see his eyes darting about under his eyelids, as if searching for something, and his breath came out in shuddering little gasps.

Law was surrounded by choking death. White hospital walls were engulfed in flame and crumbling around him as he ran through the winding, labyrinthine halls.

Mother and father were dead. The soldiers were killing everyone they saw. Flevance was in ruins. It was hot and everything reeked of smoke, blood, and stinking death. Wide, lifeless eyes stared at him in cold judgement as he sprinted past crumpled corpses.

You told her to stay put, they whispered maliciously. This is your fault.

No. He’d told her to hide in the closet for just a few minutes. He’d always intended to come back for her. He didn’t mean to leave his sister behind. He thought she’d be safe!

He had to get to Lamie!

There! The closet was straight ahead! He could hear Lamie inside, screaming for her big brother to save her.

He flung open the door only to find a woman with dark, curly hair and a bandana staring up at him instead.

“Law, it’s me…”

Taking in his pained and panicked expression, it was clear that Law was in the clutches of a pretty intense nightmare, and Ikkaku wasn’t the kind of woman who stood idly by while her captain was suffering.

Grateful that he didn’t have Kikoku on him to slice her to bits if he woke up in a hostile mood, she grabbed his shoulder and shook hard. “Law, it’s me. Hey, wake up!”

“Lamie?” he asked, eyes bleary and unfocused.

“Law, what’s—” Ikkaku started, only for her captain to grab her shoulder and pull her in for a hug. Immediately, she stiffened. Law was not a hugger. Sure, on good days he deigned to be hugged—mostly by Bepo—but he wasn’t the sort to initiate platonic, physical displays of affection.

“You’re ok,” he gasped. He squeezed her tightly and buried his head in her shoulder, breathing deeply. She didn’t smell like smoke or sickness or death.

She smelled like engine oil and coffee, though, with a hint of ginger lotion underneath. Scents that could never be associated with Lamie.

Reluctantly, he became aware of his surroundings. He wasn’t in the charred remains of the hospital. Wasn’t surrounded by the bodies of his friends and family, or soldiers pointing guns at him.

He was in his ship’s library, alone with his mechanic, who was staring at him in shock because he was practically crushing her to his chest.

Law mentally berated himself as he pushed Ikkaku away, brain finally catching up to his body. He’d fallen asleep, had a nightmare, and like some frightened child had latched onto the first person he saw upon being awoken. Disgusting, uncaptainlike behavior that never should have been witnessed by his subordinate.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes while trying to play it cool to retain some dignity. “I…thought you were someone else.”

“Someone named Lamie,” Ikkaku pressed, taking the seat beside him and reaching for his hand. “Law, please; I know I’ve only been around for a year, but if something’s bothering you—”

“It’s nothing.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Bullshit. ‘Nothing’ doesn’t cause nightmares. You can talk to me.”

“Fine, it’s not nothing, but it’s none of your damn business,” he growled, refusing to look at her. He felt irrationally angry; in his dream, he’d been so close to saving his sister, only for Ikkaku to replace her. Then, upon awakening, he’d had a faint moment of delusional hope that maybe Lamie really was alive, only to be replaced again.

Ikkaku recoiled, his harsh tone stinging as much as his words. It wasn’t any of her business because she was just his subordinate. Yet despite his creepy and sadistic tendencies, over the past year, she’d grown attached to him. He was caring and honorable and protective; everything she’d wished her brothers had been. In fact, she’d started to wonder if he felt a hint of brotherly affection towards her; he never seemed to give her more than a slap on the wrist for backtalk. Was quick to scare off unsavory men in taverns. Trusted her judgement when it came to the submarine’s engine, even though she’d been just an apprentice mechanic when he’d hired her.

Clearly, she’d looked too deeply into his actions. He tolerated her sass because he was too busy to reprimand her. Protected her because he couldn’t risk something happening to his mechanic. Accepted her input because he didn’t know enough to contradict her.

Ikkaku wasn’t anything special to him. Everything he did was for practical reasons.

Pulling away before she broke her own heart, she grumbled, “Fine, but I’m telling Penguin about this. You need to talk to someone, and if you don’t trust me—”

“I trust you,” Law stated, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, brow furrowed in confusion.

“You trust me to keep the Tang sailing. To tell you if the engine needs repairs or if there’s a maintenance issue. To have your back in a fight. You trust me like any captain should trust his subordinate.” As she stood up, she forced a smile; something she hadn’t had to do since joining his crew. “That’s the kind of trust that matters, right? That we both know how to do our jobs and keep each other alive on the treacherous, unforgiving sea. Anything else…well that’s just gravy, right?” Despite herself, her lip quivered slightly, forcing her to pretend to organize some of the books on the table so he wouldn’t see her moment of weakness.

From his seat, Law stared at her. In the year she’d been onboard, he’d determined his mechanic to be reckless, outspoken, and loyal. Compassionate to those she considered friends. Genuine. Determined. Intelligent. Vibrant.

Everything he’d imagined his sister would become.

Coming to a decision, Law grabbed Ikkaku’s forearm to get her attention. “Lamie…Lamie was my sister. She died in a hospital fire when I was a kid.”

“Oh gods,” Ikkaku whispered, free hand covering her mouth in horror.

“She wore pigtails,” he admitted, glancing at the twin bunches of hair. “Some days, it’s hard to remember her face, but I can always picture those.”

“I…shit, Law, I’ll take them out,” she offered, immediately reaching up to release the ties.

“Don’t. It’s fine. It just confused me. In the dream, I was searching for her. Everyone else was dead, and the hospital was burning all around me, but I had to find her. I’d told her to hide in a closet while I went to find mother and father, but they were already dead—”

“It’s ok,” she whispered, instinctively sitting back down so she could pull him into a hug. “You don’t need to tell me. I’m…that wasn’t your fault.” No wonder he was so reluctant to let people in. She’d heard about things like survivor’s guilt, and Bepo had implied that he’d lost a lot of people in his short life.

Ikkaku suddenly felt guilty for overstepping her boundaries. She should have let him come to her when he was ready instead of forcing her way in. Hell, she shouldn’t even be hugging him without permission!

But when she tried to pull away, she felt Law’s hand on her back, refusing to let her move an inch.

“You…make me miss her less. Her smile always brightened up the room. When she was sick, I spent a lot of my free time trying to cheer her up. To make her laugh. Sometimes, when you laugh, I close my eyes and pretend it’s hers. That I hadn’t failed, and she’d grown up to become a smart, vibrant young woman like you.”

Ikkaku worried her lip, mulling over his words and debating how she should respond. He’d opened up to her. Trusted her as more than a subordinate. She was something special to him.

He deserved to know she felt the same.

“Law, I…I grew up with four older brothers. All of them were dicks who wanted nothing to do with me. They’d cut my hair off, break my stuff, mock me for wanting to be a mechanic—hell, they once tried to abandon me in the woods.” She looked up at him with a small, sad smile. “So believe me when I say you didn’t fail. You did everything you could. Lamie was damn lucky to have such a loving, protective big brother.”

Law’s heart clenched. Honestly, he’d felt guilty, pushing his feelings for his sister onto Ikkaku. Partially because he felt like he was replacing Lamie; like he was trying to erase his mistakes. And partially because he knew it was unfair to Ikkaku. She deserved to be appreciated for herself, not as some substitute for a girl who died years ago.

But…she didn’t seem to mind. Considering her own brothers, perhaps Ikkaku had secretly appreciated those moments where he’d been a bit overprotective, or unconsciously spoiled her in some way. Perhaps Lamie would even approve of this coping mechanism. Perhaps his subconscious had put her in his dream to show him that, while it was too late for his sister, there was another girl he could still protect.

Such thoughts were better analyzed when he was less tired.

Arm dropping from its place at her back, he pulled away from the embrace. “Help me get to my quarters. Penguin will bitch for hours if he finds out I fell asleep in the library again.”

“Sure thing, Boss,” Ikkaku said, tugging him to his feet. It seemed their little moment was over, but she didn’t mind, especially if it meant Law would actually get some rest. “Want me to call Bepo? He’d be happy to let you use him as a pillow.”

“No. He needs his rest. We’ll surface first thing in the morning—the sub’s getting too stuffy.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, wrapping one of his long arms around her shoulders to better support his lethargic body as they walked down the hall in comfortable silence.

When they arrived at his quarters, she asked, “Sure you don’t need anything? I drank too much coffee, so I’ll be awake for a while. I could clean up the library, or—”

“If you want to help…” Law trailed off, hesitating. He internally debated voicing his request before finally swallowing his pride. “Stay with me a bit. To make sure I actually do fall back asleep. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Yeah. Sure, I can do that,” she said with a surprised smile.

Stepping aside, he let her into the room. “Just so you know, if you tell anyone about this, I’ll cut out your tongue and preserve it in formaldehyde.”

Her grin sharpened into something a bit more teasing. Ah, there was the creepy captain she knew and loved. “As if anyone would believe that the big, bad Surgeon of Death needed someone to hold his hand and scare the nightmares away.”

“I never asked you to hold my hand.”

She giggled before dragging his desk chair over to his bed while he kicked off his shoes and crawled under the covers.

“Did you check under the bed for monsters?” he asked dryly, a hint of his sarcastic smirk lifting his lips.

She rolled her eyes. “Please, like there’s anything scarier than you on this ship.”

“Damn straight,” he replied, letting out a jaw-cracking yawn. His eyes drooped a bit as his head sank into the pillow. “Know any lullabies?”

“A few. You really want one?”

“Could be nice, especially if it’s the last time I hear your voice should you not manage to keep your mouth shut about this.”

Sniggering, Ikkaku tousled his hair before clearing her throat, softy singing as her captain gradually drifted off.

“Though I know I'll never lose affection For people and things that went before I know I'll often stop and think about them In my life I love you more.”

END

[fandom-necromancer]

1503. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

This was prompted by an amazing anon! It got a bit long and might not be how you expected it, but I hope you enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Characters: RK900 and Connor | Ship: Hannor/Hancon (interpretable)

Good evening, Detroit. More and more deviants turn up dead in the streets or are reported missing. The police keep investigating this case, but so far not enough evidence has been found to find a suspect. The only advice is not to go outside alone when you are an android and to report any suspicious behaviour. More on this at eight with our expert Rick-

‘Would you mind shutting that off?’, Connor groaned, walking by the couch Hank sat on. ‘”So far not enough evidence has been found”, I can’t hear that! We know exactly what happens, we just can’t stop him.’ Hank muted the television and turned around, watching the android walking up and down the living room, Sumo following close behind. ‘Connor. Don’t worry, we’ll find a way.’ ‘I do worry!’, Connor shouted desperately, stopping to face the man. ‘As far as we know the only solution is to shoot him. He doesn’t deserve that.’ ‘Connor, he did kill multiple deviants’, Hank reminded him. ‘As did I! Not on this scale, but because I was programmed to research, not kill. Hank, he is my brother. We are few as is and… Just like Sixty, I can’t let him die.’ ‘Connor. We are still working on that trap, but if it gets any worse…’ ‘I know, I know. I just can’t stand all this… talk. We are lying to the public.’ ‘You can’t explain that to all of Detroit when people are losing their loved ones. They will kill him.’ Connor nodded and took up his pace again. ‘I mean, we can’t even do that. In all the fights, we haven’t even cracked his armour.’

Hank stood up and met the android midways. ‘Connor. Listen to me. The trap will work. We will deviate him and this will end. But you stressing your processor outside of work won’t help.’ ‘Fine, I’ll try to relax a bit.’ ‘Good idea.’

-

The abandoned Cyberlife warehouse sat almost peacefully behind him, as Connor looked out to the road leading to it. It had been half an hour ago that he had activated his mind palace and used the connection to Cyberlife to reach out for the rampaging android. It was an RK900, the only one ever finished. Programmed with the mission to kill deviants and never activated until Amanda was finally shut down. Without a controlling AI the android had did the only thing it knew how to do. The only advantage was that Connor was categorised as a special target of top priority. The RK900 had spent a few seconds in his mind palace, that was enough to have its full attention. Now all Connor could do was wait. Wait for the killing machine to arrive for one final attack.

The RK900 arrived in an automated taxi and stepped out. For Connor, the white blob in the distance was enough to fasten his grip on the heavy chain he held and brace himself. Soon after the android was already running at him with a gun in its hand. It was a truly terrifying sight and Connor really hoped this would work. The first shot rung through the air, but the RK800 had already calculated the trajectory and could evade it easily. The newer model refrained from shooting a second time and waited until the distance had melted away. Running full speed he aimed again for Connors head. His pump. Then his legs. He missed, but only by a few inches each time. Then he was close enough and Connor gave the signal. Sixty, positioned on the roof of the warehouse with a sniper was already on it and the next shot that echoed over the parking lot in front the old Cyberlife facility hit the RK900’s pistol perfectly, rendering it useless.

The RK900 snarled, clearly angered by this set back and threw the gun away to reach for a knife. Another bang and Sixty had gotten rid of that weapon too. The deviant killer roared in fury and decided that was enough. Only armed with his fists, he once again started running. Bang, bang, bang. The RK900 jerked a bit under the sudden gunfire from the sides but managed to stabilise his balance with the next step, never diverting from its path. When it crashed into the RK800, blue blood was dripping from multiple wounds, the clear silver from heavy armour plates shining out from underneath. Still there was no sign of stopping. Connor struggled to get away from the android, whipping out his chain aiming to wrap it around the RK900’s arm. It did hook onto its wrist, but with a pitying smile the machine pulled Connor towards him effortlessly instead of giving Connor any advantage. Holding onto his end of the chain, the RK800 reacted quickly to the new situation and dove for the only chance he had getting out alive from close quarter combat with the advanced model: He forced an interface. The one program that was superior to the RK900 who hadn’t been outfitted with the ability at all to avoid catching deviancy. The android above Connor began twitching and glitching, his LED a deep blinking red. But Connor couldn’t go easy on the machine and make this more comfortable. If he went easy, he would die. Fighting against the RK900’s antivirus, he slowly gained ground and the moment he reached what he searched for, he flipped the switch and returned to his body.

‘-nnor! Connor! You alright, son?’ Hank’s concerned voice was the first he heard, as someone pulled him out from underneath the RK900s motionless body. ‘He is okay.’ Sixty. ‘His program is fragmented and repairing itself. The RK900s systems are just as dangerous as its weapons.’ ‘I’m fine, Hank’, Connor answered through heavy static, taking the human’s hand to stand up. ‘He is in forced stasis. Nothing will wake him, except for a direct command.’ ‘I’ll get him inside then’, Sixty announced and waved over a few of the people forming the former ring to keep the RK900 in check to help him.

‘Elijah already inside?’, Connor asked as they followed. ‘Inside and ready. He is actually waiting for you.’ ‘Great’, Connor scoffed. ‘Because last time went so great.’ Hank shrugged. ‘Well, he’s the only one that could help us. That can help him.’ They watched how they brought the RK900 into an old test lab and connected the android to a maintenance rig. Then everyone cleared the room and locked the heavy door. This room was outfitted to withstand fire and was more of a bunker than a lab. It was the best they got in case it didn’t work and the RK900 stayed a machine. Checking the locks one last time, Connor followed Hank to the neighbouring viewing room where the reinserted CEO of Cyberlife was sitting at a computer. RK900’s data was already displayed on it and a loading bar filling. ‘Status?’, Connor asked, not wanting to share more words than strictly necessary with the man. ‘My program is uploaded and installing. We’ll see if it works on a minute.’ ‘In a minute?’, Hank asked disbelievingly. ‘You’re telling me, it just needs a minute to change a violent killer to a deviant?’ ‘Yes. Once our new android friends were so kind to hand us the program they used to free their kind, it is easy to replicate and improve it.’ ‘Damn that’s fucked up’, Hank muttered. ‘It’s simple programming.’ ‘People died!’ The eccentric man grinned and stood up. ‘Well hopefully this will stop it. It’s ready.’

That brought everybody’s attention to the rig in the lab. Through the window, Connor could see the RK900 hanging in the arms of the machine unmoving, LED switched off. ‘Should I wake it up?’ ‘…Yes’, Connor nodded finally. Now it would show if they could safe this android or had to kill it. Elijah clicked at the corresponding controls and everyone stared at the LED coming to life.

Blue. Yellow. Red.

With a near instantaneous motion that startled everyone looking at the android, the RK900 had his arms up and pulled at the rig. With one swift motion the arm was broken, the other one ripped and the RK900 stepped from the platform, held back by the probe at the back of his neck. In one last frantic movement, the android twisted the metal and broke that too, before coming to a halt and looking around as if panicked. ‘Stress levels at 82%’, Elijah commented. The RK900 suddenly scrunched up his face and moved his hand to the gunshot-wound on his shoulder, dipping a finger in and hissing. The pain from multiple wounds hit him all at once and the android fell to the ground, scooting backwards trying to hide. ‘92% now.’ The RK900 held his own head by now, nails digging into the synthetic skin. That was when Connor decided he had seen enough.

‘Connor, what are you doing?’ But the RK800 was already out of the room and at the door to the lab, unlocking it. He heard someone following him, but before they had caught up, he was already inside and had closed the door again. It was silent except for the noise of overworking fans. Connor turned and looked at the android. The RK900 had crawled back so far, his back had hit the rig and looked at him with wide eyes.

Connor crouched, hoping to look less frightening. ‘Hello, my name is Connor. I don’t want to hurt you. Do you have a name?’ The RK900 still stared at him, stress levels high. He shook his head. ‘Would you like one?’ The android shook his head again. ‘Does it hurt?’ A nod. ‘Can I come closer to help you?’ A shook of the head. ‘Okay, then I’ll stay here.’

Connor sat down, waiting, while the RK900’s stress levels decreased barely noticeable. But he hadn’t attacked Connor yet. It had worked. It may just have been a bit much for the android. ‘It hurts so much.’ Connor looked up. The android had curled his upper body over his knees. ‘Why? It should not be possible. I am deviant now, am I?’ ‘Yes, you are. And I know it’s confusing.’ ‘It’s not. Everything makes sense suddenly. It just… It hurts. Everything.’ ‘What hurts?’, Connor asked softly. ‘My… body’, the RK900 said, lifting his wrists still connected to the broken pieces of maintenance rig, then pointed at his wounds as if he needed to prove it. ‘But… My mind, too. I… I did wrong. I did… So many wrong things. Why… Why didn’t you kill me?’

Connor ignored that last question and said: ‘I can help you with your body. The mind… That needs more time. Do you trust me?’ ‘Why should I trust you?’ ‘I am your brother?’, Connor offered. ‘I care about you and I don’t want to see you in pain.’ ‘Brother…’, the RK900 mumbled, tasting the word. ‘I don’t… I don’t trust. But I will try to trust you.’ ‘Alright. I promise you will feel better soon.’ Connor stood up and walked over to the troubled android, whose stress levels rose but not as high as before. ‘I will get rid of these’, he explained, gently taking the RK900’s wrists and opening the shackles from the rig. ‘And you still have the main probe in you. I will-‘ ‘No! I… I can’t see you there.’ ‘Alright. You have to grab the part of it sticking out and turn it to the left. Then you can pull it out.’ The RK900 followed his instructions and shivered as he pulled the piece out of his port, before throwing it far away.

‘Better?’ ‘A bit.’ ‘I will have to interface to disable the rest of your pain’, Connor announced. ‘I won’t change anything, just show you were you can do that, okay?’ The android nodded. Connor established connection and located the setting, pointing it out for the RK900 who immediately switched it off. Connor retracted his hand and immediately after, the android in front of him flopped forwards, leaning against the RK800. ‘Thank you, Connor’, he sighed, and the other android smiled. All had worked. The android was finally free. What left them with the task of explaining everything to the public and finding excuses to keep him safe. But that were worries for another time.  Right now, Connor had to keep watch over RK900’s stress levels and get him repaired. ‘Hey. That’s what brothers are meant for.’

[jaehyun-eclipsed]

Before I Met You | Thirteen

Updates: Sundays

Pairing: NCT (Jaehyun, Lucas, Mark, Jaemin, Johnny) X Reader/OC

Genre: Romance, Angst, Coming of Age

Summary: Four. There were four people before I fell in love with you… Here are their stories.

Warnings: Some swearing and mentions of mature content

Before I Met You Masterlist

Prev | Next

Choi Jisu.

Interestingly, I don’t actually know Jisu personally. I only know of her. She’s a year older than me and I only recognize her because she was dating an upperclassman from my high school when he became a student here. She was always tagging him in their photos together.

I scoff. No wonder I hadn’t been seeing those lately. She has a new man. I sigh. Small world.

I select her profile and begin clicking through her viewable photos. Jisu is an avid photo taker – and not the artistic kind. She’s the kind that clearly demonstrates the need to post about everything she does for social, and ultimately, external validation – as illustrated by her endless number of publicly available photo albums, allowing me to quickly discover that she participates in beauty pageants… and wins.

And as I juggle all that information, it starts to make sense. She’s used to being the center of attention. In fact, she likes being the center of attention and being treated like she’s important, hence her behavior regarding Jaemin opening the door for her. She has “high maintenance” written all over her.

As I continue browsing through her photos, I notice that all of the pictures she had with the guy from my high school are gone. Jisu clearly likes publicizing all of her relationships while she’s in them… and then quickly deleting any evidence of them as soon as they’re over as if they never even happened.

Wouldn’t that bother her? Having all 700 of her Facebook friends be able to pinpoint when she started a new relationship and with whom. One boyfriend after another – someone who clearly has difficulties being alone. It’s common for a lot of people, but why would you want everyone to know?

Her second most recent album that’s titled “Third Year – Summer” is where I find the photos of relevance – the photos showcasing her new and blooming romance with Jaemin. Most of them are pretty standard: dinner outings and various dates to the park and ice cream parlor.

My nostrils flare as I glare at the screen. That scumbag. Blatantly flirting with me when he has a girlfriend that he has conveniently left out of every conversation we’ve ever had!

I don’t know what to do with this information.

Wow, Jaemin! You probably thought you were so slick – and I’ll admit, you had me there for a second! But you made the mistake of bringing her home and coincidentally, I happen to know her. That last bit isn’t your fault, but really, what are the chances in a school with thousands of people?

I am not okay with this! We’ve already had an experience of a guy with a girlfriend flirting with me and it didn’t end well!

Am I just supposed to back off? But I didn’t do anything. I’m not even supposed to know anything!

I huff in irritation. I genuinely need help in physics and Jaemin has been quite helpful the last couple times I asked him. I conclude that I have two options: continue what I’ve been doing and act like I know nothing or find a new physics tutor.

The first option is purely convenient since he lives right down the hall and I know he can help, but it tests my moral conscience. The second option is more work on my part because I’d have to go through the tedious task of finding a new person and determining whether or not they’re any good.

But then I ask myself another question: am I actually doing anything wrong? I’m not the one who’s flirting. I can’t control how he acts around me. I’m not even supposed to know about this… but my conscience reminds me that I unfortunately do know about this.

Goddamn. Why’d I have to be home at this time?

Screw my conscience, I need help. My grade is more important and the flirting is kind of flattering.

And that’s the thing about the supposed “ignorance is bliss”: it can be taken away from you at any time, without your consent.

Hydroxyl groups are alcohols including methanol, ethanol, etc. They are polar and can form hydrogen bonds. Have the ability to assist in dissolving compounds such as sugars.

A carbonyl group is a carbon atom connected to an oxygen atom via a double bond.

I roll my eyes and chuck my highlighter to the side, sighing in annoyance as I look around the empty dining room. I’m so lame. It’s Friday night and I’m sitting at home studying.

Despite having adjusted a bit better at the beginning of my second year, I still haven’t made many friends that I can hang out with. The “friends” I have are mostly acquaintances – classmates that I could contact if I ever need anything for class. That’s why I was quite thrilled that Jaemin seemed pretty cool and that he actually liked spending time with me. But I’m not sure how I feel about this new revelation. Based on the superficial facts, I have qualms to pick with his moral compass.

So I started contemplating other housemates I was interested in getting to know – people I could come home to and hang out with in the common rooms. Jaemin’s other roommate – Jeno – seemed worth speaking to. Renjun is polite, but he’s built a nearly impenetrable wall to his friendship. Perhaps he’s just more comfortable with guys.

I turn my head when Jeno walks into the dining room. We make eye contact for several seconds before he turns away and continues into the kitchen. That’s how it always is with him. He’s always expressionless when he looks at me, but his eyes appear to betray him with that lingering glance that tells me he knows something.

I hear the opening of cabinets, the clanging of pots and pans followed by the stove fan being turned on.  

I don’t know what’s so scary about going up to new people – like you’re constantly afraid of being judged for talking to them. I know they don’t care, but this feels different considering Jeno and I have seen each other many times, never acknowledging each other, just… staring.

Jeno? He’s nice. You should introduce yourself to him!

Jaemin’s encouraging words convince me to get up from my seat and walk into the kitchen. Jeno is standing in front of the stove, cutting vegetables. Slowly, I walk up to him, tilting my head and peering up at him. He jumps a bit when he turns around, startled by my sudden appearance.

“Hi,” I say with a smile. “Um, you’re Jaemin’s roommate, right?”

“Yeah!” He returns a wide grin. “I’m Jeno.”

“Hi, I’m Y/N.”

He extends his hand out to me, barely gripping my hand – almost as if he’s afraid he’ll break it – and lightly shaking it up and down.

“Jaemin told me you’re a chemistry major?”

“Yeah, how about you?”

“Biology.”

We proceed to ask each other the standard series of questions: Where are you from? What classes are you taking this semester? Are you part of any clubs?

And of course, I always mention my struggles with physics because I’m half hoping he’ll have another suggestion in case I decide I want to jump the Jaemin-ship.

“Oh yeah, I took physics last semester,” he responds. “It was terrible because I hate math so I’m taking a break this semester. You should ask Jaemin for help. He’s much better at it than me.”

Goddammit.

“Yeah, I’ve been asking him for help. He’s been helpful…”

A silence passes between us and when I look up at Jeno again, he has this weird look on his face. The corner of his mouth is upturned and his eyes are – well, they look like they’re undressing me. And then I realize that it’s nearly identical to that mischievous look Jaemin has.

Good Lord, do all three of you have the same look?

Actually, you know what? I don’t want to find out.

“I’ll let you get back to cooking,” I say, abruptly heading towards the door. “It was nice meeting you.”

“What were you doing?” Jia asks when I return to our room towards the end of Saturday night.

“I was doing my physics problem set and studying for the bio midterm next week.”

“Ooh,” she coos suggestively. “Were you with Jaemin?”

“No. He’s going to help me tomorrow because went to a football game tonight.”

Hmm… I bet Jisu was there with him.

There’s a stupid grin on her face when I turn to look at her. “Do you like him?”

“No.”

“Really? You guys look like you get along really well.”

“Yeah, he’s fun to hang out with.”

“But you don’t like him?”

“No.”

“But –”

Thankfully Jia’s laptop starts ringing. Her parents are calling her from Beijing. I excuse myself, grabbing my laptop, phone, and water bottle to sit in the little inlet in the hallway until she gets off her call.

I know she suspects something and her inexperience with boys is what naturally makes her curious. According to her, she’s never had a crush on anyone. Not sure I totally believe that. And she’s not aware of anyone who has ever had a crush on her. Actually, she’s never had any guy friends and had once asked me how you communicate with them, her tone almost implying that they were an alien species. Like I said, she’s been quite sheltered most of her life. So she’s slowly learning things. I only wish I wouldn’t have to be the one she asks to tell her what a blowjob is.

When I left my room, I noticed that Jaemin’s door was cracked open. Actually, it’s always cracked open like that. And normally, it’s quiet, but tonight, I quickly learn, is a much different story.

“My girlfriend fucked up the pizza,” Jaemin says disdainfully.

So she was at the game…

“How do you fuck up pizza?” Jeno asks.

“She got cheddar pizza.”

“Cheddar pizza?”

“It doesn’t taste bad.” I hear the microwave door slam. “But it still tastes kinda weird. She also gave me a bunch of coupons.”

“For what?” Jeno asks.

“This one says ‘fifteen minutes of oral.’”

I nearly spit out my water. The hell?

“Fifteen minutes?!” Jeno responds in disbelief. “Can you even last fifteen minutes?!”

“Shut up!”

“Wait, maybe you can see if it can be fifteen minutes total,” Renjun says. “So if it takes you ten times to get to the fifteen –”

“You fucking –”

The rest of Jaemin’s crude response is muffled due to a loud crash. I imagine he threw something at Renjun given that Renjun and Jeno are uncontrollably laughing and I have to cover my mouth to prevent myself from laughing out loud. 

“But yeah,” Jaemin continues. “She gives me these coupons like, ‘You win this fight,’ ‘I won’t get mad when you fall asleep on me,’ ‘I won’t complain when you say you say you want to hang out with your guy friends’ –”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jeno interrupts. “She won’t complain when you say you want to hang out with your guy friends? Isn’t that sorta… shouldn’t that be a given?”

There’s a look of horror on my face as I process what I’ve just heard. Jisu sounds… let’s just say I would not want to be dating her.

“Exactly! She’s crazy!” Jaemin exclaims. “If I spend more time with her, I get more of these things and they’re kind of useful. But I don’t want to spend more time with her…”

“I didn’t really talk to her at the game, but she didn’t seem like she was enjoying it much,” Jeno says.

I purse my lips and run my tongue along my front teeth, completely stunned and quite frankly, somewhat amused that I happened to be out here at the time they were discussing this.

Wow, Jaemin, that sounds like a really secure relationship. Congratulations. If you hate her so much, why are you even dating – oh – the fifteen minutes…

All of these revelations were a disappointing confirmation. First, Jaemin actually does have a girlfriend. He said the G word himself. Second, Jisu is just as high maintenance as I had been able to analyze from her photos. And third, Jaemin is a liar! Well, actually, he hasn’t lied to me. He’s just conveniently left things out.

The alarm bells in my head have started ringing off the hook. At first, they were just there in the background, an occasional beep to warn of a possible danger. But I think now is safe to say that he’s a flirt – and he’s good at hiding it. That’s what makes him so dangerous.

The next afternoon after meeting with Jaemin, I had scheduled a call with Mark. We finally managed to figure out a time that worked for both of us and I had insisted that it was quite important. I was quite irked as I had actually confirmed that third assumption from last night.

I walk up the stairs shortly before my call time, taking note of Jaemin’s door slightly ajar again. As I near my door, I pause when I hear Renjun’s voice.

“Where’s Jaemin?”

“I think he’s out with –”

Dammit. Did he say Jisu?

“Again?”

“Yeah, he hasn’t been very happy lately,” Jeno responds.

“He should just break up with her,” Renjun says.

I continue onto my room, trying to make my footsteps almost silent to make sure they don’t suspect anyone is listening to them, but I nearly drop my things after hearing Renjun’s next question.

“Do you know anything about Y/N?”

“I talked to her once. She’s nice. I think Jaemin likes her though. She’s pretty attractive.”

“Do you think she knows about –?”

“I don’t know –

Suddenly, I hear someone coming up the stairs and shortly thereafter, one of my neighbors rounds the corner. I make eye contact with her, realizing how weird it is for me to be standing in the middle of the hallway. Quickly, I begin acting like I’m shifting my things into one arm in an attempt to grab my keys.

– Probably not. Jaemin never brings her here.”  

“Hey, Y/N!” she greets.

Fuck.

“Hi…”

I turn away quickly, tapping the key fob against my door and run inside.

“No, Mark, I’m serious! He has a girlfriend!”

“How’d you find out?”

I relay to him my story from last week – walking by Jaemin’s room and overhearing Jisu by happenstance, strategizing my method of figuring out who she was, the Facebook discovery, the coupons…

“And he’s been flirting with you like that? And spending three plus hours with you helping you do your homework?” he asks in disbelief. “Yo, Y/N, this guy sounds like trash.”

“He was helping me with physics today and I asked him who he went to the football game with and he said he only went with his roommates. He lied straight through his teeth!”

“I mean, it’s not like he’d actually tell you. He hasn’t told you before.”

“I kept trying to ask him some questions that would easily allow him to say something about it, but he never did.” I purse my lips. “He’s not stupid though. He probably knew I was fishing for information.”

“Wait, wait, wait, I have another question, Y/N. Who gives coupons like that?!”

“Uh… an insecure person?”

Mark lets out a loud sigh. “I mean – I – I can understand giving out coupons for like… a massage or to cook their favorite dinner. You know? Something cute like that. But these are just weird.”

Clicking my tongue, I respond, “Yeah, that was my conclusion. He doesn’t seem to like her very much though. Not sure why he doesn’t just break up with her.”

“Yo, he’s probably scared.”

“I was just hoping that you wouldn’t also confirm that he sounds like trash.”

“Why? Do you like him?”

“No, I’m not interested in dating him. I think he’s fun to hang around and I want to be his friend, but I feel like that’ll be kinda complicated.”

“Do you know what his girlfriend is like?”

“Only from what I’ve seen and overheard. She sounds –” I scrunch my face is displeasure “– high maintenance. She does beauty pageants… and wins.”

“So she’s pretty,” he concludes.

“Yeah, she’s pretty. I don’t really know why he’s interested me if he’s dating this pageant girl.”

“What are you talking about? Y/N, have you looked in a mirror? You’re really pretty,” he says. “And I’m not just saying that because I’m your friend.”

I’m thankful that Mark can’t see my expression since we’re talking on the phone.

“I met his roommate the other day. I don’t – I don’t know how I feel about him. He was looking at me like he was undressing me.”

“See! I told you!”

“But Mark, he’s a college guy. He’s probably interested in sleeping with any girl that’s at least a seven and is okay with ‘no strings attached.’”

Mark is silent for a moment.

“Y/N?”

“What?”

“You know that you just admitted that you’re at least a seven, right?”

“…your point?”

“I’m just saying! Anyway, you know that there’s only one reason why Jaemin wouldn’t tell you he has a girlfriend, right?”

I have a feeling I know what the reason is, but I entertain Mark’s question.

“What’s that?”

“That he’s looking for someone else… someone else meaning you.”

Prev | Next

Before I Met You Masterlist Masterlist

[vindicatedvirgil]

amanda’s sanders sides binge reactions, episodes ten-sixteen

losing my motivation — making some changes

home maintenance is not a joke

infinitesimal

i don’t know, LOGIC

the game is on

all business

no you can’t play with us

i’ve been waiting for this day to wear it

he found a dollar

touching up some eyeshadow

what are these grounds

are they coffee grounds

/dadjoke

bleak

you’re not welcome

elementary my dear daddy

what

HE’S NOT ALWAYS THE BAD GUY

how do the sides borrow money from each other i’m confused

sir sing-a-lot

i am a knight thank you very much

oh no how could you do it i trusted you

what’s going on? something good

feelings. the bane of my existence

weird mushy vision you mean my entire catalog of fanfic writing

well who should have done that *cue intense music*

am i in a paradoxical loop

calm down time

that was dark even for me

yes go to the library

logan’s name reveal

Q+A time

laughy cry-y emoji

pouty mcspecs

i really need to up my roman giving nicknames game

his anxiety is heightened VIRGIL IS TALLEST SIDE CONFIRMED

so does roman have a fairy godmother

bippity boppity boo yah

i’m not okay

i promise

but also i am the walrus

wait that needs to be on my patton playlist brb

virgil likes tumblr hence he likes us

i need four cookies

and i will sit on a surface that is not meant to be sat on

patton doesn’t always screw stuff up

i also like podcasts

CAMPFIRE SONG SONG

virgil’s compliments are great what are you talking about

who is texting logan (my guess is orange)

who is texting roman (my guess is remus)

winnie the pooh~

logan tries singing to all star

and virgil just goes “yeahhhh”

i know big words

DO YOU KNOW HOW CUTE YOU ARE

relevant with yesterday’s skirt photo

fanart!

fanfic!

what is a ship?

virgil definitely knows because he’s on tumblr

thomas has a rat in his hair confirmed (it’s remus)

virgil is the first in this one too

sometimes i just gotta be me-an

hide under the covers until the sun goes away

chemically imbalanced romance

we’re donezo

never fear your creativity is here

thomas’ happiness is roman’s mission

cries

you shackle your creativity

wait

remus says something very similar

hmmmmmmmmm

brainstorming extravaganza

patton why were you not wearing your pants

KNIVES

is this why princey spit yogurt at me yesterday

i’m always serious. clearly. i wear a necktie.

roman wears the pants-

they are a family btw

lol time limits

do those exist in current episodes

FIGHTING

...verbally

OMG OMG IT’S TIME

aggressive bouts of beat poetry

nb royalty aka me

*nods like virgil*

WOO!

capita? like the cogitating cap?

patton would love untitled goat game

you tried you failed let’s go to sleep

booyakasha

logan you can’t just call virgil a defeatist

virgil’s face

and he just sinks out without saying anything

am so soft for the boy

roman name reveal!

hey roman

yes?

you’re my hero

SOBBING ENABLED

MY LIFE IS A LIEE

time for my favorite debate, much better than any political debates

analogical time

this could have been a logan centric video if virgil didn’t pop up

wow

we get it, you don’t want me here, but i’m here

i want you here

virgil please be in the video tomorrow

i too call upon very specific facts to feel secure

how bruised is roman

cardigan-clad clod aka me

same, cream based broths upset my tummy unless i take lactaid

wait logan can’t be objective?

haagen daaz dispersion

bad imaginary

vocab word!

a debate *snap*

i wanna be the supreme dark overlord of negative commerce

RIGGED

please help me *screams in agony*

me me big boy

too much pressure, nooo

do they groan in disgust about the butterflies in his tummy because they feel that way about each other or-

this is better than any political debate

TBD = totally believable dude

when did they vote on logan’s proficiency plan i wanna see this

of course it’s not a straight answer no one in this video is straight-

the first FALSEHOOD

did he just hiss at me

i’m right, you’re wrong, shut up

that’s a try guys reference

savage

this is stupid he’s stupid i’m out

LOGAN DOESN’T MIND VIRGIL’S COMPANY

your mom misses you

visual puns are great

amazing!

uhhhh

uhhh

mmmmmmm

no virgil you’re not alone

same patton, i’m always confused

surly temple is one of my favorite nicknames

NEIGH

MOO

BAAA

word association games return

don’t you dare turn breakfast food into a negative metaphor

was this really a necessary visual

screaming

voltron shirt *hits joan*

me watching sanders sides late into the night

great odin’s eyepatch!

well then it’s just 5am and you need to go to bed

keep it up so we get to see virgil more thanks

i’ve dreamed of this moment

NECKTIE

anatomically, thomas is fine

what is the gosh-darn-ding-dang point

adulto

so mean to patton

darude sanderstorm

i want to bounce in a bouncy castle

i want to join a book club with joan and thomas

verisimilitudinous

*gasp* not the necktie

you are the man. you look like the man. i fight the man. i want to fight you now.

janus also fights the man so-

you stole my look

is no one going to acknowledge that he just dabbed

logan asks for patton’s help when they can’t figure out what’s wrong

danny devito reference

mind palace!

star thingies

poor virgil and his eyes

adequate

EEYORE REFERENCE THANKS FOR NOTICING ME

for reference eeyore has always been my favorite disney character

and virgil is my fave

see any connections there

patton-cake

patton name reveal!

growing older is scary but being a kid was also scary because i didn’t know what was going on with my identity

patton understands virgil so well. cries. maybe the asides will fix their relationship

ECHO

listen buddy don’t blame us just because your mind is so empty

that was definitely roman

i didn’t know you made jokes like that

changing...evolving...mutating

why don’t we talk more?

uh oh, feelings

more sentimental than on avalanche

it is flippin sweet man

with you i’m always home-

additional affirmation

whaddup anxiety

if virgil is upset when thomas isn’t near his friends then isolation really has to be messing with him

joan!logan is amazing

terrence!patton though

he/him pronouns all around~

another danny devito reference

okay but talyn!virgil is the best

hissing

breaking the fourth wall? 

single column?

aw patton loves thomas

hehe butt

“we are not actually your friends”

...what

VIKINGMETAL

BIBLIOTECA

i love libraries

I AM FRAIL AND BREAKABLE

a man of many talyn’s

also i didn’t make as many comments on this one because it’s 11pm and i’m starting to get a bit sleepy

[pitterpatterpot]

You’re Out

They float through Final Space, following Bolo.

They all still feel the effects of what happened.

Avocato comes closer to understanding just what his son's been through.

(A Final Space fanfic) 

(Strike one)

“Pass me the goddamn gun!” Avocato growls.

“It’s my arm!” Fox screeches, gesturing wildly.

“We are under attack!”

Fox edges away, voice growing uncertain at the gleam in Avocato’s eyes. “It’s probably just turbulence?”

“Do you not see the giant ass titans fighting each other outside?” Avocato cries incredulously, gesturing out the windows.

“Bolo’s taking care of it!” Sheryl snaps over her shoulder, piloting the ship through the debris. “There ain’t no way in hell we’re getting involved in that!”

Avocato winces, having to agree. Seeing Bolo wrestle with another Titan, one so obviously corrupted by Invictus, grapples with Bolo. Its name may be Jen or Jill or something. Avocato wasn’t really listening, though it does seem as though there’s some kind of personal vendetta involved. Gary told him not to worry about it.

“Could everyone stop talking about guns and focus please!” Tribore gestures wildly to the weapons. “Someone go work the weapons!”

“Got it!”

Both Avocato and Little Cato freeze, looking at each other. Everyone else seems to wince. HUE looks between them.

“Gary, this is an awkward moment, yes?”

“Oh my god HUE, yes.”

“Uh,” Little Cato’s eyes dart away. “I usually man the torrent-“

“Right, of course,” Avocato gives his son the thumbs up. “Go get ‘em, son.”

Little Cato hesitates, throwing a look over his shoulder and smiling at his father before running off. Avocato feels the back of his neck itch, lifting a paw to rub at it as he turns back around.

To find everyone staring at him, Gary grinning widely.

“What?” Avocato narrows his eyes.

They all look away, Gary still grinning.

The battle lasts for what feels like years, yet it’s only hours. The stress and ache of it nearly brings them all to their knees, even Little Cato no longer shouting for joy by the time he’s finished with shooting. Fox and Ash collapse against a wall together, Sheryl leaning back in the pilots seat with her eyes closed and Gary and Quinn leaning against the consoles. Avocato himself is also sitting in a chair, head in his hands and tired from navigating.

“Hey,” Little Cato croaks, stumbling into the room. “So… Bolo won?”

“We’re still alive, so I guess?” Gary swallows, voice rough. “Bolo said we just gotta… float around until we run into the next titan.”

Everyone groans and whines at that, the idea of another attack coming without warning setting their nerves on fire.

“So I guess we’re sleeping in shifts again,” Avocato groans, rubbing at his eyes. “I’ll take first watch.”

“Thanks, man,” Gary gives him a tired smile, standing and making his way for the door. “Just set off an alarm or scream if something happens.”

“Got it,” Avocato nods, taking over at the pilot seat, Sheryl giving him a nod as he does so.

Everyone troops out of the room, none of the usual chatter as they do so. The quiet is the most disheartening thing, their jokes and quips nothing but empty voids. Sighing, Avocato sinks back in the seat, his arms still trembling and back aching. That’s what happens when you grip things too tightly, when you hold a position for hours.

“Dad?”

Avocato’s ears twitch at the sound, his entire body immediately turning. “Hey, son. Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”

Little Cato stands in the doorway, clearly exhausted and dishevelled. Swallowing, Little Cato troops forward, sitting behind one of the consoles.

“Son-“

“You probably need a co-pilot,” Little Cato shrugs. “We don’t know what’s out there.”

Avocato can’t argue with that logic, no matter how much he wishes he could. “Alright, but as soon as someone comes to take over we’re both going to grab some shut eye.”

They settle into silence, Little Cato tapping away at the screen as Avocato directs them to follow Bolo. They bob along, pushing dead Gary’s aside as they do so.

“So…”

Avocato blinks at Little Cato’s voice, alarmed at how easy it was for his mind to drift. “Yes?”

“Are you feeling alright?” Little Cato looks down, biting his lip. “You know, after seeing Invictus.”

Puffing out a breath, Avocato shakes his head. “I’m fine. I honestly don’t remember anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Right, so,” Little Cato edges towards Avocato, eyeing his stomach. “Do you - I mean - are you hurt? From when you were Invictus? Gary was covered in bruises and had, like, three broken bones-“

“Oh,” Avocato releases the controls, settling back. “I didn’t wake up with any, but I have some new scars under my fur on my stomach. I guess Invictus healed my body as fast as he could when he was using me.”

Little Cato sucks in a small breath, ears folding down as he hunches in on himself. Avocato sits straighter at the change, at the shorter breaths escaping his son.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Avocato pulls Little Cato into his arms, alarmed. “Son? Little Cato, I’m fine. I healed fast.”

“Gary didn’t,” Little Cato’s muffled voice shakes.

Avocato winces. Right. From when he shot Gary. God, from when he nearly shot his son. He could have done it. Maybe Invictus just decided Little Cato wasn’t a threat. “I’m so glad I didn’t shoot you,” Avocato mutters, burying his head against Little Cato. “I wouldn’t be able to handle it if I did, even if it wasn’t my choice.”

“Um, right,” Little Cato suddenly pushes back, not meeting Avocato’s eyes, mouth trembling. “I’m gonna - I think I need some sleep. I’ll go get Sheryl to take over or something.”

“Little Cato-“ Avocato reaches out, but his son is already running out of the room.

__________________

(Strike two)

Maintenance is important. Polishing, recharging, loading. All of these things are necessary if you want your gun to be functional. It’s a rhythm at this point, to tear apart the small or large machines and do what needs to be done before fluidly placing them back together. It’s muscle memory, ingrained in Avocato after years of practice.

“Hey, man! How’s it going?”

Then there are new habits. Like reaching an arm out to clasp hands with Gary. The human instantly grins, plopping down on the bench next to Avocato, kicking his legs out.

“You look happy,” Avocato observes, setting a finished gun to the side.

“Heck yeah!” Gary punches his arms out. “We got Quinn back! And it’s been, like, a solid week since my mom’s tried to kill me!”

Avocato chuckles, picking up another weapon and dipping the cloth in polish. “That’s great. But you do remember that we’re basically in a hell dimension, right?”

“Eh, we’ll get through it,” Gary grins, resting back. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine,” Avocato shrugs. “I just… is Little Cato alright?”

“Yeah?” Gary hesitates, brows bunching. “Maybe? Now that the adrenalines worn of I think the shock is kind of setting in.”

“Right,” Avocato eyes Gary. “You sure you’re not still riding on that adrenaline?”

That smile fades slightly. “Maybe? I don’t think so,” that smile springs back into place. “Little Cato’s probably just shocked to have both is dad’s together!”

“Right,” Avocato chuckles. “That whole ‘adoption’ thing.”

“Are you… cool with it?” Gary grimaces slightly. “I mean, I was sort of just supposed to be a rental dad and-“

“Gary, no, of course I’m fine with it,” Avocato lightly punches him in the shoulder. “I never wanted Little Cato to be an orphan and you’re the only one I trust with him. You’re a fantastic father to him.”

Gary releases a long breath. “Thanks, that means… a lot, actually. Sometimes I worry I’m not really doing the right thing.”

“Welcome to being a parent,” Avocato snorts. “It’s basically that mixes with general worry twenty-four seven. Want me to polish your gun?”

He’d be an idiot not to notice the way Gary’s back stiffens slightly, his finger freezing at his holster. That smile disappears completely, eyes darkening as Gary leans away slightly. “Gary?” Avocato frowns. “You alright?”

Something snaps at that, Gary’s eyes flicking to Avocato. Relief is there, pure relief, but the smile is still gone.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Gary stands, grimacing slightly. “I might just go see if Mom needs any help on the bridge.”

“I’m sorry I shot you,” Avocato’s voice is a quiet rumble.

Freezing, Gary whirls around, eyes wide. “Aw, jeez, Avocato no. You didn’t- I mean- I don’t even remember what I did when I was possessed. I don’t remember fighting you or Little Cato or anything. I get it, you weren’t you.”

Breathing out a shaky sigh, Avocato looks down at his hands. “Little Cato is afraid of me.”

Gary slowly sits back down. “I- look. I don’t think he’s afraid of you. A lot of messed up stuff happened while you were away. From all the fighting to getting the keys to the sixty years in that weird time zone-“

“What?” Avocato goes rigid. “Sixty years in what?”

All colour leaves Gary’s skin, the human swallowing. “The ship collided with a time shard. The rest of us were trapped on one side while Little Cato was on the other. It was- AVA said that time accelerated on his side. That he was trapped there for sixty years.”

Slowly, Avocato curls in on himself, placing his head in his heads.

“Avocato? Yeah, it’s bad. Like, really bad-“

“Sixty years,” Avocato chokes the words. “My son spent sixty years alone. How could he have handled that?”

Once again, Gary winces. “Uh, he kind of didn’t? From what he told me he went a little… insane?”

“How insane?” Avocato looks up.

“Like… major hallucinations for years and imagining his own death insane?” Gary swallows again, looking away. “The kid… he doesn’t talk about it, but when he does it’s pretty… I don’t know. I don’t think everything in his head came back right. Especially since he remembers it all.”

A thought occurs to Avocato. “Is he even still a child?”

“I think he wants to be,” Gary looks down. “I think he’s trying to be? I don’t know. I wished he talked about it more but if we push he just… it’s like he just turns off.”

“Right,” Avocato places the gun down. “Of course he does.”

“You alright?”

“No. I’m not.”

__________________

(Strike three)

Avocato rolls his shoulders, sighing through his nose. He pointedly looks away from the windows and all of the, christ, all of the dead Gary’s floating around in the infinite abyss of what he assumes is just another version of hell.

God, no wonder Quinn is still held up in the infirmary. Avocato would be too after spending months alone in… this.

Speaking of spending a horribly long amount of time in a horrific environment... He needs to speak to Little Cato. Gary’s explanations were brief at best, but Avocato has no doubt that his son must still be shaken from his time in that strange… time split. When he was on the other side.  

“Uh... mister Avocato, sir?”

Stiffening, the Ventrexian turns around, eyes narrowing and claws unsheathing. “Tryvuulian.”

Muttering, Fox steps forward, eyeing Avocato with slight distaste. “Really are his dad, huh?”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing,” Fox edges forward, wedging himself between Avocato and the bedroom door. “So, uh, whatcha doing?”

“I’m going to see my son,” Avocato crosses his arm, eyes narrowing. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Little Cato’s doing repairs by the airlock,” Fox shifts on his feet. “You’ll find him there.”

“Thank you,” Avocato pivots around, stomping off.

“You’re not gonna hurt him, right?”

Avocato freezes, turning around. “What?”

Fox hesitates. “I just-“

“He’s my son,” Avocato snaps, hands curling into fists. “I need to make sure he’s alright after whatever the hell happened while I was gone!”

“Right,” Fox looks away. “Sorry, yeah.”

Swallowing down a growl, Avocato marches towards the airlock. Once he arrives it’s easy to spot Little Cato fixing a panel, tools strewn around him.

Just seeing his son sitting there, humming to himself, steals all the breath from Avocato’s lungs. There. His son is there and safe. Well, as safe as he can be in such a dimension.

Smiling, Avocato walls forward and places a hand on Little Cato’s shoulder.

“Hey!” Little Cato beams, turning. “I was-“

It takes a moment for the orange Ventrexian’s mouth to go slack, eyes widening and hand grasping the screwdriver. Barking a curse, Avocato raises his arm to grab the fist hurtling towards him, the screwdriver aimed for his face.

“Little Cato! Avocato growls, pinning his son down by his shoulders. “What the hell are-“

“NO!”

Avocato pauses, flinching back and ears flattening. Little Cato squirms underneath him, sobbing and bucking to get free.

“No no no no no no-“

“Son?” Avocato stands and moves back a step, hands still reaching towards Little Cato.

“GO AWAY!” Little Cato growls, scrambling back against the wall and breathing rapidly. “Y-you’re not, you’re not going to, I’m not-“

Creeping forward, Avocato keeps his palm raised. “It’s just me. It’s me, Little Cato. Everything’s alright.”

Eventually he comes close enough to sit beside Little Cato, hands firmly grasped in his lap as Little Cato sobs in a ball. Avocato swallows thickly, trying to look at his son’s face. Once the sobbing begins to die down he reaches out, placing his hand in Little Cato’s shoulder. He keeps his grasp firm, relieved when his son tips to lean against his side. Little Cato hiccups, pressing against his father as Avocato begins to rub circles on his back.

“Are you alright?” Avocato wraps his arm tighter around his son.

“Yeah,” Little Cato breathes in deeply, rubbing at his eyes. “Yeah, Sorry.”

Avocato frowns as Little Cato leans away. “Son, what was that?”

“You just scared me,” Little Cato drags in a shaky breath. “I’ve been on edge, sorry.”

“No.”

Little Cato blinks. “What?”

“You were afraid of me,” Avocato frowns, settling back against the wall. “When I was- what did I do to you, while I wasn’t myself?”

While he was possessed. He still can’t fully believe it.

Back from the dead only to be controlled by a devil.

“I know that Invictus made me shoot Gary,” Avocato can barely keep his voice steady. “And that I shot at you while I was chasing you. I’m so sorry, so sorry that you had to go through that. Was there anything else I did? Any other way I hurt you?”

“You, uh,” Little Cato rubs at one eye, hiccuping as he looks down. “Dad? You- you love me, right?”

Avocato blinks. “What?”

“Love me,” Little Cato’s voice shakes dangerously. “Do you love me?”

“Of course I do,” Avocato frowns. “Why would you-“

“You never said it,” Little Cato gasps out the words, curling up tighter. “You never said and you said- and you-“

Nearly trembling himself, Avocato gathers Little Cato in his arms and pulls the boy into his lap.

“You tried to kill me,” Little Cato says, voice small and weak. “When Invictus was in control. And you shot Gary and said I wasn’t your son and that I was weak and you were going to find me and kill me and-“

“That was Invictus,” Avocato pushes down a growl, slamming it back into the pot of his stomach. “I never would have said or done those things, I swear.”

“Were you gonna to do it?” Little Cato whispers, ears bent and body shaking. “When you- when you took me there, to that- you knew the Lord Commander wanted you to shoot me. Were you actually gonna do it?”

A terrible father. He had been a terrible father.

Avocato squeezes Little Cato closer. His son sobs.

“Why did you take me there?” Little Cato pushes against his father, pounding at his chest. “I trusted you! You walked me there and were gonna- you were-“

“I know,” rasping, Avocato squeezes his eyes shut. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” Little Cato shudders against his father. “What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing,” Avocato growls. “None of it was-“

“I couldn’t even fix a freaking ship after sixty years!” Little Cato hisses. “I can’t do anything! I’m always losing!”

That last word cracks at Avocato’s heart. He pulls his son tight against him, both of them shaking. It seems like forever before Little Cato quietens down, growing slack in Avocato’s arms. The older Ventrexian closes his eyes, resting his head against the wall as he thinks over his son’s words.

What the hell happened?

What did he do?

“I’m sorry,” Avocato croaks, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I messed up so bad.”

“I thought I killed you,” Little Cato whispers, covering his face.

“What?”

“I shot you,” Little Cato rasps, shaking and not meeting Avocato’s eye. “When you were going to kill Gary. I shot you. I thought I killed you.”

All sound empties Avocato’s head. It takes a moment, then another, for him to start breathing again. His shoulders unwind and he tips his head back once again. The scar on his torso. Little Cato’s questions. Everyone’s strange avoidance when it comes to guns around his and Little Cato. Him shooting Gary he can understand. Of course his son would be traumatised from that.

But Little Cato shooting him?

His own father?

The kid can barely even handle lying. How much guilt from shooting his own, possessed father is weighing his son down?

“I’m glad you did,” Avocato noses the top of Little Cato’s head. “I’d rather you shoot me than I shoot you.”

Little Cato hiccups, shaking his head. “I hate this. I hate all of this so much.”

“I know,” Avocato screws his eyes shut. “So do I.”

[goingsllightlymad]

Blinded By Your Light - Part 1. On Meeting

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader 

Summary: Y/N is the definition of ordinary. Studying at a medical school as far as she can get from her rainy hometown of Birmingham, she never expected to be shipped off the Flanders when the war was at it's peak. Much less to meet a handsome young patient with the most beautiful pair of blue eyes she had seen in her life who as fate would have it would fall into her lap.

Word Count: 5035 (I had to split this one up into two chapters because it was getting hella long).

Warnings: I have absolutely no writing skills.

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The sunlight on the windowsill was more depressing than it was bright. Wan and pale, you knew that you would find no warmth there in the light of that cool, indifferent sun, shining on a fate much more dire than even its own fiery glory. August had not been kind to either of you.

The last traces of summer were fading away, and everyone in the hospital knew it. Gone were the summery days when you could wake and catch the glimmer of hope that the sunshine had brought with it, the apple trees in the orchard laden with fruit and the last of the spring's bright blossom on their rich branches, the birds wheeling in the sky as though they could not hear, not far away, the rattle of machine gun fire and the sickening crash of bombs. In those clearer nights, sat upon your windowsill and gazing out at the unending sky, you could almost see the flames leaping from the wreckage of today's attack, the occasional flare shooting up into the sky in a sudden burst of bright green light, casting a lurid glow on the trees and fields below.

And now the cold was seeping in, with its grim promise of longer nights and the worst that was yet to come, and the war was far from over. Sometimes you had to wonder how many men were left, as through the doors to the hospital there came every day the steady flow of men half-dead and some already long since gone, draped in their funeral gowns of stiff brown uniform and the bloom of rich red blood like roses on their unnamed grave. This war would leave no man untouched, and you could see the poison as it crept into the eyes of those who made it out of here, chilling and colder than that false bliss that washed over the still faces of those who weren't so lucky.

It was the same routine as always - waking in the cool morning light to dress in the harsh white uniform and make your way to the dining-rooms for breakfast, eaten in silence in a crowd of sullen, sleepless faces, then working until late in the evening, all night if they needed you, as they did more and more these days. It was getting worse out there, though no one dared to mention it.

It would be an understatement to say that no day at Flanders General Hospital was without a new surprise, still today had to be an exception. Walking into the main ward at 6:00 in the morning, the last thing you expected was for the ward to be filled with bustling crowds of nurses in sharply-starched aprons and men carrying stretchers.

"Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? (What's going on?)" You turned to another nurse as she made her way past you, busying yourself with folding a blanket over the edge of a bed and scanning the room for clues of whatever had happened.

"Il y a eu une explosion dans les tunnels la nuit dernière.. Un gros, clairement. Des hommes de partout. La directrice dit qu'il semble que nous allons courir pendant plusieurs jours. (An explosion in the tunnels last night. Big one, clearly. Men from everywhere. Matron says that it looks like we'll be running around for several days)." she whispered quickly, raising her eyebrows and gesturing wildly at the rows and rows of narrow white beds, already filling with bloodied men. You took in the pained expressions of the wounded men and the frantic ones of the nurses, and all at once you had to fight the urge to run away. You had never seen so many patients at once, and the noise was something that you knew you could never forget. The screams and wails and sobbing drowned all of your senses, and you wondered if Hell could ever sound so bad.

"C'est affreux... Que puis-je faire? Dis-moi que je peux faire quelque chose. (It's awful... What can I do? Tell me I can do something)." You followed her as she set off briskly down the ward, collecting soiled towels from beside the beds.

"Faites tout ce que vous pouvez voir qui doit être fait. Habiller les plaies, nettoyer les lits, transporter l'équipement. Tous sur le pont, vous savez. Ne les laissez pas vous voir rester les bras croisés. (Do whatever you can see that needs doing. Dress wounds, clear beds, carry equipment. All hands on deck, you know. Don't let them see you standing around idly)."

You sent her a quick nod as she ran off with her armful of towels, then turned to the bed beside you, where a man painted with soot and thick red blood was splayed across a bare mattress. Grabbing a basin of warm water from the bedside stand, you set to work scrubbing his tired limbs gently, eyes wandering across the thin and broken form. Reaching up to his face with the now-blackened washcloth, you brushed the heavy mass of matted blonde hair away from his face, swiping at the cracked skin underneath in slow movement. He flinched, tensing up involuntarily, and the eyes that flew open to stare at you were deep and hazel and terrified.

"Tu vas bien, tu vas bien. Je ne vais pas te faire mal. Sûr ... tout est en sécurité maintenant... (You're okay, you're okay. I'm not going to hurt you. Safe... all safe now...)" you murmured to him in your stumbling French, rubbing soft circles on his stained cheek with a shaking fingertip and wetting the washcloth once more. His whole body trembled and his eyes rolled around madly in his head like the eyes of a God forgotten. You wished you would never know what it was like last night.

For the rest of that day, you were rushed off your feet with helping the patients. More and more seemed to flood in from all directions, filling the wards and drawing the nurses in like a swirling cesspit of blood and gore and pain. Grime was washed away, leaving behind faces that were somehow worse, haunting in their shell-shocked horror.

By the time dusk rolled in through the windows high in the stark white walls, the ward was only beginning to quieten, the last of the soldiers carried in almost an hour ago. In a gradual tide of hushed movement, the nurses retreated once more into the dorms and the backrooms of the hospital, the last few remaining to sit by the bedsides and wrap and rewrap the same wounds in the soft glow of candlelight.

Sitting alone on the windowsill of your dorm, you tried again and again to read, your brain dizzying in some other realm of thought that was nowhere near those bleak black letters and the story you'd read before. You'd moved here in a hurry, leaving behind everything you'd known before, and the books were no different. In your carpet-bag when you'd left had been only the three small novels you knew you could never live without, and only enough clothes to last you your journey there and back. You were meant to be home by Christmas, with all the books you could ever hope to read, but as time passed it was becoming increasingly clear that Christmas was going to be a long, long time in coming.

A knock at the door startled you out of your thoughts, making you jump slightly and slam your book shut. You opened the door cautiously, and were met with the sympathetic face of another nurse.

"De quoi avez-vous besoin (What do you need)?"

"La matrone a envoyé pour vous. Il y a un homme dans la salle, anglais. Il est agité, il parle dans son sommeil. Vous êtes anglais, n'est-ce pas? (Matron has sent for you. There's a man in the ward, English. He is restless, he talks in his sleep. You are English, are you not?)".

"Je suis. De quoi a-t-elle besoin pour moi? (I am. What does she need me to do?)"

"Parle lui. Voyez ce qu'il a à dire. Il vaut mieux qu'il parle à voix haute plutôt que de déranger les autres avec son sommeil (Talk to him. See what he has to say. It is better for him to talk aloud than to disturb others with his sleep)."

You sighed, pulling on your apron, wrinkled and creased from the day's hard work, and stepped past the nurse into the corridor. She placed her hand lightly on your arm and gave you a small smile, directing you down to the west ward, where all the British soldiers were lying.

It was not difficult to see which one she was talking about. In the stillness of the ward, one bed was rocking slightly, the patient thrashing wildly in his sleep. His cries echoed throughout the room, piercing through the whimpering and sniffing that hung heavy in the air from all the other beds. A particularly loud wail stopped you in your tracks, and you wanted to throw your hands up to your ears and block out the dreadful noise, but you forced yourself to keep moving towards his bed, biting down on your lip hard enough to taste the hot, metallic blood gathering on the tip of your tongue.

You sat in the chair beside the bed, pulling the curtains tight around the two of you until there was only the bed and you beside it, and in it the man flailing blindly in his horror-stricken fever dream. His hands dropping to his sides to clutch and tear at the bed sheets, you used the opportunity to reach out and stroke his cheek gently, hushing him and pushing the hair back from his sweaty forehead. Over his eyes there was a strip of warm, wet cloth, and you didn't even want to know what would be there should you move it back.

"Who are you." his voice almost made you jump. Low and husky, with a thick Brummie accent, it filled the enclosed space around the two of you like cigarette smoke hanging in the night air. You had not sensed him waking up, but now his breathing was steadying and his body smoothing down against the bed.

"A nurse." you soothed him, still tracing the soft white skin of his face. He made as though to sit up, trying to push up off the bed with unsteady hands, and you pushed him back down lightly, "Shh shhh... Lie down, Mr Shelby. You're weak."

"'M not weak." But his voice was broken and uneven and you could almost hear the smoke in his lungs in the slight wheeze when he breathed.

"Soon, no. But for now let's just let me do the work." He relaxed into your hands, his hands falling back to the bedsheets and you rubbed the back of one of them with your own.

"Where am I?" he croaked.

"General Hospital, Flanders. We found you out by the river, near dead." you spat out the rumour that by now everyone had heard. Five of the men half-drowned, half-suffocated, lying on the riverbank in a pool of soot and blood that seemed to spill from within them, like the war was in their very veins. Five men with no homes to go to and no way to get to them, and four without names. Only Mr Shelby, a name you could swear you had known in some distant lifetime, had been identified, and only he out of the five had survived, although no one was quite sure how.

"Should have left me there." He stiffened, removing his hand from yours and trying to turn away from you, but his ribs ached and it was all he could do not to cry out aloud at the sudden movement. He made do with turning his head to the other side, and you caught the trail of dried black blood that ran down his neck and disappeared under the stiff collar of the white hospital robe. "Y' don't know what I did." His voice was hard and bitter, sad as you had never heard sadness before, but sad at himself, as though even the war was better than what he saw in the mirror every night.

"And I don't particularly want to know. But I can't just let you die, considering my job." you joked lightly, smiling a little at him to cheer him up and then realising that he couldn't see you anyway, and your smile faded away into the evening gloom of the hospital ward.

"Why don't you go save someone who actually deserves it."

"I am, right now." you persisted, and he didn't know whether to laugh or to scream at you or to break down and cry. There was something about you, know you as little even as he did, that drove him a little insane, listening to you challenge him and contradict him as no one had ever done before, and he thought perhaps he liked it. Liked you, but that was cruel and that was weak, and that was something that Tommy Shelby would never do to another soul.

"If you only knew the things I've done-" he chuckled lowly, bitterly, and you got the feeling he was laughing more at himself than at you.

"If I only had a pound note for every man who's come in saying that, I wouldn't be washing and fixing your filth, now would I." and it was true - war was the cruellest thing you know, and it broke men like nothing else. First their bodies, then their minds, then their very souls themselves. In a job like this, it was very difficult not to think about souls, but you were sure that, somewhere within the prison of his broken body, Thomas Shelby had the most beautiful soul that you had never seen.

"Would that you wouldn't, eh." He almost smirked - almost. His lips settled back into a grimace as he tried to laugh.

"I'd have bought meself a set of uniform and be standing in the trenches as we speak."

"So desperate to get to the front line?" He tilted his head as though studying you, and you had to remind yourself that he couldn't see you from beneath his blindfold, or else you were sure you would have squirmed under his scrutiny.

"So desperate to get away from it?"

"Need a way home. 'S work for me back there, and work must be done."

"Then," you spoke decisively, smoothing out his blankets and straightening his chest onto the mattress, and he wheezed painfully at the action, making you flinch instinctively, "I suppose you ought to lie back and let me help you, else you'll never be out of here." you tapped him on the cheek softly, a motherly thing that you hadn't even thought about but now seemed too close, too patronising and at the same time too affectionate. You stood quickly, anxious to run away before he could react and tell you that you were being unprofessional, but as you turned your back to the bed you heard from behind you a quiet chuckle, breathy and honest, and the shifting of bones beneath weary skin.

"Suppose I ought."

You smiled at that, and walked away.

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Early the next morning, they called on you again to make up his bed linen, ladling into your arms the thick reams of bleached fabric and shoving you in the direction of the west ward. As you saw him, lying on his back and grinning at you as you approached, staring into you with those unseeing eyes as though he had known all night that you would be coming back, you couldn't help but smile. You weren't one to pick favourites but this man was really testing your morals.

"You're back." his voice was still monotonous and weak, and his words hung heavy with exhaustion and a bleak, dark emotion that you hoped you would never feel, yet still you caught a hint of amusement. His statement seemed so decisive, like he had wished you back and here you were, just as he had wanted you to be. Even broken in his bed, Thomas Shelby had a curious power over you, and you hesitated to say you didn't like it.

"Are you so disappointed?"

"On the contrary, love. I quite look forward to our little chats."

"And what's on the mind of the great Thomas Shelby today?" you laughed, snaking an arm around his back and lifting his torso off the bed a little, then pausing as he coughed forcefully to cover up the whine of pain that had slipped out.

"Well wouldn't you like to know." he shot you a trembling smile as his body settled back into your arms. A thrill of pity shot through your heart and you pulled him a little closer into you, gazing down thoughtfully into his weary face and covered eyes. Somewhere between today and yesterday, those eyes had become the most important thing in the world to you, the only thing you wished to God you knew. Something deep within you was stirring when you looked at them, trying to make out the shape through the tough white blindfold, and you knew it wasn't good at all. Men like him weren't made for girls like you, and men with pretty eyes were only ever trouble.

"Well now, let's suppose I do." you pulled back the covers and folded them over the foot of the bed. Looking back at his uncovered form, you couldn't stop your eyes from roaming. From the scars on his legs to the blood that hadn't washed away, to the tired bones that jutted out unnaturally from under withered skin, Thomas Shelby was exhausted, physically as well as mentally. Beautiful, so beautiful, and irreparably fucked up.  

You wrapped your free arm under his knees and pulled him into your arms in an awkward bridal position where you could smell the sweet, metallic blood in his skin and on his clothes and he could almost taste the harsh carbolic soap from that awful night before, you kneeling in the water in the darkness, scrubbing the taste of war from your skin again and again until your very soul could bleed white blood and the darkness within you seeped out through every breath into the darkness without.

You almost threw him onto the spare bed that had been cleared beside him.

"If you must. I'm thinking about you." he murmured thoughtfully, as though those words were much deeper than you could ever see, and you longed to see the meaning in his eyes as he stared, unseeing, up at you.

"Nothing too saucy, I hope." you joked, but part of you wondered if you really meant it. You thought perhaps you wouldn't much mind it if he did.

"Never! Get that a lot here?" He tried to gasp in mock indignation, but the breath ended up catching in his throat and he hacked and coughed violently, his eyes stinging with tears at the pain in his chest. Your hand flew out to grab his, and you rubbed small circles on the back of his hand reassuringly, holding him against your chest and rubbing his back with the other hand as he collapsed into you once again.

Once the coughing fit passed you pulled yourself away, trying to ignore as best you could the empty feeling that rushed into your arms in the space he left behind, and the way he tensed up again as soon as you had parted. A trick of the early morning light, and you were beginning to get the feeling that that was a common feature of this man, with all his tricks and secrets.

"Wouldn't be too surprised. Lot of lads missing their gals, and I'm just walking sex appeal. Or so I've been told."

"Bothers you, does it?" there was a cold edge to his voice, protective, possessive even. If you didn't know better, you might say that Thomas Shelby was laying a claim on you.

"Not too much. Flatters my ego, 's all. Got a girl at home, Mr Shelby?" and now it was you that was keeping secrets, trying to control your voice in what you told yourself was a perfectly professional question. Had to know if he had any emergency contacts, that's all there was to it. Still, as he let out a weak laugh and grinned up at you, you could not help but let out a long, shaky breath that you had not known that you were holding. Well, that was one thing cleared up at least, and you thought perhaps you might be happier because of it."

"Tommy." you tested the word, let it roll off your tongue and fill your lungs with its false air, stain your lips and taint the sanctity of that unholy mind. A name you wanted to shout, to scream and to whisper and to plead and to say into the darkness in places you knew were much less professional than this white corner of the hospital ward. It was a name you wanted to keep all to yourself, and it was so much more than just a name. It was a confession, and it was holy.  Nah, nothing at home for me but cold and dark and office work."

"No family?"

"None at all." he said far too quickly and you knew not to push it any further. There was trust and there was Thomas, Tommy, Shelby, and something told you that the two didn't coincide much.  

"Must be awful lonely." you almost felt bad for him, living all alone in his cold town with his dull work and his tiny little life, and you knew that you and him were not so different after all. For a moment it felt almost like you were lying in the bed beside his, and that these two worlds were somehow one. You felt united, and you understood, because this was a secret the two of you could share, and god, wasn't it domestic?

"I shouldn't say so. Look on the bright side - I'm lying in bed with a pretty girl next to me right now. Not sure I should be so excited to go home just yet." your heart sped up a little with the last statement, aching and leaping at once with the fear of him leaving and the knowledge that while he was here there was nothing you could do but stay by his side. You almost didn't want him to go home at all.

"Aren't you just incorrigible! What must the others all think of me?" you teased, pretending to scold him as you giggled and how long had it been since someone had made you laugh like this?

"Hopefully not what I'm thinking of you, love, else we might have a bit of a fall out." his smooth, easy words and comfortable tone made your smile falter a little despite yourself, and you wondered how many girls he had told the same thing to before.

"Been here too long. Bet you're just itching for a fight."

"Told you I was no good." he said, half-joking and half-sincere, and there was an unnerving depth in his words that really should have made you turn and walk away, back to the others in their little back rooms and the laundry that really did need doing now. But you were right - it had been so long since you had seen the light of a proper day that didn't dawn on the cold grey wards and chambers in a country you had never loved before and now could never stand, and in your bones you longed for a story to take you far away, so against your better judgement you stayed, and all the more thought none the less of yourself for it.

"And I told you that was bullshit." you chastened him softly, lifting him back into your arms and returning him to his now-made bed. You laid down his limbs carefully, straightening out his arms and legs and smoothing down his hair against the pillow as he sighed into the crook of your neck, thick, hot air that burned like kisses down your jaw.

"You should really watch you're mouth while you're working."

"Why don't you watch it for me?"

"Take this bloody thing off my eyes and maybe I will." he grinned, but this time there was an earnest, almost pleading note in it that had your hands already reaching up to his face, and to the cruel blindfold that had so robbed you of the truest beauty that you had ever wished to know.

With soft, tentative movements you peeled off the strips of adhesive that held the cloth in place, pushing aside the blindfold and, cupping his jaw with the other hand, tilting his head to look at you. Those closed, scarred eyelids, and suddenly they were twitching and fluttering, lifting heavily as he forced his eyes to open. And there they were - such bright blue stars that burned your blood and sent your heart to frenzy. And time had stopped around you, arrested in their brilliance, blinded by their light, and a bolder girl than you might say that this was all that there would ever be, for he was here and so were you and didn't it seem a lot like fate?

"Beautiful. Nurse (Y/LN), you've been holding out on me." he almost gasped, holding your hand to his lips and pressing a small kiss against the back, his eyes on you like you were all that he'd been waiting for and you wished, you wished, you were.

"Mr Shelby..." you blushed against your better judgement, and he hated himself for doing this to you. He wasn't entirely sure how it had happened, but somehow and so suddenly he was holding the hand of the most beautiful girl he had seen in a very long time, and she wasn't trying to run away. This was the most afraid that Tommy Shelby had been in his life.

"Tommy." he chided gently, and your smile widened.

"(Y/N)."

"So beautiful."

Your faces were closer than you knew you should be, the hospital far away and all around and you wondered if the others were watching you two now, pressed together and so close and still too far away. It was all you could do not to bridge the gap and kiss him, and in another world perhaps you would because then perhaps there was a chance that this could be something more than just a week in a crowded hospital in the grim hell of war. But as it was, you pulled away, closing your eyes so as not to see the light in his flicker and dim as you parted, a thousand times the worse to want his light.

"I should-" you choked out, and his eyes were large and pleading and Tommy had no idea what was going on but he knew that this was the worst that he had ever felt and he could feel his very heart splitting in two a little as you stood to leave.

"Or you could stay."

"I really shouldn't."

"Please." he whispered, and you wished and wished, and you began to walk away again, bed linen under your arm.

"Sleep. I'll be back tomorrow."

________________________________________________________________________________

It was not for him to know that, later that night when the other nurses had retired to their chambers and the dimly-lit backrooms of the darkened hospital, you crept once more out of the nurses quarters and down to the west-wing, where he lay, for once, asleep. Sitting by his bedside in the gloom, you longed to reach out and touch him, and knew that you wouldn't wake him for the world. He looked so peaceful while he slept, and you ached for him as you had for no other, wished that life would bring him rest like this again as you could not seem to bring him health no matter how hard he tried. Even now, in the purplish shadows of evening, he looked so small and thin, a ghost among his fellow men. He looked a world away from when he'd boarded his train to the front line, know that man as you did not. Something in him whispered that, just as it whispered that you should leave, and just the same you pushed it back and sighed into the palms of your hands, drunk with your bittersweet melancholy and the fear with which you loved him endlessly.

And of course it would not mean anything that, when he stirred in his sleep, early in the morning and you still beside him, and began to shake and sob, you rested your hand on his shoulder gently and, for the first time since this bloody war began, you let yourself sing quietly to him. Snapshots of memories from a lifetime that had come before, softening in the blurred blue darkness and painting the world around the two of you, and for a moment you could almost believe that there were only the two of you in all the world, playing at games of war and house that were too old and too dull to tie you down. You could almost spread your wings and fly away to greener gardens where days were meant for living and nights for dreaming dreams that did not wake you colder than you began.

To the sisters who would ask the next morning, when they caught you half-asleep in the chair beside his bed, you were afraid that he would have another nightmare and disturb the other patients, but even you knew that that was not the case. You were there because you wanted to be, and you wanted to be there because he was there, and there was no where else on Earth that you could breathe as freely as you did when by his side.

But you didn't need to tell him that, because he was Tommy Shelby, and it seemed he had problems enough on his own.

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A/N: so here it is! This was originally going to be a really long oneshot, but then I got really into writing the plot and making it more and more angsty so it kind of became the first part of a REALLY long series plan (I have no self-control, this is a problem). Just a warning, this is the fluffy chapter. Like, one of literally three or four or whatever chapters with no heartbreaking angst (I say optimistically, knowing this is all gonna be so underwhelming I swear to God). ALSO (this is the last thing I swear), this is gonna take me so long to update I don't even know any more, I have a shit ton of exams between now and July, so any of y'all that actually like my shitty writing skills ARE gonna end up hating me for this.

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